The Prophesy: Book 3 - The Hammer of Atlantis

 

Paschal and the others detoured to the Royal Kitchens to get some food and then popped into Paschal's ever more extensive domain. It had grown considerably over the past year, and now comprised an auto-update map room, a series of control rooms for arrays of Spiders, an extensive connection network with the Pyramids and the control decks of Thebes, access to a library, an extensive engineering bench and machine shop, and, last but not least, an extensive testing ground for anything possible, shielded by wards that were next to impossible to breach. Huge rows of seats sat, occupied by an army of staff, occupied at peering over designs, drawings, maps, and other curious things.

"Well, son, it seems you have created your own little kingdom here!"

"That's modest, dad. There are more specialized research units sprinkled around Thebes. Harp has his Magic test range; Sitar tests new types of weapons in another part; Enron is doing biodiversity restoration research; Thorsten is doing research in non-nuclear explosives; Typhoon is working on star navigation and other aspects of space travel. Did you notice that Samson is a bit absent lately? He's working on long-range pre-cognitive detection. Everyone's been busy."

"So I see. I feel like I've been having it easy!"

"Hey, you have been doing what you are best at: keeping us focussed on the time-table on the overall objective. Anyway, let's see what we have learned from the Spider we sent through the rift."

At first, the picture was classical: the Spider was seen in Paschal's laboratory, shiny, its eyes tracking Paschal. Suddenly, it was free-falling from five hundred feet over the ocean, clearly within the rim of the Vortex. The automatic response of the Spider was according to its survival program: it folded its legs tightly and rolled to present its back to the onrushing water. The wind's howl was heard loud and clear but it was quickly replaced by a thunderous splash, as the Spider's massive body collided with the water's surface. The camera quickly, but briefly showed the stars rotate rapidly above the Spider as the water rushing toward the centre of the vortex carried it. Then water covered the lenses, its greenish, algae-laced colour quickly tainting the star and moonlight. The descent began, unending, dark, and impressive. A Megalodon was spotted, carried violently down as it snapped at anything that came close, trying to find a way out of the deadly trap the suction of the Vortex had brought it in.

As the sea bottom neared, the flow of water became more erratic, and the Spider began to be tossed in all directions. The camera showed sickening changes of position, posture, and direction. Suddenly, the Spider found itself in a dark tunnel that seemed solid. At first, the observers thought the Spider had come to rest until Paschal brought their attention to the accelerometer: the Spider was rotating at an enormous speed, and gaining ever more as time went by.

"How fast can it rotate before blowing to shreds?" Sitar asked.

"How much shredding force can orichalque sustain?"

"According to Atlantis II records, no one ever managed to make it shred," replied Harp.

"Well, we'll learn from that experiment then. Hey! Did you see that?"

"I thought I was having vision problems! It's happening again!"

As the observers watched the recording, sparks of light were seen against the black background. As time passed, the number of sparks increased until it became first a shower then the entire background became progressively redder. Then the colours of the rainbow passed slowly, and before turning black again, the colour took a deep violet taint.

"What's the speed?" Harold asked.

"Half the speed of light rotation-wise!" came the instant report.

"Well, thanks Gaia none of us embarked in that! We aren't made of orichalque!" commented Sitar.

"It's reached c." commented Paschal, half an hour later.

"Time shift! It is moving back in time! Minus one day, minus two days, minus four days, minus eight days. The computer has established the function. For each second passing, it is jumping back in time by twice the previous jump!"

"How far will this go?"

"I have no idea, dad."

"Are you telling me the two other Spiders have been going back in time exponentially since they got captured by the Vortex?"

"What else do you want me to tell you? The conclusion seems straightforward to me."

"Estimate the distance travelled back in time since they have been captured!"

Paschal understood his dad's worries, and did the proper estimates. He came back to his dad with the number.

"Thirteen billion five hundred sixty two million three hundred thousand and nine hundred twelve years, give or take half a billion years."

"Why the error?"

"The Spiders were on patrol, dad. We lost contact but they were programmed to report once every day. A day is approximately five million seconds; divide that by two, and you have two million five hundred thousand seconds of margin."

"Are you aware that the Spiders may have met the Big Bang that created this universe?"

"Worse, dad... They may have caused it!"

"In fact, dad, I think it may well explain the three explosive expansions that saw to the birth of this universe in the first micro-second."

"But we only lost two!"

"Do you think the one we sent will be able to come back, dad? Be real! The first two hyper-expansions were close together, within the first pico-second, the last was considerably later, according to cosmological models, all things being relative. That later explosion may be due to the arrival of the Spider we are now tracking!"

"There is another issue dad! The Spider reports it is accruing energy at each jump, and already has more in its body then the entire output of the Galaxy. If I get this right, had we been wise enough to install a monitoring device on the first Spider, we would have been able to measure to total energy of this Universe, as the result of E = mc². Currently the Spider we are tracking has 3.2x10¹⁵⁵⁵⁰ Joules and climbing, or the total daily output of the galaxy. We are also nearing the end of the capacity to differentiate a signal, set at a wavelength 1.616252(81)x10^-35 meters. We may never actually know the answer to the ultimate question: what is the true mass of the Universe we are in?"

