Atlantis Page 2

His fear intensified as the science team confirmed the coordinates. They had arrived to the dive area and wasted no time in doing so.

  Slowly, water began to rise from the bottom of each window. Signifying the beginning, or, if the science team didn't live up to its reputation, the beginning of the end.

  As each member watched the submarine lowering itself beneath the water's surface, Josh concentrated on the speckles of sunlight which grew thinner by the moment. Wondering if it would truly be his final chance to see the majestic rays that he'd neglected to care about until this very moment. Thinking long and hard about other possible miracles of nature he should have given more attention to.

  With his thoughts came the final glimmer of sunlight. Replaced by bright blue water and a growing fear that stabbed his very soul.

  “So, is there a significant other back where you came from? Heaven, I believe it's called.”

  Josh had hoped for a smile, though he quickly earned the worst response possible. Silence.

  “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry or anything, I just have a tendency to ramble when I'm nervous.”

  “You're nervous?” Erica asked.

  Moments later she began to smile, prompting Josh to do the same. His edginess was obvious – strong fingers digging deeply into the overstuffed plush of the arms which ran their course from the seats beneath.

  “No. I'm sad to report there's no significant other back home. Not that I haven't had the opportunity, mind you, but I'm much too busy for any sort of romance at this stage in my life.” Erica added.

  Josh nodded his appreciation of her willingness to help him though such a tough moment by talking.

  “Yourself?” she asked.

  “Well,” Josh replied with a bit of hesitation. “It's hard to explain the stage of life I'm in at the moment. I guess you'd call it the, I just had my heart crushed by my high school sweetheart upon returning from military service stage.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Not a big deal, really,” Josh replied. His statement layered with a thick icing of lies. “Being dumped by way of paper and pencil kind of grows on you with time. Besides, I had the bottle of wine all to myself.”

  “That's terrible,” Erica replied. Her thoughts completely vested into his story. “I hope the wine was top-shelf, at least.”

  “It was truly fantastic.”

  “What happened next?” Erica asked.

  “Two not so fine men showed up at my house, strong-armed me into taking the trip of a lifetime, at which time I was locked in segregation, at cake and thought about being dumped. Though I did have the pleasure of meeting a new friend along the way.”

  “Oh, why thank you.” Erica replied with blushed cheeks.

  “I actually meant the boozer who swapped seats with you.” Josh replied with a grin from ear to ear.

  “Oh.” Erica replied.

  “Not that you and I aren't friends. Slumming it back here with us non-scientist types, that carries a lot of weight with me. I just can't look at you as the same type of friend. Not yet at least.”

  “Why is that?” she questioned.

  “Well ma'am, you make me nervous.”

  “Come again?” Erica asked.

  “I don't know what it is, really. You're either super intelligent or brilliantly gorgeous, and I can't figure out which.”

  With his cheese-filled confession, Josh began looking her over closely.

  “Yep, that's what I figured. It's both.”

  “Oh, you are so full of it.” Erica replied with a giggle.

  “Hey, I'm just being honest here. If I happen to run across the most beautiful sunset these eyes have ever seen, I'd have no choice but to announce it.”

  “That has to be the scrawniest, mangiest damn dog I've ever seen.” Winston said.

  “Not a dog person I take it?”

  The scientist questioning Winston was of the stereotype. Relatively thick glasses, very rich on intelligent vocabulary while desperately poor on hair when it came to his shining skull.

  “Hell, I'm a dog person through and through. But I like 'em like I take my women. With a little damn meat on their bones, that's all. A bulldog or mastiff, maybe, but what's a little white shit-stain like that going to do for you?

  Both Winston and the scientist turned to look the dog over. Typical teacup Pomeranian, its fur bright white and its grin a bit nasty.

  “I think it's a very cute breed.” the scientist replied.

  “Well, Mr. Martin,” Winston replied slowly enough to read the man's name badge. “I think it's a worthless bag of bones and fuzz.

  “It's Roger. Roger Martin.”

  “Good to know,” Winston replied. “But it don't change the fact that your taste in dogs is a bit off. Who brings a dog on a damn underwater dive, anyway?”

  “None of us own him, technically speaking. At least not outright. He's more of the designated mascot for our science team. He's got a knack for being just as intelligent as anyone aboard this vessel.”

  As Winston stared back into the dog's direction, the snappy dog snarled it's very small but pointed teeth directly back. Daring Winston to speak another ill word.

