Atlantis: Bermuda Triangle

by Robert Doherty

  Dane turned off the radio. “Let’s keep looking.”

  They left the bridge of the Nightfarer, the light turning off behind them automatically. Dane surveyed the beach they had yet to traverse.

  He pointed. “How about something we don’t recognize?”

  Sin Fen looked. A long, slim ship, about a hundred meters long by five wide was a quarter mile away from them. It had a hull made of black metal, much like the floor beneath them but was open to the sky on top. A single, very thin mast of the same black metal extended up twenty meters. On the rear was a raised platform on which rested a black box, about two meters cubed.

  “Ever see anything like that in the history books?” Dane asked.

  “No.”

  “Then let’s check it out.”

  They crossed the black beach and arrived at the strange ship. Dane grabbed the gunwale and pulled himself up and into the boat. The floor was level with rows of seats extending the length of the ship, to the raised platform in the rear which had steps leading up to it. Everything was made of the same black material. Dane ran his hand along the side-- it was similar to the material the shore was crafted from.

  He helped Sin Fen clamber on board, then they walked to the rear. Behind the black cube was a semi-circular panel, with levers and buttons amid what looked like computer displays.

  “Pretty modern for an old looking ship style,” Dane noted.

  “No propellers though,” Sin Fen said.

  “So what is this for then?” Dane indicated the panel. Under each lever and button there was writing, a form Dane had never seen.

  Sin Fen ran her fingers across the lettering. “Runes.”

  “Viking?” Dane asked.

  Sin Fen shook her head. “Similar but not the same. More of a root language, because I see some similarities to Sanskrit. Similar to what was on the wall of the watchtower you found near Angkor Kol Ker.”

  “Can you read it?”

  “Some.”

  Dane waited. A large, four-masted schooner was to the right of the ship he was on. The name on the bow was Atalanta. Dane recognized the name from the book he had read on the Bermuda Triangle. The Atalanta had been a training ship for English midshipmen. It, like the rest of these ships and planes, had disappeared with no survivors, no bodies recovered, no sign of wreckage.

  Further around the cavern saw a B-29 bomber in vintage condition parked a half mile away. Next to it was a cigarette boat, the type used by drug smugglers throughout the Caribbean.

  “This boat has a propulsion system,” Sin Fen finally said.

  “Yeah, a sail,” Dane pointed.

  “No, a propulsion system other than the sail,” she said. She nodded toward the black box in front of them. “It’s in there. I don’t know how it works, but the controls for it are here.” She indicated several levers and a small wheel.

  “And this--” her right hand was over a flat black piece of what appeared to be glass. “This is some sort of-- well, as best I can make out, some sort of active display that helped the pilot of the ship.”

  “I don’t get it,” Dane said. “Is this another kind of secret government ship we’ve never heard of?”

  “No,” Sin Fen said. “This is old, very old. This may be the oldest ship in here.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Because this is an Atlantean ship,” Sin Fen said.

  THE PAST

  Chapter 22

  999 AD

  “Sail!” The voice came from the lookout perched on the platform attached to the mast.

  Ragnarok looked up. The man was pointing forward. Ragnarok climbed up until he was next to the man. It was a fine, clear day, with a stiff wind pushing them to the north. They were well west of the Faroes by Bjarni’s calculations. Their last sight of land had been three days ago, the Hebrides off the coast of Scotland. It would be another day before they saw the white coast line of Iceland.

  Ragnarok shielded his eyes and squinted. A small ship was on the horizon, tacking across their projected path, heading east. Hrolf climbed up and joined him.

  “What do we have?” the old warrior asked. His eyes were bad and Ragnarok knew he probably couldn’t even see the ship.

  “A small boat,” Ragnarok answered. “I’m surprised to see it this far at sea,” He noted the sail. “Three black lines on the sail.”

  “Straight up and down?” Hrolf asked.

  “Yes.”

  Hrolf spit. “Lika-Loddin.”

  Ragnarok had heard of the man, but never met him. Lika was the Norse word for corpse and Loddin had received that name for his bizarre way of making a living.

