David Golemon - Leviathan

Professor Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III, head of the cryptozoology department, had volunteered for cleanup on the level, and so he had been placed in charge of documenting, cleaning, and restoring the artifacts that had been damaged. Collins saw the professor was still very upset at the wanton destruction of the vaults. Jack watched the professor run a hand through his wild white hair.

"Colonel Collins, it is so very good to see you. I and my crypto department were very pleased to hear—"

"Thanks, Professor," Jack said, knowing he couldn't take one more pleasurable greeting at how happy they were he had returned from beyond the river Styx. "Vault 298907?"

"Oh, uh… there's not much left, I'm afraid. It's right here." He gestured to the large vault three enclosures down from where they stood. "It seems that vault and the two nearest it received the brunt of the damage, possibly because of its size, and its fragile and dangerous content."

"Dangerous?"

Ellenshaw looked at his clipboard. "Oh yes, it seems there were five hundred batteries inside the artifact — old, but with enough dried acid to have reacted with the fire, causing a considerable explosion."

"Thanks, Professor," Jack said, patting him on the shoulder and making his way to the large vault with the scorched steel door standing ajar. "And Charlie, it's good to see you, too."

Ellenshaw smiled, nodded, and then went back to work, with a last look back at Collins.

Jack had to use the strength of both arms to push the door open. The vault was filled with temporary lighting that cast shadows on the burned and broken remains of the submarine recovered in 1967. Jack remembered it had been one of the first artifacts shown him upon being assigned to the Event Group. It was also one of the more intriguing items he had ever seen during his time here.

Jack opened the file, standing next to one of the temporary light stands, and read the vault synopsis. Carbon-14 dating had placed the submarine's age at 150 years, plus or minus ten years. He lowered the file and looked at what remained of the skeletal shape of her hull. The iron had melted away during the intense heat of the fire, and her battery system, one that had even shocked the few engineers brought in from General Dynamics' Electric Boat Division, was a melted lump at the bottom of the artifact. At one time, you could clearly see that this was once a miracle of technology.

Jack had been told that it had possibly been the model for Jules Verne's Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea . At the time it was wholly believable, because you could still make out the spiked conning tower and rounded bow. At more than three hundred feet in length and displacing twenty thousand tons, she was almost the exact model of today's advanced attack navy boats.

"She's a mess."

Jack turned and saw Everett and Mendenhall standing just inside the vault.

"That she is. Tell me, Carl, you're a navy man. If this sub was built before or just after the start of the Civil War, how far do you think the technology would have advanced by the present time?"

Everett entered and tried not to splash sooty water on his jumpsuit. He dodged a hanging piece of electrical line and placed a hand on what was once the curvature of the spherical bow.

"I couldn't begin to estimate the advances this science would have made if it wasn't checked. You think we're dealing with the same people who built this?"

"Why not? It makes sense. The fact that they destroyed a link to their past is convincing enough, but seeing this—"

"From looking at the outside in, Colonel, the notes on this investigation really had nothing to say. At least nothing stands out that would make them want this artifact destroyed."

Everett and Jack turned and looked at Mendenhall. They never remembered the new lieutenant using such a long sentence before.

"What?" Will asked, wondering what it was he had said wrong.

"You're right, Lieutenant, that's all," Collins answered. "What were they afraid of us uncovering from this boat?"

Everett and Mendenhall were as perplexed as Jack.

"Whatever it is, it's in this file, and in this wreck. Either something found during the original forensics on the artifact in nineteen sixty-seven, or something we may find now. So, we need someone combing through the file, and we need another workup on the remains."

"And hope it all wasn't burned to hell."

Jack slapped the file into Mendenhall's chest. "Right, Lieutenant. You have your job. Grab anyone you need, form any team, and get me an answer."

Will took the file and almost dropped it in the dirty water; his expression said that the order would be hard to complete.

"Yes, sir…. Can I have any doc or professor I want?"

"Yes, just grab them and go. We need answers, Lieutenant, so get it done."

The first officer climbed the spiral staircase slowly, making his way into the observation lounge on the lowest deck of the conning tower. He knocked, opened the hatch to the captain's private suite, and saw her sitting in the large, high-backed chair, staring silently out of the thirty-five-by-twenty-foot port window at the passing sea outside of the pressure hull.

"Captain, I am sorry to disturb you, but I thought you would want to know that you were right in what the presidents of the United States and Venezuela would try to do. We have confirmed the sailing orders of four crude oil tankers from Portsmouth this morning. They have Royal Navy escort, with at least one Trafalgar class submarine shadowing them."

"Venezuela?"

"Two tankers with Chinese and Venezuelan escort vessels," Samuels answered, looking away from the captain as he did. When he looked back up, he could tell the captain was thinking with eyes closed, as was the custom for the master of Leviathan .

"Will we allow them passage, as you wished to do this morning?"

As he watched she opened her eyes, and the first officer saw that at the moment she wasn't medicated. Her eyes were clear and full of fire — hate-filled and angry.

The captain stood in the green-tinted sea reflection mixed with the darkness, and then stepped from the raised platform. She stepped slowly to the large rounded window and held a gloved hand to the thick glass, then leaned against it with a sigh.

"Captain, are you all right? Would you like the doctor to—?"

"The planned attack is ready?"

"Yes, Captain, but your orders were to avoid any further bloodshed."

"I have a change of orders for you. You will target the warships only. Leave the tankers, they are to go on their way unmolested. I suspect a small deceit, at least on the British and American side of the board. I also do not want one Chinese or British warship, or the Americans if they join them, to ever see port again. Loss of life be damned." The captain slapped at the glass and then took a step back. "They are testing the wrong person, James; explain to them in no uncertain terms how Leviathan can be in two places at one time."

"Perhaps we can meet with our guests first…. I mean, Captain, we have the time; these vessels will take a week or more to reach their destinations. We could avoid the loss of life while we explain why we have taken actions in the Gulf of Mexico."

"Mr. Samuels, we need fortitude in doing what needs to be done. We are not fighting for ourselves. There has been too much loss of sea life in the Med to lose what we have in the gulf. Now, please, do as I command."

The first officer bowed his head. "Yes, Captain."

"James, you have never hesitated in following my orders before now. Perhaps you had better explain your hesitancy in this instance."