World without end. 

by

Molly cochran and Warren Murphy
book one


chapter 1


THE SHIVERS.
Sam Smith felt them as soon as he saw the broken piece of pottery lying
on the beach. Shivers, bone-wracking tremors that ran the whole length of
his body and then settled somewhere inside his brain. They had nothing
to do with cold, not these shivers. These were more like a second pair of
eyes. Eyes he could never close.
They were what recognized the pottery shard. The shivers.
The piece wasn't much: a clay handle attached to a piece of curved
earthenware, perhaps three inches square. It probably had once been a
common pitcher in a common household barely noticeable among the
litter that the sea had cast onto the shore.
There had been some unusual seismic activity in the waters off the south 
eastern coast of Florida for the past two weeks, and the beach near Key
Biscayne reflected it with nightmarish piles of weird debris, from rotting
octopus carcasses to boulders weighing a ton or more. The beach combers,
who were out in force with their sifters and metal detectors, had not given
the object a second glance.
But Sam could not walk past it. The shivers would not allow him.
He picked up the shard to examine it, and immediately felt the blood
jump in his veins. His head felt as if it were exploding. Steadying his hands,
he studied the small fragment. The faint trace of painting still visible beneath
the cracked glaze was a simple design, a cross inscribed by a blue circle,
repeated several times in a row.
It was old. Very, very old. The shivers saw that.
 Well, what do you know," Sam said aloud. The piece might be Greek,
or even Mycenean ships carrying all sorts of booty had sunk in these
waters.
And then he heard music. Rather, he felt it, seeping out of the shard into
his hands. It was as glorious as the sea itself, that music, a siren's song that
called to him like a lover.
He had heard it all his life, in bits and snatches, always just out of the
range of real hearing, just enough to let Sam know the song was for him
and him alone                                                     
Come to me, Sam
He closed his eyes.
My love, I have waited so long. . . .
When he opened them again, he was standing nearly knee-deep in the
filthy water, facing a vast expanse of ocean.
 Oh, God," he whispered, backing up in panic.
He smacked into one of the beach combers, apologized, then started to
run down the shore.
Sam . . .
He thrust the shard into his pocket, and the voice faded. Ahead was a
salvage boat with the name STYX painted on its prow. A flood of relief washed
over him. Back on deck, he would be all right. He would be safe from his
own craziness.
Maybe.
The shivers were still on him. He stopped to rest for a moment, his hands
on his knees, his breath coming ragged. He turned his head toward the spot
where he had walked into the surf in some sort of insane trance.
He had been facing southeast, where the Peaks were.
Where the devil lived.
Sam jogged toward the boat and willed his mind away from the sea.
Darian McCabe was pacing on deck a sure sign that his negotiations with
a prospective client had not gone well. The old man was in a foul mood.
 Cast off those lines and let's get the hell out of here," he growled.
It was a half hour before Darian calmed down enough to hold a conversation. Sam brought the piece of pottery out of his pocket and showed it to
him. McCabe was standing behind the helm, his wary eyes scanning the
horizon.
 What's that?"
 I found it on the beach," Sam said.
 Christian, whatever it is," Darian had said, uninterested.  All those
crosses. Probably Spanish." He raised his arm to toss the shard overboard.
 Junk."
Sam snatched it out of his hands.  Don't," he said.  I think it's old." His
teeth began to chatter.
Darian snorted.  You think everything made before nineteen fifty is old."
 Older than Christian Spain." The shivers were bad now. Sam felt as if a
cold wind were blowing through him.  I want to take it to the Ocean ographic
museum to have it dated."
The old man shrugged.  Do what you want. Now go coil some rope."
An hour later, Sam heard the music again.
The same music, he thought.  always the same. Shuddering, he went
below into the galley of the fifty-foot salvage craft. At the small mess table,
he sat down and pulled the piece of pottery out of his pocket to look at it.
Through the old porcelain, his siren called to him.
Come closer, it seemed to say. Oh, yes. If he could just get close enough


to hear it, hear it with his ears and not with whatever peculiar sense was
perceiving it, he might . . .
Might what?
He knew what Darian would say if he knew. Might just follow that music
down to where the devil lives, isn't that right, Sam? Fling yourself headfirst
into the ocean and sink like a stone. . . .
 What the hell are you doing down here?" the old man shouted from the
companionway.
 Nothing," Sam called, shoving the pottery shard inside his pocket.
 Then quit wasting time and boil up some water. I could use a cup of
coffee."
 Sure, Darian."
He was glad to busy himself at the hotplate, even though his hands
were shaking so badly he could barely pour the water. Every time Darian
maneuvered the Styx through this area, the shivers came on him, but they'd
never been as bad as they were today.
 Jesus Christ," the old man said, swiping at the spilled coffee as he picked
up his mug.  You got a hangover?"
 No. Just a headache, that's all."
 Headache. Like you always get when we pass over the Peaks. You cold?"
 A little," Sam said. He joined the old man at the table.
 Hell, it's eighty-five degrees. You're shaking like a leaf."
 I'll be all right."
Darian slurped his coffee.  Coast Guard's out."
 Yeah? Where?"
"  Bout a mile due east. Just seen them topside, coming in."
 What were they doing?"
McCabe shrugged.  Probably charting the bottom after those tremors
we've had. Seaquakes can cause some big changes. Deep water fills up with
silt, kills all the fish. Shallow waters suddenly turn too deep to dive."
Sam looked up.  I thought there weren't any shallows in the Peaks."
 There's some of everything in these waters," the old man said.  That's
why it can't be dived."
All the sailors" kids had grown up on cautionary tales about sea monsters
and ghosts. The old salts who hung around Eddie's Grill took pride in sailing
the area which the general public had designated as the most dangerous
stretch of ocean on the planet. They sailed it, but despite all the legends
of gold and sunken booty, they never dived the Peaks. When asked why
they were afraid of a patch of water, the old-timers would only wink and
say they knew where the devil lived.
 I think it could be dived."
Darian's eyes narrowed.  Now, we're not going to talk about this again,"
he said.
Sam had been begging to dive the Peaks since the first time Darian had
taken him over the area on board the Styx. At first Darian had laughed off
Sam's pleas as the whim of a daredevil child, but over the years, they had
become a real annoyance.
 You want to get yourself killed, find some other way."
 I'd stay in the shallows."


Darian waved him away.
 You said yourself there were shallows."
 Aye. That's where the shark come to feed."
Sam swallowed.  It's just that  ." Unconsciously, he wrapped his fingers
around the pottery shard in his pocket.  There's something down there."
Darian leaned back on his bench.  Such as?"
 Well . . ." He considered telling the old man the truth, then immediately
discarded the idea. People who heard voices coming from the ocean ended
up in rubber rooms. Suddenly an idea blossomed in Sam's brain.  Treasure,"
he said, smiling.
Darian laughed.  You sound like a tourist. Whatever's down in there's
buried too deep to find without a bulldozer."
 Most of the time, yes," Sam went on excitedly.  But these tremors have
shaken up the sea floor, just like you said. Things that have been buried
for hundreds of years might be lying right on the surface now. And it isn't
going to last long. In another week, it'll all be covered again."
Darian took another drink of his coffee, grimaced, and stood up with a
stretch.  Damn. And I was hoping to buy a mountain in Peru."
 I'm serious, Darian."
 I know you are." There was a quiet threat in his voice.  We make a
living finding salvage. We don't need no treasure. Forget about diving the
Peaks."
But Sam would not forget. The shivers wouldn't let him.
As he had grown up, he had heard other people refer to the shivers in
other ways : second sight. Telepathy. Clairvoyance. The Magic Eye. To Sam,
they had been only one thing a curse laid on him at birth.
He could not remember a time in his life when he had been free of them,
where there had not come an unbidden moment when a sudden premonition
had suffused his body and caused it to shudder uncontrollably. When he
was seven years old, the shivers had alerted him that something terrible
was about to happen to the orphanage in Pittsburgh where he'd lived since
infancy. He had run screaming to the housemother, and the place had been
evacuated in time although not until a column of smoke billowed up the
east stairwell. When it was all over, Sam had been blamed for setting the
fire that he had only foreseen.
In the navy, where he was assigned to an underwater demolition team
in the Persian Gulf, he had known that the mine one of his shipmates was
arming was going to detonate. And it did, a split second after the knowledge
came to Sam. There had been no time to save the other young sailor, whose
remains had been so scattered that there had been nothing to send home
to his family.
He had known, he had known, he had known. A thousand times in his
life, the shivers had come upon Sam with terrifying urgency, and not once
had they brought him the smallest measure of happiness.
But they had brought him to the sea. He had first felt the ocean's pull
in the orphanage, where its salt kiss had awakened him in his bunk and
brought him south, a runaway kid with no home and no name except for