  “Close on his ship,” Ragnarok ordered Bjarni.

  As the distance between the two Viking ships closed, Ragnarok looked for Tam Nok. She was huddled under her cloak just behind the first oar seat, studying the metal map. She had other documents from her bamboo tube spread out around her. Ragnarok climbed down from the mast and walked forward.

  “Have you learned anything more?”

  Tam Nok looked up. “I am beginning to understand this old writing.”

  Ragnarok pointed at Loddin’s ship. “There is a man on that boat who might be able to give us more information.”

  Tam Nok gathered the documents and put them back in the tube. She stood next to Ragnarok. “He sails alone?”

  “Yes. His ship is small and one man can handle the sail. If he is becalmed, he sits and waits. He is a strange man but a very good sailor. He knows these seas better than anyone, particularly the icy waters to the north where we are heading.”

  Loddin’s ship was less than two hundred meters away now. It was less than ten meters long by four in width. A man was in the rear, arms wrapped around the tiller. He was a tall man, not quite to Ragnarok’s height, but close. He wore leather pants and long-sleeved leather shirt that was stained black. On the sides of the ship, above the water line, were several long bundles wrapped in heavy canvas, tied with thick rope.

  “What is that?” Tam Nok asked.

  “Bodies. He is called Lika-Loddin, Corpse-Loddin, because he travels the seas searching for the bodies of those who were trapped in the ice the previous winter. He finds them, then boils the flesh off the corpses. He is now on his way back to Norway and then Denmark where he will sell the bodies back to their families so they can receive a proper, if belated burial. If he is here, he has already been to all the settlements along the coast of Iceland.”

  Ragnarok raised his right hand and bellowed a greeting to Loddin, as Hrolf supervised to lowering of the sail. Loddin didn’t yell anything in reply, but he did leave the tiller and lower his sail.

  The two ships glided up to each other and Ragnarok’s crew quickly tied them together.

  “Ragnarok Bloodhand,” Loddin’s voice was low and hoarse, his face weathered and tanned.

  “Lika-Loddin,” Ragnarok extended his hand over the gunwale of his ship to the other.

  Loddin looked at the hand for several seconds, then grasped the forearm in the traditional greeting, his own forearm in Ragnarok’s grip.

  “Are there any supplies you need?” Ragnarok asked.

  Loddin released the grip. “What do you want from me?”

  “I am offering you the hospitality of the high seas,” Ragnarok said.

  Loddin’s face twisted in what might have been grin. “No one offers Corpse-Loddin hospitality without wanting something in return. Are you looking for someone--” he waved his hand at the canvas bags tied to the side of his ship. “I have had a good spring harvesting the ice.”

  “We are traveling far to the north,” Ragnarok said. “Beyond the north tip of Iceland.”

  “Beyond Ginnungagap?”

  “You have seen Ginnungagap?” Ragnarok asked.

  “I have seen many strange things-- although she is new--” Loddin pointed at Tam Nok who had pulled her hood down. “Who are you?”

  “She is a Disir,” Ragnarok said. “Her name is Tam Nok.”

  “A Disir
?” Loddin gave her a crooked smile. “Do you want to bless the bodies I carry priestess? Insure they move on to a better life? Or have they already moved on? I have often wondered about that and now that I am face to face with a priestess of the gods, I must know-- I sell these bodies back to their families so that they can receive a proper burial, but isn’t it already too late?”

  Tam Nok was just staring at the man in the other boat. “I think you know more about that than I do,” she finally said.

  Loddin laughed. “I think I do.”

  “You have seen the Shadow,” Tam Nok said, catching Ragnarok and Loddin by surprise.

  “The Shadow?” Loddin stepped up closer to Ragnarok’s boat. “The darkness on the ocean?”

  Tam Nok nodded.

  “I have seen it. Beyond Ginnungagap. I find many bodies nearby. On the ice. Frozen. Their ship gone. Very strange but good for business.”

  “How can you sail there when they can’t?” Ragnarok asked.

