MEG: Nightstalkers (29 page)

*   *   *

Jonas was seated at a desk in front of Zach’s laptop when the Highland-born scientist rushed in. “Dr. Wallace, you’re just in time. I’ve been looking at this file—”

“That was encrypted!”

“My mistake. I was looking at this
encrypted
file and came across a map of Antarctica with a few GPS time codes that require, well … a bit of explanation.”

Jonas spun the laptop around so the screen faced Zachary. “I see you’ve got both the
McFarland
’s location and the two Dubai ships David is aboard accounted for. Today is February the eighteenth—no problem there. But somehow you’ve charted my son’s location on March third. Tell me,
professor
, how the hell do you know where my son will be … thirteen days from now!”

Zach sat down on the edge of his cot, his eyes focused on the screen. “Jonas, there are things I can tell ye and things I cannae.”

“Well, you’d better damn well tell me the things I want to hear or we’ll be dropping you off at the nearest research station and you can thumb your way home.”

“That would be a mistake.”

“For who?”

“Potentially, for a lot of people … yer son included.”

“From this map I can assume the lake you were in was Vostok. How the hell did you manage to access a lake buried beneath two miles of ice?”

“Two and a half.” Zachary ran a hand through his hair, pulling out the ponytail. “Seven years ago I was recruited for a mission—a mission to send a three-man submersible equipped with
Valkyrie
lasers through the Antarctic ice cap intae Lake Vostok. The purpose of that mission, as it was explained tae me, was purely scientific exploration. We’d go down, collect microbes, document any life forms we happened across, then pop back up through our own burn hole, riding the pressure generated by the ice sheet. For the record, I didn’t want tae go—at least not at first. Eventually my ego saw this as a Neil Armstrong-moon walk opportunity. But I had serious reservations.”

“Who funded the mission?”

“I was told it was a U.S., Chinese, and Australian venture, but that all turned out tae be a lie. The mission was a black ops venture, my presence lending credibility tae the story concocted as an excuse tae get surveillance equipment intae Vostok before the Russians.”

“Surveillance equipment? I don’t understand. What could possibly be buried in a fifteen-million-year-old subglacial lake that would interest the Pentagon?”

“Not the Pentagon—I never said it was the Pentagon. The group in charge was multinational; they play by their own set of rules and essentially run the planet. The banks, the oil companies, the military industrial complex, the energy sector—especially the energy sector. Interest in Vostok began many years ago after SOAR—the Support Office for Aero-physical Research, sent a reconnaissance flight tae conduct magnetic resonance imaging over Antarctica. When they flew over Lake Vostok their magnetometers went bonkers. Scientists from Japan and Germany later confirmed the presence of a magnetic anomaly in the subglacial lake along a rise located in its eastern sector. The affected area packed enough juice tae power every city in the world for the next hundred years.”

“What is it? What’s down there?”

Zach shook his head. “We’re not going tae talk about that. Whit we’re going tae talk about is destiny.”

“Destiny?”

“Specifically, the potentiality of multiple possible outcomes. The philosopher, John McTaggert, developed two theories about time and outcome. McTaggert’s A-Theory stated that the only real time is the present. The past is gone and the future exists only as a probability distribution, a potentiality of the possible things that can happen. Since the future isn’t set, it’s not real.”

“Makes sense. And his B-Theory?”

“That the past, present, and future all co-exist simultaneously. Since the past determines the future, everything that has happened since the Big Bang was predetermined. Quantum physics is based on B-Theory, that everything that could possibly happen has already happened, that time is dependent purely upon the observer. The overriding question—is it possible tae alter the present by changing the past?”

“I don’t know. I’m a former phys. ed. major masquerading as a marine biologist; what the hell do I know about quantum physics?”

“Let’s go back in time thirty-five years. Whit if this Paul Agricola fella hadn’t been in the Philippine Sea the day ye piloted a three-man submersible intae the Mariana Trench? Would ye have still crossed paths with that Megalodon? If not, would your life be completely different right now? Different wife … different kids?”

“I don’t know. I knew Masao Tanaka, so when his UNIS drones stopped working seven years after my naval dive he probably would have still sent Terry to recruit me to pilot one of their submersibles into the Mariana Trench. If everything is predetermined like you said, then you might board a different train, but all tracks lead to similar outcomes.”

Zach nodded, Jonas’s words having a deep impact. “Seven years ago I boarded my own train—a submersible that escorted three of us intae Lake Vostok. Seven years later, the ripples from that experience forced me tae return. My family was in trouble, the world on the brink of a disaster—I desperately needed tae change the present by altering the past. I knew the source of that magnetic anomaly would allow me tae do so, if I could reach it. The powers-that-be knew it too and were out tae stop me.”

“I don’t understand. You’re here in Antarctica to go back to Lake Vostok?”

“No, Jonas. That return trip to Vostok already happened. I succeeded in rerouting the past because a close friend of mine sacrificed his life in order tae get me back tae that magnetic anomaly. On March third—thirteen days from now—we began a thirty-six hour marathon through subglacial rivers that led us intae the lake. We reached Vostok aboard one of the Manta subs your engineer is currently reconfiguring in the hold.

“Ye, Jonas Taylor, were the pilot.”

23

Aboard the
Tonga
31 Nautical Miles Southeast of Macquarie Island

The crew of the
Dubai Land-I
found Tom Beckendorf and Brandon Cornatzer afloat in their life raft, surrounded by a sea of sharks drawn by the blood and blubber of the decimated elephant seal pack. The two scientists were taken aboard the trawler while the ship’s sonar operators and lookouts nervously scanned the ocean, fearful of what might lie beneath the dark swells.