"Who cares?"

"Dad! Don't be daft! We played God! We created the Universe! We triggered the Big Bang! Everything fits! Even the fact that, according to this last report, as space contracts around the Spider, time slows down due to gravity! By the time the signal becomes incapable to send a bit, the Spider will have been compressed to the size of a gluon, and time will be 5.39124(27) x10e^-44 seconds after the Big Bang, We will never be able to get any closer. That it manages to function in these conditions are a testament to Paschal's workmanship!"

"Where do you get your numbers, son?"

"Harp has been studying the string theory of magic, and came to these numbers; I studied physical particle physics, and I came to the same numbers; Ian studied quantum physics and came to the same results as well; dad, even the Ancients came to these values. These were known as the Planck Constants, or God's Units!"

The shock was terrible for the King. All this because a damn crystal got lost where it shouldn't have! Talk about a random sequence of events creating specific conditions!

"What will happen when the time...?" Harold couldn't finish his question, too scared of the answer.

"When the alignment breaks and things return to normal?" asked Sitar, understand his dad's reticence.

"A backlash in time. I think it is precisely the closure of the passage back in time that triggers the initial Big Bang."

"Harp, that doesn't make sense. There was only one!" replied Harold, grapping for straws.

"You are refering to the fact that there was only one Big Bang, I gather. Dad, there was also only one such opening where Spiders were available to first, fall into that space-time trap, and second, that three such Spiders were available to fall in!"

"What Harp fails to mention is that raw, amorphous orichalque might have fallen in previous space-time holes and triggered other Big Bangs, of varying magnitudes and of which we are woefully unaware because their event horizon is not ours! There may be thousands of expanding universes and we will not know about them."

"Paschal, I wanted Dad to get over his guilt trip, not dunk him in it! But since you so kindly foiled my merciful plan, I'll add that each universe will be distinct, with its own constants. The only things linking these bubbles will be the Planck constants. And you overestimate the number of universes by a wide margin."

"How many universes are we talking about?"

"Eighty-five give or take a couple..."

"Harp! You are talking about universes!"

"So?"

"So, he says! So! Are you aware we may have created not only eighty-five universes, but also eighty-five places were intelligent life forms may have evolved? We are responsible for them!"

"Maybe it's so, dad, but do you know how to jump from one Universe to another? How to escape the Horizon of the Black hole we are in? Do you? I certainly have no idea how!"

"Cool it, Harp. We're the specialists here. Being aware of the need, we may well find a solution... in time. For now, the issue is recovering the Crystal once this last fissure closes."

"You seem to believe it has not fallen into it?"

"Dad, if it had, it wouldn't have been there to create the current mayhem!"

"You have a point Harp. Do you plan to cut the Crystal?"

"No, it may be our way out of this bubble, dad. If we are to travel from universe to universe, we need its power... intact. And remember, the core of Thebes is orichalque. The entire city is designed around orichalque. We will be accruing energy as we travel this universe... Maybe even collect the energy from the Spiders themselves, in the form of residual Big Bang Energy."

"You know, dad, I feel strange in a way. Let me tell you a story... Once there was void, and we were feeling lonely. We got bored and decided to bring things together to do something with it... We pulled ourselves together, and...there was this big flash, a huge bang, and there was Light. We are the Universes. Maybe it's only a question of scale."

"Anyway, talk about a gaffe... of astronomical scale! When Thorsten learns of this series of explosions, he will be jealous!"

"What explosion?" the dwarf king asked, as he walked into the laboratory.

"Oh, nothing... only the one that created this Universe. According to this data set, we caused it with the Spiders."

At first, Thorsten was taken by a hysterical laughter, but as he looked at the serious faces of the princes, kings, and Liege Lord, he realized they were being serious! As reality gelled in his mind, he became sheet white, and collapsed on the nearest bench.

"How?"

As Harp and Paschal described what the data meant, the enormity of the situation settled on Thorsten and he sank more and more on the bench, slumping dangerously and coming perilously close to falling off.

"And he said it was nothing... nothing... nothing..." repeated Thorsten as he tried to digest the information.

"And we created eighty-five universes by mistake," Harp told his love, wanting to get everything out in the open.

That was too much for poor Thorsten. He fainted and collapsed on the floor.

"Did we fry his brain?"

"Nah, he doesn't have any!"

"He is not blond!"

"Paschal, redheads are failed blondes."

"Cut it boys! Get him on the couch!" Closing his eyes the king hollered «Francesca! Get your butt in gear and port to Paschal's laboratory! Bring salts! Thorsten fainted!»

"And I thought I was bossy," stage-whispered Harp.

"Bossiness runs in the family!" replied Ian on the same tone.

Just then, Francesca popped into the laboratory and looked around for her patient.

"What happened to him? Did he get exposed to toxic gases?"

"Well, if you consider truth a toxic gas..." replied Harp.

"Truth?"

"Yes, that thing that escapes the moment there is a wicked leak⁴⁰⁴⁰ ("This is a reference to Wikileaks.") ..."

"Harp! Stop it!" said Harold.

"What kind of truth could make King Thorsten the Invincible faint?"

"Oh, we told him we caused the biggest bang possible and proved it."

