I'm Working
Parts 5
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“Thank you for your concern, but I’m doing just fine, thank you.” Garth gave Blair a small smile. He didn’t have time for this and, frankly, he wasn’t interested in a quickie with a girl he’d probably never lay eyes on again. On top of that, he was tired of dealing with the constant stream of kiss and tells in the surface tabloids. In and of themselves they were unimportant, of course, but they were a distraction when he was trying to accomplish real work. Not that he was opposed to a little ‘recreation’, of course; this just wasn’t the time. What with the students being held hostage, Arthur being a bit difficult and the entire Justice League pretty unable to help, well this wasn’t really the time.
“I could really help you take your mind off of all this. I really could.” She pouted a bit, something Garth found annoying. He had little patience for game playing; Tula never indulged in that kind of foolishness and he was always happy about that. He preferred to connect with women, not spoiled children.
“I think my attention should stay on the business at hand for now.”
“…Do you think Robin needs some relaxing, then?”
Garth laughed out loud at that. She was better than he’d thought; at least she had a sense of humor. “I think he’s good, as well.”
She dropped the act. “Yeah, well, I too a shot, okay? Are you angry—did I interrupt anything vital?”
He shook his head still smiling. “And that was the perfect break.” He gestured her closer. “Do you really want to help?”
“Could I?” She finally assumed the demeanor of an intelligent young woman instead of a sorority girl on Spring Break.
“No one down here, well almost no one down here speaks or reads English. I could use help translating with what’s coming in. You read or listen to things I give you, summarize them and then give them to me. It’ll save time I don’t have and then I can react faster to what’s happening.”
“Show me what you’re working on.” She sat down next to him, all business, he handed her a stack of e-mails and faxes and they got started.
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“Garth, you’re sure that this will work?”
“I’m sure.” He was on a private communicator to Bob enroute to Wood’s Hole. The frequency was one the Atlantean scans wouldn’t pick up and they were fairly safe talking for now.
“But I’ve never seen this used like this. I’m afraid that there may be consequences we haven’t anticipated and…”
“It’ll work, Bob, just give us a warning or…”
“I know, or there will be dead Atlanteans all over the place.”
Garth knew what he was rising, but it was the only thing he could think of which they could get in place quickly, wouldn’t kill anyone. That was assuming it worked the way it was supposed to—and which the locals and the Atlantean military wouldn’t be expecting or have any major defense against. Of course if word was leaked they could simply destroy the ships and then all hell would break loose, Arthur would go ahead with what he’d started and, as Roy would say, they’d be screwed.
No, better to avoid that. It should work. It really should with minimum damage to anything or anyone. That was theory, but it all looked good and unless he’d seriously miscalculated, they should be back in control by this time tomorrow.
“This will work, Bob. You’ll see.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
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“Dick, is everything ready on this end?”
He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, just stayed where he was in the darkened room stretched out on the bed with the speaker phone or whatever it was, turned to just go through his earphones. Garth was on the other end whispering because—well, because if anyone found out what was being set in motion they’d all be fishfood faster than shit through a goose, as Roy was fond of saying. “It’s good. Everything is set, just let me know when and we’re good to go. I got the signal out through…” He stopped. No names, just in case. “I got the message out. The acknowledgement was received about half an hour ago.”
“Any problems anticipated?”
Dick almost laughed. Problems? You want problems? Make a list and get in line, Tempest…”Nah, we’re good.”
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“Dr. Ballard, sir! We’ve been so worried—your wife was just on the phone and said she was coming down here the second she heard you were spotted in the bay. Are you sure you’re not hurt? I can have you checked if anything…”
“I’m fine, thank you. Now I have some things to do in my office. Please see to it that I’m not disturbed, will you?”
“But Doctor, the press is calling and…”
“Just tell them I’m all right and will have a statement soon.”
“In other words, ‘no comment’, right?”
“…For now, yes. Now if you’ll excuse me and, Joan? Maybe someone could find me some strong coffee, black?”
He closed the door behind him and picked up the red phone, the secure one he used when he had things to discuss with the Joint Chiefs or the head of the Navy or someone like that. He got through quickly, patched through to the Admiral’s home phone as soon as his assistant heard who was on the line.
“Jim, sorry to disturb you at home like this, but there’s a situation I think you need to be aware of and I was hoping that you’d be able to lend a hand.”
“Bob! I thought you were still out with that research tub you’re so fond of. What’s brought you back to dry land?” Admiral Jim Abrams was a surprisingly outgoing man for a senior Admiral with thirty years behind him, but he was good at his job and short of wasting time if he was on you side and you needed something.
“I need to borrow a boat, if you can spare one, that is.”
“Just what kind of a boat are you talking about, Bobby? And just why is it you want one of ours when you have a marina full of your own?”
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“I called Bruce and he’s contacted the lab. It’s being crated as we speak and should be ready for pick up inside of an hour or so.”
Garth was in Dick’s assigned quarters under the pretense of making sure he was all right under the stress of being in confinement. The music was on and the guards were outside but they were whispering anyway. “Is there an estimated delivery time?”
“Close to midnight, local time.”
“And it’s all under tight security, no one knows, right?”
“Lucius is in charge, so no problem.”
Garth nodded. He knew Dick had implicit faith in Fox and that was high reference, but Garth didn’t know the man himself so he was worried. If what they were hoping to do got out nothing would stop Arthur short of a major intervention, probably involving a lot of people being killed.
