Chapter 13

Maneuvering his fighter outside of the hanger bay was easy enough and once Cerelia saw the stars she gave a small gasp of surprise. Mike was wondering why she was so excited about seeing the stars like this. When he asked, she replied, "I never seen the stars like this. When we were slaves we could only see the stars in the night sky and were never allowed onto the bridge of the ship to see them."

Mike felt a little sad for her, so she had seen so much pain and misery in your young life her young life. Holocaust survivors went through much of the same things during their captivity. He was going to cheer her up if it killed him to do it. He turned the small fighter towards the moon and brought the ship in low, nearly skimming the craggy surface. Cerelia grabbedhis arm in an attempt to hold on to something, considering that there was no 'oh-shit-handle' installed in the fighter. He dipped in and out of craters, nearly crashing into a small outcrop rock formation. As they rounded the next valley they came upon the future site of the installation and saw five droids replicating parts, gathering materials, and creating more maintenance droids. The fighter gained altitude steadily, leaving the moon's surface behind them, then headed straight for Earth. It took them a couple of minutes to reach its atmosphere; he scanned the stratosphere looking for the probes that replaced the satellites in orbit. In the distance, the last probe destroyed the satellite it was to replace and began its new duty. As they broke into the atmosphere they could see stratospheric friction heating the nose of the craft. Mike activated the shielding and the friction stopped almost at once, so they enjoyed the rest of their descent.

From the view he saw that they were nearing the western coast of Africa, which only had a few sprinklings of lights. In the twilight this continent seemed almost peaceful until he realized that civil wars and genocidal dictators have plagued this continent since they stop being colonies of other countries. He steered the fighter out to sea, heading in a westerly direction. He brought the fighter within seven feet of the calm sea then cruised back and forth in a lazy zigzag pattern. Cerelia had her face pressed against the canopy, trying to see everything at once. She squealed with delight when a school of flying fish broke the surface and flew for a few feet before landing back into the water. He pushed the accelerator with a 'little more gas' as it were and broke the sound barrier. The wake behind the craft was at least fifteen feet high and sparked in the growing sunlight the further they went west.

'Hmpf, by the time we reach the US shoreline it should be around noonish and we'll have to be more careful.' Mike thought.

He spared a moment to eye the sensors and noticed that twenty miles further ahead was a ship. He tightened the sensors directly on the vessel to get a more detailed idea of what he was dealing with. What the sensors reported almost caused Mike to have a heart attack. They were coming up on a US aircraft carrier and the sensors report that the ship was the USS KITTY HAWK (CV 63).

'For the time being, I'll just avoid her. Maybe a slight course correction to the south will handle it.' he surmised.

Gripping the controls more firmly, he made the course correction which veered the small craft slightly to the southwest. On their present course they would reach Florida in less than ten minutes. He would certainly enjoy the warm weather, hell maybe a quick stop in the Caribbean would be in order. The minutes ticked by slowly, until Mike noticed that something wasn't quite right. He checked the sensors and what he saw puzzled him even further. According to the sensors their current local had no wind, not even a faint stirring of a breeze. The sea also seemed to be unusually calm, almost placid. He ran a diagnostic program on all of the fighters systems just in case there was a bug in the system, though the results show all of the systems running at peek efficiency. The sensors started to beep rapidly, indicating something ahead. At first he was at a loss to he was seeing until it clicked in his brain. It was a rather large island surrounded by a makeshift reef of destroyed ships, planes, and subs.

'What the hell is this? There shouldn't be an island for thousand of miles in any direction.' he thought.

"Mike, is every thing ok? You seem upset." Cerelia asked.

"Well honey, it seems that we're coming up on an island that shouldn't be there. I mean that our people have been mapping this world for countless centuries, starting from simple drawing to evolve into highly detailed computerized mapping satellites high up in orbit. I just can't believe that something as large as this island we're coming up on could be overlooked. Christ, that fucker at least two hundred miles long and one hundred mile wide. How the hell did they miss this?" Stated an exasperated Mike.

"Mike, what does 'fucker' mean?" Asked Cerelia.

He whipped his head around so fast that the bones in his neck pop of their own violation. When he looked at Cerelia, her face was one of naïveté, he relax just a fraction. "Uh, yeah, well it's a word only grown ups are aloud to use ok? So don't repeat it until your older, ok honey."

He knew better but didn't want to discuss it at the moment. He heaved a sigh of relief when she accepted what he said and continued to watch the scenery. They'd reach the island within the next twenty seconds and he was just perplexed about their current situation. That was until the most unlikely of thoughts breach the consciousness of his being.

'No we couldn't be there. Could we? I mean we're in the southwestern region of the Atlantic. I thought those stories were a bunch of bull shit.' He thought.

Mike activated his comm, hoping they weren't where he thought they were.

"Sam, come in. Over."

"Yes, Captain. What can I do for you?" Sam asked.

"Are you uplinked to the Earth information networks yet?"

"Yes sir. I have been shifting through massive amounts of data for the last twenty minutes."

"Good, I need you to tell me where exactly my fighter is at currently. Then tie in those coordinates and search the internet. Then I want you to use one of our satellites to do an in-depth scan of the surrounding area." Ordered Mike.

"Please wait." And the silence there after almost drove Mike to the brink of insanity. He started to drum his fingers on the console in front of him, showing his impatience to his sole passenger.

"According to the coordinates and internet research, you are currently in the area known as 'The Bermuda Triangle'." Sam was quiet for a few minutes.

"Well, that's just fricking great. Where in the triangle are we?" He asked.

"Captain, you are in the exact center of the triangle. After scanning the area it appears there is a shield surrounding the island and a primitive cloaking device encompassing the entire triangle. While both of these devices are running at once it could cause electromagnetic interference. This would explain some of the occurrences some ships encounter while skirting the inner area of the triangle."

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!' He thought.