the institutional  Smith" which the authorities had assigned to him. The
shivers had brought him over a thousand miles alone, with no real destination except for the constant singing of the sea growing louder with each
step.
They had brought him to a pier in Jupiter Inlet, Florida, and to Darian
McCabe. Darian hadn't wanted him, but Sam had known the old man 
who had seemed old even then would take him in.
Sam had begun as a hand on the Styx. Darian lived on the boat, then as
now, and paid the boy with food and a bunk, and then clothes and a more
than decent education at Maggie Waylan's school for the children of sailors.
Even after Sam had reluctantly told about his past, Darian had not forced
him back to the orphanage in Pittsburgh.
 Ain't going to find anybody works cheaper'n you," the old man had
said when he gave Sam an old child-sized captain's hat.  And anyway, I
expect you'll be moving on when you're of an age."
But Sam hadn't moved on. Darian was the only family he had ever known,
and he had no place else to go. At twenty-nine, he still lived on the Styx,
and in the past eight years since his return from the navy, Darian had made
him a full partner in his salvage business. Sam's shivers had located six
wrecks off the Florida coast.
Six they could get to, that is. There had been dozens of others, but all
of them in waters too deep to chance. Darian was reckless enough to try
an occasional salvage operation on an undocumented site, as long as it
didn't cost too much, but he was not going to risk his life, or Sam's, in
waters they weren't equipped to dive. Especially around the Peaks.
 You want to dive them waters, you get yourself a submarine first,"
Darian had once told Sam.  That and a prayerbook. I've known too many
men who sailed into the Peaks and never came back. Real sailors, too, mind
you, not them pansies with their silver cigarette boats."
Darian McCabe knew where the devil lived.
Sam took the pottery shard out of his pocket. The siren's voice poured
through his body like warm wine.
She lived there, too, he knew. She called him from the Peaks.
You belong here, She sang. You belong with me here.
And though Sam tried with all his will not to listen, he heard Her.
By the time they reached their base at Jupiter Inlet, it was nearly dusk.
 Whole day shot to hell for nothing," Darian grumbled as he docked the
Styx near Eddie's Grill, a fixture of the waterfront for the past fifty years.
Sam tied off, then joined him on the rickety wooden pier.  Buy you a
beer?" he offered.
The old man grunted in reply and led the way to Eddie's.
Since it was summer, the tables were packed with tourists, but the bar
was unchanged. The seamen who occupied the same stools every day of
the year made room for Darian and Sam at the bar.
 You get that job?" a grizzled old-timer named Figg shouted to Darian
from the far corner, a spot he had occupied for as long as Sam could
remember.
 Mind your own business," Darian answered.
 Probably wanted a real sailor," Figg said and turned for approval to the
group of excursion boat tourists seated at a nearby cluster of tables. His
sailing days long behind him, Figg was glad to serve as local color for
vacationers, as long as they bought the drinks.
 Hear the Coast Guard's out," he yelled.
 Aye."
 Looking for where the tremors started?"
 You want to know what the Coast Guard's doing, call the Coast Guard,"
Darian groused.
Figg was unfazed.  Happened once before, twenty-nine years ago," the
old sailor said, slogging down the remains of what obviously had not been
his first beer.  Seaquakes just like these here we've had the past couple of
weeks. The whole bottom shifted. Hot springs started shooting into the
waters. All the coldwater fish disappeared. Only thing it was good for was
treasure hunters," he said with a wink.  Things what was buried under
twenty feet of silt got pushed up like they was dropped overboard yesterday.
Gold just a-laying there for the taking."
Sam looked tellingly at Darian.
 Here we go again," McCabe muttered.
Figg ordered another beer. He was drunk now, and loved having an
audience of young people who hung on every word about what they consid 
ered to be the antediluvian past.
 Did anybody ever find treasure there?" one of the men in the group
asked.
 Well   ." Figg took his time rolling a cigarette and spitting out bits of
tobacco as he lit it.  Fella from up north made a dive in the Peaks. Ever
hear of them?"
 That's in the Bermuda Triangle, isn't it?" a pretty blonde woman asked.
 That it is," Figg said.  Ain't nobody ever dives the Peaks and comes
back up again. Except this one fella, he did. And when he come up, he said
he seen a cave glowing with light."
 Glowing?"
 That's what the man said. Guess he figured there'd be a pile of loot in
there. Drove all night, and come back the next day with a helper and a
truckload of special equipment cameras, high-powered lights, underwater
sleds, you name it." Figg took a swig of his latest beer.
 And?" the young man asked impatiently.  Did he bring anything up?"
Figg wheezed out a laugh.  Sharks ate him before he had the chance.
His helper, too. Found an arm myself, up the shore a ways."
The old-timers at the bar exchanged smiles as the tourists recoiled in
horror.
 Oh, that was a spooky time all around, that was, what with the cold
water turning hot and the bottom of the sea flipping inside out like it did,"
Figg went on in the full glory of reminiscence.  Brought out all the kooks
and hippies and what have you. There was even a bunch of them crowded
onto one of the small islands out near the Peaks. God only knows what
they was doing there."


The bartender glanced at Darian McCabe, whose face had suddenly grown
ashen, and made a gesture for Figg to quiet down.
Figg paid no attention.  Anyhow, the whole damn place blowed up. Boat
ran aground or something, engine caught fire."
 Get you a drink, Figg?" the bartender shouted the length of the bar.
 Damn thing exploded right in their faces. Every one of them killed."
The bartender walked toward Figg. Darian's hand was covering his face.
His fingers were trembling.
 Let's go," Sam whispered to him.
 Like flies in a trap, they was. . . ." The bartender had finally reached
Figg, placed a hamlike hand on his shoulder, and spoke to him. Figg looked
up, followed the bartender's gaze toward Darian's stool, then cleared his
throat in embarrassment.
 I'm sorry, McCabe. Didn't know you was still . . ."
Darian got up and lumbered from the bar.
Sam knew better than to follow him.
He had learned about the accident from some of the old sailors. Twenty 
nine years ago, a tourist in a rented powerboat ran over some shoals near
a small private island. The boat spun into the air and crashed into a building
where, as it happened, thirteen people were gathered around a dining table.
The driver was killed on impact. Most of the thirteen died a few seconds
later, when the boat's engine exploded.
Darian McCabe's wife and their twelve-year-old son were among the
dead.
He never mentioned it. There was a faded photograph on the spartan
bureau in the old man's bunkroom showing a much younger McCabe with
a pretty woman and a small boy. The photo had been there all seventeen
years Sam had lived and worked with him, but Darian had never once
spoken a word about his lost family.
Sam was born in the same year Darian's son died. When he'd first come
to Florida as a runaway, he'd been twelve years old the same age the boy
in the photograph had been when he was killed. What must it have been like,
Sam had often wondered, for Darian to see another kid on his doorstep a
kid the same age as the son he'd lost? It was no wonder the old man had
always been so protective of Sam, although McCabe would never admit to
that.
He waited for an hour at Eddie's, then walked back to the Styx. Darian
wasn't on board. He'd probably gone to another bar farther down the shore,
Sam reasoned. Some place where the old-timers didn't hang out.
The moon was full. Its light made the choppy waves below look like
golden shingles. In the distance, far out to sea, loomed the dim shapes of
the small islands near the Peaks. Sam took the weatherworn piece of pottery
out of his pocket and held it to his chest.
Its music Her music rose up in him again, and his breath caught with
the beauty of it. Come to me, Sam . . . Sam . . .
 Who are you?" he whispered.
You will know me when we meet.
 Are you . . . are you the devil?"
No, Sam. I am your past and your future. And I will love you forever.
But you must come. Soon, Sam. Now.
The music was driving him mad.  I'll come to you," he said.
Then he heard the heavy tread of Darian's footfalls on deck. He turned
to see the old man swaying slightly as he walked toward the bridge.  What
are you gaping at?" Darian growled.
 I'm not "
 Well, quit standing around like a fool. Polish the metalwork or some 
thing."
Sam licked his dry lips.  Darian, I've got to make that dive," he said
quietly.
 Dive?" Darian looked confused for a moment, and then his face set into
a mask of stony rage.  You talking about the Peaks again?"
 Yes," Sam said.
 I told you, we're not treasure hunters."
 It's not about treasure. It's about my sanity." He looked at the shard in
his hand.  Something's happening to me that I don't understand. I can't
seem to get the Peaks out of my mind. It's as if something's . . . waiting for
me there."
 That's bullshit." Darian spat over the rail.  Ain't nothing down there
but sharks and bad water."
 Maybe. I hope you're right. But I've got to find that out for myself."
 Got to find that out for myself," Darian mimicked.  Since when do you
make the decisions around here?"
 Darian, I've always tried to listen to you, and I know you're thinking
of my safety "
 I'm thinking you're an ungrateful fool I should have sent back to the
orphanage."
Sam closed his eyes.  I'm just trying to tell you "
 You don't need to tell me nothing! This is my boat, and I give the orders
around here."
 Don't you understand?" Sam shouted.  I need to see that there's nothing
there, so I can stop going crazy!" He pushed back his hair in a gesture of
desperation.  Darian, please listen to me. If I don't make this dive, I don't
know what's going to happen to me."
 I'll tell you what's going to happen. You'll get to work, and put this
foolishness behind you." He picked up a rag and tossed it at Sam.  I want
the metalwork done by morning," he said as he turned away.
Sam exhaled slowly. He had finally told the old man the truth, and it had
meant nothing to him.  If you won't help me, I'll go alone," he said.
Darian wheeled around, his face twisted with anger. He grabbed Sam by
his shirt and shoved him across the deck. Sam tripped over a coil of thick
hawser line and fell sprawling on his back.  You won't dive the Peaks, do
you hear me?" he screamed. His hands were closed into fists and his face
was trembling with his rage.  Disobey me and you'll not be welcome on
this boat."
He stared down at Sam for a moment, then stormed off the boat onto
the dock and walked away.


