“Sadim?”
“The man behind what I suspect you’re after. The man I’ve been fronting for. It’s what I do, old chap. Front for other people. Got no identity of my own I care to talk about much. Used to, though.” Clive refilled his glass and held it up to the booth’s dim light in order to stare at the brownish liquid reflectively. “A college professor, would you believe it? Specializing in artifacts and gems. Did favors for people, appraisals. Lost my job teaching and went into it full-time. Began fronting for people who didn’t want their identities made public. Lost my identity in theirs. It worked for a while.”
“But not anymore.”
“Maybe the cancer started it, I’m not sure. I tell you, you look back on your life at my age it’d be nice to be able to take something out. Me, well, all the withdrawals been made already.” He started on his second glass and gazed warmly across the table. “You’re an easy man to talk to. Hell of a tiling, since I gotta figure you got your own problems.” Clive took three more hefty sips. “Along with a pretty good notion of what brought you here. It’s in your eyes, old boy, the uncertainty. And the fear.”
“Atragon,” Blaine muttered.
“Sorry, didn’t get that.”
“Atragon. The name given to certain crystals with inexplicable powers and properties.”
Clive nodded. “You reached me through the same channels as the others. They’ve been inactive for months now. But this is my ‘post’ as they say and I decided to see you for curiosity’s sake, knowing the kind of man you’d be. These crystals have changed you, that much I can tell.”
Blaine started to speak, then stopped.
Clive’s whiskey-stained voice turned distant. “Can’t deny it, can you? Everyone who comes into contact with the crystals says the same thing. There’s death in them, has been ever since they were discovered. Everyone who’s ever gotten close has died.”
McCracken thought of T.C., and his stare was telling.
“Been that way for thousands of years, old chap.”
“I didn’t come here to learn about curses, Professor, and if you really want to help me, you’d—”
“I didn’t come here to teach you about them. But I’d be selling you short if I didn’t try to persuade you to abandon whatever quest you’re on.”
“It’s too late for that,” Blaine said almost bitterly. “There’s a madman out there, and these crystals might be the only way to stop him.”
Clive nodded knowingly, the glass an extension of his hand now. “It always seems to come down to that. History runs in circles, and the circles keep repeating.” His eyes sharpened. “The crystals aren’t your answer. Stay away from them.”
“I’ve already seen what they are. I had a sample in my possession until a few days ago. They’re just stones.”
“You don’t believe that. I can tell by your voice. You’re too damned sensitive to be so naive. You looked at those crystals and felt something. I can bloody well tell.”
“Where can I find the reserves, Professor? Tell me that, and I’ll leave you to your misery.”
“It’s not that simple!” Clive blared, nearly spilling his whiskey. “For thousands of years they lay hidden until seismic changes brought them closer to the surface where once again they promised destruction. An entire civilization has already perished from the abuse of the power they hold. Don’t you know that?”
“If you’re talking about Atlantis, I don’t buy it. Myths have nothing to do with what I’m after.”
“They have everything to do with it, old boy.”
“Professor—”
“Just listen,” Clive said rapidly. “Hear me out. What harm can it do you?” He leaned forward and let the glass of whiskey go. “The people of Atlantis harnessed the power of what they referred to as a ‘firestone’. They found that when angled properly in relation to the sun, the stone could harness the sun’s rays and redirect them as a source of incredible energy. The closest thing we have to this process is the laser beam, but in Atlantis they harnessed the power totally. You called the crystal Atragon.”
“Yes, dark red crystals with many ridges — no one section totally symmetrical with another.”
“Yes! And each individual section, dozens on each crystal, is its own reflector. Sunlight channeled through the various chambers of these crystals created an energy source which powered the civilization of Atlantis through domed buildings which served as massive solar receptors. The amount of energy created, stored, was immeasurable.”
“I said I don’t believe in all this—”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe. Just listen; you’ve got to,” Clive pleaded. “The people of Atlantis attained technological heights even we have yet to achieve. But something went wrong. The power of the great crystals you call Atragon was abused. Whether this was intentional or not is not definitely known. It was probably unintentional at first, the reserves overloaded which led to a tragedy. But then the potential of Atragon as a weapon was revealed. Factionalization resulted. Various parties in Atlantis struggled desperately for control of the crystals which alone could assure their unhindered rise to power. The fanatics got hold of them first. Fanatics got hold of the crystals and brought about the destruction of the entire society.”
“And sank the continent into the Atlantic, right?”
“It would not be beyond the power of the crystals. You’ve seen them. You know it as well as I do.”
“What I know has nothing to do with imaginary continents sinking into the ocean. And nothing to do with miraculous reappearances.”
“There was nothing miraculous about it, as I said. Seismic changes occurred. Atlantis, parts of it anyway, became accessible once more. The crystals emerged unhindered by the passage of time, prepared to cause destruction yet again.”
“Or prevent it in this case.” McCracken leaned over the table. “Those crystals, Professor, may be the only thing that can prevent a cataclysm just as bad and maybe worse than Atlantis sinking into the sea. They’ve already cost the life of a woman I loved, and unless I find them she’ll have died for nothing. So I really don’t care if they came from the black depths or some kid’s marble collection, I’ve got to find them and you’re the only one who can help me.”
“I’m not a fool, old boy,” Clive said softly as he poured the rest of his flask into his glass. “Listening to my ravings might lead you to believe I am, but the title of professor is real. I studied gems and their origins for years. My theories about Atlantis are based in fact.”
“The reserves of the crystal, Professor, where can I find them?”
Clive sipped his whiskey and then squeezed both hands around the rim. “I only know the general area: an island in the Bimini chain off the coast of Florida.”
“Which one?”
“None you’ve ever heard of.”
“You just said that—”
“I know what I said, but it isn’t quite that simple. There’s an island in the Biminis with no name. None of the natives ever talk about it, and tourists are steered cleverly away. There’s a graveyard of ships off its coast. Plenty of vacationers and treasure hunters have disappeared after venturing too close.”
“First Atlantis and now the Bermuda Triangle …”
“No, old boy, this time it’s a sea monster.”
“A what?” McCracken asked incredulously.
“The natives who talk at all call it Dragon Fish. Legend has it that the Dragon Fish protected the island’s shores from pirates centuries ago and apparently hasn’t lost its appetite yet. True or not, the legend’s done wonders at keeping all curious parties away.”