Clive Cussler: Polar Shift

"What about the coil?" Austin said.

"That gave us the biggest headache. I'll show you what we did."

Zavala led the way to the nose of the giant plane. Two people in coveralls were bent over a dishlike structure set up on a platform. Al Hibbet smiled when he saw Austin and Zavala walking in his direction.

"Hello, Al," Austin said. "Having fun yet?"

"The most fun I can remember since I got an electric motor for my Tinkertoy set. Karla has been a big help."

The other worker looked up and revealed Karla's smiling face under a baseball cap. "What the professor means is that I'm a great help holding a screwdriver."

"Not at all," Hibbet said. "Karla may not have a technical background, but she has an instinct for solving problems. She has obviously inherited her grandfather's genes."

"Glad to hear you're working well together," Austin said. "Joe said you had a problem with the coil."

"That's right," Hibbet said. "In the transmitter ships, they dangled the antenna below the ship. We were going to sling it under the fuselage."

"Would that be a problem during takeoff?"

"You hit on the problem. This is the radome for the newly designed antenna. I got the idea from some of the setups I've seen on early-warning aircraft. It was Karla's suggestion to redesign the cone to fit into the dome."

"I used to have guppies in my fish tank," Karla said. "They have a pouch under their chin that gave me the idea."

Hibbet whipped a plastic covering off a metal-and-wire construction about twenty feet across. The circular framework that sat in a wooden cradle was shaped like an inverted coolie hat. It was flat on top, with shallow sides coming to a point on the bottom.

"Ingenious," Austin said. "It looks like a squashed-down version of the cone antenna. Will it work as well?"

"Better, I hope," Hibbet said.

"That's good, because we've revised our schedule. We need everything ready to fly out by tomorrow morning. Can you assemble the final stages while we're in the air?"

Hibbet pinched his chin. "Yes," he said after a moment. "It's not the ideal way to do something this complex. We won't even have a chance to test the turbines. But we can start going down the punch list as soon as we mount the antenna and dome. We'd better ask Barrett for his opinion."

They climbed a gangway into the 747's vast interior. A line of sixteen squat steel cylinders, spaced evenly apart, ran nearly the entire 230-foot length of the airplane's cargo space. A network of cables connected the cylinders and snaked off in dozens of different directions. Barrett was kneeling over a cable between two of the cylinders.

He saw Austin and the others and got up to greet them.

Austin glanced around at the complex arrangement taking up a good part of the plane's enormous interior. "Looks like you've got enough power capacity to light up the city of New York."

"Almost," Barrett said. "It was a bit of a problem hooking up the power source, but we finally jury-rigged a system that should work okay."

"I'm more curious about the dynamos. Where did you get so many at such short notice?"

"Special order from NUMA," Zavala said. "They were going to go into some new ships before I borrowed them temporarily."

"New power source. New antenna. Is it all going to come together?"

"I think so," Barrett said. "That is, I'm ninety-nine percent sure, according to the computer models I've done."

Austin shook his head. "It's that one percent that worries me. Can we do it all by tomorrow morning?"

Barrett chuckled, thinking Austin was joking. Then he noticed the serious expression in Austin's eyes. "Something going on?'

Austin relayed Trout's account of the mysterious liner.

Barrett slammed his fist into his palm. "I told Tris months ago about my idea of using a single ship to concentrate the transmission. I even gave him the plans for the switch. He said it would take too much time. Guess I shouldn't be surprised he was lying again."

"About that schedule?" Austin said.

Barrett's eyes blazed with anger. "We'll be ready," he said.

Leaving Barrett to his work, Austin and the others climbed back down the plane's gangway. Austin asked where he could pitch in. Zavala ticked off a short list of last-minute supplies. Austin walked away from the activity where it was quieter and made his phone calls. In every instance, he was told that the material would be delivered quickly. He was walking back to the plane when he saw that Karla had followed him. She had evidently been watching as he made the calls.

"I've got a favor to ask," she said. "I want to go on the plane."

"This is the part where the hero says, 'It could be dangerous,' " Austin said.

"I know. But it was also dangerous back on Ivory Island."

Austin hesitated.

"Besides," Karla said. "What could be more risky than riding with you in a Stanley Steamer?"

Austin would have to tie Karla up to keep her from boarding the plane. He smiled and said, "Neither of us is going anywhere unless we get back to work."

She threw her arms around him and planted a warm kiss on his lips. Austin vowed to devote more time to pleasure after this job was done.

As they made their way back to the plane, a car pulled up. A tall figure got out from behind the steering wheel and limped toward them. It was Schroeder.

"What are you doing here?" Karla said.

"I'm more curious about how you got past the gate," Austin said.

"The usual formula. A combination of bravado and false identification."

"You're supposed to be resting in a hospital bed," Karla scolded.

"A hospital is not the same as a prison," Schroeder said. "They let you go if you sign a paper. Do you think I could stay in bed knowing you were doing this?" He gazed with wonderment at the plane under its bright lights. "Ingenious. Do you really think you can neutralize the reversal from the air?"

"We're going to try," Karla said.

"We? You're not going on this mission? It might be dangerous."

"You sound like Kurt. I'll tell you the same thing I told him. My family is responsible for this mess. It's my responsibility to help clean it up."

Schroeder laughed. "You're Lazlo's granddaughter, without doubt. Stubborn, just like him." He turned to Austin. "Take good care of her."

"I promise," Austin said.

Schroeder glanced at the bustling activity in and around the plane. "When do you expect to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," Austin said.

"This is one old dinosaur who knows when he's extinct," Schroeder said. "I'll be at the hospital waiting for your call. Good luck." He embraced Karla, shook hands with Austin and hobbled back to his car. They watched the car's taillights until they were out of sight, then Austin turned to Karla.

"We've got lots of work to do."

She nodded. Walking arm in arm, they made their way toward the huge aircraft.

While Austin's NUMA crew was in a frantic race to achieve the impossible, Tris Margrave was having no doubts about the imminent success of his project. Doubt was something foreign to him, and would never have entered his mind.

As the Polar Adventure plowed through the South Atlantic, he sat in his comfortable ergonomic chair behind a control panel built into the forward observation platform. His long fingers played over the controls like an organist in a great cathedral. He had started the dynamos as soon as the ship left port. Each generator was represented on the large computer monitor by a red symbol and number, which meant that it was active at a low level.

Red lines ran from the dynamos to the image of a cone. The cone was green except for its red point, indicating that a minimum amount of power was flowing into the huge coil lodged deep in the ship's hold. Margrave thought of it as the equivalent of idling a car motor.