David Golemon - Legend

"Okay." Jenks reached over and uncapped a clear plastic cover over a red button that had a computer-generated glowing word: start. "Here we go," he said as he pushed the button and clamped down even harder on his cigar.

Suddenly there was a deep rumble throughout Teacher as the twin diesels fired up. The digital gauges and controls were illuminated blue and green, and the tachometer read that the engines were idling at an even one thousand rpms. Red gauges showed the critical areas of the boat's function, such as engine status, fuel, temperature in each section of the boat with hatch status, and ballast. The blue and green noncritical areas, such as battery state, amperage, speed indication, water depth, and river width, flared to life, the main computer generating their ever-changing numbers and gauges. A large display in the center console allowed the pilot to see a virtual computer-generated display of the area directly to the front of the boat; with a flip of the switch, it could change to a split-screen version that showed all sides including the stern, even underwater. Sensors and a sonar device automatically and constantly relayed signals that the computer interpreted, to generate an ever adjusting image of Teacher 's surroundings.

"I'll be damned," the master chief said as he slapped the major on the ass. "How 'bout that, the bitch is breathing!" His laughter was infectious; Jack could hear the cheers of dozens of men and women throughout the boat as they all heard and felt the powerful engines come to life.

"See, they love her, too," Jenks exclaimed as he removed his cigar and smiled widely.

Jack winked. "Either that or they're just happy the air-conditioning's on," he said as he pulled the semitransparent sliding door aside and left the cockpit.

Jenks, his smile fading, watched as Jack left. "Eh, what does he know," he mumbled as he flipped a toggle switch on the thick right arm of his command chair. "Stand by in the stern and bow to bring up the anchors," his voice rumbled more forcefully throughout the boat on the speakers embedded in every section.

Carl pushed a button mounted on the wall of the engine room. He could hear the winch engage, which controlled both the bow and stern anchors. Then there was a satisfying click as the winch stopped. He gave Mendenhall and Sanchez a thumbs-up.

Carl met Sarah and Doctors Nathan and Ellenshaw at the base of the large spiral staircase in the section four lounge that led to the upper and outermost deck of Teacher . They went up and Carl opened the large acrylic glass bubble. They climbed out into the heat. A ten-by-ten-foot section in the center of the boat just aft of the radio and radar tower allowed them a view of the river. Three sections to their front, they saw Jack and Virginia climb out on deck and then sit in one of the many weatherproof chairs lining the gunwales.

They felt Teacher shudder as Jenks applied power and she slowly backed away from the crumbling riverbank. She backed up until her large stern was well out into the main channel of the Amazon, and then they heard her transmission shift into forward gear and Teacher almost leaped out of the water. Her tri-hull rode gracefully, cutting through the greenish water with ease as the large boat started her maiden voyage down the most famous river in the world on her way to a tributary that to the modern world existed only in legend.

Two hours later Collins, Everett, and Mendenhall were outside the glass-enclosed cockpit while Sarah sat with Jenks in the copilot's chair, talking about, what else, the chief's boat.

Corporal Sanchez had volunteered to be the expedition's cook, much to Mendenhall's dismay, and he brought them a tray of coffee. He handed two cups through the door to Jenks and Sarah, then left the tray on the centerline table in the navigation department.

"I don't think the master chief likes me," he said, wiping his hands on a towel.

"That man doesn't like anyone except this woman," Carl said as he patted the composite side of the boat.

"Ain't normal," Sanchez called as he walked back through the hatch and back to his cooking.

Jack returned to the large glass table. Padilla's map had been scanned and placed in the main navigational computer. Laid before them in detail were items that had been added to the map by placing known terrain colors and features from U.S. Geological Survey RORSAT photos. The display was "current position" capable, meaning they could see their position the entire way on the computer-generated map. In the next few hours they hoped to have telemetry set up with Jet Propulsion Labs in Pasadena to allow them access to live images from Boris and Natasha.

Carl spun a steel ball embedded in the side frame of the map table and slid forward along the image of the river from their current position. While he sipped his coffee, he studied the area that worried them the most. The Padilla map showed only the winding river; on the more scientific survey maps that had been superimposed over the Spaniard's, there were only trees and jungle. From above, there was no river to speak of, as it had disappeared from view under the rain forest canopy. A computer line marked where the tributary should be according to the Padilla map beneath it.

"There are so many variables — width, depth, and other factors — that could stop us right in our tracks," Carl said.

"Well, I guess that's when we'll see if Teacher is as magical as the master chief seems to think she is," Jack said.

"I think she'll be," Mendenhall offered. "He's right; she's something, isn't she?"

Both Carl and Jack looked over at the sergeant but didn't comment.

"That doesn't mean that I like him or anything, just that he built a great-lookin' boat," Mendenhall said defensively. "I think I'll go check on the arms locker and scuba gear," he said, feeling like a traitor for praising their pilot. He picked up his coffee and excused himself.

"What's going on in navigation? Any change in course? We still trying for that phantom cutoff onto that Black Water Trib?"

Jack hit the com button and selected Cockpit. "No change in course; according to Padilla, the tributary is hidden, looks like a normal bend. So stay to the right of the center current," Jack said as he released the switch.

As the two men looked at the screen they saw the cutoff. It was marked by a rendering of trees that had grown so thick even in the Spaniard's time that Padilla had made a black X through the drawing of the sun. Carl mumbled something.

"What was that?" Jack asked.

"I guess that's where we fall off the edge of the world."

Jack didn't respond; he just nodded.

Three hours later, with Carl at the helm, Jenks and half the team were at dinner in the crowded lounge in section four. At only twenty-three and a half feet wide, Teacher lacked what would be properly known as elbow room. Sarah, Virginia, and Jack sat as far away from the master chief as they could to avoid any unnecessary charm he might add to their conversation. They were all enjoying their view of the passing river in a most unique way: the bottom port windows were actually underwater, and the green flowing river eased by like a huge aquarium before them.

"Are we prepared in case we run into our French friend?" Virginia asked, forsaking her chance at Sanchez's ham and cheese casserole, instead opting for a cup of coffee and salad.

"It all depends on circumstances, I guess. He's no fool; he'll wait until he feels he has the advantage in numbers, or surprise. I figure he'll wait until we've done most of the work; that's his pattern, from what I've learned."

Sarah listened but didn't comment, so Jack knew there was something on her mind.