The Ark: A Novel (12 page)

Grant was already asleep in the back, and despite a nap in the helicopter, Locke felt his own eyes drooping. Dilara, on the other hand, seemed wide awake. She had just returned from the plane's lavatory, where she had changed into a jacket, blouse, jeans, and boots Locke had arranged to be waiting for them on the tarmac. He wanted to ask her some more questions before he snoozed.

"Thanks for the clothes," she said. "I felt like a prison inmate in that jumpsuit."

"I don't think anyone would mistake you for an escaped convict, but I do think your new duds suit you better."

"And I never thanked you for rescuing us in the lifeboat. From what I heard, it was all your idea."

"Yeah, my crazy ideas sometimes actually work."

She looked back at Grant and shook her head. "How can he sleep like that after everything that's happened?"

"An old Army axiom," Locke said. "Sleep when you can because you never know when the next chance will be. He's just sleeping ahead."

"Sleeping ahead. I wish I could do that."

"You should try. We've got an eight hour flight ahead of us. But first, how about we chat?"

"Okay. Tell me something about yourself."

Locke grinned. "Like what?"

"Who was your boyhood hero?"

"Easy. Scotty from Star Trek."

"The engineer?" She laughed, a rich, throaty sound that Locke found infectious.

"What can I say? I'm a true geek at heart. Kirk was the hero, but Scotty was always the one saving his butt. And you? Don't tell me it was Indiana Jones."

Dilara shook her head. "Princess Diana. When I was young, I was a girly girl. I loved the dresses. But my father kept dragging me around the world, and archaeology became my passion."

"And Noah's Ark?"

"My father's passion."

"Sam Watson said your father actually found it."

"You don't believe him."

"I'm a natural-born skeptic. So no, I don't."

"Which part? That the Ark existed or that my father found it?"

"That a 450-foot-long ship carried all of the world's animals two-by-two upon waters that flooded the Earth."

"Many people believe the literal story in the Bible."

"And I'm sure you know that," Locke said, "for many reasons, it's simply not possible. At least, not without miracle after miracle. The story of the Ark took place 6000 years ago. At that time, wood was the only construction material used in boat making. The largest wooden ship ever made, a Civil War frigate called the Dunderberg, was 377 feet long."

Dilara looked dubious. "You just know that? What, are you a walking encyclopedia?"

"As the risk of bursting my aura of omnipotence, I'll admit I did a little research once we had the Internet connection back up."

"So you're saying Noah's Ark couldn't have been bigger than 377 feet long?"

"From an engineering standpoint, a purely wooden ship bigger than that is untenable. Without the iron frames and internal bracing that 19th-century ships had, a ship the size of Noah's Ark would flex like a rubber band. It would have sprung leaks in a thousand places. Not to mention that in a raging storm like the Flood, wave oscillations would have snapped the frame like a twig. The Ark would have sunk in minutes. Goodbye, human race."

"Maybe it was smaller than the Bible claimed."

"The size is only the first problem," Locke said. "Do you know how long it takes for wood to rot completely away?"

"In a desert climate like Egypt, thousands of years. We find wooden artifacts in Egyptian tombs all the time."

"And in a rainy climate?"

"Several hundred years if the wood isn't maintained," Dilara said. "Certainly less than a thousand years, even in alpine conditions."

"Exactly. Noah's Ark was supposed to have landed on Mt. Ararat, which gets substantial amounts of precipitation. Just look at all the collapsing barns from a hundred years ago. If those barns are already rotting, any traces of the Ark would have disappeared thousands of years ago."

"Believe me, I know all the arguments against it. My father believed in the Ark, but he didn't subscribe to the literal interpretation because of the logical problems with the story as it's given in the Bible. For example, there are 30 million species in the world, meaning Noah would have had to load 50 pairs of animals per second to do it in seven days, even if he could fit them all in a boat that size."

"Which he couldn't have, even if the Ark had been ten times bigger." They were getting on a roll now, each of them feeding off the other.