Slowly Sam got to his knees.
The pottery shard was still in his hand.
Come, Sam. Come to me now.
He opened his palm, then closed it into a fist. He wanted to throw it
away, pretend he'd never seen it.
But he knew he wouldn't do that. Not to Her.
For Her, he would disobey Darian, defy his own common sense, lose his
job, his home, his friend, and perhaps his life.
He would follow Her song into the sea.
Sam stood up, clutching his stomach. The shivers were stabbing at his
guts like knives. They would only stop, he knew, when he reached the
Peaks.
chapter 2.

SAM SHIVERED.
He could not see them, but he knew he had reached the Peaks or what
was left of them after the seaquakes.
His teeth banged against his mouthpiece like jackhammers. They were
nearly uncontrollable now, the shivers that made his hands shake and threat 
ened to turn his muscles to stone. He looked at the depth gauge on his
wrist, its dim light only barely visible in the dark water.
Fifty feet. Only fifty feet deep. Waters off the Caribbean weren't supposed
to be this dark at fifty feet.
Dark as a tomb.
Okay, damn it, I'm here, he thought.
Somewhere above him was Tom Abbott's new Azimut, which Sam had
borrowed and driven at top speed for an hour to reach the spot where he
thought his heart would burst from his body. He had made the dive at night,
without a dry suit or an air hose or anyone topside to help him in case he
got into trouble. . . .
All for nothing. There was no ghost woman here, no siren calling his
name.
No sunken ship filled with treasure. No sea monsters. Nothing waiting
for him in the Peaks.
Just as Darian had said.
Still, the shivers were bad here.
Fighting to stay loose enough to move, Sam swiveled his light around.
It was a tough plastic Brite-Lite that cast a hundred thousand watts enough
to throw a beam down several city blocks on land. Yet here, where the
blackness of the sea was almost tangible, the light produced only a dim
circle on the eerie rock formations a few dozen feet away.
Staying near some underground cliffs, he swam farther from the Azimut's
anchor line. Around him, thousands of fish were making their nightly pilgrimage upward to feed. All around him were the creatures from the twilight
zone of the deep finger-long lamp tails, hatchet fish with iridescent bellies,
shrimp of enormous size which blended in with the black water but, when
caught in the beam of Sam's mercury light, shone a brilliant scarlet. Orange 


jawed whale fish pursued by tiny dagger-toothed monsters with binocular
eyes rose past his face mask. A violet squid troubled by his presence shot
out a puff of light blue ink to blind its enemies whose vision was accustomed
to the profound darkness.
Beyond the fish, the dim circle from Sam's flashlight seemed to vanish
from time to time as it fell on openings of pure blackness that sucked up
the light.
Briefly he saw a faint luminescence inside the blackness. As three electric
eels shot out into the light, he realized that the black holes were caves. The
rock structure at the bottom of this part of the ocean was honeycombed
with underwater caverns.
He realized, too, that he was alone. The sea life which had teemed around
him moments before had suddenly vanished. Shark? he thought, swing 
ing his light in a circle around him. No. There was no predator here. And
yet . . .
Suddenly he felt flushed. If he had been on land, he knew, sweat would
have been pouring off his body. He could not move. The shivers held him
utterly, like a butterfly pinned to a wall, his legs dangling, the mercury
vapor light held rigid in his hand as the water seemed to swell and grow
around him.
Something's coming, he thought, panicking.
A moment later, it hit. An underwater wave, like a gigantic fist, hurled
him far beyond the caves. The flashlight flew out of Sam's hand and bobbed
on its lanyard, thumping against his thighs as he tumbled end over end like
a toy. Somewhere, not far away, came a groan and a deep thump.
Hearing his own bubbles chuffing past his ears with each frenzied breath,
he fumbled for the light and raised it until he saw a massive cloud of mud
billowing toward him. It enveloped him quickly, blotting out the flashlight's
circular beam. It was all darkness now. Sam could do nothing but hover
blindly until the mud began to clear.
Seaquake. That's what it had been, Sam had no doubt. He'd been caught
in the middle of one of the undersea tremors that had been plaguing the
area for weeks.
He had no idea which direction he should take to reach the boat. Even
the dial of his compass was invisible now.
Well, he thought philosophically, he'd just have to stay where he was
until the water cleared.
He hadn't even thought about his air supply.
Now, crouching on the sea floor, Sam sighed in exasperation and immediately regretted it. He had been down too long to waste air. According to
his best guess, he had another twenty minutes at the most, and that included
time for his ascent. Another tricky matter. If he ran out of air on the way
up, he would have to surface fast a certain prescription for the bends.
The bends could kill you. Or, if you were lucky, they might only cripple
you for life.
Fortunately, the murk from the tremor was beginning to clear. In the


light of his flashlight, Sam was able to make out the pocked surface of a
wall of coral.
A reef, he thought, but as his hands moved along the rough expanse, he
could feel its precise curve. He followed it for nearly forty feet. It was a
gigantic cylinder of some sort, lying on its side on the ocean floor.
His heart beat faster. Nothing in nature held this particular shape.
Sam took the small knife he kept strapped to his leg and chipped away
at the encrusted mass until the blade resonated with the ping of metal hitting
metal.
He swam along to the end of the cylindrical structure. It was at least a
hundred feet long. For a foot of coral to grow around it, the thing must
have been in the water for hundreds of years, maybe thousands. What was
it? An undersea cable? A pipe? Made of metal?
Then, through the clearing silt, he saw the dim outline of another structure, identical to the one to which he was clinging. But this tower was still
standing, reaching up from the ocean floor toward the dark night sky.
Sam swam slowly toward it. The towers, or whatever they were, must
have been buried under God knew how much mud before they were thrust
to the surface during the seaquake. The mudstorm probably had been caused
by the fallen cylinder when it keeled over and thumped onto the ocean
floor.
The water here seemed oddly bright. He switched off his torch. No, it
wasn't his imagination. The whole area between the towers was light, as
light as it might be at twenty feet during daylight hours. As Sam neared the
standing tower, he saw that it was resting on a plateau of rock no more
than sixteen feet square. Around the plateau was nothing but water going
down so far that, despite the strange brightness around the column, the
light from Sam's flashlight could not penetrate to the bottom.
He had heard about these. The old timers sometimes talked about the
valleys nestled near the Peaks chasms of incalculable depth, from which
even light could not return. He always had dismissed their existence along
with most of the sailors" lore, but he was seeing one of the valleys with his
own eyes.
Then he spotted something draped over the base of the column, some 
thing shiny that made him forget all about the topography of the ocean
floor.
He blinked uncertainly, drawing nearer to it. The object looked as if it
were on display in a store window: a chain of some thirty gold links, more
than an inch long apiece, perfect and uncorroded. As Sam dived for it, the
fine silt which already had begun to settle on it floated away.
And then he heard music.
He laughed aloud with happiness, sending up a burst of air bubbles
around his head. It was Hers, the sea siren's, and she was making him a
gift of it.
Take this, my wandering lover, come home
He swam toward it, feeling the shudder in his belly turn to heat. His hand
reached for it, trembling. He touched it. Inside his mask, tears came to his
eyes.
Touch me, yes, take me


He picked it up. Dangling from the chain was a four-inch-long crystal,
opaque with salty deposits. As Sam rubbed his thumb and forefinger along
the faceted sides, it began to glow with a greenish light. His fist opened
reflexively and the chain spilled out between his fingers. He dived for it,
clutching the mercury light with one hand, grasping at the empty water
with the other as the chain sank down, down, over the cliff of rock where
the pillar stood, into the green warmth of the dark deep beyond.
Come to me, yes, yes, Sam, closer, yes
He dived after it.
Soon the pressure of the water was squeezing him, making his lungs
labor with each breath. He caught sight of his questing hand in front of
him. The fingers on it seemed to elongate into writhing blue eels.
He blinked hard, swallowed. His breathing was ragged. In front of him,
a dozen images materialized at once: the kid with him on demo duty in the
navy, looking like a burst balloon when the mine exploded and blew him
to pieces; the headmistress of the orphanage in Pittsburgh, her features
pointed like blades. There were others, Darian, others he didn't know.
Through the twisted, caricatured faces he dove deeper, deeper, down to
where the water seemed almost scalding and the light was as brilliant as
emeralds.
Then he swooped down and caught the chain in his cupped hands, all
the while making a sound in his throat like a man in the act of love.
Go up. Got to go up now.
Sam's air supply was low, and diminishing with frightening speed at this
new depth. Panting, his breath sounding like the gasps of a dying man, he
looped the gold chain around his belt.
On an outcropping of rock, a mass of blind shrimp wriggled like maggots
on a corpse. Past them, where the superheated water met the cold, an
intense green light shimmered like a desert mirage before the blackness
beyond.
Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . .
The light emanated from a cave with a mouth more than four feet across.
But it had been so dark here, Sam thought. He looked upward, to where
the column of coral-encrusted metal must be standing. There was nothing
above him except blackness.
For a moment Sam hung motionless in the water, every muscle in his
body rigid.
He heard music.
My lover
My lover
The song surged to life. It was no longer the half-remembered, teasing
melody which had brought him to the Peaks. It was clear and wonderful,
music that coursed through his blood like a drug, music that he could see
as well as hear, music he could touch with his hands and that touched him
back, on his lips, his eyes, hard in his loins and through his soul.
It was coming now from the mouth of the black cave.
Not far now, Sam, come to me, come to me