"Paschal! Shut up! I need her conscious! You can pull the prank on her when Thorsten is out of the funk!"

Deciding she wouldn't get anywhere with this line of discussion, Francesca pulled out a bottle of foul-smelling salts and passed it repeatedly under Thorsten's nose. After a few passes, the king began coughing violently and his eyes watered, but he emerged.

"Are you hurting?"

"No, just shocked."

"Shocked? What could shock you to this extent, my lord?"

"Haven't they told you?"

"I think carps are more talkative then they," Francesca replied as she looked at Harp and Paschal scowling.

"There is no easy way to tell you this Francesca. Sit down... on the floor. It's no use risking a commotion!" said Harold, as she was getting up to sit on a sofa. Francesca looked at Harold wide-eyed. What could be so dramatic for even the king to ask her to stay down? She obeyed and sat back on the floor.

"Francesca, it came to our attention that the three lost Spiders are the cause of the Big Bang that created this universe. There is more," added Harold, raising his hand to stop Francesca from talking. "It appears that the Crystal has created eighty-five Universes over the course of seventeen thousand years."

"I don't get it. Are you telling me that there are eighty-five universe bubbles, all of the same size as this one?"

"As for size, I doubt it," replied Harp. "The hyper-expansion that accompanied the birth of this universe is directly linked to the Spiders; the other universes probably are considerably smaller, not having received the boost from them. It's not that they didn't expand, but the amount must be less. We will find out when we reach them."

"Reach them? Are you planning to skip universe?" asked a grey-looking Francesca.

"Well, this universe's numbers indicate it will reach rupture point. We may have no choice. Fortunately, it won't be tomorrow! We will have evolved by then."

"What will happen when we skip?"

"Who knows? All depends on what we will have become by then, and the nature of the Universe we skip to. All we know is that whatever the universe we decide to visit the Planck Constants would bind it. You need not worry about that for some time."

***

The next weeks were tense. Would the rift close? Would the presence of the three missing Spiders prevent its closure? Would the Spiders get ejected catastrophically, ripping to shreds the area? If the rift closed, how would the collapse of the well impact on the Ocean temperature or other aspects? Where would the kinetic energy go? Would the Ocean just fill the gap? No one had survived to witness the event before. No one actually worried much about the Crystal's survival, but extracting it from its anchor in the sea bottom was something everyone had worries about.

"It's like a tooth in the ocean bottom dad, a big, really big tooth. It's unbreakable, weights more or less twice the standard Crystal, and is at full charge. It's a magic accumulator, and we'll be right in the line of transmission if something goes wrong."

"Harp's responsible for designing a shield that will protect us should this thing discharge unexpectedly. Paschal is designing a system to raise the Crystal to the surface, Williams is designing a ship to bring it into port, Dunbar, a carrier on wheels so we can bring it to a properly prepared place, and Enron is working on a carrier to which willl be latched a number of Pegasuses. Ian will be the driver. I'll be less worried since I'll handle security. Our biggest problem for now is finding a proper port along the East coast. All good harbours are either iced up or radioactive. Timor and Typhoon are preparing a segment of the coast to act both as launch port for the ship and as dock when it comes back. It's a difficult task, given the presence of sand bars."

"How long before we start on that behemoth of a task?"

"We have to go down first to study the ocean bottom. The closing should be within twenty-four hours. What worries me is the activity below Bermuda. The Spiders there report an exponential increase in seismic activity. I wouldn't be surprised if the two events were related."

"Just for curiosity Harp, how much does that Crystal weight?"

"Mom, given the shape, the size, the density of orichalque, I say about two thousand nine hundred and sixty-four metric tons, or about three thousand two hundred and sixty-seven short tons. No, that won't do a nice set of ear rings!"

"One thing bugs me about all this analysis. We know this crystal is pure orichalque. Now, orichalque has the property of being ejected out of the gravitation well. That it is stuck at the sea bottom because the carrier ship sank, I get that, but what I don't get is why are we talking about weight? Shouldn't we be worried about it getting ejected when it gets released from the sea bottom?"

"Dad, I don't plan to release it raw; it will be weighed down by an equivalent mass of normal granitic rock. I told Williams and Dunbar to worry more about volume then weight. We will need a lot of space, but not that much. The beam of the ship will be fifty feet wide and three hundred feet long. This will improve stability. Its objective is more to carry the net that will direct the displacement of the Crystal on its final leg of the trip then to carry the Crystal itself. If we balance masses right, we should have a zero sum. The thing that is difficult is how cumbersome the combination of the Crystal and its granite counterweight will be."

"And where is that ship being built?"

"We control the coast. Williams has actualized the dry docks at Ginia Beach. They were severely damaged by the hurricane. Williams is already there, and about two hundred loggers are cutting down timber to build the ship. A hundred dragons are making sure our loggers are safe, burning everything that tries to get near them. Fishermen are building the net. Dunbar is preparing the road up to the mountain range. When they reach the mountain, they stop and we use magic to lift it and the granite mass over the mountain range. We have no choice. Yamato and Theresa are building the road on the other side of the range to Thebes. By the way dad, we will need every ounce of magic we can muster to get this part. I've sent the mobilization notice to all mages, every member of the royal family, all dragons, and all the Unicorns. You should be receiving yours shortly. So will you, mom."

