“Oh my God!” She whispered, but it echoed back as if she shouted atop the Matterhorn.
Caught up with the exhibit, Emily jumped when Brian moved in behind her, his palms resting on her shoulders. “I’ve seen a number of bizarre ventures launched deep in this facility,” Brian took a deep breath, “but I can honestly say that they’ve never tried anything like this.”
A shiver coursed through her as she whispered, “they didn’t have Colin then.”
And with the curiosity and awe of a child, Emily crossed that concrete floor as if it were frozen, as if she was on top of the ice-crusted surface of some faraway planet. She approached the mammoth craft suspended by metal scaffolding, like a creature of the sea, imprisoned, wanting nothing more than to be immersed in the life-sustaining ocean.
Mesmerized, Emily began to pace the perimeter, studying the fine details of craftsmanship. The vessel looked like an enormous silver manta, with its eyes formed by the bank of windows at the forward nose. The body of the ship flowed in aerodynamic waves as if even in these metal shackles it was gliding silently through the water, leaving the faintest of wakes.
Emily dared to step closer and stare up at the smooth, black underbelly. From this perspective she felt just as she had as a child in the Museum of Natural History, staring up at the blue whale suspended from the ceiling of the Hall of Ocean Life. She had felt so diminutive, like a tiny spec of plankton that would be inhaled without a thought.
The Hyperion was wider than that blue whale, but about the same length. It was made of a material that sparkled like black onyx. She walked for a span beneath it, but returned to Brian with a sense of urgency.
“You want to go inside.” He nodded, resigned.
“Yes.”
Emily looked at Brian and saw the concern. She turned back towards the arresting leviathan suspended in mid air.
Her words barely formed sound. “I don’t know which is more beautiful.”
Brian cleared his throat. “Ah, see, now you’ve inflated my ego.”
“I should have iterated that I don’t know which is stronger.”
Brian murmured something unintelligible and stepped over to the scaffolding. “Get back.”
At the bottom of the rigging were staged a conglomeration of consoles with idle monitors and switches all rendered useless without power. Like a master pianist, he stood before that bank and reached with his pinky for the High C, rousing the panel into life. Data poured freely into the monitors with a hypnotic effect, similar to watching the stock market ticker across the bottom of the television set. In sequence, this composer tapped his other hand as buttons illuminated and a subtle vibration began with a soft drone emanating from the Hyperion. With little fanfare, a flap disengaged and nimbly descended to the ground like a metal tongue reaching out to lap them up.
“Brian,” she cried in alarm, “they are going to hear this. They are going to come!”
“I’ve been inside this craft, Em. Right now, the interior of the Hyperion is the safest place for us. You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
She looked from his earnest eyes to the ramp that beckoned. No, it didn’t beckon, it tempted her. She turned back to him in anticipation.
“Go, Em.” His eyebrow inclined. “Hurry.”
He had grown edgy and was now holding the gun up, searching the recesses of the chamber. That was enough motivation for her. Emily stepped onto the plank.
“You knew the Hyperion was constructed all this time.” She hesitated. “You never said—”
Brian seemed ready for an attack, but stopped and looked her dead in the eye. “If I told you, you would have wanted to come back here immediately, and I knew if you returned to NMD I might not be able to protect you.”
Had she even imagined that this craft was assembled, Brian was right, she would have found a way to get back here and see it. Flipping through the CAD drawings and raw data, a three dimensional image had begun to form in her mind, but the likelihood of that image ever manifesting itself seemed implausible. She was infused with pride.
“What do you think?” Her voice was hoarse.
Brian tipped his head back in consideration of the reflective expanse of a wing. Mirror plating made exotic patterns over the onyx facade, a camouflage for the ocean. “I think you should be proud of your brother.”
Emily felt her throat constrict, but she managed to say, “Let’s see this puppy.”