Still gasping, his movements a supreme effort against the crushing pressure of the deep, he swam, entranced, toward the cave. The music grew
louder, the light brighter, inviting him, drawing him nearer until he passed
through the cave mouth and instantly found himself in the middle of an
underwater garden of fantastic beauty.
It was semicircular in shape, the calm warm water wafting lazily over
what looked like flowers. Sam touched the strange vegetation, red-petaled
blossoms on slim stalks, fernlike plants with lacy fronds that curled and
opened with the movement of the waves. At his feet were pebbles of soft
pastel colors. He felt as if he were inside an oyster shell, pearly and irides 
cent.
Against the far wall of the cave stood a block of stone nearly five feet
high and six inches thick, furry with algae and encrusted with lichen.
As he swept his hand over its surface, the algae flew off in blindingly
bright sparks. Sam followed them with his eyes as the tiny dots of light
danced out of the cave. They're what's generating the light, he thought.
But when he turned back, the stone itself was glowing.
And on it, where the algae had been, was an image of a rocky shoreline.
He fell back. What was he seeing? How was he looking at land, standing
as he was on the bottom of the ocean?
In the distance, around the bend of the shore he was observing, were
dozens of large ships, enormous wooden-hulled vessels with square sails.
At the very center of the horizon was a mountain flanked by two pyramids.
Pyramids! Get it together, now, Sam, he told himself.
In his excitement he had momentarily forgotten about the pressure in
his chest, but he felt it now. He was in too deep. The sea was playing tricks
with his mind.
Take a dozen of Figg's tall tales and let your air run out, and suddenly
you've got an underwater TV screen to veg out on till you start sucking
seawater.
There were people on the shore. They were dressed strangely in rough
draped cloth. A man whose shoulders were hooded in a wolf skin, complete
with the animal's head, came into Sam's vision and walked out of it again.
Get out, you dumb shit! Can't you see you're going to die down here!
He was answered by another voice, soft as velvet. Her voice.
Stay with me, Sam, stay with me.
Sam paused in the cave mouth.
Oh, Jesus, he thought. What's happening to me!
He looked at his air gauge. It read 15O feet. He had no air for such a
dive.
In the scene playing before him, the people on the shore fell to the
ground. One woman lifted a child and hugged it to her breast. The Earth
began to shiver and tremble.
Sam trembled with it. He could hear the shrieks of women as a chasm
opened in the earth. Some distance away, another line crazed across the
landscape, and steam hissed skyward while the ground quaked and roiled.
Then the mountain at the far horizon erupted. The sky turned black,
raining rock, capsizing the huge ships in the harbor. Lava streamed out of


the shuddering volcano, glowing red as the ground opened a new jagged
mouth to drink it.
Through the ash-blackened air, Sam could make out the figure of a man
standing at the rim of the volcano, raising his arms skyward as the heat
from the eruption melted his very flesh away.
Sam cried out, forgetting that he was underwater. A mass of precious air
bubbles rose around his face. He staggered blindly back, out of the undersea
garden, out through the cave mouth, even as the music he had heard was
drowned out by the shrieks of dying men.
 It isn't real, he told himself. Get out of here.
Then the music came back, then and beautiful.
Sam.
He pushed her voice away, stumbling back into the darkness of the ocean.
The temperature of the sea suddenly dropped. It was freezing here,
stabbing into Sam's muscles like daggers. He could not see. The light from
his mercury lamp was a feeble mist in the overwhelming blackness. His
shoulder smacked hard against a rock. He remained there, crouched, hoping
to get his eyes to adjust to the absolute darkness.
Through his mouthpiece, he could feel his air resisting, coming slowly,
the sure sign that he was near the end of his air supply. Gradually his
eyes began to accommodate themselves to the inky darkness and he could
concentrate on the dim column of light from his torch. He pointed it upward
and began his ascent, slowly, taking care not to overtake his own bubbles,
sucking gently on his mouthpiece.
He tried not to think of what would happen when his air ran out. By the
time he reached the metal pillars, it was useless. Still he continued his
ascent, breathing out slowly, knowing that holding his breath was the worst
thing he could do, yet instinctively unwilling to let go of his last tie to life.
Come back, the voice called. It was sweet and full of promise. Her song.
You belong here, Sam, don't go don't go don't . . .
Again he saw the image of the man's face above the volcano, his eyes
ferocious n his melting flesh.
Sam
He slowed. His arm holding the torch lowered.
Why not? he thought. He was going to die anyway. Why not die in Her
embrace, hearing Her song?
He looked below him into the blackness. There was the faint greenish
glow from the cavemouth, extending upward in rays, like welcoming arms.
One breath. That was all it would take. One swift painful intake of water,
one convulsive shudder . . .
Her music was louder now, throbbing with his heartbeat.
Sam
He dove.
coming I'm coming back I'm
Something grabbed his leg.
Sam kicked, tried to spin around, clawed at the thing that held him.
No." You can't do this to me! Not now! He thrashed, fighting for all he
was worth. He did not want to die here, like a drowned sailor, trapped in
a web of seaweed for the fish to eat. He wanted to be with Her, in Her
arms, surrounded by Her light.
Whatever it was that had him was encircling his neck. Black arms, slick
and heavy, overpowered him. It pulled out his mouthpiece and thrust some 
thing into his face. Sam fought it, punching wildly at the thing. The black
arms tightened. The last of Sam's air spilled out of him.
He wanted to sob. He had searched for Her all his life and when he
finally found Her, he had been too afraid to stay. Now his chance was past.
He would die like the coward he was, alone and in silence.
Hanging limp, he breathed in deeply, waiting for the shock of cold salt
water in his lungs, but what poured into his throat was air.
Air?
He turned his head. The black arms loosened, allowing Sam to twist his
body and face his attacker.
It was a man. He lifted a light to his own face mask so that Sam could
see him.
It was Darian McCabe. It was his air Sam was breathing.
Darian pulled the mouthpiece from Sam and took a breath before handing
it back. Then, holding Sam in his arms, like a baby, the old man kicked up
slowly along the anchor rope toward the surface above.
Sam let his mind go blank. He was safe now, he knew. But somewhere
behind his hearing, the music from the cave came back to him dimly, half 
remembered, with each moment growing fainter and farther away.

chapter 3.
ON THE DECK OF THE STYX, DARIAN UNZIPPED THE TOP OF SAM'S WET SUIT
and pulled off his face mask. There were deep red indentations on his skin
at the mask's pressure points, and Sam's nose was bleeding.
But he was breathing.
Darian covered him with a scratchy wool blanket. Without removing his
own wet suit, the old man started the boat's twin diesel engines and gunned
the boat through the nighttime darkness to the Florida coast. He cast a
disgusted look at the fancy speedboat that Sam had driven out in.  Screw
it. Let it sink," he growled. He had no time to waste, not if he was going
to save Sam's life.
Rapture of the Deep. He had seen it before. A diver gets too deep, stays
too long, and the ocean drives him crazy. Darian had seen men cut their
own air hoses with knives, laughing as they drowned.
The old man ran his hand through his wet hair. He should have known
that Sam wouldn't listen to him. Whatever the reason, the Peaks had a
powerful hold on the boy.
Is that why you knew to come here after him?
Darian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He had awakened in the
middle of the night, so certain that Sam was gone that he had not even
bothered checking his bunk. He had come here, out of all the vast Atlantic,
to this very spot, at night, without so much as consulting a map or a compass.
But of course you knew the place. Jamie died right nearby, didn't he?
With a cry of anguish, Darian pushed the throttle full forward, set the
automatic pilot, and went back to join Sam on deck.
To his astonishment, Sam was conscious. He was sitting up, holding a
cloudy-looking, spear-shaped rock dangling from a golden chain.
 You're awake."
Sam nodded.
Darian didn't know whether to scream in rage or joy. By rights, he ought
to be in a coma, or at least screaming with the bends.  I'm going to get you
to the hospital to check you out," the old man finally said.  What the hell's
that?"
Sam gave him the necklace. Beneath the thick deposits of crust on the
crystal, it glowed faintly when Darian touched it.  Jesus Christ," the old
man shouted, dropping it to the deck.
Sam lunged for it before it could wash overboard and offered it again.
 It's gold," he rasped.  I want you to have it."
Darian grunted. He examined the necklace again, this time careful not
to touch the stone. The clasp holding the pendant to the chain was in the
shape of a squat cross inscribed by a circle. It was the same symbol that
was painted on the shard of pottery Sam had found earlier.
 I'll be damned," Darian muttered.
 They came from the same place," Sam said quietly.
 You found the pot handle on the beach down near Biscayne."
 That's where I found it. But it came from the Peaks."
Darian looked at him sourly, but decided not to start an argument.  Probably more junk," he said.  Gold plated, most likely. Fell over the side of
some pleasure boat yesterday."
Sam didn't answer.
 If it'll make you happy, though, I'll take it to the Ocean ographic Museum
so some faggot with letters behind his name can tell you that it's crap."
 It's yours. Do whatever you want with it."
Darian grunted, hooked the necklace around his diving belt and went
below to change into dry clothes. When he came back on deck, Sam was
sleeping.
Mister Smith."
Sam awoke, confused. The last thing he remembered was sitting on deck,
looking up at the stars. He must have passed out. Only this wasn't the Styx.
He appeared to be inside some sort of spaceship.
 You're in a hyperbaric chamber," a pretty dark-haired nurse said,
smiling.
 Where . . . where's   ." His voice sounded thick and muffled. It was
hard to get his lips to work.
 West Palm Hospital," she said.  The sedation will wear off soon." She
smiled again and took his forearm.  I need to get some blood." Expertly
she slid in a needle.
Sam looked at his arm. There were three other puncture holes in it.  Why
are you taking so much blood from me?" he asked.
The nurse shrugged.  Doctor's orders. He'll be in to see you soon," she
said as she rearranged the pillow under his head. They were close; their
eyes met.
Cute eyes, mister diver. Want to dive into me sometime?
 What?" Sam asked, surprised.
 I didn't say anything." The nurse's face reddened. She left the room
quickly, air hissing out as she opened the chamber's heavy metal door.
The air was palpably heavy in the small, low-ceilinged room. He could
almost feel it weighing down on his body. In chambers like this, he knew,
divers who had been under too long were slowly returned to normal atmo 
spheric pressure. This allowed nitrogen bubbles which had blown up inside