"You sure don't take gloves Sitar."

"Mom, this is a military operation. Only that kind of organization can succeed."

"Banjo and Cello are leading two centuries of loggers. Viola is in charge of discipline within the ship building camp. Piano and Violin are working with the fishermen to coordinate the effort at building the net. Alaric is responsible for air cover east of the mountains, and a Troll, that goes by the name of Yeti, is in charge of ground protection," added Harp. "When are you planning to officially proclaim their adoption?"

"As soon as this is finished. We have been hitting road block after road block, but enough is enough."

"Did any of them dwell on their ordeal in the Pyramids?"

"No mom. We're waiting for them to open up. If it was like ours, I understand their reluctance to talk about it. I know it changed Alaric. He is a lot more serious. He walks this Earth with a purpose instead of living on a day-to-day basis. He was confident before, now he is rock-solid."

***

Lauds was barely ringing when the alarm rang in the palace. Typhoon, in charge of the shift until prime, immediately explained the alarm.

«The dragon decade monitoring the Vortex signals it's now closed. The problem is, it created a tsunami. According to the Decurion, the wave will be at least five hundred feet high and will hit Bermuda in an hour. I've ordered the evacuation of Ginia Beach! If we are to profit from the reconstruction of the docks at Ginia Beach, we need to set up a magic wall along the beach and inland to at least the altitude we expect the wave to rise.»

"That's good. You have the shift until prime or until the evacuation is finished, whichever comes the latest."

The royals ported to Ginia Beach in force. The problem jumped right at them: most of the area was barely above sea level. Wide swaths of the shore were saline swamps that would buffer the incoming wave but not halt its progress entirely.

«How much time do we have?» asked Typhoon to his surveillance team.

«Two hours at most your Highness! That wave travels at three hundred miles per hour.»

«Thorsten, Harp, begin building a magic wall along the islands we see out there. Samson, Enron! See that chain of tiny islands a bit further south? Build a magic wall along them. Ian, my lord, and Sitar, you do the same with the islands we see on the north. Timor, bring the wall toward the shore at the end of the segment assigned to Ian and Sitar. My lord Harold, please do the same with the southern end. Paschal, prolong the wall inland from the shore to at least ten miles inland on the northern end. Williams, Dunbar! You do the southern end. Bring it higher since it will be the first put to the test. Diamondcutter, sire, please help in consolidating the sand dunes with wave breakers. Princes Viola, Banjo and Cello, regroup everyone else in the central plaza of the village for emergency porting. Nestor, you and your mages should be ready to port everyone on my signal. Unicorns! Assist wherever the wall seems to weaken.»

Everyone obeyed the dragon prince without even blinking. It was his shift, and the rules were the rules. Diamondcutter used magic to build a twenty-mile long wave break that was a mile away from where the others were building the magic wall and then curved toward the land for another two miles and a half. Huge boulders the size of homes and weighing several hundred tons cascaded in the ocean creating a reef five hundred feet wide and following an arc twenty-five miles long. The Unicorns cut the rocks from the mountains west, mages ported them to the area where Diamondcutter wanted them and the king assembled them in a ragged, rugged pile of debris.

Meanwhile, Nestor and a dozen other mages ported the woodsmen and the carpenters that had been moved to Ginia Beach back to Thebes. Then, they too added their capacity to help Diamondcutter get his supplies.

«One hour to shore!» notified the dragon Decurion.

«We're seeing that, the water level is dropping slowly as the wave gets nearer. How many waves should we expect?»

«Seven. It's a train of waves with decreasing energy.»

«Current height?»

«One hundred feet and climbing your highness!»

«Guys, you heard the last report. Do you think what we did will hold?»

«It will be close, Typhoon, very close. The rock wall will absorb part of it; the sand islands another; the magic wall will get another part and finally the marshes will get the residue. How much energy will be left when it hits is pure speculation,» replied Paschal.

The construction of the rock wall continued until the last minute. The seawater drained beyond the horizon, revealing to those that flew over the seashore a sea bottom that had not seen the light of day since the last ice age. On the horizon, a black, foreboding wall of water thundered along, gaining height as it progressed, and reaching three hundred feet. The first to feel the impact of the tidal wave were the sandy islands south of the defences installed by the Atlanteans. Trees were torn to toothpicks, sand bars bared, and the islands vanished, washed inland by the raging water. The sand itself sandblasted everything that offered resistance, gouging rocks, concrete, and anything standing in the way of the advancing wave front.

As it reached the rocks, the wave lifted them off and threw them against the magic wall. The violence was such that many of the rocks were reduced to sand instantly, as the wall emitted sparks and rainbows of colours. Water flooded on each side of the defence, its fury amplified tenfold by the presence of the unyielding obstacle. Behind the beach, the water progressed at the speed of an express train and climbed to the assault of the mountain range, reaching twice the wave's height as the seawater tried to find an exit.

