Steve Alten - Vostok

“There’s more than just an alien ship down there. Inside is a portal, a junction that allows one to access the higher dimensions. Jonas, I can go back in time to a different point in my life and prevent these events from ever happening.”

“A time machine? That’s what this is all about?”

“Not exactly. How did the entity explain it? Every choice we make creates an infinite number of alternate universes. David, for instance, could have leapt the sub over the net or gone under it, or swerved around the tanker. The possibilities are endless, and each choice leads to a parallel existence. Consciousness is the variable that differentiates a potential outcome from reality. I died multiple times in Lake Vostok, but after each death the entity kept bringing me back, until I followed the path where I acquired the knowledge of zero-point energy it intended me to have. The portal allowed me to explore multiple existences until I found the one that led to my survival.”

Jonas fought to dissect the information. “Say you go back and jump into another parallel universe… how can you be sure it’s one where David survives, where your son’s not kidnapped?”

“The extraterrestrial that communicated with me definitely has an agenda, but it’s one that I sincerely believe is intended to help humanity. I’ll ask it to allow me to go back to a multiverse where I can change the events that took place in Washington, D.C. Before the congressional hearing takes place, I’ll use the media to expose MJ-12’s false flag event, preempting it while saving hundreds of lives. That will force the Colonel to cancel the attack, prevent the kidnapping, and remove me from today’s events.”

Jonas stared at me, red-eyed. “There’s no guarantee your absence today will change a thing. David may still die.”

“I won’t stop jumping multiverses until I find one where I can warn you.”

Mac remained skeptical. “Were you able to warn yourself when you kept dying and reviving in Lake Vostok?”

“No. But the entity can read my mind. It will know what I seek. One thing I do know: if Colonel Vacendak gets to the portal first, it gives the military access to a device that can alter our species’ evolution in the cosmos. And that makes us a threat to these E.T.s. Humanity’s already in timeout for detonating nuclear weapons; there’s no way MJ-12 will be allowed to access the higher dimensions. Our species will be annihilated before that happens.”

Jonas turned to Mac. “Have Mr. Reed prepare one of the Mantas for launch. Get Dr. Wallace everything he needs, and pack my ECW gear as well. I’m going with him.”

Mac looked shocked. “Jonas, you don’t honestly believe this nonsense?”

“I’ve been drinking, so I’m not sure what I believe. All I know is that Zach was given information seven years ago that could have altered our planet’s future for the good. Maybe this was just a trial run to see if humanity was ready. Regardless, if there’s even a remote chance of altering what happened today and saving David, then I’m willing to take it.”

The two men embraced.

“Mac, see to it that my son is taken to Davis Base and shipped to Monterey for the funeral. If his mother calls again, tell her—”

“Tell her nothing,” I said. “Mac, whether you believe this or not, no one can know. The people on board that research vessel, if they suspect I’m alive and chasing down their sub, they’ll go after your loved ones just like they went after mine.”

Jonas sat down to think. “Zach’s right. We need to fly both of our families somewhere safe until we return.”

“Terry’s in shock, Jonas. She won’t go anywhere until after the funeral, and there will be no convincing her otherwise.”

“Contact bin Rashidi, tell him I need to speak with the crown prince. I’ll ask him to arrange a special ceremony at the Dubai aquarium, honoring David and all those who died today. You call Terry. Tell her David’s body was flown to the United Arab Emirates along with the other dead crewmen. Tell her I’m already en route. Then have your wife arrange a private jet to fly both our families to the Middle East as soon as possible. I’ll ask the crown prince to safeguard them and delay the ceremony until you and I arrive.

“If this works”—Jonas looked hard at me—“there won’t be a funeral.”

“And if it doesn’t…? Never mind. C’mon, Zach, let’s get you what you need.”

Angus and I loaded the Manta with climbing equipment, flashlights, and extreme weather gear for two, while Mac stocked the sub with food and water. He wanted to add a few guns, only I stopped him. Violence had already gotten our species into enough trouble with our extraterrestrial visitors. The last thing we needed was to end up in a shootout, fighting over an advanced technology we lacked the morality to use.

Jonas had sobered up by his third cup of coffee. After a final trip to the toilet, he climbed into the port cockpit, lowered the acrylic glass over our heads, and signaled to Cyel Reed to flood the chamber.

Mac’s voice came over the radio. “Jonas, can you hear me okay on this frequency?”

“Yes. Are you in place?”

“We’re en route. What’s your ETA?”

“Twenty minutes, using a biologic pattern.”

“Roger that. Angus and I will be ready.”

The keel doors opened, releasing the Manta into a sun-lit emerald sea. “Jonas, what about the Liopleurodon ? Should I go active on sonar?”

“It’s probably dead. If you start pinging, that research ship will know we’re down here.” Jonas kept the sub close to the sea floor, our movements and speed intended to mimic those of a giant manta ray.

We were less than two miles from MJ-12’s surface ship when our sonar monitors began to flicker.

“We’re being jammed. Zach, how close are we to that hole?”

“Six thousand feet. And the Tortuga ’s sitting over it like a mother hen.”

“Then what we need is a fox. Mac, you ready to ruffle a few feathers?… Mac, can you hear me?”

The radio spat back static, followed by an unnerving quiet that ended with a crunch as the sub’s belly settled upon the silt-covered sea floor.

“Sonuva bitch, our engines just powered off.” Jonas fought the suddenly rigid controls. “Your pals aren’t playing around this time. Everything’s down — including our life-support system.”

The supertanker Tonga pushed its way south through Prydz Bay at a steady eight knots, her starboard flank hugging the eastern face of the Amery Ice Shelf.

Mac stood on her bridge next to my father, both men’s binoculars focused on the surface ship less than three nautical miles away. The Tortuga ’s bow was pointed at the Loose Tooth Rift, her starboard flank exposed.

“Captain, any response from the Manta?”

“Nothing but static, Mr. Mackreides.”

“Shut down your engines. Full reverse. Mr. Al Nahyan, you may begin transmitting the message.”

The radio man spoke with an urgent British accent. “Mayday, mayday. This is the United Arab Emirates research tanker Tonga . Our rudder is badly damaged. We cannot navigate. We strongly advise you to move your ship or risk a collision.”

Mac stared at the steel vessel growing larger in his binoculars. “Angus, I believe it was Robert Burns who once said, ‘No man can tether time or tide. Time is short and the tide is out.’”

Angus grinned. “Those tha’ cannae be counseled cannae be helped.”

“Who said that?”

“My father, before he’d beat my arse with a hickory switch. Jist a wee love tap, he’d say.”

“What say we give MJ-12 a wee love tap?”