Even as they ascended, Brian’s grip tightened around the barrel of the 9MM, his finger flirting with the trigger. The thought that nagged him the most was that they were walking into a trap—a giant chrome and steel Disneyland-ride kind of a trap. But he had been inside this behemoth before and was aware of the capabilities of the Hyperion, and felt that only inside Colin Brennan’s subterranean leviathan could he protect Emily. The innate security system would deter their assailants for a period. How long of a period was the gamble he had not had time to calculate.
“I can’t believe it.” Emily’s voice sounded tinny inside the steel barrier. “It’s an exact replica.” She rotated, taking in the narrow corridor leading to the control deck.
Mesmerized, Emily approached the semi-circular bank of radar, telecommunications and operational panels luminous under a layer of thick laminated windows. Bullet proof seemed an inferior description. These windshields could withstand the pressure of thousands of pounds of water and ice, the likes of which had never been tested. Brian watched as she stepped up to that vista and stared out into the empty hangar. The cement walls of the fortress were not far away, but she did not see them. Instead, by the misty look in her eyes, she was most likely envisioning the craft slicing through the murky ocean depths.
To Brian this had been a nagging project that suddenly took a drastic turn for the worse, but the wonder in her eyes made him realize the overwhelming nature of the beast.
“They’ve been working on this for nearly two years,” he began. “How long ago did your brother come up with these designs?”
Emily spun from the window, but her fingers trailed the row of instruments, a frown furrowing between her eyebrows. “God, it seemed to be something he was toying with years ago. I know the first time he showed me some crude drawings he was still in college.”
“What’s wrong?” Brian stepped up, concerned by the look on her face.
“I don’t know,” she turned to view another panel of electrical conduits mounted along the far wall, and said baffled, “it looks as if—”
“It’s not finished.”
Brian whirled with the gun raised, and only Emily’s sudden bleat of astonishment stopped him from shooting. He heard her sharp intake of breath a moment before the figure stepped from the shadows.
Brian dropped his arm.
“Colin!” Emily screamed and launched herself at the disheveled young man.
Colin caught her, but the impetus of her embrace nearly propelled him back against the wall.
Whatever Emily did, she did it with gusto, Brian thought.
“My God,” Emily grabbed her brother’s shoulders and dragged herself back to look at him. “What on earth do you think you’re doing? Of all the places—why the hell are you here, Colin?”
“Good to see you too, Emmy.” A wicked smirk tilted his mouth. “You’re looking—” he frowned.
Colin’s sharp glance shifted between his sister and Brian. Though he addressed Emily, his glance narrowed on Brian. “—you’re looking well.”
“Well—well? I’ve been worried sick. Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through to find you? Did you have to be so damn cryptic, Colin Brennan?”
Brian winced and nearly sympathized with the young engineer. Every one of her verbal assaults seemed to make her brother’s shoulders flinch.
Her censure was nowhere near over, so Brian took advantage of the elevated windows to survey the hangar for signs of their imminent visitors. He was apprehensive, knowing they had only a short time and a minimal advantage inside a craft t
hat was now locked down to the outside world. Their upper hand improved with the surprising appearance of the designer of the Hyperion, although Brian was not shocked to see him here.
“I’m serious, Colin. What on earth are you trying to do?” Emily’s arms were crossed.
Her brother managed to look contrite. Only after his oh-so similar eyes flashed across the control deck, did conviction return to them.
“You see it yourself,” he said. They weren’t able to complete it. That’s why they’re so hot on getting their hands on my designs. Look at this,” Colin stooped over a bank of instruments and began to flip on buttons which started the submersible humming. He patted his shirt pocket, looking for a licorice stick, but the pocket was empty.
Brian’s head snapped at the sound of the engines. “What the hell? I know they’re going to find us, but no need to draw them here any quicker.”
Colin glanced up from the luminous panel. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve been playing with these for two days. The sound is virtually mute externally. You know—don’t want to damage the eco-systems.”
“Right,” Brian nodded, unconvinced.
