Foreman’s voice cut into his thoughts. “If there is something like this in the center of the planet, what does it mean?”
“Diamonds are excellent conductors of heat,” Ahana said, “but poor conductors of electricity and become highly positively charged when exposed to electromagnetic forces. There is a conductive layer between this center crystal and the inner core that has a dynamo effect when combined with the Earth’s rotation, the magnetic field of the outer core, and the convection of plate tectonics. Since the core crystal will absorb the heat but not the electromagnetic forces being generated, there is a mind-boggling amount of energy there, just waiting to be exploited. This is the ultimate power the Shadow is now beginning to tap through Nazca.”
There were several moments of silence as each absorbed this summation, then it was Kolkov who broke the silence. “We are aware of the effects of the disasters that will happen because of the tectonic plate energy being drained by the Shadow. What will the effect of this inner core crystal being tapped?”
“I am not certain,” Ahana said. “I have been running several simulations on the computers. You do have to understand there are numerous variables and forces involved.”
Dane leaned forward toward the computer. “Your best guess. Worst case scenario,” he added.
“Worst case scenario is that the intrinsic structure of the planet becomes unstable,” Ahana said.
“Which means?” Dane asked.
“The planet will break apart. Earth will become the collection of fragments it was in the beginning.”
Dane summed it up. “So one way or the other — tectonics or core crystal — we’re doomed.”
“Unless we can stop the tap,” Ahana said.
“Which means we have the same problem,” Dane said, “which is we have to stop the portal the tap is running through.”
“And do you have a plan to do that?” Kolkov’s voice was harsh.
A long silence reigned.
“My government,” Kolkov continued, “is in the process of evacuating Moscow. There is little patience.”
“I think—” Dane began, but fell silent.
“What?” Foreman pressed.
Dane chose his words carefully. “The path we must follow is not clear but I know I must get Sin Fen’s skull and then the Naga staff. I haven’t been shown the step after that.”
“I can’t go to my superiors with that,” Kolkov said. “I am sorry.” The half of the screen he had been on went blank.
Amelia Earhart looked at the smooth skin on Fred Noonan’s chest and frowned. Even if he had survived the kraken — and enough time had passed for the wound to heal — there should still be some scarring. Her navigator’s condition was worsening and he had not regained consciousness.
She looked up and saw Taki watching her closely. She had explained Noonan’s message as clearly as she could to him and the samurai had made no comment. She’d found the lack of dialogue with the samurai to be disconcerting at first, but had quickly grown used to it.
She found it an ironic twist, given that a secondary mission of her around the world flight had been to spy on Japanese installations in the Pacific and forward that information to the US Navy. She had even learned a smattering of Japanese in preparation for the flight, which had stood her in good stead when she ran into the samurai here in the space-between. They had latched onto her as their new Lord and would do what she said, no questions asked.
“He will die.”
Earhart couldn’t tell if Taki’s words were a statement or question, but she nodded anyway. “Yes.”
“The Naga staff will not come to us. We must go to it.”
Earhart stood and signaled to Taki, circling her hand over her head and then pointing toward the center of the space-between. He nodded and yelled commands to his men. They gathered round as Earhart grabbed her sword. She paused, looking down on Noonan’s blistered face, then she set out.
They traveled through a low area between two ridges of black. Amelia Earhart had no idea how large the space-between was. There was the surrounding wall that curved out of sight overhead and once she had followed it one direction as long as she could, before having to head back to her base-camp for food. While on that journey she’d had the eerie sensation that the ground was extending in front of her and that she could go forever and never come back to her start point, even though her best guess was that she was traveling in a circle around the center lake.
The temperature was mild and unvarying, about sixty degrees Fahrenheit as near as she could guess. The air tainted with a distasteful odor that she couldn’t identify but one that despite all her time here she hadn’t quite gotten used to.
After several miles, Earhart raised her hand and her small band came to a halt. She got on her belly and edged her way up the slope to the right, ignoring the gritty sand that rubbed against her and slid into her flight suit. She moved more slowly as she reached the top and edged up enough to see over. They were near the lake that filled the center of the space-between.
The first thing she saw was a wide pillar of black that extended toward the roof far overhead — a portal. She slithered up further to get a better view. She could see the surface of the water- flat black, extending out as far as she could see. To the left and in the distance she could see another portal.
She scanned the shoreline. She sensed someone crawling up next to her and spared a glance. Taki, sword drawn, was at her side. She turned back to the shore.
She reached out and grabbed Taki’s shoulder, pointing with her other hand. “There.”
There were five limp forms scattered along the shore. Earhart began to stand when an abrupt jerk on her right arm pulled her down into the black sand. She turned angrily toward Taki, but the samurai’s focus was to the left. Earhart followed his gaze. A half-dozen white figures were floating above the black ground. Their faces were featureless except for ruby-red eyes.
Earhart bit down, grinding her teeth together, feeling the futility of her position. Five of the Valkyries scooped up bodies. The sixth stood by. With the bodies secured, the Valkyries began heading back the way they had come. The sixth followed, then paused. It turned, facing the ridge behind which Earhart hid. She stopped breathing. She heard a sharp intake of breath from Taki and it was her turn to grab his arm, keeping him from doing something foolish.
After several minutes, which seemed like hours, the Valkyrie finally turned and followed its mates, sliding along the beach. Earhart watched until it disappeared. Then she stood.
“Come,” she said to Taki as she headed down the slope in pursuit. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Taki and the rest of his samurai following.
Since its launch in 1986, Mir has circled the planet over 85,000 times. Astronauts from dozens of nations have lived and worked in the station. Since the end of the Cold War eleven American shuttle missions had rendezvoused with the space station. Both NASA and the Russian Space Agency had touted the station as a sign of international cooperation. It was all a lie.
Launched while Ronald Reagan was still President, Mir had been Moscow’s reply to Star Wars. If Reagan wanted to throw down the gauntlet and develop space weapons, Moscow, in its basic working class way, had picked up the challenge. Heavy boosters rockets lifted the components of Mir into space and hardy cosmonauts bolted them together, including a section that contained a half-dozen multiple warhead nuclear rockets.