"Then there's the problem of the amount of food and water the Ark would have to carry," Dilara said. "This is one of my personal favorites. One elephant alone eats 150 pounds of food a day. So if you have four elephants, two Asian and two African, for just 40 days that's 24,000 pounds of food, which also comes out the other end. Now add in rhinos, hippos, horses, cows, and thousands of other animals. Eight people feeding all those animals and cleaning up after them would have been impossible."

"Not to mention smelly. And let's not forget the fact that it would take five times the amount of water there is on Earth to cover all of the continents. Melting the polar ice caps might put Florida under water, but no way would the oceans cover mountains."

Dilara looked impressed. "So you know some of the arguments against literal interpretation."

"Not really," Locke said. "But I know science."

"Not everyone takes the Bible literally. Some people see the story as an allegory. But even allegories usually have their bases in fact, so alternative theories have been proposed to explain the Flood story. Did you know that the Bible's story was the not the first?"

"I know that Flood stories are common themes across many cultures."

"But the Bible's story specifically seems to come from a tale told 1000 years before the Bible was even written. In 1847, archaeologists discovered cuneiform tablets that told the epic of Gilgamesh. Its story of the Deluge is remarkably similar to the one in the Bible, so some historians think the Jewish scholars who wrote the Old Testament based the story of Noah on Gilgamesh."

"You still have the problem that, scientifically, it ain't possible."

"Not literally, as written in the Bible. But in 1961, Bill Ryan, an oceanographer at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute, discovered that the Mediterranean burst through a dam in the Bosporus Strait sometime around 5600 BC. Until that time, the Black Sea was a freshwater lake 400 feet below sea level. When the dam burst, a waterfall 50 times greater than Niagara Falls filled in the entire Black Sea in a matter of months. Now imagine being a farmer living on the shores of the Black Sea at that time."

"I guess you'd have to take all of your family, animals, and belongings, and hightail it out of there."

"Possibly by boat," Dilara said. "With embellishment and a few added miracles, it could have turned into the story of Noah."

"I'll buy that. But it still doesn't explain how your father found the Ark, how he would even know it
was
the Ark, how it survived all those millennia, or most importantly, what it has to do with the impending death of billions of people, as your friend Sam Watson claimed."

Dilara sat back in her seat and looked out the window. She unconsciously stroked her hair as she thought. Locke caught himself staring at her, and he looked away just before she turned back.

"You're a real optimist," Dilara said. "Is the glass always half empty with you?"

"With me, the glass is too big. I'm just trying to zero in on the answer. It's the way I work."

"So how do we get those answers?"

"Sam said the name Hayden. It must have something to do with Rex Hayden's plane crash. I've arranged for us to get a first-hand look at the crash site. I'm guessing the plane was somehow brought down intentionally."

"Another bomb?" Dilara's eyes looked as wide as they did when she found the bomb on the rig.

"No, it ran out of fuel and crashed. I don't have many details yet, but I always like to see the crash site itself before we listen to the flight recorder and start the laboratory analyses. Then we're going to Seattle."

"Why?"

"That's where Coleman's company is based. There might be something at his office that can shed light on everything that's happened. We'll also swing by Gordian headquarters. I've got to talk to my boss and let him know what's going on. We also have a computer data recovery guru who's the best I've ever met. He should be able to help us with our research."

"You seem pretty gung ho about this now."

"A near-death experience will do that for you."

"Now that I survived the attempt to blow up the oil platform, do you think they'll stop trying to kill me?" Dilara's voice sounded more frustrated than anything, maybe because she and Locke still had no idea who "they" were.

Locke shook his head. "Sorry, but they seem like the persistent types. That's why you're staying with me from now on."

"You don't think I can take care of myself?"

"Oh, I have no doubt you can. But if we're going to solve this thing, we need to stick together. Remember, they want to kill me now, too. Maybe even Grant, but they better not even think of going after him."

"Why?"

"They'd be on the wrong end of a whupping if they tangled with Grant. He's the real deal. He's a black belt in Krav Maga and an expert in any weapon you can think of."

"Not to mention that he's huge. What's Krav Maga?"