Then the drain began: the seawater retreated to its origins, bringing with it everything that was loose, including fire ants, a nest of orcs, and numerous cockroaches caught in hibernation. The water's retreat was hindered by the next wave, and the collision of the two waves added their energy in some areas, bringing the wave's height to an unheard of five hundred feet before it crashed on the shores. In all, seven waves gouged the landscape, reshaping it completely up to one hundred and twenty-five miles inland. The Tarmac's waters were pushed back several hundred miles deeper, and the hole where once stood Washton was flooded explosively by icy-cold Atlantic seawater.

The Atlanteans' magic wall held, barely. As the water retreated finally, the islands on which it had been anchored had vanished; the rock wall was all but gone. The water calmed down.

«Any more surprises?» Typhoon asked.

«Bermuda is blowing its top, your Highness. The dormant underwater volcano is no longer so dormant. This island is now unsafe,» reported the Decurion Dragon in charge of monitoring the island. «The Spiders made a run for it to escape the lava. I have three Dragons monitoring their progress undersea. They are moving at a good clip on a northwesterly trajectory.»

«This is in accordance with their program. They are returning to Thebes,» Paschal informed them.

«Keep monitoring Bermuda from above. Signal any other change, especially additional tidal waves.»

«At your command, your Highness.»

The royals began a quick survey of the seashore. It became apparent that everything within a hundred and twenty-five miles had been washed out to sea, leaving a barren granitic continental base. Where river valleys had given the ocean easy access, the seawater had climbed even further, reaching inland well beyond the three hundred mile mark. The surface of the moon had nothing to envy to this disaster. The only anomaly was the area protected by the Atlantean wall, a green tongue that extended from the mountains to the sea, in stark contrast to the red, black and rusty continental crust.

«Prince Ian, you have shift command.»

«Acknowledged, Typhoon. Rest. Harp, head out to the Crystal with Paschal and assess the situation under the sea. The others resume previous activity. Williams, report on the construction of the ship. Dunbar, report on the construction of the road.»

Reports began flowing in telepathically to Ian, which consolidated everything and made a list of things done, to do, and in progress. Williams presented the blueprint for the ship; Dunbar exposed his road plan, and the need to lift the Crystal across at least three major rivers before they reached the mountains.

«I see no objection on lifting the Crystal across the Tarmac, Dunbar. In fact, it is a good test at our ability to do so in a stable manner. It wouldn't do to be bringing it across to the mountains only to realize we are unable to keep it stable during transport. We will have a lot of trouble with all the crosswinds in the mountains.»

«Will we take a break during transport or will it be continuous?»

«Harp?»

«As much as I would like this to be a step-by-step thing, I think we will have to do it non-stop. Yes, when we cut the sea bottom, we will try to make the base as flat as possible, but there is no guarantee that this is possible, and that we will find areas flat enough to let the Crystal rest safely.»

«You have your answer Dunbar. Plan the road so it slopes up by three percent on a continuous basis from the sea to as close as possible to the mountain. Also, minimize turns, but if a gentle turn helps you get closer to the mountain range, go for it. Do you need any help?»

«Thank you, I have all the help I need.»

«Harp! Have you reached the Crystal yet?»

«No, we are still three hundred miles off. Then it's the dive. The sea is covered with garbage. Predators are having a feast, but some of the biggest ones did not make it. I saw a Megalodon, belly open, getting devoured by seabirds. I'm not going to be able to eat fish for a few months!»

***

«Ian, we reached the Vortex point. The sea is calm, but still rotating at a good clip. It's keeping the area clear. We will enter directly in the centre.»

A few minutes later, Harp reported anew.

«We reached three hundred feet, and are going down at one hundred feet per minute. We expect to reach the sea bottom in two hours and forty-nine minutes.»

Harp and Paschal took turn to report on the progress of the descent into the abyss. Things went relatively smoothly until they reached the seabed.

«We have an issue, Ian. We can't see shit. The average temperature is 35 °F and is isothermic, so there is no way to differentiate anything using dragon sight. We're climbing back up. We'll need a light source. Send someone to get a Spider from the laboratory.»

«Do you have a preference?»

«Take five of the DSDCS⁴¹⁴¹ ("DCDCS: Deep Sea Dive Control Spider.") series. Check for the high-power lighting. Port them to Ginia, we will pick them there.»

«Five dragons left for the laboratory. They should be back in time for your pickup.»

«I wonder when things will go as planned for once?»

«Never! There is a law of probability: if something can go wrong, it will!»

«Aren't you the optimist today... Anyway we are swimming up, our climb rate is three hundred feet per minute. I want to feel the warmth of a lava bath. I'm tired of cold, icy water. We'll do a side-trip to take a bath in Bermuda's lava.»

«Leave us some!»

***

Eight hours later, Harp, Paschal, and three others were taking a nap inside their running spider, which was on autopilot to reach the Crystal. It would take the Spiders eighteen hours to reach the objective, given the numerous detours required, which doubled the distance. The passengers slept fitfully, as the Spiders jumped, climbed, and changed directions unexpectedly. Luckily, Paschal had designed a net bed that could be zipped closed and held its passenger safely in a cocoon. Everyone really needed the rest anyway and slept right through the trip. Two hours before arrival, the Spiders began beeping to bring their respective passenger back to the world of the living. By then the Spiders were sixteen thousand feet below sea level. The cockpit was lit with fluorescent green light, and the Spiders, walking one behind the other, were crawling along a canyon near the edge of the continental shelf.

