Authors: Kenneth G. Bennett
“Ring. Are those—”
“Diamonds. Yes.”
Winston Beck fell silent, then finally said, “Are you saying that if someone were to go through one of these tunnels, they would come out in a place where things like that are just…what? Lying around on the beach?”
“Yes. It appears so.”
Beck Sr. and his daughter exchanged glances.
They’d arrived on
Marauder
an hour earlier, Kate and Beck Sr., and made straight for the War Room, demanding to be brought up to speed on the “phenomenon,” regardless of the younger Beck’s whereabouts.
Kate had already told her father as much as she knew. Now Ring was filling in the blanks.
Ring waved at the wall of screens behind his console. “The diamonds and a plethora of other images were uncovered in Joe Stanton’s final thought capture. The files are immense. My staff pulled some highlights while I was on my way back from Bellingham, but there’s much more to review and analyze.”
“This was all in Stanton’s head?” Beck Sr. asked. “Or
is
in Stanton’s head?”
“Yes. Though he’s probably not even aware of most of it.”
Beck Sr. lifted his scotch, then set it back down—an enormous gold ring on his right hand clinking the glass as he did so. “But why are these images in his head at all?”
Ring shrugged. “Stanton and the orca are connected. Able to communicate.
“After their initial encounter, Stanton’s brain changed. Physically. Structurally. Grew a cluster of highly specialized cells that permit this flow of information to occur. Same thing happened to our divers. To the gillnetter.
“But the process is far from perfect. Works great, orca-to-orca. Not so great orca-to-human. There are…side effects.”
“Yeah,” said Kate. “Like death.”
Ring nodded. “Most of the thoughts the whale transmits land in Stanton’s subconscious. A good thing, considering the volume of information. If he were actually aware of it all, he’d go insane faster than he already is.”
The room went quiet again, all eyes on the screens.
After a while, Kate said, “Why beach images? Why
these
pictures?”
Ring sipped an Orange Crush. “T-197—or Mia—did a test run with her inner circle. That’s my theory, anyway.”
“A test run?”
“Or a test dive, if you like.” He pointed at a tunnel image on one massive screen.
“They went through, and out the other side to have a look around. To see if passage is actually possible.”
Fresh images flowed onto the screens—more “highlights” from the mother lode of thoughts taken from Stanton’s mind. And the spectators gasped.
They were looking at the broader landscape now—not just tight sections of beach. And the views were jaw-dropping. Southeast Alaska came to mind—it was like that—but Southeast Alaska on steroids.
Redwood-sized trees blanketed the coastline and stretched to the horizon in all directions. Vast tracts of stupendously tall, healthy, emerald forest. Verdant, mist-shrouded valleys.
Himalayan-sized mountains towered over the land, snowcapped peaks and glacier-draped ridges begetting dizzyingly tall waterfalls flashing like tinsel in the morning light.
More images materialized: Massive undersea cliffs, and sunlight filtering down through gently swaying forests of kelp. Rocky, wild shoreline, tide pools, and broad stretches of black sand. Some of the screens showed whales—members of Mia’s entourage—holding themselves vertically in the water. Treading water like they were looking around. Big black eyes shining in the dawn.
“This behavior,” said Ring, “is called ‘spyhopping.’ They’re literally checking out their surroundings.”
No one spoke as new images of jewel-speckled black sand flashed on-screen.
Sheldon Beck broke the silence from the darkness behind the other viewers. It was the first time he’d said anything since entering the room.
“I read somewhere that when the first Europeans arrived at the mouth of the Vaal River in South Africa, they found diamonds—gem-grade stones—in such abundance that they could fill a tin cup in a matter of minutes.”
The group stared at the diamonds—at a coastline from a landscape painter’s fantasy—and fell silent once more. But the vibe in the room had changed. There was tension in the air now. A fresh undercurrent of nervous energy. The younger Beck could feel it.
“How is this possible?” Beck Sr. asked. “What’s the mechanism?”
Ring turned. “We don’t know. We may never know.” He waved at the screens behind him. “Wormholes form all the time—physicists have demonstrated that. Cosmic pathways that blink in and out of existence. But it’s always at a subatomic level.