  “He can sense when it is dangerous,” Tam Nok said. “The other’s-- they get off their ships because they are being drawn into the Shadow. And they fear it more than they fear being abandoned on the ice.”

  “That is the way it seems to be,” Loddin acknowledged.

  “Vikings afraid?” Ragnarok could sense the unease from his men. Running into Corpse-Loddin wasn’t the best thing for morale even on a normal journey and this one had been anything but normal since they met Tam Nok in the fjord.

  “You have never seen the Shadow,” Loddin simply said. “If my ship was being drawn in--” he shrugged. “It depends. It might be interesting to see what is in the darkness. Some of the things I have seen around it are strange enough.”

  “Like?” Tam Nok prompted.

  “You’re going there,” Loddin said. “Perhaps you will see for yourself.” He turned to Ragnarok. “I need water and salt.”

  Ragnarok ordered Hrolf to get the supplies. Tam Nok started to say something but Ragnarok hushed her. “Show him the map.”

  That perked Loddin’s interest. After the supplies were passed over, Loddin climbed into Ragnarok’s boat and knelt down next to the map Tam Nok laid out on the deck.

  Loddin tapped the metal portion of the map. “Where did you get this?”

  “She brought the paper map with her,” Ragnarok said. “We uncovered the metal part at the place of the large stones in England.”

  “Interesting,” Loddin seemed to be a different man now. “I have seen something like it.”

  “Where?” Tam Nok asked.

  “A monk from Eire Land. Have you ever seen the boats they go to sea in? It’s amazing that they can even float. A wood frame with seal skin stretched over it. Fine for a calm day on the lake, but to dare the ocean in such-- they are crazier than I.

  “I was in the southwest part of Eire Land last year. Going back by a different route since I had three bodies of monks from a monastery. I delivered the bodies-- the monks did not pay enough for them to make the trip worthwhile-- but I did meet an interesting man, the leader of the monastery. He knew I had traveled these oceans many times and he brought me to his chamber. He had a map like that.”

  “Where did he get it?” Tam Nok asked.

  “There is a large stone slab, set on top of several other large stones at an angle--” Loddin used his hands to indicate what he was speaking of. “The locals call it the Druid’s Altar, although the monk told me it would not be beneficial to me to use that name around the monastery. He was an interesting man. Went by the name of Brendan.”

  “He found the map he had under the monument?” Tam Nok pressed.

  “Somewhere among the stones.” Loddin shrugged. “He wasn’t specific about that. But he asked me the same thing you are asking. About the way north of Iceland. And beyond.” He reached down and tapped the metal. “He was very interested in getting across the sea to this large land. I told him I had never been that way.

  “Then he asked about going to the north. Near the Shadow.”

  “What did he know of the Shadow?” Tam Nok asked.

  “Not much,” Loddin said. “He had a map like yours. He wanted to know about there--” the corpse-carrier touched the map at the site of the runes indicating the tunnel.

  “Did he say why?”

  “He is a priest of the Christian faith,” Loddin said. “Maybe he was looking for the hell they preach about. Or the heaven. Who knows?”

  “Who are these Christians?” Ragnarok asked. He knew that the so-called Viking king in Denmark had advisers of that faith urging him to convert. From his recent experience in England, it was obvious those who worshipped this new faith had little tolerance for the older beliefs.

  “They believe there is only one God and one Demon,” Loddin said.

  “Then how do they explain the Valkyrie demonesses, who I have seen with my own eyes?” Ragnarok demanded. “How can there only be one God? Is this one god the god for war and love at the same time?”

  “According to Brendan, his god is a god only of love,” Loddin said.

  “Who protects warriors in battle then?” Ragnarok asked.

  “The Christians pray to their one god for everything.”

  Ragnarok snorted. “That makes no sense.”

  Tam Nok spoke up. “Why is this monk interested in the Shadow then?”

  “Because he believes it is something else,” Loddin said.

  “What?” the Khmer priestess demanded.

  “He doesn’t know. That is why he wants to learn more.”

  “Why?” Tam Nok asked. “If he does not believe in the demons and the gods?”

