Chapter 27

The Masi'shen take prisoners

"If we send the submersible under the ice to follow the trail, there is no way to send assistance if they run into opposition," Gunter Hahn warned. He, Captain Otto Hartmann, and chief technician Keller sat around the conference table in Captain Hartmann's dayroom. They planned to send the ship's mini-sub to investigate the apparent terminus of the penguin autobahn on the coast of Siple Island.

"Yes, it is a difficult decision and a risky situation. But we do not have the resources to do otherwise," Captain Hartmann added. "Therefore, we either do it, or we do not. But I am afraid that if we do not send the sub, Herr Schmidt will order us to send it regardless of risk, once he sees our report of their paths converging and leading to the island," Captain Hartmann advised.

"He will, I am certain. So are we to be aggressive with our action and risk the loss of the sub and crew, or do we appear timid and force Herr Schmidt to order the action?" Hahn questioned.

"Herr Hahn, I think you have just answered your own question. Keller, please inform your crews to make the submersible ready with all reasonable haste. Herr Hahn, it is my suggestion that you allow volunteers from the qualified men to man the sub. I hesitate to order men into unknown dangers if we have crew willing to assume the risk voluntarily," Captain Hartmann advised.

"I agree, of course, Captain. Herr Keller, unless you advise otherwise, could we have the submersible and its volunteer crew ready to launch at the beginning of the next watch?" Hahn tried not to let too much concern show in his voice. His greatest worry was that the men of the submersible would be totally isolated during their exploratory mission, with no way to communicate, to report distress or attack, or to be rescued should their mission go badly. There would be no way of knowing if or how they might meet disaster under the ice.

Viktor Lucenkovich was as well informed of the SeaVire mission results as Werner Schmidt or the Captain and officers of the Interdictor. Two of his Nikogda Snova men were working members of the ship's crew. He had regular updates sent to him by their encrypted burst communications via satellite radio. The discovery of the alien capabilities on the penguin autobahn, the impossible speeds and distances covered by the alien swimmers—all confirmed the truth of the scenes shown to him by his dream visitors.

He became worried when he read that the Interdictor mission threatened to become more aggressive by searching for an entrance into a suspected center of alien activity. He believed this would lead to a confrontation, a call for reinforcements and, he feared, an all-out attack against the aliens.

He went to sleep that night with worry foremost in his mind. An elderly native woman thousands of miles away felt the ripples of concern in her mind.

"Husband, I think we have a problem," she nudged the old man sipping coffee at their breakfast table.

"I agree. I too, feel the unsettling worry. I suppose it is time for another visit. Could we please finish our breakfast?"

Viktor was not at all uncomfortable to find himself called into the circle with the elders. As before, he sat on a rough mat facing a small stone bowl and its rising tendrils of fragrant smoke. This time, the old people were smiling.

"Welcome, Mr. Lucenkovich. We are pleased that you could be with us, but we sense that something troubles your mind. It occurs to us that this may be some ill development—one that concerns us all?"

"Thank you, honored elders. Yes, I have much to share with you. It concerns me that we have no way to warn our friends of what is planned against them."

Viktor explained the discoveries of the SeaVire operation, up to their decision to launch a submersible to probe what lay under the ice at the edge of Siple Island.

The elders nodded in agreement. Not only must a warning be sent, but there must be a more direct communication link established. They decided to connect Viktor with Marie and her companions.

"Viktor, I will inform my granddaughter and her companions that they must trust you, and maintain a line of communication that you may share these things as you learn them. Perhaps they will learn and share what they can with you, as the need arises. Tell us the numbers and links which they should use to reach you in privacy and security; we will share that information with them once we have convinced them of your change of heart, shall we say?"

Marie's dream was rudely interrupted by the smiling face of her grandmother.

"Honored grandmother, I am aware this is a dream, but really! May I have no privacy!? This is a most inopportune time ... sometimes you interrupt at the most awkward moments!" Marie was blushing, if that is possible to do in a dream; she lay snuggled in a luxurious hotel suite bed with Steve. Her dream of the moment had been an extension of an hour spent in his arms earlier that evening. The flush of love and affection filled her dream, until her Grandmother had so rudely... !

"My apologies, young one. You might remember that I was once a young maiden with dreams of my own, and I do not think it dims with age. I sleep with my first and only love, and while we are no longer young, we lay together and share dreams!

"Hear me carefully, my granddaugher. I have a warning that you must pass to the white angel maiden and her people, and to do that, you must trust and obey me. It will be a difficult thing I ask of you, but please trust the truth of this matter. He who was once an enemy, who has done great harm, has changed his heart. He is now an ally. He has information that you must hear directly from him."