“He’ll do it, don’t worry, Garth. If I thought there was a question I would have called in someone else to do it—there’s no one better, that’s why he’s got the job. I’m telling you; he’ll do it right.”
Garth’s expression was doubtful, but he didn’t say anything, probably because there wasn’t any point. It wold either work r it wouldn’t. If it worked, then well and good. If it didn’t then there was a good chance that Garth and a few others—okay, a lot of other people would be dead. It was pretty much out of their hands now, at least this part of the plan. They’d have their time—or Garth and his allies would, after the plan was set I motion. Robin and the college students were just along for the ride and hope they weren’t caught in the middle.
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“I’m just so scared—are they doing anything at all to get us out of here? I mean we’re like hostages or something.”
“I know, I keep thinking about those poor people who were held in Iran back in like 1980 or something. They were there for over a year. Can you imagine being in this creepy place for like a year?”
“Garth seems okay, but the rest of them—God!”
“Maybe we could rush them? There are never more than two or three guards in here at a time. We could jump them and then…”
“And then what, brain boy? Have you looked out the windows? Have you clued into where we are? You piss these guys off and you’re sushi, dude.”
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“Captain, we’re in position.”
“Is the device ready?”
“Yes sir, all we have to do is remove the crating.”
“Please do so and have Dr. Ballard join us on the bridge.” The ensign turned to follow orders. There was a big box, maybe ten feet on a side, lashed to the deck and no one knew what was in it who wasn’t in the ‘need to know’ loop. A few of the seamen were starting on the crate with nail pullers and crowbars. Inside of about ten minutes it was dismantled and the weird looking machine it housed was out in the open.
“Doctor? What next?”
“We’re on the coordinates?”
“Yes, sir. Dead on.”
“Hoist the machine over the side to a depth of five fathoms. I’ll be able to activate it from here as soon as it’s in position.”
The admiral gave him a wary look. “You know, I don’t know as much about this thing as I’d like to and that makes me nervous. You want to tell me what’s going to happen when you push the ‘on’ button?”
“I’m sorry, Admiral, but I’m limited as to how much I can discuss about this.”
“Doctor, I appreciate that, but I’d like to know if this ship is in some kind of danger I might be able to prepare my crew for.”
Behind the relatively mild words, Ballard knew was a man who wanted an answer and who, frankly, probably deserved one. “May we speak in private for a moment, sir?”
They went to the Captain’s day cabin, adjacent to the bridge, closing the door behind them. “We’re in position to set off a massive sonar ping aimed straight down to the bottom. We may repeat it two or three times. That’s what that object is your men are deploying over the side.”
“That doesn’t look like any sonar unit I’ve ever seen—okay, point taken.” The admiral tried to figure out why the fuck they were doing this. “What the hell are we doing screwing around with sonar? Mapping of some kind? You looking for something I’m not supposed to know about?”
“That’s the classified part, I’m afraid.” No one was supposed to know where, exactly, Atlantis was located nor that their king—or one of their kings since they seemed to have several, was a member of the damn JLA— and was going around the bend.
“What’s the possible danger to my ship?”
“Possible, though unlikely, retaliation.”
The admiral wasn’t a stupid man. He knew exactly whom they might be facing a response from and it scared the hell out of him. Atlantis was an enemy he wouldn’t begin to know how to fight on their home playing field. Those people knew things about the sea and were experts in areas no surface navy had even thought about yet.
They returned to the bridge, the sonar device was over the side and ready to go, all Ballard had to do was sequence the program. Placing the control panel on the chart table he armed the thing, checked his watch, and waited exactly five minutes and thirty-seven seconds then pushed two buttons. Two minutes later he repeated the sequence, waiting.
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It was like an explosion of white-hot pain slicing through their brains and down their spinal cords to sweep out to every cell in their bodies like a wave crashing up a delta and devastating everything it touched.
Even Robin and the surface students felt the wave, like the air being forced out from some kind of explosion or like being dragged through the water when a big wave crashes into you and you’re knocked off your feet. It’s bigger and stronger than you are and you know that you’re just along for the ride, hoping you’re still okay when it stops.
Managing to look out the window of his suite, Robin saw people sprawled on the ground, floating lifelessly, holding their heads as if they’d just had an aneurysm explode in their brains. Men, women and children, it didn’t matter. This thing was an equal opportunity leveler. Two minutes later another blast hit and the few people who’d been struggling to right them selves were knocked down again, maybe harder than the first hit. This time not many did anything other than just seem to lose consciousness.
Christ.
It reminded Dick of descriptions he’d heard of that bomb which leaves all the buildings standing but kills everyone in them. What was that called? He’d think of it but not this minute.
This was the kind of thing Atlantean science was capable of? And Garth or someone had convinced Bruce ti get Wayne Enterprises to make the thing in secret? What the frig?
Jesus.
And Garth let it loose on his own people? This was the best idea he and his flunkies could come up with to slow down, maybe stop Arthur? He was willing to kill of the population of Poseidonis to stop Arthur?
For the first time in the years he’d known Garth, after all the times they’d worked together, helped one another, covered one another’s backs, talked through to dawn about everything on their minds. In all that time he’d never considered it possible that Garth would have this kind of cold-bloodedness in him. That he might be capable of, willing to kill.
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“Another pulse, Admiral, please hold your position.”
“On your signal, Doctor.”
Another sonic wave ripped downwards towards the city.
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“Your Majesty, are you all right? Your Majesty?”
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