their bodies to be slowly purged. If it worked and they did it in time, a
diver might not wind up crippled.
He closed his eyes and remembered what had brought him here. The
Peaks. The two towers. The strange scene inside the underwater cave.
Maybe they can fix my body, but my mind is beyond repair. I'm as crazy
as a loon.
He always knew the craziness would take over one day. All his life it
had been lurking in his head, right behind the shivers, waiting to come out.
He had tried hard not to go crazy, tried to keep it at bay. But the ocean . . .
the Peaks . . .
Two men and a woman, all wearing white lab coats, came into the chamber
and headed immediately for the chart at the foot of Sam's bed, murmuring
among themselves. The woman glanced up from the chart, her eyes meeting
Sam's, and he felt his breath catch.
It was not just her beauty, although anyone would have called her attractive. She was blonde and gray-eyed, with the big boned legginess of a runner
rather than a dancer. But there was something about her that touched some 
thing inside Sam, some deep, vibrating chord that filled him with an odd
mixture of joy and fear.
Her lips parted. They were sensually full lips that were at odds with her
straight, pulled-back hair and absence of makeup or jewelry.
She feels it too, Sam thought, puzzled. The woman looked away.
 Hello, Sam. Good to see you with us," one of the men said, smiling.
 I'm Doctor Cohen. This is Doctor Krantz, our head of serology, and Doctor Althorpe
from our psychiatric staff."
So that's why she's looking at me, Sam thought glumly. She's a head 
shrinker.
 You're in a hyperbaric chamber as a precautionary measure against
caisson disease," Doctor Cohen went on absently, flipping through the chart.
 The bends. As a diver, of course, you know about that."
 I didn't have the bends."
 Apparently not, although it says here you were down deep, and long
enough to use up your air supply."
Sam shrugged.
 You did have quite a lot of nitrogen in your blood when you came in,
but that's almost gone now."
 Then I'm all right?" Sam asked.
 Oh, your health seems quite sound," the other doctor, Krantz, answered.
He was older than the other two, with a nervous way of moving that reminded
Sam of a marionette on a string.  It's your blood that's of interest here."
Sam raised his eyebrows.  What is wrong with it?"
 Nothing's wrong. It's just that it appears to be rather unusual, a type
I've only encountered once before."
 They told me in the navy it was type O-negative."
The doctor shook his head.  Blood typing is a whole new thing since the
days of four major blood types and all that. With DNA and more sophisticated
testing, now we find many different strains. For instance . . .


He chattered on, but Sam was not paying attention. His eyes were focused
on the woman, who was watching him intently.
 Your blood type may be one in a million." Doctor Krantz smiled encouragingly, as if Sam ought to be experiencing a sense of triumph over the makeup
of his blood.
 Yeah? So?"
Krantz cleared his throat.  I suppose what I'm getting at is that I that
is, the medical community in general would appreciate it if we might study
your case at some length." He smiled ingratiatingly.
 You mean you want me to stay in the hospital?"
 Just for an extra day or two. For your sake," he added hastily.  Because
of the quantity of blood we'd be taking."
 Whoa," Sam said.  You're not taking more quantities of blood from me
than you already have. If there's nothing wrong with me, I want to get out
of here."
The corners of Krantz's mouth twitched downward but he managed a
resolute smile.  Perhaps an outpatient program. Once a week, say, for six
months or so.   "
Sam laughed out loud.  You're not getting it, Doc. No more blood. I
mean it." He swung his legs over the bed.  Where are my clothes?"
Doctor Cohen touched his shoulder and gently pressed Sam back into the
bed.  You'll be released as soon as possible," he said gently.  But you can't
leave until the sedation wears off completely. Get some rest."
 No more blood," Sam said stubbornly.
 Well, we wish you'd think about it," Krantz said.
 You said you'd run across somebody else with the same blood as me.
Why not test him?"
Krantz hesitated.
 He's dead," the woman said, eliciting a dirty look from both male doctors.
 He was a diver, too," Krantz explained.  I saw him when he came in
with a shark wound. But he died months later in an auto accident. His death
had nothing to do with his blood." He directed his last remark toward the
woman.
 Well, if I die in an auto accident, I'll will you my blood."
Doctor Cohen laughed and gave Sam a pat on the shoulder.  We'll leave you
with Doctor Althorpe," he said.  When she gives you the okay, you can go."
Doctor Krantz, the serologist, looked crestfallen.
Doctor Althorpe pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down. Sam felt uncomfortable with the woman now that they were alone together. He tried not
to look at her.
 According to the man who brought you in, you may have had an episode
of nitrogen narcosis," she said quietly.  Rapture of the Deep. You're familiar
with it?"
 I've heard about it."
 The symptoms sometimes resemble dementia . . . being crazy." She
smiled, and Sam felt a little of his discomfort melting away.
 That so?" he asked nonchalantly.


 Yes. I want you to know that so that you don't think you lost your mind
down there."
/ don't think, I know.
 It's a purely physical phenomenon. So if you did anything strange,
well . . . there's nothing wrong with your mind. And there's no reason for
it to happen again."
Strange? Strange has been happening to me all my life.
 You don't seem convinced."
 Sure. Whatever you say. Can I get out of here now?"
Doctor Althorpe sighed.  It's usually helpful to the patient to talk about it."
Sam folded his arms over his chest.  And you're not going to give me
my walking papers until I do, right? Look, there's nothing to say. I stayed
down too long and I came up too fast. That's all."
 Was your vision distorted at times?"
Sam didn't answer.
 Did you see things that weren't there?"
 I don't know."
 Images, memories? Did your thoughts become tangible?"
 What's that mean?" Sam asked.
She opened her hands.  This phenomenon affects people in different
ways, much like drugs or alcohol. Sometimes the things people see in
this condition take on unusual aspects. They appear physically different or
imbued with emotions. Ordinary fish can suddenly become sinister and
menacing. Or even comical. Or you can picture things that have been stored
in your mind for years. Your mother's face. A long-lost pet."
Slowly, Sam nodded.
 What did you see, Sam?" She leaned forward intently.
Hesitantly he began.  People, mostly. Things from a long time ago. The
people looked kind of like cartoons."
 Yes," she said.  That's a pretty common occurrence. Sometimes people
suffering from this narcosis see entire scenes, almost like dream sequences
in a movie."
Sam was silent. Doctor Althorpe said,  And you did too, didn't you?"
Sam began to recount what had happened to him underwater. He was
tentative at first, watching the doctor for a sign that she considered him a
crackpot. There was none. She put the clipboard down and listened without
taking notes, encouraging him. As he spoke, he felt freer, although he knew
he could never disclose anything about the shivers or the music he heard
or the voice calling him back to the depths. But she had been right: Just
talking about the strange visions made him feel better. Finally he told her
about the cave, about the island he saw, the people on it, the erupting
volcano.
 A. . . . volcano," she repeated in a whisper. It was the first time she had
spoken since he had begun his recitation.
 It was in the center of the island. I think it was an island, anyway. It
was big. The volcano was pretty far away, but when it blew, it destroyed
everything." He wiped his face.  And there was a man. He was standing
right beside the volcano. Don't ask me how I could see his face. I don't
know, it was like a dream or something, but I could see him. He   . he
melted."
Doctor Althorpe put her hands to her eyes and swayed in her seat. After a
moment she looked up, startled.  I'm sorry," she said quickly.  It wasn't
anything you said. I was just feeling a little faint." She smiled, though her
face was still ashen.  I shouldn't have skipped breakfast."
 Oh. I thought you were freaking out at what I said."
She shook her head.  Not at all. But tell me. . . ." She bit her lip.  Where
were you diving?"
 Southeast. Near the out-islands. You know, the one where all those
people were killed way back when. The area's called the Peaks."
 I know it. I used to go out there." She cleared her throat.  Would you
allow me to conduct some tests with you before you go?" She saw his reaction
and added hastily,  Psychological tests. Nothing distasteful, I promise."
Sam lay back on the bed and sighed.  So I am crazy after all," he said.
 No, not at all. It's just . . . just that business with the volcano. I've
encountered that particular image before, with other patients."
He sat up.  You're kidding. Inside the cave, too?"
 No, that part's your own. But the volcano . . ." The doctor clasped her
hands together. Sam could see them trembling.
 Are you all right?" he asked.
 Yes, of course." She took a deep breath.  At any rate, I'd like to do
those tests to see what you have in common with other people who've seen
the same thing."
Sam nodded.  Just standard, huh?"
 Yes." She stood up and smoothed her skirt mechanically.  Just standard."