"An Israeli form of martial arts. With his wrestling moves, it's a lethal combination."

"He was in Army Special Forces, I bet. What branch? Delta?"

"I could tell you, but he'd have to kill me."

"I remember seeing him on TV one time. He was intense. In person, he's got such a friendly face."

"Normally. But he's the scariest son of a bitch I've ever seen when he's mad."

She leaned over to him. "And what about you? You know Krav Maga?"

"Grant's taught me few moves. I can handle myself."

"I've noticed." She held his eyes a few more seconds then sat back. "Then I better stick with you."

"While we're trying to figure all this out, is there someone we should keep informed? That you're safe, I mean?"

She shook her head. "No one."

"What about Mr. Kenner?" Locke glanced at her ring finger. It was bare, no tan line.

She followed his gaze and splayed her fingers. "Right. You know my maiden name is Arvadi."

"Didn't seem relevant until now."

"I got divorced two years ago," she said. "Another archaeologist. You know how it goes when two people don't see each other much, traveling all over the world separately. Not enough time together. I decided to keep the name since I'd already established my credentials with it." She paused. "How about you? Any family?"

"A younger sister. We were Air Force brats. My father's still in active service, a general. Runs the Defense Threat Reduction Agency. I don't see him much now. He didn't care for my choice of career. Sounds like you and your dad were a lot closer than I am with mine."

"Married?" Dilara asked. Her tone was curious, but neutral.

He shook his head. "Widower." He didn't elaborate. The silence grew heavy.

"Well," Dilara said, taking the hint, "I think I will get some sleep."

"You can have my seat," a deep voice said from behind Locke. He turned to see Grant standing behind him. "It's already nice and warm. And Locke told me you wanted to know about some of The Burn's signature wrestling moves. When you wake up, I'll tell you about the Detonator. I used that one to win my first match."

"I can't wait to hear about it," she said with a laugh and moved to the back of the plane.

Grant took her seat.

"I like her." He lowered his voice. "So...it sounded like you two were hitting it off." He winked. Sometimes Grant went overboard pushing Locke to find someone after his wife died.

"Just making conversation," Locke said. He glanced back at Dilara. She was already curled up in the seat, her eyes closed, a blanket wrapped around her. It was the first time Locke had really seen her vulnerable, and Locke felt a overwhelming surge of protectiveness flow through him. He turned back to see that Grant had a silly grin on his face.

"You know about my girlfriend?"

"The woman you met two weeks ago in Seattle is now your girlfriend?"

"Tiffany," Grant said. "She's perfect."

"You've been on what, two dates?"

"I know it's early, but she has the all the qualities of the future Mrs. Westfield. Know how we met?"

Locke smiled. "At the strip club?"

"At the athletic club. She just works at a strip club."

"Bouncer?"

"Waitress," Grant said, feigning annoyance. "Putting herself through nursing school. She's strong but petite."

"I hope she's not too petite. You could crush her."

"You should see her on the bench press. Wow! I noticed her. She noticed me. For a few days, no talking, just looking. But we finally made a connection one day. Know how?"

"How?"

"Just making conversation."

Locke looked at Dilara again. She was fast asleep.

"There's nothing going on," he said.

"All right." Grant didn't sound convinced.

"You're going to be a pain in the ass about this, aren't you?" Locke said.

"Oh yeah," Grant replied.

Locke sighed. It was going to be a long flight.

After landing at McCarren International in Las Vegas, Locke, refreshed from four-hour's sleep, took the keys to a rental Jeep that was delivered to the Gordian jet and got into the driver's seat. A GPS navigational unit sat on the dashboard in front of Grant. In a few minutes, they were on Highway 93, which would take them all the way to the crash site.

"How far away are we?" Dilara asked from the back seat.

"Judy Hodge, the lead Gordian engineer on site, said it was about eighty miles," Grant replied. "Smack dab in the middle of nothing. Luckily, it's only about a mile off 93 on flat ground. If it had been in a canyon or on a mountain, the recovery would take ten times as long."

"How long
will
it take? To figure out what happened, I mean."