Page 35 of Cradle


  On the other side of the natural tunnel were the receiving plates for the beams as well as the alarm electronics. Troy swam over carefully, pulled out his screwdriver, and dismantled the housing. The system was very simple. Failure of either plate to receive a beam would trigger the opening of a relay. When both relays were open, current could flow to the alarm. Thus an object had to be large enough to break both beams simultaneously to set off an alarm. Troy smiled to himself as he validated the operating principle by passing his hand in front of one of the beams. Then he jerryrigged one of the relays permanently closed. Satisfied with his work, he swam back and forth in the tunnel, breaking both beams at the same time, assuring himself that he had rendered the alarm system ineffective.

  He swam back out to meet Nick and gave him the thumbs-up sign. The two men passed through the fifty yards of natural tunnel into the subterranean cave. Where the narrow passageway widened, Troy again gestured to Nick to remain behind while he, Troy, went into the cave to check for booby-traps. Nick let his feet fall to the bottom of the tunnel and switched on his own small flashlight. He was in a perfect place for an ambush. The tunnel was so small here that there was virtually no maneuvering room He wondered what an underwater sentry would look like. What a place to die, he thought suddenly. Fear swept over him as he turned off his flashlight and looked down at his illuminated diver’s watch. He watched the glowing second hand sweeping around the face. He tried to calm himself. It had been three minutes since Troy had left. Why is he taking so long? he asked himself. He must have found something. Another minute passed. Then another. Nick was having a hard time quelling the onset of panic. What do I do if he doesn’t return?

  Just as Nick was about to swim into the cave on his own, he caught sight of Troy’s searchlight coming toward him Troy waved and Nick followed. Within thirty seconds they were in the shallow part of the cave, where the water was only about four feet deep. The two men stood up with their flippers lodged against the rocks to protect themselves from falling in the intermittent tidal surges.

  Nick pulled his regulator out of his mouth and flipped his mask back on his head. Before he could speak, Troy put a finger against Nick’s lips. “Speak very softly,” Troy’s whisper was barely audible. “The place could be alarmed for sound as well.”

  There was no light in the cave except Troy’s searchlight. However, over their heads, in the highest corners of the rock ceiling, Troy pointed out two separate banks of fluorescent lighting. The cave itself was an irregular oval, about thirty yards in its longest dimension and maybe fifteen yards across at its widest point. The ceiling was only about three feet above the water near the entrance to the tunnel out to the ocean, but it was twenty feet high in the corner where they were standing in the shallow water.

  “Well, Professor,” Troy continued whispering, “I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that there is no treasure here in this cave. The good news is that there are two other tunnels, both manmade, that lead away from this place and go under Captain Homer’s property.” He paused for a moment and watched his partner. “Shall we go for it?”

  Nick looked at his watch. It was nine-twenty already. He nodded. “The bastard spent a lot of money down here. They must have stolen more than I figured.” Nick adjusted his diving equipment.

  “We’ll start with the tunnel on the left. As before, I’ll lead to look for trouble.” Troy cast his searchlight around on the ceiling. “This is a strange place. But beautiful. It looks like another planet, doesn’t it?”

  Nick pulled his mask back over his face and slipped the regulator in his mouth. He flopped backward into the sea water. Troy followed and, once under the surface, showed Nick the way to the first manmade tunnel. This tunnel was on the other side of the cave, about twelve feet below the water at its lowest point. It was made of normal circular sewer pipe. The diameter of the pipe was about five feet, making the tunnel approximately the same size as the natural passageway between the ocean and the cave. Troy entered the tunnel gingerly. He swam back and forth from side to side, examining one wall for a few yards and then going across to the other. He almost missed the long, slender alarm box. It was embedded in the ceiling at a junction between two sections of sewer pipe and Troy just happened to look up before he triggered the alarm.