chapter 4.
NOTHING is STandARD ABOUT THIS, CORY ALTHORPE THOUGHT AS SHE
rushed through the hospital corridors to her office. The Peaks. The volcano.
The island. The blood.
Oh, God, Memory Island. And the blood.
In her office she rifled through her file drawers and came up with the folder
on the dead diver whose blood was so similar to Sam Smith's. December  92.
The man's name had been Mark Cole.
Attacked by a shark and admitted to the hospital in a deep coma, Cole
had not been expected to survive a single night. Yet, to the amazement of
the hospital staff, he had made a full recovery.
While he was recuperating, he had told Doctor Althorpe about the visions
he saw while unconscious. They were not the usual tunnel-white light-dead
relatives experience reported by most people who had come back to life
after their normal functions had terminated. Mark Cole had seen a volcano.
So had others. They had all seen a volcano. They had all had the same
type of blood. And they possessed one other common factor.
They were all dead.
In the back of the file cabinet was a small bound volume, its pages musty
smelling and yellowed with age. Cory took it out and opened it to the first
page.
EDWARD BONNER, it read in her grandfather's angular hand. 1966.
Cory had been seven years old then. Eight when he died a year later.
She turned the page: MAY 14 1966. i HAVE 17 WILLING PARTICIPANTS, ALL WITH
THE SAME X FACTOR IN THEIR BLOOD,   ALL PSYCHIC AS THE VERY DEVIL.
Edward Bonner had been a prominent internist who had devoted the last
fifteen years of his life to the study of psychic phenomena. He had been
convinced that there was a physical common denominator among people
who exhibited a high degree of extrasensory perception.
The year before his death, according to his journal, he finally had found
something to support his belief. He had located seventeen subjects of out 


standing psychic ability who also seemed to be unusually resistant to infection and who healed faster than normal people.
Although blood testing was not well developed in the mid-sixties,
Bonner with the help of a small federal grant, enough to hire a young
serologist to serve as his assistant managed to find one factor in the blood
of the seventeen that was different from  normal" blood.
In April of 1967, Bonner brought the subjects together on a small island
off the coast of Florida. The island was his personal property, inherited
from his father. There the seventeen participants learned that what each
could do alone was magnified a thousandfold when they worked together.
They were able to perform feats of what could only be called magic.
During the last night at the conference, the group spontaneously called
forth a vision they all saw: a volcano erupting, with a man standing in the
middle of the fiery blast. Not one of the subjects understood the vision, but
it had been somehow familiar to each of them.
They had experienced a group memory.
The seventeen had felt nearly as exultant as Edward Bonner. They called
themselves the Rememberers, and named the place where they had come
together Memory Island.
How true the name turned out to be, Cory thought, blinking back tears
as the image of her grandfather came unbidden into her mind. Her memory
of him was too painful. She had loved him more than either of her parents.
He had been the one she shared her dreams and fears with; the one to
cradle her head during the fierce summer storms that changed the face of
the island every year, though the small frame house had stood, seemingly
forever . . . until the day it exploded and burned in a spray of blood and
bodies.
Even now, almost thirty years later, the blood was still there, turned black
on the planks of rotting wood, but still there.
In the end, the blood had been Edward Bonner's testament. The press,
with its infinite capacity for stupid callousness, had interpreted the tragedy
as a bleak joke, with Bonner and his obsession for  hocus-pocus" as its
butt. His brilliance was forgotten, his files destroyed, his program ridiculed.
All that was left of Edward Bonner's work were the pages in his personal
journal that the young Cory had found in the bedroom of his farmhouse in
Vermont.
From the time of the triumphant mass vision of the volcano to the accident
some months later, the Rememberers had used all their skills to determine
the meaning of that single, ineradicable memory.
A camaraderie grew among them. A husband-wife pair of doctors, Lars
and Marie Nowar, even told the group shyly that she was pregnant and that
the baby had been conceived on Memory Island. Unfortunately, the group
had only had enough time to distill one idea about the otherwise meaningless
volcano vision: the sea. Somehow, they all knew, the sea was involved.
This prompted Bonner to focus his experiments on just one of the Rememberers, Jamie McCabe. Although the boy's father, a  colorful but stone 
headed local," according to Bonner's personal notes, had denounced the
project from the beginning as a foolish waste of time, Jamie was the obvious
choice. Among the seventeen subjects, he was the only one who had grown


up around the sea. And despite the fact that he was only twelve, his extrasen 
sory perception was by far the most highly developed of the group.
One day, in a small powerboat that the boy could pilot like an expert,
he led Doctor Bonner to a place in the ocean off the coast of Memory Island.
 It's here," he said.
 What is?"
 I don't know. The memory."
Doctor Bonner had asked several divers to explore the area, but all had
refused. Apparently there was some superstition attached to it. They referred
to the area as the Peaks.
Cory closed the book. There were no more entries. She knew the Remem 
berers had held only one more group session after the last entry was made,
but what went on was not known because Bonner's notes were destroyed
in the explosion.
His files, kept in his small office in West Palm Beach, had been packed
away somewhere. Cory had tried to locate them after graduating from medical school, but no one in the family had had any idea where they were.
Her grandfather's program had been a waste, after all, they had said with
disdain. A complete embarrassment, of no interest to anyone.
Yet, twenty-five years later, the dead diver named Mark Cole had seen
a volcano. And so, just last night, had Sam Smith.
She telephoned Doctor Krantz in the serology lab, trying to keep the distaste
she felt for the man out of her voice.
 About Mister Smith," she said.
 Who? Oh, the nitrogen narcosis. Did he change his mind about giving
blood?"
 Not yet, but I'm working on it. I'm calling about his physical condition."
 What about it?" Krantz snapped.  I'm very busy."
 The level of nitrogen in his blood seemed very high upon admission."
Krantz snorted.  That's why he was put in the H-chamber."
 And yet he's had no ill effects. Not even a trace of the bends. Is that
usual?"
There was a pause.  Nitrogen affects people differently. But overall, no,
it's not usual. You'd expect him to have some kind of symptom." He paused.
 Get him to stay for more tests. Use your charm."
 Thank you," Cory said coldly and hung up.
Seventeen subjects, all unusually resistant to illness and injury, she
thought, running her finger absently along the spine of her grandfather's
journal. All psychics.
And what does that make me?
Cory had never suffered a cold in her life and never had a cavity. She
had broken her leg once when she fell from a horse, but she had never
been what one would call sick.
The first time she had seen her own blood was when her grandfather
drew a small amount from her finger to show her the powers of the great
electron microscope in his laboratory.
 Now, that didn't hurt a bit, did it?" he had asked, preparing the slide.
She shook her head proudly, At eight, she would have endured any pain
just to be with him among his huge, secret tools.
 All right, now there it is at five thousand. Doesn't look like blood at all,
does it?"
She stared through the microscope at the curved wall that was one of
her corpuscles.  Wow."
Bonner chuckled and adjusted the controls as he lifted Cory onto his lap.
The image on the slide was so enlarged now that she could see designs on
the surface of a single blood cell.
 Those squiggles are what make your blood a little bit different from
everyone else's," he said.  And a little bit the same, too. They're like little
signs. What I'm working on is finding out if some of these signs can tell
you what a person's brain thinks like."
 You can tell that just by looking?"
 Not yet, but maybe some day." He moved her aside to peer into the
lens himself.  Now, what I'm looking for these days is one particular "
He stopped abruptly.
 What is it, Grandfather?"
Silently, he lifted her off his lap and placed her on the floor, then adjusted
the microscope for more power. Cory shifted from one foot to the other.
She would never disturb her grandfather in his work, but he seemed to
have forgotten she was there.
Finally he lifted his head and stared at her. His gaze, puzzled, fascinated,
was frightening to the girl.
 Is everything all right, Grandfather?" she ventured.
Bonner smiled.  Yes, honey. Everything's fine." He switched off the
microscope, held out his big wrinkled hand, and led her into his office.
There he took out a box filled with rectangular cards. He placed five in
front of her. One had a circle on it, another a square. The third was a star,
the fourth a triangle, and the last a set of parallel wavy lines.
 Let's play a guessing game," he said, taking another card from the box
and putting it face down on the desk.  What's this card?"
 A star," she said without hesitation.
 And this one?"
 A square."
When she had gone through the box of cards four times, Cory asked,
 Did I get any right?"
 Fifty."
 Just fifty?" She was disappointed.
 Fifty's good. About a million times better than most." Cory beamed, but
her grandfather was not smiling.  Tell me, Cory   . do you ever know things
that other people don't?"
She squirmed in her seat.  Like what?"