«Damn, I'm hungry!»

«I materialized a sandwich a few minutes ago, but I almost strangled myself with it. Just as I was taking a bite, the Spider did a jump and I shoved the entire sandwich in my mouth unexpectedly. I've decided to wait out until we reach our destination to eat, Paschal. I tried a cup of water, and it jumped out of the cup. We are two hours away. Let's just wait.»

Time passed slowly for the living cargo in the Spiders. They felt the strap bite in them repeatedly as the Spider climbed, jumped, or otherwise changed trajectory.

«How long? I need to pee badly!» said one of the accompanying legionnaires.

«It is thirty minutes to full stop. Hold on.»

The last thirty minutes were the longest of their lives. Everyone had bodily functions pressing at the door, and once the Spiders halted their progress, a mile off the Crystal, everyone released their safety harness and rushed to the dry chemical restroom with a sigh of relief.

«Let's eat, take an hour's break, then we go on manual to explore the area,» said Harp.

***

The Spiders' lights flooded the sea bottom, revealing a circular trench with a giant one hundred and twenty-foot high diamond-tipped shaped protuberance: the Crystal! About half height, a cylinder of polished rock descended vertically to the seabed. The trench itself looked like something had been rotating at high speed, polishing the rock and creating a lip of compacted debris at its top. No trace of the Atlantean ship that had carried the Crystal was visible.

«Paschal, estimate the mass of rock encasing the bottom of the Crystal!"

«That cylinder is sixty feet high, and from the nature of the rock, is basaltic in nature. The total volume of the cylinder is π * r² * h. I estimate r at 30 feet, the height at sixty feet, which gives a volume for the cylinder of 84820.5 cubic feet. I must subtract the volume of the Crystal's root, made of orichalque. A pyramid's volume is base area * height / 3. In this case, the base is the square inscribed in the thirty-foot circle. The base is an area of 2*r2, or 1800 square feet, for a pyramidal volume of 36000 cubic feet of orichalque. That volume is to be subtracted from the cylinder, and gives a net volume of 48819.5 cubic feet of basalt. The average density of basalt is one hundred and ninety-four pounds per cubic feet, so we have 9470983 pounds, or 4735.5 short tons. Now remember, we estimated the Crystal's negative gravity at 3267 short tons. We have to trim the cylinder and remove 1468.5 short tons of basalt. We need to remove 2936000 pounds of rock from that column. For safety reasons I would remove it from the top, clearing the lower segment of the crystal. Once this is done, we can cut the base of the cylinder and lift it safely out of here.»

«What geometry is best?»

«I suggest a cone that follows the crystal's surface offset by six inches. I do not want to damage the natural growth crystal in any way. We will have to progress further down the cylinder, but since we have to remove it anyway once it reaches Thebes to use the Crystal's full potential, we might as well start right away. We need to weight each bit of rock we remove to prevent removing too much. I would prefer we removed less then too much.»

«I agree. Let's limit the removal at 1468 short tons, leaving an excess of .5 short tons as weight-down. How is the ship-building progressing?»

«The hull's keel and rib beams are set. We are planking and caulking. Harold has been preparing copper plates to be nailed on the hull below the watermark. I think he is afraid of Megalodons, and I agree. I just hope the copper will be thick enough at six inches! These beasts have jaws! The deck should be ready to be put in place tomorrow. The foredeck and aft deck will be built next. Everything should be ready for the stopping-up in three days, then we put in the derrick, pulleys, the net and we are ready to set it to the water, stern first. Then we add the row seats and cabins. The hood will be closed until we take the net out. I'm not too at ease with tall ship designs and we have a better control with a bireme. We expect to need four hundred oarsmen and to be able to hold ten knots in calm water.»

«That means at best, you would reach the theatre of operation fifty-one hours after departure, if we discount sea currents. That's not too bad. If I sum things up, you will be here in five days at the earliest. Paschal and I will begin the trimming process, at eight hours a day, we should finish trimming the excess basalt a few hours after your arrival. Keep us informed of the progress.»

«Williams, you should find the drawings for the derrick and cable boom on my desk in Thebes,» intercepted Paschal. «It carries the label Derrick & Boom Version E. Also, you will find the drawing for the capstan to hold the cable and the sock for the net. That one is Capstan drawing F. On the bottom left of that drawing is the sock's design to be made by the seamstresses. I will be joining you on deck when it gets lowered overboard. Do not forget to put some deadweight in the net, or it will float rather then sink!»

«The fishermen reminded me of the issue, Paschal.»

***

Things progressed on schedule. Spiders slowly clipped and chipped the basalt, storing the pieces in nets while keeping an eye on the total weight. Four Spiders worked while the other was used to monitor the overall cut. At first, the cuts were done in small increments, until the distance between the cylinder's face and the Crystal was greater then a foot and a half. After that, the Spiders cut the rock in cubes of one cubic feet. In all, 15194 cubic feet of rock were removed or around three thousand cubic feet of basalt a day.