  This system worked on a different principle. A camera or other optical device in the box on the ceiling took repeated images of a square foot of the tunnel bottom that was backlit by an illuminated square cleverly concealed below the normal concrete floor. Apparently some kind of data comparison algorithm in the alarm processor contained logic by which the consecutive pictures could be assessed, in terms of threat, and an alarm triggered if necessary. It was the most complicated device of its kind that Troy had ever seen and he quickly recognized the similarities between this system and the ocean telescope that had been onboard the Florida Queen. That means MOI designed and developed it, he thought to himself. So I’d best be careful. I bet the algorithm is set so that disturbances to the camera trigger the alarm as well.

  Nick had swum over to the side of the tunnel, out of the way, and was watching Troy try to open up the alarm box without jiggling the optical instrument. To accommodate the almost two-inch width of the box, there was a gap of that size everywhere around the circle connecting the two sequential sections of pipe. Throughout the rest of the tunnel, all adjoining sections were cemented together. Here the passageway was discontinuous.

  Curious, thought Nick. He idly shone his small flashlight into the blackness in the gap beside him, expecting to see nothing but a wall of rock. What in the world is that? he wondered, as his light fell upon some metal object that looked like a large grating. The grating was resting upon an old piece of railroad track. Nick looked more carefully. He could make out a gear box and some pulleys, but he had no idea how all these mechanical devices fit together.

  Meanwhile Troy had managed to remove the housing from the alarm box without disturbing the camera and was busy trying to understand the inner workings of the system. Whew, he thought. This is much too complicated to figure out in five minutes. If I can just isolate the alarm, that should be enough. It was tough work under the water. But Troy was clever and the electronics were packaged in a logical fashion. He was able to find the alarm and disable it. Afterward Troy lingered for several seconds trying to determine the purpose of the other circuits connected to the alarm subassembly.

  Nick had intended to show Troy what he had found in the gap; however, as he watched his friend struggling with the complex circuitry of the alarm box, he became again worried about the passage of time. It was now almost a quarter to ten. He caught Troy’s eye and pointed at his watch. Troy reluctantly abandoned his investigation of the alarm and proceeded down the tunnel.

  Thirty yards farther the tunnel passed what looked like a door to a submarine on their left. Both Troy and Nick tried pulling on the handle of the large and very heavy round door but nothing happened. With gestures Troy told Nick to continue trying to open the door while he swam on down the tunnel.

  The gold bars and other objects that remained from the Santa Rosa treasure were sitting in the tunnel another thirty yards beyond the round door. The passageway itself came to an abrupt halt against a rock wall. In front of the wall was an array of gold and silver objects, stacked to an average depth of a foot or so across the width of the tunnel. The treasure was not hidden in any way, it was simply scattered in random piles on the concrete floor at the end of the tunnel. Troy was ecstatic. There’s plenty here, he thought. Enough for the aliens. Enough for Nick. Maybe even some left over for Carol and me.

  He swam back to find Nick. Nick was absolutely exultant when he saw the unmistakable smile on Troy’s face. He raced around his friend to the end of the tunnel When Nick first reached the treasure, he spent a minute or two swimming around, picking up each object that was different and dropping it back into the piles on the floor.

  Holy shit, Nick said gleefully to himself as he and Troy started p
utting gold bars into the buoyancy bags. I was right for once. There must be over a hundred pounds in bars alone. They had agreed before the dive just to bring out the bars, provided there were enough. The bars were the only objects they could be certain were pure gold. Even if we take fifty-eight to Troy’s friends, that might leave fifty or so for us. He did a quick mental calculation. That could be over three hundred thousand dollars apiece. Whoopee.

  Joy and excitement surged through Nick. He was having difficulty containing himself. He wanted to sing, to dance, to jump with joy. He had been right after all. The bastards had stolen most of the treasure and now he was stealing it back. There’s no happiness quite like the redressing of an old and painful grievance. And to do it with panache . . . Nick was already celebrating in his heart. This was his day.