  You little bastard. Winston though. His stare never faltering.

  They had travelled for several hours. Some of the crew choosing to sleep during much of the descent. As Winston had made clear to those around him before being the first to visit dreamland, they were aboard a submarine and at the mercy of a game between water pressure and their science team. It didn't matter if they were awake to see it happen or sleeping soundly, if the submarine began crushing due to pressure, they were already dead.

  He'd also made it very clear to those around him that he was fucking tired. Having been scooped up at a diner near Mobile, Alabama. Winston had now way of knowing he'd be involved in a group sent to find the lost city of Atlantis. Had he of known, Winston may have steered clear of the whiskey only hours before he was picked up. Then again, probably not. But it made for some interesting chatter as Winston bitched and moaned about being nabbed by two guys in a cheap sedan. Just as the rest of their civilian crew had been.

  Most of the trip down was calm and flowing according to plan, until the submarine took a strong and unexpected dive, flicker the lights aboard and nearly throwing team members from their seats as Josh gripped his seat that much tighter.

  “You can relax,” Erica said. “It's just an underwater current. A rather strong one though, I have to admit.”

  “I can't understand you?” Josh admitted. “We're miles under the ocean, surrounded by God only knows what, and you sit there as calm as can be. How do you manage to pull off serenity like that?”

  “It's the chance of a lifetime. We could be the very first people to ever visit the lost city of Atlantis.” Erica replied with a glowing smile.

  “They unearth all kinds of cities in the desert. I'd much rather be there with an open sky above and the wind to my back.”

  “How much do you actually know about Atlantis?” she asked.

  “Honestly? Not a lot. I mean, I stayed at an Atlantis themed hotel on the beach once. Outside of that, nothing.” Josh replied.

  “Seriously? That's it?” she asked with laughter.

  “Hey, quiet down. I have a reputation to uphold here.” Josh said with a grin.

  “I can't believe you signed your life away to come on a mission underwater in which we have a flip of the coin chance of surviving, just to explore a place you know nothing about?” she said with continued laughter.

  “It's complicated.” Josh replied.

  “What's complicated about that? What would possess you to take on a mission like this?” Erica asked.

  Josh's answer came in the form of a look. One that spoke volumes within its silence.

  “Oh.” Erica said. Her laughing coming to a screeching halt as she found herself without words.

  “I didn't have anything to go back home to. I saw you and I took a chance,” Josh said, his eyes meeting hers head on. “Eithe
r way, I actually want to live through it.”

  “Well, I appreciate the faith you've placed in me, though I fear I'm nowhere close to worthy of it. I listen to dull music, watch classical television and dedicate too much time cooking up fancy dinners for, well, myself.” Erica replied.

  “Hey, I like dinner. It's a date.”

  “Wait, what?” Erica questioned.

  “Well, it sounded like you asked me over for dinner. So I gladly accept.” Josh replied with a grin.

  “But I didn't ask. Wait, what?” she nervously pleaded. “I just meant that I cook too much. You know, cookbooks and the such.”

  “Well how about this?” Josh asked. “If we somehow manage to get back to the surface in one piece, you cook a favorite dish and I'll bring some really good wine?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Just a harmless meeting between two friends. Heck, we can even talk about this Atlantis place if you want to. Or, I can tell you about the hotel I stayed at once. I'll even show you the towel I walked away with.”

  “But it's not a date, right?” Erica asked.

  “A date? Absolutely not, I'll not hear of it. How about this, you can call it whatever makes you feel the most comfortable. Just as long as the food is memorable, I'm sure the rest of the evening will be too?”

  “I don't know.” Erica said.

  “Alright, how about this,” Josh pleaded. “Just promise me you'll think about it. Give me something to think about here, aside from impending doom and the discovery of a city that I know nothing about.”

  “Alright, I'll think about it.” Erica replied.

  “Good. It's a date.”

  “Wait, what?” she asked.

  As the words rolled from her pouty lips, the submarine took another dive. This time, scaring everyone aboard, including the scientists who had looked forward to such a dangerous journey into the endless blue tapestry of water.

  “Another current?” Josh asked loudly as panic rippled throughout the vessel.

  “Not this strong, no!” Erica replied with panic.

  “That figures.” he replied with a loud and discouraged voice.

