David Gibbins - The Gods of Atlantis

‘Rebecca will be happy,’ Costas said, munching. ‘That really closes the lid on the bad guys.’

Jack nodded. He felt the box in his suit pocket containing the phial he had persuaded Saumerre to give him. Once that was deposited in a secure containment facility and destroyed, the lid would truly be closed. He put the radio back to his ear and spoke for a few more minutes. Then he put it down and laughed out loud, the first time he had done that in months. He grinned at Costas. ‘You remember a promise you made to a new friend a few days ago?’

‘Huh?’

‘You’re going to need a tuxedo.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘Lanowski’s getting married.’

Costas dropped his sandwich. ‘You’re kidding me.’

‘Nope.’ Jack offered him the radio. ‘Speak to Macalister if you want. It’s the biggest news since we found Atlantis.’

Costas waved away the radio. ‘You mean they actually met?’

‘Yesterday, in Bermuda. It was love at first sight.’

‘I can’t believe I offered to be his best man. And that he accepted.’

‘You’re his new best buddy. You were the one who took him on that submersible ride over Atlantis.’

‘Yes, but…’ Costas pointed at the mess of tuna and cucumber on his wetsuit. ‘Me? In a tuxedo?’

‘Apparently they want the wedding to be in the submersible. It was that picture you took of him at the controls, the one he posted of himself on the dating website. That was what really did it for her. She’s crazy about him. But Macalister has a plan. As well as a PhD, she’s a Vogue model. We can sell the photo rights. It’ll be the eccentric celebrity wedding of the year. And you’ll be smack bang in the middle of it.’

‘My God,’ Costas moaned, putting his hands to his face. ‘If only I hadn’t opened my big mouth.’

Jack pulled his hat down to cover his eyes, then lay back on the pontoon. ‘If you need any help with the best-man speech, just let me know. I did it for Maurice and Aysha.’

Looking dejected, Costas attempted to recover the debris of his sandwich from his lap, stuffing a piece of bread and tuna into his mouth. Then he pointed up, gesturing, and Jack tipped back his hat and shaded his eyes. He could see the speck of a helicopter, getting bigger as it approached, the noise reverberating off the sea. A minute later it swept low past them, then turned around and came in to hover a few hundred feet away, only about twenty feet above the waves. Jack saw Paul wave from the cockpit, and he waved back. The side door slid open and a female wetsuited figure jumped out, falling like an arrow with ankles folded and arms held tight, disappearing with barely a splash into the rotorwash below the Lynx. Moments later the diver’s head appeared and a hand was raised giving the okay sign, then a mesh bag containing fins and a mask was dropped alongside. As the helicopter slowly turned to port and tilted forward, accelerating away over the waves, the diver put on the mask and fins and swam quickly towards them, dropping down underwater about twenty feet away and powering up the side of the boat until she was half inside, leaning on her elbows on the pontoon. She pulled off her mask and shook her long dark hair, tied up in a ponytail. ‘Hi, Dad. Uncle Costas.’

‘Rebecca.’ Jack smiled broadly. ‘I thought you might drop in.’

‘Jeremy’s in the helicopter,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Paul’s gone off for a perimeter sweep, just to make sure there aren’t any more bad guys lurking around.’

‘I don’t think he’s got anything to worry about,’ Costas said, looking at the empty pocket in his boiler suit where the grapple gun had been. ‘We’re well and truly alone.’

‘What did you find?’

Jack took a swig from his water bottle. ‘It was fantastic. Symbols carved on a cave wall. I want you to see it with your own eyes. As soon as Seaquest II is on station this afternoon, we’ll go in there again. Just the three of us.’

‘And Jeremy,’ Rebecca said. ‘Costas qualified him in the sea off Troy a week ago.’

‘Okay.’ Jack smiled. ‘And Jeremy.’

‘Nice one with the palladion, by the way, Jack,’ Costas said, fishing for another sandwich. ‘Never did like that thing. Too many bad associations. And I like the idea that we’ve put something real at the bottom of the Bermuda Triangle. Maybe it’ll keep the pirates away from this place.’

‘You found it?’ Rebecca said. ‘Where is it?’

Jack paused. ‘It got, um, entangled. With Saumerre. They’re somewhere down below us. About five thousand feet deep in the abyss. They probably haven’t even hit the bottom yet.’

‘And then there’s one of Lanowski’s megaturbitides,’ Costas said. ‘About another thousand feet of silt.’

‘And then boiling-hot magma,’ Jack added.

‘So Saumerre really is gone?’ Rebecca said quietly.

Jack reached out and put his hand on hers. ‘It’s finished.’

She looked away, closing her eyes, then looked back at him, blinking away the salt. ‘I didn’t want to say anything. But ever since I was kidnapped last year, it’s been really difficult. Knowing he was still out there, not knowing whether it was going to happen again.’

‘It’s all taken care of.’

‘Have a sandwich,’ Costas said, his mouth full, offering her the bag. ‘They’re a bit flattened, kind of like toasted sandwiches without being toasted, if you see what I mean, a little soggy but surprisingly good.’

Rebecca smiled, wiping her eyes, then peered into the bag. ‘A kind of underwater picnic. Really cool idea, Costas, one of your best. Thanks. Maybe later.’

Jack lay back again. ‘There’s a phrase from the Epic of Gilgamesh. “The dream was marvellous, but the terror was great. We must treasure the dream, whatever the terror.” I feel like that now: as if those few symbols on that cavern wall were like the shining light at the end of the tunnel, like the star of heaven that once fell on those people far back in prehistory and became their guiding light, as if the dream of this discovery has drawn us through the terror and we’re at the other end.’

‘Do you remember the Walter de la Mare poem, about the silence surging softly backwards?’ Costas said. ‘I know what you mean. It’s as if that great clamour from the past has gone, the cries of the shamans trapped in that chamber in Atlantis, the awful feeling Maurice had as he entered the bunker. He told me on the phone about his aunt Heidi, how she said for her it was as if the Nazi period had never ended, as if the tide of those terrible years had always seemed to sweep ahead of her.’

‘Maybe now it’s begun to turn,’ Rebecca said quietly.

‘So, Jack,’ Costas said, finding something in the bag that might once have been a banana. ‘What are we going to do with all that gold?’

‘ Gold? ’ Rebecca exclaimed

‘Tons of it. In the U-boat.’

‘ U-boat? ’

‘Yep. There’s one of those down there too.’

Jack looked at Costas. ‘You remember last year we took Hugh Frazer to that home outside Auschwitz where they looked after elderly survivors of the concentration camp? We saw the old lady with the harp, the girl Hugh had seen in the camp near Belsen all those years before. There are very few of those survivors left now. But Frau Hoffman said she’d worked as a volunteer at a children’s hospice near that place. I was thinking what a U-boat full of gold could do for a place like that. Nothing about atonement or restitution, nothing about the fact that a lot of that gold probably came from Jews and Poles, but simply to help bring happiness where there has been so little.’

‘Great plan,’ said Rebecca. ‘Can I be the one to talk to Frau Hoffman about it?’

‘I’m sure she’d love to talk to you,’ Jack said.