Gordon Korman: The Danger

It was unreal — a scene straight out of some swashbuckling adventure story. The very mud under their boots glittered from the pounds of gold dust that had been dispersed by the whirlpool of the sinking ship. It seemed as if every square foot of bottom silt held something of great value — gemstone-encrusted medallions and crucifixes, silver cups and plates, solid-gold candlesticks, even hatbands and collars made with braided gold. Dante was disappointed when the jewelry box he pulled out of the mud turned out to be bronze. Then he opened the lid and realized that the thing was packed to the top with huge pearls.

Adriana was on her knees, gathering loose gems, when she spied a strange shape half-buried in the sand. In surprise, she realized that it was wood — blackened and made rock-hard by the centuries at depth and pressure. Intrigued, she played her light over the carved contours and curves. The artifact had been broken on one end. She frowned. Why did the jagged angles of the crack seem so familiar?

When the answer came to her, she nearly cried out in amazement. This, she realized, was the most amazing find of all. Her heavy boots sinking in the mud, she carried the piece to the lift basket and dropped it on top of the growing mountain of riches.

When she looked up again, she saw the intruder.

It was moving slowly but steadily toward them, emerging from the darkness into the cocoon of light cast by the bell. She stared at the armored contraption that was cruising in, powered by twin thrusters. For a moment, she toyed with the possibility that the depth had driven her to hallucinations. This looked like something from outer space!

And then she recognized it. Tin Man, Poseidon’s one-atmosphere suit, sailing through the water like a humanoid submarine. Tad Cutter!

She tried to call out a warning to the others, but she couldn’t make her mouth work. How would the treasure hunter react to the sight of the wealth of Nuestra Señora being loaded up by someone else? He had already committed one murder out of greed.

The aluminum-plated suit cruised past the wreck site to the lift basket, not ten feet from Adriana. A bulky arm reached into the cage, and a mechanical claw hand closed on a small gold bar.

Despite her terror, the theft puzzled Adriana. Sure, the ingot was valuable. But it was small change compared to the fortune in the basket.

Star’s words came back to her: “It only takes one piece of treasure to put a claim on the whole wreck.”

We could lose it all if we don’t stop him!

Finding her helium-squeaky voice at last, she rasped a warning to the others: “Cutter!”

But Tin Man was retreating from her, gliding steadily away from the shelf toward the cover of the ocean’s cloak.

Kicking off his heavy boots for more speed, English dove for the suit like a linebacker. The comm. system clearly broadcast his “oof!” as he made contact. He hung on, struggling to lock onto the metallic shell.

“What’s going on?” came Star’s query from topside. “Did somebody say Cutter ?”

Adriana didn’t answer. She was already running in an awkward slow-motion gait, determined to help English, who was being tossed around like a rag doll by Tin Man’s hydraulics. The six-foot-five guide looked like a child next to the half-ton suit.

“Help, you guys!” Adriana cried, launching herself into the battle. She grabbed on to the suit’s huge leg and hung on for dear life.

“The bell!” English ordered in a strained voice. “Go to the bell! Vite! ”

“No!” Adriana shrieked. But his logic was clear. If English couldn’t handle this sea monster, what hope did a thirteen-year-old girl have?

But I can’t just leave him to fight alone!

With a superhuman effort, she scrambled up the fortresslike body. Now she could see Kaz and Dante plodding across the wreck site toward them, battling against the weights on their boots.

Henri was yelling in French over the comm. system, adding volume every time he got no answer.

English’s grunts were directed only at the interns. “Stay away!… go back!… the bell!…”

Straining, Adriana pulled herself up higher, until she was looking into Tin Man’s Plexiglas bubble.

A yelp of surprise escaped her.

It was not Tad Cutter in there, attempting to steal their find. The face inside the one-atmosphere suit belonged to Marina Kappas.

Aboard the RV Ponce de Léon , Chris Reardon crouched over the communications panel, flipping switches and pressing buttons.

“Come in, Marina! Do you read me?”

Cutter sat beside him at a small fold-down table, pounding the keyboard of Marina’s laptop. She had been trained on one-atmosphere suits in California. The technical manuals were saved on her computer.

“I found everything about Tin Man except where to oil the hinges,” he complained, opening files at light speed. “As far as I can see, we’re doing everything right.”

“Then she just stopped talking,” Reardon concluded. “I hope she’s all right.” He turned back to the microphone. “Say something, Marina. We’re getting nervous here.”

Lightning flashed, followed by a crash of thunder. “Weather’s getting close,” Cutter observed. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

Reardon frowned. “We won’t stay hidden forever. The storm will light us up.”

Cutter said nothing. He was staring in wide-eyed horror at the computer screen.

Reardon glanced at him. “What?”

In answer, Cutter swiveled the laptop so that his companion could see the display. It was a schematic diagram of a deep-ocean submersible.

“That’s not Tin Man,” Reardon pointed out.

“It’s Deep Scout !” Cutter exclaimed.

Reardon was confused. “Why would she need the specs of the sub? We never used it.”

“The accident!” Cutter’s voice was trembling. “English said it was sabotage! I thought he was crazy. But look.” He paged down.

Now the screen showed a close-up of the fiberglass plates that protected the temperature probe in the belly of the sub. “Those are the exact same plates that failed on Deep Scout .”

“So?” Light dawned on Reardon. “You’re not saying that Marina rigged the sub? My God, Braden Vanover died in that accident!”

Cutter looked pasty in the artificial light. “A submersible must have ten thousand parts. Marina has the drawing for only one of them. It can’t be a coincidence!”

“Don’t you understand what this means? She’s a murderer !”

Cutter was in a full panic. “And she’s down where there could be divers in the water! Maybe that’s why she isn’t answering us. Who knows what she could be doing?”

Reardon was shaking now. “Tad, I’m just in this for the money. No one said anybody was going to get killed!”

The decision tore Tad Cutter in two. A man was dead already, and more lives could be at stake. But if he warned the oil company’s ship, he would be giving up any chance whatsoever to recover the treasure of Nuestra Señora de la Luz , an operation he’d been planning for years.

He hesitated. A billion dollars. A life’s dream.

And then he pressed the intercom to Captain Hamilton in the wheelhouse. “Bill, hail the other boat.” He sighed. “And you’d better forget about buying that Ferrari.”

Far below, all four hard-hat divers were clamped onto Tin Man’s husk in a desperate attempt to wrest the gold bar from the iron grip of its mechanical claw.

Star’s agitated voice burst into their helmets. “What’s going on down there? Has it got anything to do with Marina?”