  The sight of soldiers pushing their way through to the captain's area of the submarine told Josh everything he needed to know. Something was wrong. A quick glimpse outside of the small window near their seats confirmed another staggering fact.

  The lost city of Atlantis was real.

  Though barely visible, he could see sparkling tips of tall buildings clustered together in strange designs – matching the architecture of the buildings themselves. All of it unlike anything he'd seen before.

  Only a few hundred feet away and closing fast, the city became larger by the second. Its beauty robbing each person of words. Their fears becoming secondary as the city had a way of captivating each of them.

  “Oh my God.” Erica said. Awestruck by the design of such a marvelous city.

  “Something is wrong.” Josh replied.

  “No. No it looks even more magnificent than I could have ever imagined.”

  “I mean with the submarine. Something is wrong. I've seen this kind of panic on the faces of soldiers before and it never ends well.”

  Another dive took place. Steel plunging quickly, although the water around it seemed to fade away. A complete free fall as those aboard the doomed submarine brace themselves for whatever impact lay ahead. Josh extending his arm across the torso of Erica, doing what he could to offer her any type of protection as danger closed in.

  The next memory burned into Josh's mind was that of impact. Steel wreckage curving around them as the crew's cabin began splintering apart. Piercing sounds of damage and destruction overpowering that of the screaming helpless.

  “You alright?” Winston asked.

  Josh could make out the shape of Winston's face as the voice fell loudly onto his eardrums. As did a pounding sound, associated with the damning headache in his skull.

  “Don't make me resort to using mouth-to-mouth, brother.”

  “Oh God no. Please, no.” Josh replied. Extending his left hand upward a bit and praying that Winston's whiskery lips didn't meet his own. Not now, not ever.

  “You're OK. Let me help you to your feet.” Winston said.

  With that, a strong tug followed a gripping of hands as Josh found himself quickly standing to his feet – though still bewildered.

  “What the hell happened?” Josh asked. Doing everything he could to hold a free hand to his brow and fight the headache that continued to pound away.

  “Not sure. Nobody is.” Winston replied.

  “Erica?”

  “She's fine, brother. Just a little banged up and disoriented. A lot of others weren't so lucky.” Winston replied.

  “Dead?”

  “Yep. Afraid so.”

  “Dear God.” Josh replied.

  “Those of us who made it are planning to find a way off of this tangled up piece of shit. I guess we'll eventually go from there.” Winston said.

  “Good plan.”

  “It's a shame that little ragtag son of a bitch made it through.” Winston said with zest. Grumbling his words to the small dog that continued barking. “I'd like to stick my boot a couple of feet up its ass.”

  “Could you shut him up?” Josh asked. “He's killing me here.” he added. Continuing to fight a splitting headache.

  “Hey, why don't you...” Winston said, reaching toward the dog before quickly jerking his arm back with panic. “The little bastard just tried to bite me.”

  Adding salt to injury, the puffy-haired lapdog grinned with a mask of sharpened teeth. Warning Winston to stay away.

  “Oh, I'll get 'ya,” Winston said with conviction. “When I get my hands on you, I'll skin your hide and turn you into a pair of bedroom slippers, you little moth-bitten bastard.”

  “Let's get everyone we can together and get off of this rig.” Josh suggested.

  “That's a good idea. Better get me away from this longhair gremlin before I show him what a big dog can do.”

  As the survivors began to ease themselves through one of the few doors left intact, it seemed as though most among them fought the very same headache. Likely brought on by extreme stress and sudden impact.

  Looking directly up, Josh saw the ocean above him – though his feet remained firmly planted onto some type of steel flooring. Completely dry, as if he were indoors.

  “How can this be?” Josh asked.

  “Beats the fuck out of me, young lad.” Winston replied.

  “A shield of some type. At least that's the best explanation. Something is in place that's pushing the water back.” Roger commented. Approaching the two men.

  “I though this city was supposed to be old?” Josh asked.

  “Very old. 400 years B.C., or older and that's only the first mention of it. Atlantis is much older, depending on who you ask.”

  “How can that be?” Josh asked. “I'm seeing illumination all over. This place has lighting, so it has a power source of some type,” he added. “What is this place?”

  “It's Atlantis,” Erica replied. Walking close to the man who thought of her so intimately. “Just not like the beach hotel you stayed at, I'm guessing.”

  “You got that shit right.” Winston added.

  “On me.” Captain Ellis said loudly. Ordering his military-trained to form up.