“Which brings me to my point,” Colin continued, unaffected. “Look out at that wing and watch when I pass my hand over this sensor.”
Emily leaned against the console for a better perspective, and once Brian was able to drag his eyes from the enticing image of her jean-clad bottom, he glanced over her shoulder. At first it seemed imperceptible, but he could distinguish the undulation of the wings, as if they were skimming across a wave.
“Okay,” Emily stood back up, and her eyes collided with Brian’s. There was a pleasant blush on her cheeks that gave him a wholly male sense of satisfaction. “So, they work?”
“No,” Colin shook his head forcefully. “In my design there are no external moving parts. Nothing to stir up sediment, nothing to disturb the ocean floor. This craft is supposed to glide along underwater with absolutely no wake, as if it were the sea itself. And well,” he paused, bending over for a better view of the wing, “the real purpose of this puppy is to bore through ice. Deep ice. Celestial ice. You don’t need movable wings to get through Europa’s ice. They’re what you would call, cosmetic—designed to look cool on the space voyage.”
He moved closer to the window, holding his hand up in a gesture similar to Vanna White. “The body of the Hyperion will heat up and emit a series of gaseous substances intended to continually melt its surroundings. You can’t chance getting twenty miles down and being trapped forever in the ice.”
“Barcuda looked at the schematics and just started making conjectures?” Emily injected. “The idea that this craft could be used for exploration on Jupiter’s moon turned him on so much that he started production without the full picture. And now that he’s so close, he realizes that he needs your latest electrical drawings.”
“Right,” Colin bounced his head, “but he is off on the compound of acid that needs to be excreted. And the bone density monitor was never installed. Microgravity is a bitch. Nobody would ever survive the journey with the Hyperion like it is right now.”
“And so,” he looked around the cabin, “can you guess why I’m here.”
Brian caught Emily’s brow crease. “No,” Her eyes sought his and Brian could only shrug in conjecture.
“Sabotage?” He offered.
Colin seemed impressed and grinned exuberantly. “Exactly.”
“Sabotage?” Emily’s voice rose enough to make Colin wince. “Are you insane?”
“Some people say so.”
Her mouth twisted with pain. “Yeah, well some people don’t know their ass from—”
“Emily,” It wasn’t that he relished being the voice of logic, but Brian suddenly understood this complex young man. And with that, he began to develop a certain level of respect for Colin Brennan. “At this point, I think Colin is right. Sabotage is the best form of revenge.”
She whirled on him. “You condone this? Why?”
Brian drew in a deep breath. “I condone it because I saw the woman I—because I saw you hunted down by a group of fanatical stooges blindly following the orders of their egotistical leader, a psycho who would think nothing of killing you and your brother to get what he wants.”
Her mouth formed a small o.
In a way, Brian was pleased that he was finally able to render Emily speechless. Of course he wasn’t pleased to have almost let loose an outlandish declaration. Why did he say that now? And the blank look on Emily’s face wasn’t doing anything to allay his doubts.
A vacuum of silence siphoned the air from the craft, while Emily’s eyes fixed urgently on Brian’s.
“Keep your eyes wide open before marriage, and half shut afterwards.”
They turned in unison to look at Colin, but he tipped his head to the right. “Don’t look at me, Ben said that.”
It was impossible not to glance at the vacant doorway as Brian shook his head and expected to suddenly see a man dressed in colonial splendor.
“Brian,” Emily began in a tight voice.
“Look,” he held his hand up. “I’m only saying that Colin is correct here. If he feels that the Hyperion is a hazard to anyone that commands it—well Barcuda is too far gone. He won’t care about logistics. I’m guessing he has already sold this to the highest bidder, and if they want this out in space, he will send it out there—vulnerable, a death trap for anyone that mans it. Or he’ll drill it deep into the Antarctic sea and some poor crew will be frozen in place.” He paused and then added, “Either way, people will die.”