Meanwhile, the ship had been floated: it slid off a wooden ramp made slippery by a lube based on... bananas! The ship backed in the bay, and floated easily. The installation of the top deck, the rows, the row seats, and the hood and hatches was done overnight. The last thing to be added was the rudder. Meanwhile, Harold and Samson built a dock to ease the loading of the ship. The first use of the derrick was to pull in the sock containing the huge net and lower it below deck in the hood. Then the derrick pulled in the tip of the cable to the capstan, which then rolled it in from the shore onto its huge drum. Once everything was on board, the derrick's boom was aligned with the ship's keel. The oarsmen boarded the ship, and took their position. Two small rowboats led the ship out of port slowly, probing the depth to make sure there was enough water under the keel for the ship to stay afloat. It took them six hours to reach open seas, and then the rowboats were hoisted on board and tied, upside down, to the deck. Samson took charge of the captaincy once they had left port.

«We are in the open seas Harp. The water is choppy so we will be late.»

«By how much?»

«Our current speed is eight knots. Add nineteen hours to our trip, if the weather maintains itself.»

«And what is the weather forecast?»

«For now, it's fair, but three days from now, it may be radically different! We will rotate crew every eight hours and navigate by night. Williams is on board as chip⁴²⁴² ("Chip: Carpenter."), Iridia and a centurie of Fairies as defence against assault, and we have four hundred oarsmen. Typhoon will transport them back to Ginia Beach after their shift. Ian supplies the food. Harold and Typhoon are navigation officers for each shift. I handle day shift. We'll keep you informed of progress and of any unexpected events. A centurie of Dragons and long range Pegasuses are keeping an eye on the weather south and west of us. So far, the only weather system of concern is brewing off Africa and is several days away.»

***

Holding speed and heading proved more difficult then expected. First, the power of the Gulf Stream took them by surprise and forced them to crawl across it at a steep angle, heading almost directly prow-first in the strong current, thus slowing both their south and east progress. The current also proved to be noticeably choppier then the water outside of its grip, and the weather soured. Squeals of wind buffeted the ship, first from one side, then from the other. Two men held the helm and the cables cried their stress to the attuned ears of the Elves and the Atlanteans. The ship's prow would rise out of the water and slam hard as it entered another wave; the stern would then stick out of the water, removing any steering capacity before getting kicked by the wave as the ship sank itself back in the sea. Quite a few oarsmen were seasick, and required the intervention of Francesca to remain functional. Infusions of ginger became very popular, and Francesca spent hours brewing the mixture for the crew... and herself!

The night shift found itself in even worse condition. The stars vanished completely as clouds moved in from the west. Dunbar's magnetic compass, repaired by the care of an elf craftsman, came in handy. The magnetic heading was set to one hundred and forty degrees to compensate for the magnetic pole's drift. Morning brought a thick fog bank, rendering any positional measurement impossible at noon. The only solution left to Samson was to maintain the heading, hoping that sea currents had not pushed him off course by too much.

The setting sun showed a red line of clouds well above the horizon. The dragons reported a depression forming south of their current position, headed their way, but nothing comparable to a hurricane. As the evening progressed, Harold saw lightning flashes on the horizon, and became worried. Two hours before matins, the ship was hit with some gusts of wind and slowed down even more.

"Double the men on the oars! Tighten ropes! Lock down hatches! Three men in the hood to tighten the cargo! Inspect joints below waterline!"

Immediately, the night crew assembled and was ported from Ginia Beach by Typhoon and Samson, which had climbed out of the officers' cabin at the first sign of trouble, noticing the change of behaviour from the ship.

"Double the cables to the rudders! All men on deck! Tie yourselves up!"

"Harold, I'm porting additional crewmen from the mainland. We are taking water and the ship is low on the water! We need to scoop the water out."

"I agree; it's taking more time to climb out of the waves as we progress. Typhoon, send in an additional fifty men at each end with buckets."

«I'm porting five sump pumps Harold! We just finished assembling them in Thebes,» Sitar notified his dad. «Their output is five hundred gallons per minute. You will also get copper hoses to fasten to them, and fifty-foot long tubes. It should take Williams ten minutes per pump to set up.»

«OK, I think the bucket brigades can keep us afloat until these pumps are assembled.»

Below, the princes slept peacefully, oblivious to the drama happening above them. The wind's strength increased progressively, creating waves of several feet in height. Rowing became hazardous, as oars, struck violently by waves, rammed the oarsmen, or broke when colliding with the gunwales. Water entered by the ports, flooding the oarsmen before dripping inside. Finally, the last sump pump was assembled, and entered in action, bringing the total output at two thousand five hundred gallons per minute, barely enough to compensate what the sea was throwing inside.

«Sitar, we need additional sump pumps!»

«I'm finishing the tubing for the next one. It should be on ship in three minutes! I've mobilized the entire school of magic to speed creating the tubes. They are just now porting here. I'll focus on making the sump pumps from now on. Do you need additional men?»

«I'll use the stern bucket gang to man it. They are contributing very little. I have four more bucket gangs. You can send me at least four more of these sump pumps before I need additional crew. I also need thirty replacement oarsmen; the others were ported to Thebes with injuries. And add twelve oars, all for the second deck! Shit! Add another oar and four oarsmen.»