  “That's our cattle call, brother.” Winston said.

  “No time like the present.” Josh replied.

  As the two men approached Captain Ellis, they both grinned a bit. Their newly-made friend, Flea, standing as firmly as anyone left.

  “That scrawny son of a bitch is a survivor. I'll give him that much,” Winston commented. “He's tough.”

  “Yep. He's a keeper.”

  “Listen up,” the captain said. “We've got myself, Pierce, Stills, Patterson, Bethel, Duke and Taylor. That's it. The rest of our trained are K.I.A. That's confirmed.”

  “Confirmed? Hell, we had at least thirty soldiers on that
oversized tuna can?” Winston asked with confusion.

  “Enough, Stills. I'm doing the talking and you're doing the listening. Got it?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Like I was saying,” Captain Ellis said, keeping his attention on the man with loose lips. “The rest are dead. We have a lot of civilians and most are injured in some fashion. In terms of security, we're it, so I want everything to go clean cut and by the book. Understood?”

  The small group of military-trained let him know that they were with him. Each of them nodding with discipline.

  “Good. Orders come from me, fall to Lieutenant Pierce and he'll keep you in line. Anyone disobeys an order, they answer to the barrel of my side-arm. That is non-negotiable. First order of business is to secure a perimeter and work on getting the deceased off of our rig. We may need it to bunk until we find something better.

  Sergeant Duke, you're posting to the door of what's left of our submarine. Nobody re-enters without my order. Stills and Patterson, you two find us a secure area close by to hold the deceased crew members. Bethel and Taylor, you two secure the area around our crash site. About two hundred yards on each side and don't touch anything, and I mean ANYTHING. That's a fucking order. Pierce, you're with me. We need to figure out what in the hell happened and go from there.”

  “Yes sir.” Josh replied.

  “How's the head?” Captain Ellis asked.

  “Splitting like a damn banana,” Josh replied. “Sir.”

  “I don't doubt that a bit,” the captain replied. “From the best we can figure, our submarine took a free fall of several stories.”

  “How is that possible, sir?” Josh questioned. “We were in the water?”

  “We're not really sure just yet. Our science team thinks there's some sort of bubble draping over the city. Protecting it from the water. Something to do with a magnetic current, but who can tell. You have to pull keywords out of the scientific babble they spit out.”

  Protecting it?

  “It's some type of a shield, actually.” David replied.

  “Lieutenant Pierce, David Hopkins. David, this is-”

  “Yes sir, we've already met,” Josh replied. “What do you mean a shield?”

  “It appears to be magnetic, from what we can tell. Something within the city is creating the field, which arcs over the city. Keeping the water at bay, though if metal pulls in close enough...” David began to reply.

  “The magnetic field sucks it in like a vacuum.” Josh replied.

  “Exactly. It pulled us in quickly, like a blast coaster. Once we got past the magnetic field, our submarine fell from the sky like a tin can. We'd all be dead if it weren't for the layers upon layers of thick steel exterior.” David said.

  “Thank God for that.” Josh replied.

  “It's just the tip of the iceberg, from the look of things. As I stumbled out of the wreckage, immediately I noticed several things. The city is powered somehow and there is strange writing and markings throughout. And that's just from standing where we are. It's hard to say what our team will find once we begin branching out and exploring.”

  “It seems to me like our first order of business should be figuring out a way to get back to the surface.” Josh stated.

  “Negative, lieutenant. David and I agree on this issue. We're down here to do a job and as long as we can do it safely, exploration is job number one.” Captain Ellis replied.

  “Permission to speak freely, sir?” Josh asked.

  “Go ahead with it.”

  “We haven't been through the wreckage as of yet, but I'm willing to bet that a lot of essentials were lost. Things like food.” Josh said.

  “It's covered, lieutenant. This way.” the captain replied.

  He motioned Josh along with a free hand, walking him over to several things which had been pulled from the wreckage. Among them, dozens of large footlockers marked with the same emblem which rested on each crewman's shoulder.

  “We've got mobile seed depositories, greenhouse equipment and everything vital to growing and maintaining a viable food source. We prepared for everything, son, and if it came down to it, we could live on this very spot.” the captain said.

  “Exactly how long were we expecting to be here?” Josh questioned.

  “As long as it takes to search this city through. Weeks. Months, even. Until the job is done, lieutenant.”