  Loddin ran a hand through his dirty hair. “I asked him that. He said it was important we learn what this Shadow really is. If we think it is the work of Gods then we might not fight it. We might think it beyond our powers. But if we learn it is something else, then we will fight.”

  “Vikings fight the gods,” Ragnarok said.

  “Yes, we do,” Loddin acknowledged, “but most others don’t.” He shrugged. “Really, I think this Brendan is just very curious.”

  “He is traveling there?” Tam Nok asked.

  “Yes.”

  “When?” Tam Nok asked.

  “I passed him two weeks ago. He was heading north--” Loddin pointed at the map. “Going to the same place you want to go.”

  “How many people did he have with him?” Ragnarok asked.

  “A crew of four. His boat is smaller than mine.”

  “Is there a tunnel there?” Tam Nok asked.

  “There is something,” Loddin answered. “If you pass through the fire and ice. You will see a fog bank that does not move. You will feel the evil inside.”

  “But you’ve gone inside,” Tam Nok said.

  “You are a strange woman,” Loddin said. “My supplies are loaded.” He stuck his hand out. Ragnarok took it, but didn’t let go of the other man’s forearm.

  “What is in the fog?”

  “Monsters. The monsters old women tell of late at night to scare children.” His arm was still in Ragnarok’s grip, but he looked to Tam Nok. “I do not know if there is a tunnel in there. I barely got out with my life. I wish you better luck.”

  THE PRESENT

  Chapter 23

  1999 AD

  Captain McCallum stared at the bodies, noting the gunshot wounds that had killed all three. “Get them out of here,” he ordered.

  Sea water dripped out of computer hardware cases and there was still an inch on the floor of the computer systems room.

  “I don’t assume we could get any of this on-line,” McCallum asked Commander Barrington.

  “No, sir. It will all have to be replaced. I think the assumption was that if this chamber ever filled with water, the sub was sunk anyway.”

  “Damn near was,” McCallum said. Seawolf was still on station, in the narrowing band of sea between the Bermuda Triangle gate and the Milwaukee Depth. Normally submariners liked having deep water below them, but the Puerto Rican Trench
was a little too deep for McCallum’s peace of mind after their near sinking at the hands of Bateman.

  He watched as two sailors wrapped Captain Bateman’s body in a sheet and strapped it to a stretched. “I wonder if he was trying to warn us,” Bateman said.

  “Warn us?” Barrington repeated.

  “Remember when he first came on board? He told us to be ready to fight without our sophisticated instruments.” McCallum waved his hand around, taking in the now worthless hunks of top-of-the-line computer gear. “We’ve lost pretty much every piece of gear in the ship when the computers went down. But there’s one thing we haven’t lost,” the captain of the Seawolf continued. “We still have the best damn crew in the navy. It’s time we break out the stopwatches and hand-held calculators. I want us to be ready to fight if anything comes out of that gate. Got that XO?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  *****

  While the navy’s most sophisticated weapons system was being forced to go back to the tools that submariners in World War II used to fight, one of the US Air Force’s most advanced airplanes was almost directly overhead, flying a tight racetrack.

  The Boeing 767 Airborne Warning and Control System was a more advanced version of the venerable E-3 AWACS that had flown hundreds of thousands of surveillance missions for NATO during the Cold War. The most distinctive feature of the plane was the thirty foot wide radome bolted onto the top of the fuselage. Inside was the Northrop Grumman AN/APY-2 radar which rotated six times every minute. Able to read targets over 200 miles in any direction, the AWACS was able to paint a picture of the entire Bermuda Triangle gate.

  Inside the AWACS the crew watched their screens, alert for anything coming out of the gate, while at the same time coordinating the military forces that were converging on the perimeter.

  Scores of fighters and bombers flew air cover around the gate. The aircraft carrier George Washington was on station and had the unique distinction of being the first naval vessel to field an army anti-missile unit on its large deck. Several Patriot missile batteries along with their radar system were chained down on the large expanse of deck, their warning system tied in to the AWACS.