Bonner shrugged.  Like . . . oh, I don't know . . . like something's going
to happen before it does?"
She wrung her hands.  Well, I always know when Daddy isn't going to
come home for the weekend. Mommy cries."
Bonner harumphed. He had never cared much for his philandering son 
in-law.
 And I always know when it's going to rain," she said brightly.  The air
smells different." Then she looked down at the floor.
 What's the matter, honey?"
 It isn't a good thing," she said.
 If it's the truth, it's good. That's what science is all about."
A fat tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away.
 What is it?" her grandfather asked gently.
 I can tell when people are going to die," she whispered.
Bonner blinked.
 I don't try to do it. It just happens."
 When does it happen?"
She sighed.  Like when Jody Alexander got sick at school. She said she
just had the flu and got over it, but I knew. She didn't come back after
summer vacation. Everybody was surprised when she died except me." Her
breath exploded out of her in a sob.  Because I knew."
Bonner came across his desk and knelt beside her.  Cory, just because
one time "
 It wasn't one time. I saw a policeman outside a store and I knew it about
him. Then that night I saw his face on TV. Somebody shot him. And there
were other times too. Lots   ."
She gasped. Around her grandfather's head was a dark corona, like a
halo of black light.
 What is it?" Bonner asked.
Cory moaned and buried her face in his neck.  Please take me home,
Grandfather," she said.
Less than six months later, Edward Bonner was dead.
It means nothing, Cory told herself. This had been the first time in years
that she even remembered the incident in her grandfather's laboratory. And
people remembered incorrectly. Nowadays, the courts were cluttered with
cases filed by people who  remembered" things that never happened.
Bonner probably had not spent a long time examining the slide of her
blood. Children were impatient. It was probably just a few seconds. And
she knew from her own work that getting fifty correct answers out of a
hundred Zener ESP cards was possible for anyone, given a single test. Had
she repeated it, she might well have scored the normal twenty percent or
less. And the fact that she had never had a cavity was undoubtedly due to
good hygiene and proper food. People raised in comfortable circumstances
rarely had bad teeth.
She replaced Bonner's journal in the file cabinet and locked it. Sam Smith,
in the throes of caisson's disease, had seen a vision. It had nothing to do
with her.
 Bring in Mister. Smith from Room seven fourteen," she snapped into the
intercom.

chapter 5.
THE OLD MAN WALKED INTO THE CURATOR'S OFFICE, SAW A WASTE BASKET,
and spat into it.
 Darian McCabe," he announced.
The secretary's gaze moved slowly from the waste basket to the man's
weather-lined face with its arrogant, arched nose and clear gray eyes as
wise as the sea. Her first impression of him was that he was made out of
bronze, like a statue incongruously clad in blue jeans and a none-too-clean
T-shirt. He seemed bigger than life, utterly motionless, yet somehow filling
the room with his presence.
 I believe Doctor Woodson is expecting you," she said, rising to show him
into the inner office.
 I can get there by myself," McCabe said.
When he entered, Woodson looked up from his desk. To McCabe's sur 
prise, he was a black man. He stood up and walked over to McCabe with
a limp so pronounced that his whole body seemed as twisted and gnarled
as an old tree.
 Harold Woodson," he said curtly, extending his hand. His voice and
face were young no older than fifty, Darian surmised although the rest
of him might easily pass for ninety.  You have something you want me to
see?"
Darian liked the man at once. No phony smiles, no chit-chat. When he
called the Ocean ographic Museum for an appointment, he had expected
some twerp with a Rolex watch on his wrist and a Greenpeace poster behind
his desk.
 One of my men found this." McCabe produced the pendant from his
pocket, careful to hold it by its chain.
Woodson took it the same way, then placed it on a square of black velvet
near a small sofa and motioned for Darian to sit down.
He examined it with a magnifying glass.  Where'd your man find it?"
 Out a ways."
 International waters?"
 Aye. Belongs to the finder. Nobody else."


Woodson glanced at him sideways with half a smile, then turned back
to the object.  The bale's unusual."
 Spanish cross, I figured," McCabe said, testing.
The black man shook his head.  No way. It's too stark. Modern, almost.
Yet   ." He fell silent.
 Think it's worth anything?"
 Well, I'm pretty sure it's a gold chain, so that should be worth a chunk.
But any other value . . . He shrugged while he scraped lightly at the cloudy
stone with his fingernail.  You can't carbon-date gold. And the stone . . ."
He put the magnifying glass down.  I can have it analyzed to see what the
stone is, but I don't think there's any way we can determine the age of
the piece. I don't know. Maybe the deposits on the stone might tell us
something."
Darian snorted.  I told him it was nothing." He dug into his pocket again
and came up with the pottery shard Sam had found on the beach.  He
picked this up, too."
Woodson's eyebrows raised.  Come from the same place?"
Darian cleared his throat.  Might have."
Woodson seemed more interested in the shard.  The same design as the
bale," he mused.  That's weird."
 Christian?"
 Not necessarily. Many cultures used the cross as a symbol for different
things. Actually this is more like an X on its side or a plus sign. And it
doesn't appear without the circle around it. It might even be Greek. Some
early Mycenean work looked sort of like this."
Darian looked down his impressive nose at the man.  You don't find
Greek antiquities in these waters," he said.
 No, not usually," Woodson agreed.  Of course, it might have washed
off a sunken ship. Ships have gotten lost in some areas of the Atlantic. Out
a ways."
A halfsmile crossed Darian's lips.  That came from a place called the
Peaks. Heard of it?"
Woodson nodded.  Know it well. There's a lot of seismic activity going
on out there right now. The coast guard's out keeping an eye on things."
 We seen  em."
 Well, who knows? That's why this shard may be an impressive find. It
might have been unearthed from a great depth during a quake." Woodson
picked up the pendant again and placed it in the palm of his hand.  And
this, too," he said.  Mother of God!"
He dropped the pendant. Its glow dissipated slowly as it fell back onto
the black velvet.
Darian laughed.  Took me a spell to get over that myself," he said.
After a long moment, Woodson pulled his gaze away from the stone to
look at McCabe.  What is that?" he whispered.
Darian shook his head.  Don't know."
 You said it came from the Peaks?"
Darian grunted agreement.  Now you're not going to give me any of that
Bermuda Triangle hogwash, are you?"
 No, of course not." Woodson touched the stone again, lightly with the

tip of his finger. Its green light flickered.  But what the devil could cause
that?"
 Never seen anything like it myself."
 Do you mind if I have it analyzed?"
 Nope. Long as you give it back."
 Well, naturally. Is there more?"
 Just the two pieces. My man got the Rapture. Nearly drowned. I had to
bring him up."
Woodson forced himself to look away from the pendant.  I'm sorry. I
hope he's all right."
 They say at the hospital he's fine. Got him in one of those spaceship
rooms."
 Hyperbaric chamber," Woodson said.
 Only he ain't got the bends."
 He's lucky."
Darian leaned back, sizing up the black man.  That's what you got, ain't
it?" he observed.
 That's right," Woodson said tightly.
 Still dive?"
 Every chance I get."
Darian smiled.  The sea's a mean bitch. Once she gets you, she don't
want to let you go."
 She almost didn't," Woodson said with a rueful smile.
Darian stood up to leave.  You're better'n I expected," he said, extending
his hand. Woodson shook it and looked searchingly at McCabe's face.
 What's the matter? Tobacco juice on my chin?"
 No, no. I'm sorry. It's just that you look familiar to me. We might have
dived together once."
 Doubt it," Darian said, shaking his head.  I'd remember a man of your
color on a dive. It ain't usual."
Woodson smiled.  I keep forgetting. We aren't supposed to be able to
swim."
 Maybe, maybe not. But I'd have remembered." Darian grasped the door 
knob, but Woodson's hand closed over his own.
 It was on the island," the black man said softly, the remembrance a
shock to himself, even as he spoke the words.  Memory Island."
A look of acute distress crossed Darian's face. Woodson was immediately
sorry he'd spoken.  Forgive me. I know how painful that must be for you."
 Do you?" Darian snapped.
Woodson looked out the window.  I was one of them."
The old man stood, silent, for a moment.  The Rememberers," he said
at last, his voice thick with bitterness.  That's what Jamie used to call
you . . . you people. Like it was some kind of social club."
Woodson said nothing. The silence between them seemed almost palpable.
Darian finally broke it.  How'd you get away?" he asked flatly.
 I was in the John. When the explosion hit, it blew the wall out and me
with it. I was out cold until it was all over."