  “Understood, sir.” Josh replied.

  “Now, lieutenant, I'm going to meet with David for a few minutes and discuss plans to set up some type of short-term shelter down here. In the meantime, I need you right here. Make sure all of the deceased are moved from the wreckage and to the designated location, once Stills and Patterson return.”

  “Yes sir.”

  With a salute, the captain was off to meet with the team's lead scientist. Leaving Josh to think long and hard about their mission. Wondering how much deception was involved – and exactly what their mission truly was.

  He knew enough to believe that something bigger was at work. They had effectively made the trip with enough equipment and weaponry to begin colonizing another planet. The fact that a soldier had warned him of a previous trip, well, that just put the situation in an even harsher light. Josh wondered exactly what the group's intentions were, how high up the answers went, and if they even planned a return trip.

  “What do you make of it?” Winston asked.

  Stopping for a moment, Flea looked ahead with caution. Watching as several glowing hexagons moved along it patterns. Lining themselves near every door's entrance and seeming to change patterns with each passing moment.

  “Fuck if I know.” Flea admitted. His combat rifle to the ready and a bead of nervous sweat trickling down from his brow.

  “I know one thing,” Winston replied. “If I see anything I shouldn't, it's getting blown to dog shit.”

  “No can do, compadre,” Flea cautioned. “We have strict orders not to engage anything unless we're under serious threat. We're just here to secure a spot for the fallen and report back.”

  “Well, in that case,” Winston said. “This spot is as good as any. Fuck it.”

  “It's in the middle of the hallway?” Flea questioned.

  “And?”

  “I think the captain meant a room somewhere out of the primary line of sight.” Flea replied with zest.

  “Well he didn't say that.”

  “Are you seriously afraid?” Flea asked with a chuckle. “That's hard to believe, you're about twice my size.”

  “Everybody is twice your size,” Winston jested. “And hell no I'm not afraid. Just cautious. There's a difference.”

  “Good. Then cautiously lead the way.” Flea said.

  Ya' little cock-eyed fuck. I'll lead the way, but I don't have to like it.

  “Single room on the right, see it?” Flea asked as both men continued their walk of

  “Yea, I see it. Who the fuck do I look like, Ray Charles?”

  Winston's question was an honest one. A large entryway without doors, though it did contain the same changing pattern of glowing hexagons nearby. It couldn't be missed by the naked eye, leaving Winston to wonder if Flea was truly that vague, or, even worse, if the runt of a sniper was poking fun.

  As the two men entered, rifles prepared to go all-in should the need arise, the room opened into a much wider space. Reminiscent of a meeting hall of some type back on the surface above them.

  “This will do,” Flea commented. “It's certainly wide open enough, a single entry way and it's a bit off to itself.”

  “That's what I was thinking.” Winston replied. A full-blown lie, of course. Winston had anything but the mission on his mind. Wondering how long he could possibly go without a good, stiff drink.

  “Can you make it back to let them know?” Flea asked.

  “Um-” Winston said.

  “I mean, do you remember which turns we made?”

  “For the most part.” Winston announced.

  “That's a no. Last thing
we want to do is wander off and get lost in here,” Flea replied. “Can you sit tight right here while I double back and let the XO know?”

  “That I can do. It'll give me plenty of time to mow down a cigar.”

  “May want to hold off on that. Could be anything-”

  “Oh, I'm smoking,” Winston replied harshly. “You can bet your rosy-red ass on that my vertically-challenged brother.”

  “Fair enough,” Flea said. “Hold it down. I'll be back directly.”

  “That's a big 10-4, little buddy,” Winston said, cracking a grin as the corner of his mouth held onto a massive cigar. Nearly a half-foot in length, it seemed nearly as wide. By cigar standards, anyway. “If you get lost coming back, just follow the smoke.”

  With that statement, a burst of pollution rolled out – offering the hint of rum while providing a near-blind smokescreen. Winston stoking it a bit as the cigar rolled through his fingers for a moment, providing an even burn as the rugged soldier put his back into the far corner of the large room. Resting ass to the floor and rifle to the door – though smoke continued to billow out into the hallway as if Atlantis herself were on fire.

  “Alrighty.” Flea said, though he could no longer see Winston's face. Just a dim silhouette of the man who knew nothing about the legend of Atlantis – and everything about the finest of lip torches.

  “I say again, do you copy?” Captain Ellis said loudly.