  Filling the bags took no time at all. Nick and Troy both felt as if they had infinite energy. When they had finished picking up the gold bars, Troy gestured down the tunnel. Nick looked down at the other treasure objects remaining on the floor. We should take it all, he thought. We should leave Homer and Greta nothing. Nothing at all. But he had to be practical. Each of their bags was virtually full and they would be heavy enough as they were.

  Nick swam off in the direction of the ocean, his buoyancy bag full of gold trailing behind him. Troy followed. As they passed the bulky door on the right, Troy found himself thinking again about the circuitry leading to the alarm in the box just ahead, between the two sections of pipe. What could those other connections be for? Suddenly he remembered seeing a diagram in an electronics magazine about advanced timers that could reinitialize systems and swap out failed parts. By now the component that Troy had disabled might have been declared a failure by the smart processor in the alarm box, in which case it would have either been replaced by a redundant part or the system would be ignoring its output. In either situation, Troy thought, that means the system could be active again.

  It was too late. Nick swam into the field of view of the optical device and lights came on throughout the tunnel. A metal gate started closing behind Nick and his bag of gold. It was only with a burst of speed that Troy propelled himself through before the gate shut completely. But his buoyancy bag full of gold bars was left behind, on the other side of the gate.

  Nick stared at Troy’s lost bag as it floated to the floor. He reached through the bars, grabbed the bag, and tried to pull it through. It was useless. He shook the gate. The metal was extremely sturdy. Angry and frustrated, he punched the gate with his fists. As Nick caught his breath in between punches, he became aware of a strange droning sound, like a motor, somewhere in the distance behind him. He turned around to find Troy. He could not see him anywhere.

  Troy had been exhausted by his swimming sprint through the closing gate. His energy spent, he had let himself fall to the floor of the pool in the deepest part of the cave, halfway between the two manmade tunnels. He took several deep breaths through his mouthpiece and checked his air supply. He had about ten minutes remaining. He watched for a moment as Nick, almost out of sight to his right, tried fruitlessly to pull Troy’s bag through the gate. Shit, Troy thought, disappointed that he had lost the gold, if only I had been thinking. I should have known . . . He heard an unusual sound off to his left. Curious, Troy swam over to the entrance of the other tunnel and right into the path of the robot sentry.

  Even though the original distance between them was over fifty feet, the guidance mechanism of the sentry fixed on Troy as soon as he appeared. Startled and fascinated, at first Troy did not try to avoid the onrush of the bullet-shaped submarine. The sentry was three feet long and a foot wide in its midsection. When it was about eight feet away, the sentry slowly loaded and fired a small but powerful spear, the size of a table knife, that Troy just managed to avoid as it hurtled past. The spear crashed into the wall beside him.

  Adrenaline surged into Troy’s system and he swam out into the middle of the pool. The sentry did not follow him immediately. Instead it moved over in front of the natural passageway to the ocean, thereby cutting off the escape route, and then turned around to make a systematic search of the pool . Damnit, Troy was thinking, why didn’t I leave while I had the chance? He wondered if Nick was still over by the gate.

  The sentry had now found Nick in its field of vision. He was swimming slowly toward the exit with his buoyancy bag. He was unaware that he and Troy were not alone in the pool. By the time Nick saw the sentry, he was fifteen feet away and within easy range of its underwater gun. Troy watched the sentry load a spear. Oh no, he cried out to himself. Watch out, Nick. There was nothing he could do.

  It happened so fast that neither Nick nor Troy knew exactly what occurred. Troy would later explain that he felt a sudden warm tingle on his wrist and then something, a light beam or a laser burst or a stream of plasma perhaps, fired out of his bracelet and zapped the robot sentry into silence and motionlessness. Nick would say that the sentry, just when it was going to fire at him, was first distracted by Troy and then recoiled as if from an impact. Whatever happened, the sentry stopped all activity. Immediately thereafter the two men swam together over to the shallow part of the cave. They were temporarily safe.

