The Hunt For Atlantis

He could feel the swell of the waves, his suit bumping against Kari’s. Five, four… He was gasping for breath now, his muscles about to give up…

Clear!

He broke the surface, blinking at the fat red sun hanging above the horizon. Straining, he pulled Kari up with him. Water streamed down her helmet. Under water it had been impossible to gauge her true color; now, even in the warm sunlight, her skin looked pale and blue.

The suits were closed with multiple clips and locks, meant to be removed with the help of two people, but that wasn’t an option. Chase clawed at the seal around her neck, numbed fingers struggling to unfasten the latches. He wrapped his arm around the helmet, fighting for enough leverage to turn it.

It twisted, the locking pins coming free. He pulled the helmet off and tossed it aside. Kari’s head lolled.

“Kari! Come on, wake up!” Chase patted her cheek, trying to hold her upright so water wouldn’t slosh over the neck of her suit. She needed the kiss of life, but it would be impossible for him to remove his helmet without letting go of her.

“Kari! Come on!”

She took in a sharp breath, then coughed, gasping for air. Her eyelids fluttered. “Eddie?” The word was barely more than a whisper.

“Hey, hey, you’re alive!” said Chase, breaking into a huge smile. “We made it! Are you okay?”

“I feel sick… and I have a really bad headache.”

“But you’re alive, that’s the main thing. Give me a hand, help me get this fucking bucket off my head.” She tugged at his helmet latches. “Aw, shit.”

“What?”

He gave her a defeated look. “It’s not going to matter. We’re still a hundred miles out in the Atlantic, and our ship’s in pieces all over the bottom. It’s a bit too far to swim.”

To his surprise, she smiled. “I don’t think we’ll need to swim.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can see Captain Matthews rowing towards us.”

He looked around. “Well, fuck me.” The lifeboat was a hundred yards away, but Matthews was clearly visible in his white uniform at its prow, waving. “So Qobras left ’em alive…”

“That’s not his style,” said Kari, puzzled but relieved. “Something must have happened; he must-Oh God.” She grabbed Chase’s arm. “Nina! He must have taken Nina!”

“Why would he do that? He wanted her dead-why would he change his mind now?”

“She must know something,” Kari realized. “Some thing we saw in the temple, some piece of information valuable enough to trade for the crew…”

“Well, we can ask ’em in a minute. Come on, get this helmet off.”

“Actually, it’s probably better if you keep it on until you’re in the boat.”

Chase frowned at her. “Why?”

“Because I get the feeling your suit radio is the only one we have…”

Five minutes later, Chase finally took a breath of fresh ocean air.

Kari was right: the Evenor’s crew had been set adrift with no radio. Once the lifeboat rejoined its fellows on the fringe of the debris field from the sunken research vessel, one of the engineers set to work on the deep suit’s transmitter. It wouldn’t have much range, but it didn’t need it. The Gulf of Cadiz was, by maritime standards, a busy place. However, as Matthews pointed out, they couldn’t use it just yet-there would be no point issuing a distress call if the closest vessel was Qobras’s ship.

Chase and Kari used the interim to learn what had happened aboard the Evenor. “So Nina voluntarily gave herself up to save you?” Kari asked.

Matthews nodded. “Even though Qobras told her he was still going to kill her. We all owe her our lives.”

Kari fell silent, staring pensively towards the sunset. Chase put an arm around her. “Hey, hey. She’s still alive, for now. Whatever she knows, she won’t have just blurted it right out to him. She’ll drag it out for as long as she can. We can still find her.”

“How?” Kari asked gloomily. “Even if we trace his ship back to port, he won’t be on it. He’ll have been picked up by a helicopter or gone ashore in a speedboat long before we can get anyone to intercept it.”

“We’ll work something out.” Chase leaned back, looking up. The first stars of the night had appeared, twinkling gently in the clear sky.

“Actually,” said Matthews, “Dr. Wilde had a message, although I’ve got no idea what it means. She said to give it to you if I saw you.”

Chase sat up again. “What did she say?” “Not much. Just that… she’d send you a postcard.” “A postcard?” Kari’s forehead creased, questioning. Her confusion increased as Chase started laughing, a cackle of sheer glee. “What? What does it mean?”

He managed to bring himself under control, a wide grin practically splitting his face in two. “It means,” he announced, “that I know exactly where she’s going.”

TWENTY-THREE

Tibet

The sun had not yet risen over the Himalayan peaks, but Nina could see the predawn glow to the east as the helicopter clattered through the mountains.

She sat under guard in the rear compartment of the aircraft, an armed man on either side. Opposite were Qobras, Starkman and Philby. Her former mentor hadn’t once dared to meet her gaze during the flight.

Following them, she knew, was a second helicopter carrying more men and something concealed inside a large crate. She doubted it was anything good.

“Go on,” prompted Qobras. “You were saying about the eruption…”

“Yeah.” The image of the final inscriptions from the temple returned to her mind’s eye. “The island was subsiding, and the volcano at the northern end was active-they knew the writing was on the wall. I don’t think they realized how fast the end would come when it finally happened.”

“Not fast enough,” said Qobras. “Some of them escaped.”

Nina shook her head. “You really do have some serious issues with the Atlanteans, don’t you? Considering that their empire was destroyed eleven thousand years ago, it’s a long time to be holding a grudge.”

“Their empire was never completely destroyed, Dr. Wilde,” Qobras said. “It still exists, even today.”

“Oh, this would be the mighty and invisible Atlantean empire, I guess.”

Qobras ignored her sarcasm. “If you mean ‘invisible’ in the sense that nobody knows it is there, then yes, you’re right. The descendants of the Atlanteans are still among us, seeking control over those they believe to be their inferiors. The difference now is that their control is not solely through force of arms, but through force of wealth.”

“Sounds like we’re in conspiracy theory territory now,” Nina scoffed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that the Atlanteans are really the Illuminati.”

“Hardly. We are the Illuminati.”

Nina stared in disbelief. “What?”

“Not in the sense that I’m sure you’re imagining. Our organization dates back to long before any of the sects that adopted the name from the sixteenth century onwards. And the name, Illuminati, is derived from Latin,