Polar Shift

'I want Lucifer's Legion disposed of,' Gant's voice said.

'And how do you propose we go about doing that?'

Impossible. It was the conversation he and Gant had after the foxhunt.

'Go up to Margave's island in Maine, tell them that you have a gift for them. Say it's from Margrave. Send them to hell, where they belong, with a glass of the bubbly.'

All eyes in the room were on Doyle.

'It's not what you think,' he said, brandishing his most charming Irish smile.

Doyle never had a chance. He'd been doomed the moment he got the disk. He would never know that disk came from Barrett, not Gant. And that the bug Austin had planted under the garden table had done its work well, picking up Gant's instructions to murder the Lucifiers.

He got up and tried to make a break for the door, but one of the Lucifers tripped him and he fell to the floor. He got to his feet, grabbing for the gun in an ankle holster, but he was pushed back to the floor and relieved of his weapon. He stared up at the six satanic faces ringed around him.

He couldn't figure it. The Lucifers knew he had poisoned them, yet they were smiling. Doyle would never understand that the opportunity to kill surpassed all other emotions, even fear of their imminent death.

He heard the knife drawer slide open, and then they came for him.

Epilogue

Two hundred miles east of Norfolk, Virginia, the NUMA research vessel Peter Throckmorton and the NOAA survey ship Benjamin Franklin cut their way side by side through the glassy green seas like a pair of modern-day corsairs.

While the bows hissed through the water and the decks became soaked by flying spume, the atmosphere was subdued in the Throckmorton's dimly lit remote-sensing control room. Spider Barrett sat with his eyes riveted to the Mercator projection of the world displayed on the screen in front of him. Although the center was air-conditioned, perspiration gleamed on Barrett's tattooed head.

Watching Barrett's fingers fly over the keyboard were Joe Zavala, Al Hibbet and Jerry Adler, the wave expert Joe and Austin first met aboard the Throckmorton. Several of the ship's technicians were gathered in the room as well.

Barrett stopped and rubbed his eyes, as if he were about to admit defeat. Then his hands moved over the keys like those of a concert pianist. Blinking red dots began to appear on the world's oceans. He leaned back in his chair with a wide grin on his face. 'Gentlemen,' he said grandly, 'we have liftoff.'

The center echoed with applause.

'Remarkable!' said Dr. Adler. 'I can't believe that there are so many breeding grounds for rogue waves.'

Barrett clicked the cursor on a dot. A display of statistics appeared, representing sea, weather and current conditions at that particular location. The most important information that appeared was a threat assessment detailing the potential and probable size of a giant wave.

The exercise brought forth another round of applause.

Zavala took a phone out of his pocket and called the Benjamin Franklin. Gamay was waiting with Paul for his call in a similar control center aboard the NOAA ship. 'Tell Paul that the eagle has landed,' Zavala told her. 'Details to follow.'

He clicked off and walked to a corner of the room where he had left a rucksack. He opened the rucksack and pulled out a couple of bottles of tequila and a stack of paper cups. He poured a round of tequila, and raised his cup in the air.

'Here's to Lazlo Kovacs,' he said.

'And to Spider Barrett,' Hibbet joined in. 'Spider has made a force for destruction into something good. His work will save the lives of hundreds and possibly thousands of mariners.'

Barrett had put his mind to work on the flight back from the South Atlantic Anomaly after he had seen the uncontrollable power that had been unleashed. He was trying to think of a way to use the Kovacs Theorems for beneficial purposes. After the plane touched down in Washington, he vanished for several days, then he showed up unexpectedly at NUMA headquarters and ran his idea by Al Hibbet.

What he proposed to Hibbet was breathtaking in its imagination and scope, yet remarkably simple. His plan was to use watered-down versions of the Kovacs electromagnetic waves to detect anomalies below the ocean floor that were suspected of causing surface disturbances. Every oceangoing vessel of a certain size would be outfitted with a Kovacs sensor mounted on the prow. The sensors would constantly broadcast information, which would be compiled with satellite observations and global electromagnetic field readings.

The data were fed into computers, analyzed and rebroadcast as warnings of breeding areas for giant waves. Ships could then chart courses around dangerous breeder areas. It was decided to conduct sea tests in the vicinity of the giant waves that had sunk the Southern Belle. Because of its interest in ocean eddies, NOAA was asked to participate, which got the Trouts involved.

The two ships rendezvoused over the site of the sunken Southern Belle. A wreath was dropped into the water in remembrance of the ship's crew. Then the field tests began over a period of several days. The tests uncovered several glitches, which were quickly remedied. Now, with the system an obvious success, the mood in the control room had become downright raucous-especially after it had been lubricated with generous shots of tequila.

At one point, an ebullient and slightly inebriated Al Hibbet turned to Zavala and said, 'It's a shame Kurt can't be here. He's missing all the fun.'

Zavala smiled knowingly. 'I'm sure he's doing fine.'

Karla Janos came out of the tunnel blinking like a mole. Her face was dirty, and her one-piece jump suit was covered with dust. She shook her head in wonder, still impressed by the scene that confronted her eyes. A temporary village had sprung up on the grassy bowl at the bottom of the caldera. At least two dozen large tents housing facilities for sleeping, cooking and research were laid out in neat rows. Several helicopters were parked nearby.

The area around the tents bustled with activity. Access to the crystal city had been improved by drilling a tunnel and clearing away the rocky debris that was in the way. Cables snaked into the tunnel from gas-powered electrical generators. A steady stream of scientists and assistants was moving in and out of the city.

Karla was elated and exhausted at the same time. The scientific crews had been working twenty-four hours a day on three shifts. Some, like Karla, had become so involved in their work that they had worked more than one shift. She tilted her chin back and gulped several breaths of fresh air. In the blue-gray light, she saw a speck come into view over the rim and begin a descent into the valley.

As the object neared, she could see that it was a large, colorful canopy with a human dangling below. It couldn't be. Hoping against hope, she walked away from the tents to a clear area and madly waved her baseball cap in the air.

The paraglider had been descending in a spiral, but it turned in her direction, swooped in low and landed only yards away. Kurt Austin unbuckled himself from the harness and rolled up the canopy. He walked over with a grin on his face and said, 'Good morning.'

She had thought about Austin a lot in the past few weeks. Their encounter had been short and sweet. Then she was off to Siberia. But there were many times she wished that she had gotten to know the handsome NUMA man better.

'What are you doing here?' Karla asked with a combination of joy and awe.

'I've come to take you to lunch.'

She glanced at her watch. 'It's three o'clock in the morning.'

'It's lunchtime somewhere. I didn't come all this way to have my invitation rejected.'

She shook her head in disbelief. 'You're crazy.'

Austin's blue eyes sparkled with amusement. 'Insanity is part of the NUMA job description.' He took her hand. 'As the old Sinatra song goes, 'Come fly with me.' '

She brushed a strand of blond hair out of her eyes. 'I've been working all night. I'm a mess.'