  Carol could not believe how plump and succulent the oysters were. Ellen was sitting at the other end of the table opposite her, and was beaming with pride. “Would you like some more, dear?” she smiled, lifting the huge pot containing the oyster stew. I’m now going to eat a second portion, Carol thought. In addition to the catfish with Nick. Greta would be disgusted. She smiled to herself and nodded at Ellen. There was at least one thing she had learned this evening. Ellen was certainly a fantastic cook.

  And a very sad person too, Carol thought as she spooned herself some more spicy stew rich with the fabled Appalachicola oysters. Homer had personally answered all the questions during the twenty-minute interview before dinner. Whenever a question had been controversial or delicate, such as when Carol had asked about the allegations that part of the treasure haul had been secretly stolen and hidden by the three of them, he had looked only at Greta before he made a response. No wonder Ellen eats all the time. She’s the odd man out. Or is it woman?

  “This stew is fabulous,” Carol remarked to Ellen. “Would you mind giving me the recipe?”

  Ellen was delighted. “Certainly, dear,” she said, “it would be my pleasure.” Carol remembered Dale’s reference to Ellen’s behavior at the MOI awards dinner and wondered if there was, indeed, any sexual component to the warmth Ellen was displaying. I don’t see it, Carol decided. This is just a lonely and profoundly disturbed woman. I don’t feel one iota of sexual tension.

  “You’ve been asking the questions all evening, Miss Dawson,” Homer was saying. “Now why don’t we ask you a few?” He had been surprisingly pleasant and subdued since the bizarre preprandial shark feeding. They must be normal sometimes, Carol thought. Otherwise they couldn’t survive. But who knows when Mr. Hyde will show up again.

  “Ya,” Greta said. It was the first time she had spoken directly to Carol during the meal. “Homer told me you were with Dr. Dale. You are lovers, no?”

  You don’t beat around the bush, do you Greta. Carol partially evaded the question. “Dale Michaels and I are very good friends. We spend quite a lot of time together, both socially and professionally.”

  “He is a smart man,” Greta said. Those clear eyes stared at Carol and a smile played at the corner of Greta’s lips. What is she trying to tell me?

  The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a sharp alarm. Carol knew immediately that something had gone wrong. “What in the world is that?” Carol asked innocently as the strident alarm continued with its loud bursts.

  Homer and Greta were already up from the table. “Excuse us,” Homer said, “it’s our burglar alarm. Probably an error. We’ll go check it out.”

  They hurried out of the dining room, leaving Carol and Ellen alone, and headed down a nearby hallway. I must follow them and find out what’s going on, Carol thought,
her heart and mind racing together. She sneaked a peek at her watch. It was five minutes past ten o’clock. They should have finished by now. “I’m going to the rest room,” she said to Ellen. “Don’t bother,” she added, as Ellen started to explain the directions. “I’m sure I can find it myself.”

  Carol walked quickly into the hall and listened for sounds of Homer and Greta. Moving very quietly, she followed them until she was just outside a large den on the opposite side of the house. The door to the den was ajar. “It will focus in a second,” she heard Homer say. There was a pause. “Shit,” he shouted, “it looks like the gold bars are already gone. They must have moved very fast . . . The picture is really not very clear. Here, you take a look.”

  “Ya,” said Greta. “The bars are gone, I think . . . But Homer, the gold would be very heavy. Maybe the thieves are trapped in the tunnel . . . Timmy could search for them.”

  “That would fix the bastards,” Homer’s nervous laugh sent chills down Carol’s spine. She back pedaled slowly until she had retreated to the main foyer of the house. She heard an outside door slam in the direction of the den. They’ve gone out to turn the sharks loose. Jesus. I must warn Nick and Troy.

  Carol walked into the nearest bathroom in the hallway, pushed the door closed, and turned on the water faucet. Then she flushed the commode and untaped the small walkie-talkie that was hidden inside her shirt. She put the unit right next to her mouth. “Mayday, mayday,” she said. “They know you’re there. You are in danger.” She repeated the message and then pushed the button that would automatically recycle the communication several more times. I certainly hope this damn thing works, she thought.