  “It's no use, sir,” a scientist replied.

  “Excuse me?” the captain asked, reaching down and scanning the name badge of the science officer. “Sam Lindsey.”

  “Well, I figure between the water depth and magnetic shield arcing over the city, there's no way possible that we're getting a transmission out.”

  “Is that right?” Captain Ellis asked. “And you're one of the better scientists?”

  “No sir,” Sam replied. “I am the best. The big cheese. The top dog. One day I plan on letting them build a museum in my honor.”

  Those idioms sat with the captain for a moment. His military mind slowly basting the words around like a rack of Carolina pork ribs.

  “Well then, big cheese,” the captain said with firmness in his voice. “You head off and find a way to boost this signal enough to get in touch with our people back on the surface. You got that? It's not a request, it's an order – and it's non-negotiable.”

  “How do you expect me to do that?” Sam asked.

  “However the big cheese among the science field normally do it. In other words, I don't care. Just do it.” the captain replied.

  “But I have no idea what is out there?” Sam pleaded. “We literally have no idea what's behind each corner of this city?”

  “Lieutenant Pierce!” the captain shouted. “Double-time it!”

  “Yes sir?” Josh asked, rushing to his XO.

  “Assist the big cheese here. A four-man team, nothing more. Escort him wherever he needs to go in order to establish contact with the surface.”

  “Yes sir.” Josh replied.

  “And lieutenant,” Ellis added. “Understand that the big cheese is not to return until the task is complete. We clear on that?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Good,” Captain Ellis said. “Move out.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “What's with that guy?” Sam asked as the duo of poor souls moved forward, preparing to assemble a team.

  Josh was prepared for anything. A combat issued 9MM strapped to his leg, while his hands gripped a FN SCAR. A top of the line rifle, given the circumstances of their mission. Plenty of ammo and fully-suppressed.

  “He's a real hard ass.” Josh replied.

  “Yea, I'm getting that,” Sam replied with a touch of anger. “He has no idea how difficult it will be to boost a signal down here. Hell, I have no idea how difficult it will be to boost a signal down here. It's not as simple as grabbing some cable, attaching a coat hanger and slapping tin foil to it. I have no idea what I'm working with, no idea where to go from here and certainly no idea-”

  “Calm down.” Josh said.

  “Calm down? You are the one banned from the tribe unless you complete the biggest miracle of them all.”

  “Just take a deep breath. We have to get a couple of guys together first, then we'll go from there.”

  “I mean the nerve of that guy! I'm not even in the military!”

  “Sam, calm down,” Josh said once more. “Can you do it or not?”

  “What, calm down?”

  “No!” Josh replied, just as upset as his counterpart. “Can you boost the damn signal, yes or no?”

  “Hell yes I can,” Sam replied with his chest out a bit. “I'm the greatest mind here. The rest of these lackeys are peasants under my feet in terms of ability.”

  “Because you're the big cheese.”

  “Yes. Exactly. It's about time somebody started getting that.”

  “Well then, big cheese,” Josh said. “What exactly will you need in order to get it done? Any idea?”

  “Well, that is the million dollar question. At this range, acoustic transmission is virtually out of the question. I would think that some type of ELF transmission, once boosted a great deal, would make it to the surface. Though I've no idea what type of shield is hovering above the city.”

  “But what do you need?” Josh asked once more. Hoping to end the rambling of a very scientific man. “Laundry list.”

  “I'll need a communicator, preferably the main communicator housed aboard our submarine. I'll need one of our better computers, a portable signal tower and Erica Lawson.”

  “Erica Lawson?” Josh asked. Immediately drawn to the man's request. Just the mention of her name giving the lieutenant butterflies.

  “Part of what makes me so damn smart, is knowing when I need help. I can boost the signal all day long, hell, when I get done we'll be echoing on the surface of the moon. But I don't know anything about the ancient language or layout of their technology. I'll do the work but she can speed the process up greatly by putting me where I need to be. She's an expert on ancient writing and has zero social life to show for it.”

  “And your social life is booming?”

  “I have parties from time to time.” Sam admitted.

  “Well, Erica it is then,” Josh happily replied. “We just need a bit more firepower.”

  “What about him?” Sam asked.

  Flea was jogging down a long corridor which led to their present location. Rifle in hand.

  “Where's Winston?” Josh asked.