The night went on, as the ship fought the ocean to stay afloat. By dawn, the wind calmed down, and the sea becalmed. A thick fog bank hid anything from view, to the point that Samson couldn't even see the prow from the aft castle.

«This trip is turning to a nightmare! Inspect the beams! Caulk up any open seams! I want a dragon above that pea soup to tell me if he sees any land! Maintain the sump pump working until the bilges are dry! Then inspect the seams and seal them up! Report any storm damage. Two monkeys to inspect the derrick and the boom! Tie yourself up before climbing! Williams, replace the broken oars. Typhoon, get below deck and take a rest. Harold, you will hot bunk with Typhoon, at four hours interval. Before going below deck, I want a fresh crew. Port everyone to Ginia Beach and get replacements. Harold, I will replace you in four hours in the bunk. Typhoon, by matins, if we do not have any more bad surprises, our standard eight hour shift will resume.»

High above the fog bank, the dragon that had left the ship's deck reported to Samson.

«I see land about fifty miles west. I do not think this is where we should be?»

«No, apparently, the storm pushed us west considerably. Can you climb high enough and see Bermuda?»

A few minutes later the damning report came to Samson.

«Bermuda is due west of us, and from the little bit I've seen of the ship through a hole in the clouds, we are headed way south of the island. I suggest we try to navigate closer to ninety degrees to cut the triangle short. We lost ground, we are further west then we were when we left Ginia Beach. I estimate, from this altitude we are six hundred and twenty-five miles from our target.»

«Thank you, this is precious information. Join us on deck. We will maintain our heading until you join us.

A few minutes later the red dragon flew above ship, changed to a sea gull, and landed on deck to take bipedal form.

«Heading ninety degrees magnetic! Double beat. Rotate crew every two hours. We have lost enough time as it is!» thundered Samson.

The ship picked up speed and slowly climbed to twenty-two knots.

«Where are you guys?»

«Don't push it Harp!»

«What did I do?»

«Nothing, that's what! We were caught in a storm and pushed back west further then Ginia Beach. Expect us in twenty-five hours! We will be two days late, but I can't help it!»

«Oh, ok. We are finishing the removal of the basalt. We will wait for the net to cut off the base of the cylinder. I want it in place before we undertake that task. We'll take the time to clear debris and ready the area for the net. Given there are a few Megalodons roaming, I'll wait until the last minute to release the balloon and the guide cable.»

***

Twenty-four hours later, Harp released a rather modest red and yellow balloon that began a quick ascent to the surface, pulling along a thin, lightweight, but extremely resistant cable. The arrival of the ship on site marked the next stage in the process.

«Where is the marker?»

«It is ascending, and is currently at half mark, eight thousand and five hundred feet still to go. It should be on the surface in an hour,» replied Paschal from down below.

«We are pulling the net out of the sock, using the boom's cable to lift it off the deck, and getting it to the stern. As soon as we know exactly where the balloon is we'll row the stern in place.»

«A decade of Dragons to the sea! A megalodon has been spotted by the vigils! Orders are to push it away, no blood! We do not need a feeding frenzy!» ordered Typhoon.

Immediately, ten green Dragon boys dived overboard, converted to dragon form upon hitting the water and headed out on intercept course for the approaching predator.

The net, out of the sock, lay folded neatly on the deck, its sinkers held in place by stoppers. Suddenly the balloon surfaced and floated gently in the soft swell.

«Hard starboard! Backstroke! One on ten!» ordered Samson.

The ship began turning toward the balloon and progressed backward at a stately pace. As it was ten yards from the balloon came the counter-order:

«Half port! Forward stroke! One on ten!»

The ship stopped rotating and going backward at the third stroke.

«Raise oars! Drop floating anchors! Port side! Compensate wind on command!»

Harold took over deck command immediately.

«Drop stern planks and let slide!»

«Boom! Lift sinkers! Drag! Slow does it! Unwind cable! Slow does it! Drop on slide! Slow! Brakes on winch! Check sinkers' alignment!»

«Alignment within tolerance!»

«Divers in position! Screw guide rings around the cable!»

«Rings in place!»

«Check all clear!»

«Divers all clear!»

«Release brakes on winch! Slow it! Good!»

«Sinkers wet! Sinkers under!» reported a deck hand.

«Brakes on! Check net alignment! Check sinker line! What's the tension?»

«Alignment within tolerance!»

«Sinker line unwinding properly! Tension at eighty percent of peak value! Five yards to unwind before the net comes!»

«Everyone off deck! Release brakes! Check tension when the cable starts pulling on the net!»

«Two yards! One yard! Traction on net! Peak value reached! The net is sliding on deck! The net is engaging in the gunwale guide! It's now beginning to slide down the plank.»

«Brakes on! Divers! Screw lower net guides around the cable!»

«Guides screwed! Area cleared!»

«Release brakes!»

«The net is wet! The net is at half mark. The net is below surface!»

«Brakes on! Divers! Install top net guides!»

«Top net guides fastened! All clear!»

«Release brakes! Boom drum! Check load!»

«Tension within expected tolerance! Unwinding normal!»

«Recover divers! Report on Megalodon activity!»

«It's three miles off; more coming!» reported Typhoon. «Three decades to the sea!»