“T-197 may have tapped into such a phenomenon. Harnessed it. Magnified it. Replicated it. Or, she could simply be the catalyst for an anomaly destined to occur one way or the other.”
Beck Sr. said, “So these images—the place we’re seeing here—are, what? Another planet?”
Ring shrugged. “Yes, though where in the universe that planet resides is anyone’s guess. It may not exist in our universe at all.”
More images filled the screens, including some of the grainy tunnel pictures taken by the ROV. Taken in the real world—in the Bering Sea.
These snapshots lacked the crispness and quality of Stanton’s thought pictures, but they added abundant credibility to the argument that the tunnels were real. Actual physical structures growing in the Earth’s oceans, even as they spoke.
The tension in the room increased, until Kate asked a question. It was a question Beck had been waiting for. A question he’d suspected his sister or father would ask, sooner or later.
“You say the whales will use these tunnels. Other organisms, as well. What about people? Could people venture through?”
Ring manipulated the controls on his desktop and answered without turning. “It should be possible. I think so.”
Ring turned and looked at her, his face backlit by the wall of monitors. “But the window of opportunity will be short-lived. I’m almost certain of that. The tunnels are coming on, powering up, to serve a purpose. But they won’t stay open a moment longer than they need to.
“Think of the wormhole example. Hard to tame. Hard to control. T-197—Mia—will open the door and hold it open as long as she has to. But no longer.”
Beck Sr. shifted in his seat. Rattled the ice in his glass and muttered, “Then it’s futile. If what you’re saying is accurate, the tunnels will open and close before anyone can use them. End of story.”
Ring nodded. “Yes. Unless they can be forced to remain open.”
Kate and Beck Sr. stared at the genius.
“You can do that?” asked Beck Sr., struggling to conceal the eagerness in his voice. “There’s a way?”
“I think so,” said Ring.
Kate and her father leaned close to one another in the darkness and whispered back and forth. The conversation lasted several minutes.
The younger Beck couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the tone of the whispers and the body language told half the story.
He thought they resembled a king and queen debating the fate of their empire.
At last they stopped and looked his way. Both rose from their seats.
Winston Beck—scotch in one hand—took a step toward his son and tilted his head at the far side of the War Room. “May we speak with you privately?”
Beck stood. Smiled. Looked at his father and sister. “Absolutely. I’ve been waiting for this.”
INSIDE THE PRIVATE CONFERENCE ROOM
with the door closed, Winston Beck looked his son in the eye. “You’ve done well,” he said.
Beck the elder was a big man with a big head—literally and figuratively—and abundant steel-gray hair. He had a thick chest and shoulders, meaty hands and a heavy, gravelly voice. Used to giving orders and getting things done, he rarely engaged in pleasantries and hardly ever complimented anyone. But he was praising his son now, and the younger Beck didn’t know what to make of it.
Beck Sr. said, “You stumbled on something intriguing and pursued it with tenacity and determination. I like that.”
The younger Beck shrugged. “Ring had a lot to do with it.”
“Of course. But you led the investigation. Brought in the requisite experts and shuffled your workload to push everything forward. Despite…external pressure.”
Beck Sr. glanced at his daughter as he said this, and Beck caught the look. He was shocked. His father was giving him credit for something. Praising him and criticizing his sister. It was unprecedented. Never happened before. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned the conversation would go. Not at all.
“To me,” his father continued, “you’ve demonstrated evidence of a savvy, entrepreneurial streak. A streak I frankly didn’t know was there.”
Beck Jr. was at a loss for words so he said, simply, “Thank you.”
The elder Beck nodded. “It’s a style of thinking that could prove critical to the future of Erebus Industries.”
Beck watched his sister as their father paid him this final compliment, and his attitude morphed from surprise to suspicion.
The words coming from Beck Sr.’s mouth were positive—no doubt about that—but Kate’s body language didn’t jibe with the unexpected praise. Based on what their dad was saying, she should look hurt. Defeated. Or at the very least, miffed. But she didn’t. Quite the contrary. She appeared confident; cocky, even.
They have something up their sleeve
, Beck thought.
Of course they do.
The elder Beck said, “But now, we need to coordinate our efforts. Focus our energies.”