  “Back this way about six-hundred yards. I know the way.” Flea replied.

  “Good. Take me there.”

  “But I just ran all the way back here?”

  “Well then take a breather, you whiner; it'll give me time to round up one more person anyway.” Josh replied.

  “Whiner?” Flea angrily asked.

  “I mean it in the friendliest way possible.” Josh added with a grin.

  “Yea,” Flea remarked. “Sure you do.”

  “Are you sure this is the way?” Josh asked.

  A good question, it seemed, as everything looked uniform. The walls were identical in a basic sheen of silver – smooth texture and seamless. In fact, the only true difference was the glowing pattern of hexagons above each door. Some of them emitting a bit of a different color than what seemed to be the standard apricot orange.

  “Yes, I'm sure. I'm good with directions.” Flea replied.

  “See,” Sam added. “He's good with directions.”

  “Just keep your eyes open and guns ready,” Josh said. “As a precaution. I don't like the idea of walking around blind.”

  Throughout the exchange of words, Erica remained quiet – worrying Josh a bit. He desperately hoped he was still in her good graces.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Yea. Why do you ask?” Erica replied.

  “Well, you just haven't been that talkative. Has me a little worried. Beautiful women make me nervous, and when they get sile
nt, I worry.”

  “No need to worry, lieutenant. I'm completely overwhelmed right now with wonder and amazement, I suppose. These halls were built thousands of years ago and it's all very interesting to me. To think that a race existed long before we recorded our own history. It's a truly remarkable feeling to be walking their halls.”

  “What is all of this?” Josh asked, pointing to the glowing hexagons. They lined the upper portions of the walls, especially in clusters around each doorway.

  “From what I can tell, it's writing of some type. Perhaps their own alphabet or language, though highly-advanced.” she replied.

  “Interesting.” he admitted.

  “Not just interesting,” Erica replied. “Intoxicating.”

  “I suppose it is,” he commented. “Or, at least, the smile on your face is at the moment. I can tell you truly enjoy this.”

  “There's no place I'd rather be.”

  “Hold,” Flea said quietly. “Up ahead.”

  “A fire?” Josh asked.

  “Well, something like that.”

  “Do I smell rum?” Josh asked, sniffing the air with intrigue.

  “Indeed you do,” Flea replied. “Vintage Puerto Rico, if I had to guess. He's burning one as long as your leg.”

  Josh smiled a bit, while shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Flash.” Flea announced loudly, his body hugging the corner of a doorway.

  “Bang.” Winston replied, lowering his rifle.

  “Looks like a damn forest fire in here, buddy.” Josh said with a grin, entering to meet up with his friend.

  “You know it.” Winston replied. Finally crushing the heel of a used cigar beneath his thick combat boot.

  “Alright Flea, you know the way back?” Josh asked.

  “Of course I do,” the sniper replied snidely. “I just forgot to pack my damn running shoes, sir.”

  “OK. Double back and get them started on moving the fallen here. Let our good captain know that I'll continue radio contact every fifteen minutes and we'll do everything we can to get the signal boosted to the surface.”

  “Will do,” Flea replied, turning for a moment to smile at Winston. “You folks be sure to have fun.”

  “Have fun?” Winston asked, watching the tiny sniper begin jogging away. “The fuck he mean by that?”

  “We're going to do a little exploring.” Josh replied.

  “Well ain't that some shit.”

  “The count is twenty-five total, sir,” Private Bethel replied. Her hair black and her posture one of a greenhorn soldier. “Seven military, the other eighteen civilian. That includes our four person team working on boosting signal.”

  “Injuries?” Captain Ellis asked.

  “Nothing serious, sir. We had a civilian beat up pretty bad, but I'm sad to inform that he passed on.”

  “Alright,” the captain replied. “And we're moving the deceased out to a separate room, correct?”

  “Yes sir.” the private replied.

  “Good work,” Captain Ellis said. “Work on stripping everything you can from that wreckage. Anything that looks like it may function or may eventually function, pull it. Have our soldiers remain on a parameter in this room. We'll set-up some type of temporary camp right here, as soon as we figure out what resources we have to pull from.”

  “Right away, sir.” she replied.

  As Private Bethel ran off to relay his orders, Captain Ellis remained standing in the same area. Looking across the wreckage and understanding that his people could be here for an extended time. It was to be expected, and he knew it. He'd thoroughly read through the report by the original team. Captain Ellis understood the real mission at hand, and it was going exactly as planned.