The arrival of the
Tonga
eased tensions on the trawler. The scientists were transferred to the supertanker, where they were treated for hypothermia. Fiesal bin Rashidi offered to fly the men on his helicopter back to Macquarie Island—if they provided him with the radio frequencies used to track the two bull elephant seals.

The scientists agreed.

Nixon’s tracker had been crushed when the big male had been devoured by the creature. Humphrey had met a similar fate, only the bull’s tracker had survived its journey into the Lio’s stomach. Its signal was detected moving south on course zero-nine-six at fourteen knots. The depth of the device—at 13,013 feet—indicated the
Liopleurodon
was following the Hjort Trench, the southernmost extension of the Macquarie Trough.

*   *   *

The eastern sky paled as it gently pushed out the night, dawn’s appearance still forty minutes away. Jacqueline Buchwald stepped out onto the
Tonga
’s main deck, the frigid air forcing her to pull her jacket’s fur-lined hood over her head. She found David Taylor standing by the bow rail with his friend Monty, the two men looking out onto a black sea specked with ice.

Monty leaned out over the rail and spit. “Did you know that during the first two years of a baby’s life the kid’s parents will miss six months of sleep?”

David removed a metal flask from his jacket pocket and took a swig. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Only if you’re planning on having a baby.” Monty looked over his friend’s shoulder. “Speaking of which, here comes your baby mama.”

Jackie joined them by the rail. “Monty, would you mind if I spoke to David in private?”

“Why would I mind?”

She waited thirty seconds. When Monty refused to move, she walked away, waiting for David to follow.

Monty winked. “Baby mama.”

“Shut up.” David joined Jackie, a gust of Antarctic wind forcing them to seek refuge behind a generator.

Jackie huddled next to him for warmth. “You didn’t sleep in our stateroom. That’s four nights in a row.”

“I’ve been staying with Monty.”

“David, drinking until you pass out … it’s not a good thing.”

“Was that all you had to say?”

She looked into his eyes. “Actually, I wanted to apologize. The other day with the engineer … I was out of line. Sometimes all of us, myself included, think of you as a pilot version of Superman, that you can pull off any maneuver in those subs—including nearly being eaten. We forget that you’re only twenty-one; that just because you pilot the Manta without fear doesn’t mean you’re not afraid. The whole thing about losing Kaylie … I should have been more understanding. The truth is—I really do care about you.”

“Really?” David looked at her coldly. “Because you told me our relationship was strictly about sex. No love, no emotion.”

“I was wrong. These last few days … I’ve really missed you.”

“Don’t go there. Kaylie played the same mind games with me in Dubai during the pilot selection process. I was pretty gullible back then, not anymore.”

“So that’s it then?”

“No.” He took another drink from his flask. “We can still be sex buddies.”

“I don’t think so. If that’s all you want then you can hook up with one of those Arabian supermodels.”

“I did.”

Jackie’s eyes teared up. Unleashing the hurt, she punched him in the chest with both gloved fists, pushing him aside as she stormed off, the wind buffeting her as she crossed the open deck.

Monty joined David behind the generator. “First she loves you, then she hates you?”

“Something like that.”

“I think I’ve seen this love story before. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back. Girl gets eaten by monster.”

“You really are a dick, you know that?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who told my girlfriend I slept with one of the reality show bimbos. By the way, which one did you sleep with?”

“Shut up.”

“No seriously, which one—just in case Jackie questions me under threat of torture. Was it Jihan? Zeina? Hoda? It wasn’t Nesrin, was it? That girl is crazy.”

“It was the one you
didn’t
sleep with!” Ducking his head, David jogged across the deck, heading back inside.

“Yeah, well I slept with all of them, Junior, so you’re not foolin’ nobody!”

Aboard the Hopper-Dredge
McFarland
Weddell Sea, Antarctica

Jonas Taylor felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, Zachary Wallace’s words causing an almost hypnotic effect. “Let me get this straight; you’re telling me that, in some alternate reality that no longer exists I piloted the Manta through eight hundred miles of subglacial rivers into Lake Vostok?”

“Don’t dwell on it, it’ll make ye crazy. Think of it as a dream.”

“How can it be a dream? I remember my dreams; I don’t remember any of this!”

“Ye don’t remember because the event I described was jist one of an infinite number of potential realities. Did it actually happen? Yes and no. Yes, from my perspective it happened because it allowed me tae return tae Vostok and set things right. No, it didn’t happen because it was replaced by the reality we’re living through right here and now.”

“How can you replace a reality … wait, you mean time travel?”

“It’s complicated. Suffice it tae say that returning to Vostok reset my life tae the day I was recruited for the mission. Instead of accepting the offer, this time around I turned it down, essentially cancelling the mission, and along with it, the potential reality that had ye piloting the Manta intae Lake Vostok. Still confused?”

“Uh … yeah.”

“Jonas, as far as the world kens there has never been a manned exploration of Lake Vostok. Trust me, that’s a good thing.”

“What about March third? What happens then?”

“That’s the trillion dollar question. The last time we lived through this moment together three distinct events took place, all at the Amery Ice Shelf on the opposite side of the continent. First, ye and Mac arrived in the
McFarland
tae rescue me from some seriously fucked up people. Then the
Liopleurodon
showed up, along with yer son. The powers-that-be then launched a submarine designed by Skunkworks that was equipped with a Europa-class
Valkyrie
laser and bow plates which could be superheated to temperatures exceeding 1,500 degrees—essentially a vessel designed tae move through hundreds of miles of subglacial rivers. We followed the sub’s borehole all the way intae Lake Vostok. Again, that was then, this is now. Variables are already shifting between the two realities. For instance, back then Mac accompanied ye tae Antarctica, Terry remained at the institute. It’s a small difference, but differences are a good sign that this reality remains independent of that last disaster.”