Beck wondered what this meant. He waited.
“Katie and I will take this investigation from here. We need you to turn your attention to the Ivory Coast. You’ve got to carry the ball on that.”
Silence.
So, there it was.
Kate finally lifted her eyes, a small, smug smile on her face.
Beck Jr. nodded slowly, as if considering all he’d just heard. “That all makes sense,” he said. “I agree.”
His father and sister looked surprised.
“Really?” said Kate.
Beck nodded. “Sure. I’ve thought a lot about this. We can’t jeopardize the health of the company because of one exploratory venture–no matter how…unusual it is.”
Beck Sr. wagged his head in agreement. “I’m glad you see this as a team effort, Sheldon. It’s another example of your growth and development as a leader.”
Inside, the old man was baffled by his son’s reaction. His son had a horrific temper. He’d expected outrage; had even told his bodyguards to be ready to intervene, if necessary. Instead, the boy was agreeing with him. He didn’t know what to make of it.
The younger Beck said, “The Ivory Coast deployment is huge. I agreed to lead it. And, I will.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “You’re taking this pretty well.”
Beck shrugged. “Father’s plan is the only logical course of action. Divide and conquer. We need to explore this phenomenon–even if it proves to be a dead end. And, we must carry through with the deployment, or risk losing future contracts. I’m the most logical person to lead the Ivory Coast effort. I’ve been prepping for it for months.”
Beck did his best to sound sincere while simultaneously trying to conceal his growing excitement—a perverse feeling of joy welling up inside him.
“I don’t like the situation,” he said to his dad and sister. “But it’s the only course of action that makes sense.”
Winston Beck nodded solemnly. “I think that’s a very cogent assessment of the situation.” He laughed and looked at his two grown children. “You know,” he said, “there are people in the DOD who strategize about alien invasion. Absolutely true. Taxpayer money actually goes for that. There’s enough of a perceived threat.”
He waved at the monitors outside the conference room. “But here we have a threat from another sort of alien—another species—inside our own planet. From creatures no one has ever suspected. As the head of Erebus Industries, I need to lead this investigation. Explore what it means for national security.”
Beck nodded and kept a congenial expression on his face. Inside, he felt only contempt.
Right
, he thought.
National security. Doesn’t have anything whatsoever to do with gaining access to a new, unexplored world with unimaginable natural resources. With wanting to plant your flagpole before anyone else.
Out loud, he said, “Of course. And the good news is, you two are now almost up to speed on the investigation. I’ll arrange transport to the
Outlier
tomorrow and run the deployment from there. It’s a good ship.”
Kate studied her brother. “What do you mean,
almost
up to speed?”
Beck sighed. Hesitated. Let the drama build. “We found something I haven’t told you about. In the Bering Sea. Where our divers first got sick. Something neither of you has seen.”
“Well, what is it?” asked Kate.
“Something we can’t explain, but that may be important when it comes to navigating the tunnels.” Beck looked at them. “Ring thinks it might be a sort of “key.” Though his reasoning is beyond me. Would you like to see it?”
Winston Beck raised an eyebrow. “It’s on board? Yes, of course we want to see it.”
The younger Beck stood, tapped on his phone, and spoke to someone on the other end. “The hyperbaric chamber,” he said. “Ten minutes.”
Kate squinted at him. “It’s in the hyperbaric chamber?”
“Under pressure,” said Beck. “Ring’s idea. We can observe it through the windows.” He moved for the door and motioned for them to follow. “Come. See for yourself.”
THEY EMERGED ONTO
MARAUDER
’S
broad weather deck: Kate and Beck Sr. and their two bodyguards, followed closely by the younger Beck and one of his men—Allen Dodd.
It was cold on the upper deck—summer or no—and wind whistled and shrieked around the craft’s carbon-fiber bulwark as
Marauder
pushed south through Swanson Channel, driving hard in moderate seas against a strong incoming tide. The brisk, moist air tasted of the open ocean not far ahead.
They could see a smattering of lights on Moresby and Stuart Islands—cabins and vacation homes—and the warm glow of Victoria, BC, farther south. There was even the occasional sparkle and flash of fireworks to the southeast—on the U.S. side of the border.