In Colin, Brian saw limitless wisdom in those cerulean eyes. The engineer nodded in silent communication, making Brian wonder if he was also a tad psychic.
“Sabotage it so it can never leave this building. Destroy it, so that it can never be reconstructed.” Brian offered.
Colin nodded enthusiastically and the wise countenance was swiftly replaced by the fervor of youth.
“You’re both insane.” Emily stared aghast.
Slow in coming, but deliberate in its culmination, a smile formed and she whispered, “let’s do it.”
Emily caught Brian studying her with a combination of curiosity, concern, and God help her, the one unidentified emotion that plagued her. He had feelings for her, but to what extent she could only hypothesize. The notion still amazed her. All along, she knew she was falling deeper under his influence. First, that heated connection of their hands in the hospital, and then the sound of crackling energy inside her head that said this is something that will change your life. Then, my God, that kiss on the streets of Saratoga, and later, at Edelweiss…she knew she was in over her head—wanting a man she felt was out of her league.
When Brian showed up at the cabin, Emily was scared, and yet some inexplicable feminine side to her was excited to see him again. For as dire as the reason for his presence at the cabin, there was no denying the magnetism between them. But could such a stoic, intelligent, desirable man ever fall in love with her?
Did it matter?
Were any of them going to leave NMD today?
“Are you sure, Emster?”
Emily heard her brother’s voice. It was insecure and sought her validation as it always did.
She would be there for him. She would always be there for him.
Emily scrunched her nose in thought and asked of her genius brother, “So what’s the best way to go about this—with a hammer?”
“I said to hold on for a minute.” Colin sounded annoyed as he stared into the corner.
“I gather Benjamin proposes an alternate method?” Emily turned towards the vacant doorway. “A partisan?”
With his head cocked to the side, Colin contemplated the empty space and nodded in consideration. “Ummm-no, won’t work.”
“What’s he saying?” Brian asked.
Brian’s casual acceptance of the colonial entrepreneur made Emily smile.
“He already started the demolition,” Colin launched a hand int
o his hair. “The Hyperion operates off a massive battery pack. Well, not giant. I had to keep it light. This craft would be heavy enough carrying all the equipment necessary for a sufficient exploration, but this batter—”
“He’s draining it?”
Colin’s gaze jumped back towards Brian with a secreted look of approval. “Yes,” he murmured. “That’s exactly what he’s doing.”
“Ben Franklin was always crafty that way.” Brian didn’t hesitate, “Maybe he can get into that panel and rewire the propulsion system—disable it permanently?”
“Exactly what Ben suggested,” Colin marveled.
Emily stared at Brian with her lips parted. “Taking up engineering now, are you, Morrison?”
Brian turned with an amused flash in his eyes. “Do you think I’m only used for muscle around here?”
She grinned. “If you got it—”
“Knock, knock.”
The kiss of steel against her temple was cold, cold enough to freeze her in place. She knew they were behind her, but as to how many, it was impossible to speculate. Along with the weight of the bleak muzzle, the air now teemed with menace, and though her head was locked in place, she noticed the grim narrowing of Brian’s eyes.
A muscle pumped on his jaw, but other than that imperceptible revelation, he remained motionless. Hatred emanated from him as he looked past her towards the unseen foe planting a gun to her head, but when his eyes met hers, for a fleeting moment his features softened. In that silent communication, Emily pleaded with him to be safe, above all be safe, and protect Colin.
As the gun bit uncomfortably into her skin, Brian’s glance shifted again beyond her shoulder. The menace that clouded his eyes made her shiver.
“It’s about time you got here, Morrison.” Behind her, Emily heard Barcuda’s raspy voice. It made chill bumps of displeasure pop up on her arms, like the effect of a high-pitched saw.
“I was about to say the same to you.” Brian answered soberly. Outward, he seemed collected, but the tension in his voice exposed his struggle.
Borrowed Time Page 19