Grandmother told Marie to write everything down when she awakened. The difficulty, grandmother cautioned, would come with accepting the truth of the matter in the light of morning.

"We must do what? " Steve almost snarled at Marie. She looked back at him with an unflinching expression. Mike sat with them, his mouth set in a firm, thin line. He too glared at Marie, not believing what he was hearing.

"That bastard sent his assassins on two different killing missions to take us! He chased us all over the western United States and down the whole damned length of South America!" Steve protested. "And we are supposed to forget all that—and trust him? We must contact and cooperate with him?" Steve protested.

Marie sat quietly, sipped her room-service coffee and waited for Steve, and then Mike, to vent their outrage and disbelief. She knew they would eventually run out of protests and curses and indignation, and then there might be a chance for reason and explanation. It took a while, but eventually both men sat silent, brooding, and then cursed again when they realized that their coffee had gone cold.

"Damn it all to hell. Give me a minute to call room service and get some hot coffee up here. Then tell me again why the elders insist that we must expose ourselves like sacrificial lambs to this Russian bastard!" Steve grumbled.

Mike lay on his bed, alone in his room. Steve and Marie were in the next room, giving Mike privacy to make his personal connection with Dee'rah, his soul-mate.

"Michael-mine, it is my joy to see you. Are you well?"

"Yes, my love, very well. We are touring and seeing much of this amazing island that we call New Zealand. I have renewed many old friendships, and have found new friends since leaving your cold island. Steve and Marie have fallen so deeply in love they are now inseparable. She has also found much joy in the history and culture of the indigenous peoples here, but another time ... I will tell you of many things.

"Dee'rah, is your father, the leadership council of your people, aware of the search and capture mission being mounted against you from the sea surface?"

"They have been discussing the presence of a ship, and many smaller craft, and two hovering machines that have been seeking our swimmers. They believe this is the source of a submerged vessel that has been following along our swimmers' transit routes. Father was quite irritated that their clumsy vessel nearly caused its own destruction, and the death of its human occupants, by intruding where it had no reason to be."

"Dee'rah, they are attempting to discover the source, the entrance into your sanctuary. They will use that vessel—we call it a submersible undersea vehicle—to locate and enter your habitat, if they can. We have a warning that they will make that attempt today. It will take them several hours, our time units, to propel themselves under the ice to your location. They have cameras, devices that record what they see, and two crewmen who will report everything they discover. Dee'rah, I cannot begin to tell you what a possible danger this could be. Tell your father and the others that they must find some way to conceal, or obscure, or prevent this craft from discovering your undersea entrance."

"Of course, Michael. Please, do not worry. We have abilities. I will tell father of your warning, and your concern. Until dream time, my love, be well!"

"It's done. The warning is delivered. Dee'rah will tell her father, and he and the council of leaders will deal with it. She says, don't worry—we have abilities. I'm sure they do, but I'm sure as hell going to keep worrying. I don't think her people truly realize how ruthless some of us can be!"

Hahn and Keller stood at the railing overlooking the launch bay, watching the submersible sink below the surface of the gray, freezing water. Two volunteer crewmen, fortunately two of the most skilled operators, had come forward for the mission. Hahn reminded himself not to expect them back in less than nine hours, and no more than twelve. Travel time to the island was estimated at four hours, thirty minutes. They would have an absolute maximum of three hours to investigate and locate the traffic lane terminus. They'd be forced to break off and return to the ship, a trip of another four and a half hours.

Twelve hours, he thought. It will be twelve hours, or never at all. If they do not return, we'll likely never know what happened. How long will we wait, I wonder? How long before we give up hope?

Hahn shook himself back to reality. Don't go there; don't think those thoughts! They will come back with what we must know, and then we'll all have too damn much to do and too little time. It would be better if I worry about what we're going to do when they come back with more unbelievable video recordings!

Jon'na-ren stood with his peers, discussing for the first time ever in their experience how to handle a probable invasion of their sanctuary by human intruders.

"Perhaps if we shield the opening, block it with the repulsion field, so their craft cannot enter. Cover that with the diffuser, to obscure and scatter their vision and emission fields?" one suggested.

"Normally that is a sensible defense, but we have a difficult circumstance facing us. Their craft is absurdly deficient. It barely survives the environment they subject it too; the slightest thing will cause it to fail, and that would be catastrophic for its human occupants," Jon'na-ren cautioned.