James Rollins - Deep Fathom

Fielding nodded. “For the past week, we’ve been trying to find out what triggered so many points along the Pacific plate’s edge to go active at the same time, what triggered this catalytic reaction.”

“And?” Nafe said.

Fielding pointed to each concentric ring drawn on the map, starting at the outermost and ticking down each smaller ring. “By triangulating data from hundreds of geologic stations, we’ve been able to trace the direction of intensity, zeroing in on the true epicenter of this entire series of quakes.”

“You mean all these quakes may have originated from a single bigger event somewhere else?”

“Exactly. It’s called plate harmonics. A strong enough force striking a tectonic plate could send shockwaves radiating out, causing the plate’s rim to blow out with activity.”

“Like a pebble dropped into a still pond,” Ruzickov added. “Generating waves on the shorelines.”

Nafe’s brows rose. “Do we know what this ‘pebble’ might be?”

“No,” Fielding said, “but we do know where the pebble struck.” The head of OES continued to draw his fingertip down the map until he reached the centermost circle, a tiny red ring. He tapped his finger. “It was right here.”

Leaning closer, Nafe studied the map. It was only empty ocean. “What’s the significance?”

Ruzickov answered, “That circle is where Air Force One crashed.”

Nafe gasped. “Are you saying the crash of Air Force One caused this? That Bishop’s jet was this pebble we’ve been talking about?”

“No, certainly not,” Fielding said. “The quakes started hours before Air Force One crashed. In fact, it was the quakes in Guam that required the President’s evacuation. But either way, a plane crash would not yield a fraction of the force necessary to trigger a harmonic wave across the Pacific plate. Instead we’re talking about a force equal to a trillion megaton explosion.”

Nafe settled back onto the sofa. “Are you saying, then, that such an event occurred down there?” He nodded toward the tiny red circle.

Fielding slowly nodded back.

Ruzickov spoke into the silence. “Jeb, that’s all we’ll need for now. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Fielding reached for the map.

“Leave it,” Ruzickov said.

The man reluctantly pulled back his hand. He gathered up his other papers and stood. “Thank you, Mr. President.”

Nafe lifted a hand, dismissing him.

As Fielding moved off, Ruzickov said, “And, Jeb, your confidence in this matter would be appreciated. This stays between us for now.”

“Of course, sir,” Fielding replied, then left the room.

When he was gone, Nafe spoke. “So what do you think, Nick?”

Ruzickov pointed to the map. “I think this discovery may be the most important find of this century. Something happened out there. Something that might be related to the crash of Air Force One.” The CIA director stared Nafe full in the face. “That’s why I wanted you to hear about this tonight, before the official announcement tomorrow, before we commit ourselves fully to our current plan of blaming the Chinese.”

Nafe shook his head. “I’m not changing our position. Not at this late stage of the game.” He scowled at the concentric rings. “All this is just…just science. Not politics.”

“I agree,” Ruzickov said with a firm nod. “You’re in charge. It is ultimately your decision. I wanted you to be fully informed.”

Nafe felt a surge of self-pride at the CIA director’s support. “Good. But Nick, what about all this other information? Can we keep it buried?”

“Jeb’s my man. He won’t talk unless I tell him to.”

“Good, then tomorrow’s announcement will go along as planned.” Nafe leaned into the sofa, relieved that nothing would upset his schedule. “Now what did you mean about this being the discovery of the century?”

Ruzickov remained silent for a few moments, studying the map. “I’ve been keeping abreast on all reports from the crash site. Did you know that all the wreckage’s parts are magnetized?”

“No, but what does that matter?”

“The chief investigator, the deceased Edwin Weintraub, theorized that the parts were exposed to a strong magnetic force shortly after settling to the ocean’s bottom. I also read reports that the salvage operation’s submersible experienced some strange effects while down there…something associated with the discovery of a new crystalline formation.”

“I still don’t understand the significance.”

Ruzickov looked up. “Whatever is down there was strong enough to shake the entire Pacific plate. As Jeb said, a force equal to a trillion megatons. What if we could harness that power? Discover its secret? A supreme new energy source. Could you imagine that firepower at our fingertips? It could free us of the Arab’s stranglehold on our oil supply…power weapons and ships to dwarf any other military. There would be no end to the possibilities.”

“Sounds pretty far-fetched to me. How can you harness a onetime event at the bottom of the ocean?”

“I’m not sure yet, but what would happen if some other foreign nation were to get hold of this power? Jeb is not the only scientist in the world. In the months to come, someone else might devise a similar map and go to investigate. Those are international waters out there. We couldn’t stop them.”

Nafe swallowed. “What are you proposing?”

“Currently, we are uniquely situated to explore this site without raising suspicion or outside interest. We’re just recovering our lost President’s ship. It’s the perfect cover. We’ve got men and ships on-site already. Commander Spangler has it cordoned off. Under this cover, we could send down a research team.”

Nafe watched as Ruzickov’s eyes lit up. “So you’ve already thought about this?”

“And I’ve developed a tentative plan,” he said with a grim smile. “Off the coast of Hawaii, a deep-sea project, jointly run by the National Science Foundation and a consortium of Canadian private industries, has been under way for the past decade. They have developed and constructed a self-contained deep-sea research lab…equipped with its own submersible and ROV robots. It could be on-site and manned in four days. The two missions — recovering the last pieces of Air Force One and our clandestine research — should merge together smoothly. No one would suspect.”

“Then what’s the first step?”

“I just need your okay.”

Nafe nodded. “If there is something down there, we can’t risk it falling into foreign hands. You have the go-ahead to proceed.”

Ruzickov collected the map and stood. “I’ll contact Commander Spangler immediately and begin the operation.”

Nafe pushed to his feet. “But, Nick, after we set things in motion tomorrow, no one must know about this. No one.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. President. Commander Spangler will lock everything down tight. He has never failed me.”

Nafe swung around his desk and settled into the executive chair once again. “He had better not.”

Jack and the Deep Fathom ’s crew sat around the table in the ship’s wet lab. The marine laboratory was one of the roomiest spaces on the small ship, a convenient meeting hall — if not the most homey. There were only hard metal stools on which to sit, and lining the cabin’s shelves were hundreds of clear jars of marine-life samples, preserved in brine or formaldehyde. The rows of dead animals seemed to stare down upon the assembled crew.

“I’m still not buying this explanation,” George said heatedly. “I’ve wired into the news reports all day long, heard the so-called experts spouting on CNN, CNBC, and the BBC. I’m not believing a word of it.”