  “We'll need to get to the highest point possible,” Sam announced. “Not that it takes the world's smartest man to figure that out.”

  “Your best bet would be atop one of the towers at the corners of the city,” Josh replied. “But that looks like a very long hike, no matter how we slice it.”

  The team of four stood on the rooftop of a smaller building. Doing what they could to put together a sense of direction. The glimmering shield above them held water back, though not even their brightest scientist understood why. Only a portion of the mystery which shrouded the lost city of Atlantis.

  “Is it really our top priority?” Erica questioned. “I understand that communicating with the surface is vital, but we're surrounded by wondrous technology at every turn. We should be making a note of everything.”

  “Yea, but we don't know how any of this shit works.” Winston said.

  “True,” Erica said in agreement. “But Sam and I are the top among our science team. Together, we could figure out a lot of this on our own. I'm sure of it. It's why the government wants us here.”

  “She's right,” Sam replied. “If Erica can figure out their language, or, at least a portion of it, there's no telling what we could achieve as a group. If the shield above is this advanced, it's hard to imagine what some of their other technology may look like once we find it and get the hang of things.”

  “And what am I supposed to tell Captain Ellis every fifteen minutes? Don't call us, we'll call you?” Josh asked.

  “Look, I'm not saying we abandon the mission here. I'm just saying we could drag our feet a bit and buy a little time to explore. Who knows, maybe we'll find some technology that will help us communicate with the surface that doesn't involve my building a miracle machine of some sort.” Sam replied.

  “Alright,” Josh said. “I'll stall them as long as possible, but that's all I can do. The longer it takes, the more pissed off Captain Ellis is likely to be.”

  “Who cares? The guy already hates me anyway.” Sam replied.

  “The son of a bitch hates everybody.” Winston added, prompting the group of four to begin laughing. Though he spoke the truth.

  “So what do we do now?” Josh asked.

  “Wait,” Erica said, cutting the words of Sam short and demanding to be heard. “Just take a few minutes guys and look up.”

  As they did, Josh immediately understood her reasoning. The view was beautiful beyond any sense of explanation. Pure ocean water resting just a few stories above the tallest building as the city's protective shield held it back – while offering a crystal-clear view of the ocean life above. A bit dark, but illuminated by the lights within the city. Exotic fish swimming in large groups while other, larger creatures of the deep ocean, passed Atlantis with a bit of curiosity. Though very dark, the ocean above was provided enough light to enjoy the fact that they were standing directly below a miracle. Nothing less.

  “Poor girl. Always the hopeless romantic,” Sam commented. “You'll never be the best florist by stopping to smell the roses.”

  “Huh?” Winston asked. “I have no idea what that even means?”

  “It means we have work to do.” Sam replied.

  “Well, I thought it was beautiful.” Josh said. Partly due to the fact that it was, and partly due to his interest in Erica Lawson.

  “Thank you.” she replied with a smile.

  “Oh please, spare me.” Sam commented.

  “Well, since your idea of romance is remaining professional at all times,” Erica said. “My professional opinion is that your plan sucks.”

  “Come again?” Sam asked.

  “If we spend our time climbing stories in a single building, we'll likely find the same thing over and over again. If their race was anything like every other recorded race, they will house similar technology and equipment by building. We could use that time to cover as much area as possible, and, in turn, discover a variety of technology.”

  “The young lady has a point.” Josh added.

  “Well then,” Sam huffed. “The first order of business is to learn the native language. That's on you.”

  “I'm already working on that. I'll know a majority of it within the hour. The designs are very complex, but I suspect they only appear to be that way. I'm leaning tow
ard the ancients using a very simplistic and elegant language.” Erica replied.

  “So,” Sam replied. “Which way?”

  “Allow me.” Winston said, stepping in front of the young woman and pulling his combat revolver.

  Lying it onto the stone flooring, Winston gave a hefty spin. The revolver eventually slowing to a standstill.

  “This way, folks.”

  “Oh, OK. Is that a military thing?” Erica asked.

  “No,” Josh replied quietly. “I think that's a Winston Churchill Stills special.”

  “Churchill?” she asked.

  Her question answered quickly as Winston pulled another well-rounded cigar from his jacket and blazed up. As if the entire ocean rested on his very shoulders.

  Chapter 3

  One Upon An Ancient