McCabe was looking past Woodson's head, his steely eyes watching
something deep within his own mind.
Suddenly Woodson wished to God that McCabe would go. He had not
meant to speak of the island. It had taken years of effort to erase it from
his memory. Yet it came back now as fresh and terrible as it had been
twenty-nine years earlier. The bodies, the blood. The kid Darian McCabe's
son blackened like a cinder, his body thrown over his mother's.
 Jamie was a fine boy," Woodson said in a rasp.  Exceptional."
Darian grunted. Yes, Jamie was exceptional, all right. All of the Remem 
berers had been psychic, but none like Jamie. That was what that lunatic
Bonner had told the McCabes that their boy might be a  pure strain,"
capable of unimaginable things. Darian had been against the experiment
from the first, yet he had permitted the boy to participate because Jamie
had wanted to so badly. He belonged with these people, he had said. At
last he belonged somewhere.
And then he was dead. The strange mental gifts of Darian's brilliant son
had ultimately killed him and his mother, who had only been on the island
to look after her child.
They had killed Darian too, in every sense that mattered.
 The past is done," the old man said. He left the office without looking
at Woodson.
Is it? Harry Woodson wondered.
The past was obviously not done for Darian McCabe. But he had no idea
how bad it actually had been. McCabe didn't know that the accident that
had killed his son had been no accident at all.
Except for Woodson, no one knew that not all of Bonner's seventeen
Rememberers had been present on the island that night. Four had not come
to the conference. But they had died all the same. Different people, different
places, all in one weekend. A New England minister torn to shreds by a
thresher on his farm in Maine. A hillbilly woman from West Virginia, stabbed
by her crazy husband. Two doctors, a husband and his pregnant wife, killed
when their car drove over into a swamp.
And then all the Rememberers were dead. All of them except for Harry
Woodson.
His name hadn't been Woodson then. He was born Harrison Wood, Jr.
Doctor Bonner's experiment had cost him his name, his family, his past, the
future he had planned . . . and more. He looked down at his crippled hands
which were never without pain. Much more.
On the day of the deaths, all of them seemed to have known that some 
thing bad was going to happen. Jamie had been silent and pale all day,
It was odd, Woodson was to think later. Thirteen psychics, all developed
to peak ability, and yet not one of them had dared trust his or her instinct
of doom. It was as if it were all still a game to them, with no relation to
real life.
That certainly had been true in Woodson's own case, at least in the
beginning. He had come to Memory Island strictly in vacation mode. He
had never believed in psychics, and had assumed from the beginning that


all the Rememberers were reveling as much as he was in splashing around
on a Caribbean paradise while getting over on the U S. government.
Those were the halcyon days of the sixties, when being black was the
ticket for everything he wanted. White people, particularly educated ones
associated with institutions, automatically assumed that Harry came from a
fatherless home, lived in poverty, and suffered from low self-esteem, and
bent over backward to make his life easier. Teachers understood when he
failed to turn in assignments. The administration closed its eyes when he
and two other students were caught hiding a camera inside the women's
locker room in the gym building. And long-haired blondes threw themselves
at him, doing their part for Equal Opportunity.
Naturally he kept very quiet about the fact that his father was an aerospace
engineer for NASA and his mother a concert pianist, and that Harry himself
was the product of elite private schools, summers in Europe, and a home
life of warmth and discipline.
In undergraduate school, his instructors routinely were amazed by his
good grades. Part of the dreadful existence he was supposed to have led,
he surmised, included being an academic zero; but on this he could not
pander to the expectations of white folks. His father, Harrison Wood, Sr ,
would have had no qualms about rewarding a failing grade with a year's
hard labor.
As it was, he had tried to defy his father only once, when Harry had first
fallen in love with diving. Young Harry announced at the dinner table
that he had decided to forego college and instead take up a career as an
underwater photographer.
His father had politely ordered him out of the house.
After three months of being a bonafide black man living at poverty level
with no prospects, he came home prepared to listen to his father's lecture
about choosing something  worthwhile" which meant engineering to
do with his life. He was reluctantly working on his masters in civil engi 
neering when Bonner's program came to light.
Harrison Wood, Sr , definitely would not have considered participating
in a psychic experiment  worthwhile." So Harry didn't tell him about it,
just as he never told his father that he smoked pot, dropped acid occasionally, grew his hair into an Afro, wore tie-dyed dashikis, and had taken up
his own brand of African mysticism which basically involved stroking the
bared limbs of gullible coeds in order to drive evil spirits away.
He had found that he had a genuine talent for  reading" his subjects. It
was pleasant and convenient that girls were so crazy about having him drive
away their evil spirits, but occasionally a feeling would steal over him
and he found himself inside the young women's heads, hurting, striving,
suffering from things that, as a man, he had never encountered.
That had ruined everything for him. He saw the pain of a beautiful girl
from Colorado whose stepfather had beaten her mercilessly for nine years;
he felt the shame of a slender Japanese from Radcliffe who had consented
to sex with a professor in exchange for a better grade. He understood how
desperately some of them needed the real answers that he was not able to
give.
Harry stopped the African witch doctor scam then, but not before one


of the girls had given him a newspaper clipping about Doctor Bonner's search
for people with psychic ability. More than half drunk, Harry showed up
for the test about which he later could remember not one thing and
amazingly was invited to join Bonner's group.
 Have wet suit, will travel," he told his roommates, flashing his free plane
ticket to Palm Beach. His friends shook their heads with admiration. Harry
had just raised the art of deceit and scam to an entirely new dimension.
And yet, for all Harry's cynicism, he too had seen the volcano. And he
realized that he had never before felt such a closeness to anyone as he did
to this motley group of seventeen misfits brought together by the blood
they had in common and the freakish gift this blood seemed to carry
with it.
The Rememberers.
Harry looked down at his hands. They were holding the pendant. It still
glowed faintly with its odd green light.
He called the lab.  I've got a couple of pieces here I'd like you to clean
up and try to date," he said.
He set it down with a sigh.
The driver of the boat that crashed had been burned beyond recognition,
as if he had been soaked in gasoline. The boat had gone straight to its mark,
as if it had been set by remote control.
But why would anyone want to kill psychics on a remote island? Except
for their unusual blood, the Rememberers were the most ordinary sort of
people, not rich or famous or threatening to anyone in any way.
But if Harry had any doubts at the time that the dozen deaths had been
murder, they were dispelled shortly afterward. Minutes after he came to,
two men with guns drawn pulled into the dock at Memory Island to inspect
the bodies.
They want to make sure we're all dead, he remembered thinking.
Blindly, unthinking, he ran. In a small cove on the island, Bonner had
kept a small motorboat. Harry had taken it out the day before to go diving.
He jumped aboard and, using a small emergency oar, paddled out into the
ocean until he was sure the boat's motor would be out of earshot of the
armed intruders.
But he was wrong. Moments after he started the engine, he saw the big
speedboat back away from the island and come racing after him. He had
no chance now. It was daylight and open sea. They couldn't miss him, and
his little boat could not possibly outrun the big speed craft.
His only chance was underwater. His scuba equipment was still in the
boat and he knew the tanks still contained some air. He dove into the water
backfirst, dropped to the shallow bottom, and began swimming back toward
Memory Island. The previous day he had discovered that the water near
the island ranged from forty to two hundred feet in depth, with very little
gradation. The bottom just seemed to drop out in places. Now Harry dove
into one of those deep canyons, there to wait and hide until his pursuers
had left.
He had not counted on them having their own divers and equipment


aboard. Five minutes later they were on him. Before he even saw them,
one of the men had looped a heavy nylon rope around Harry's shoulders
like a lasso.
Harry struggled violently, but the two men were big and obviously experi 
enced. They dragged him down to a deep spot, wedged him into a ledge
of coral, and pulled out his mouthpiece. As he flailed in panic, the bubbles
from his tanks billowing up around them like a reverse waterfall, the two
men carefully twisted the rope around him, then followed it back up to the
surface.
Harry tried to reach for the mouthpiece with his teeth, but that was
useless. He wriggled frantically, trying to free his arms from the coral ledge,
but the living reef clamped tightly around him like a giant tooth-filled mouth.
With a feeling of utter despair, he saw the bubbles from his tank shrink.
The huge billows slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely. Their roiling
noise stilled.
Harry was alone and the silence had come.
Thin streams of blood, colored green in the dim deep water, rose out
from his legs and chest and back where the reef had torn his flesh. His
lungs were burning.
And then, to his amazement, somehow he twisted free.
He felt himself falling out of the ledge, entangled by the mass of rope.
He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stay conscious as he extricated
himself, slowly, methodically, repeating to himself in a mental drone that
buzzed inside his bursting head. Do not panic! Do not panic!
He got out of the rope. His hands shook like pieces of paper in the water
as he ascended, fast, as fast as he could, blowing out his air, tasting the
blood in his mouth, hoping he could reach the surface before he blacked
out, feeling pain, cramps, getting worse but not caring. Do not panic!
The pain, the pain the pain the pain. . . .
He rose out of the water screaming.
The other boat was gone. The two divers had tied the end of the long
rope which they had used to harness Harry around the cleat of his own
small boat.
I'm supposed to be dead and it's supposed to look like an accident. Like
i got tangled in my own rope. But why?
He knew the answer. Because, for some reason he could not fathom,
none of the Rememberers was supposed to live.
He still could not recall how he managed to get to his family's home, up
the Florida coast, near Patrick Air Force Base. All he remembered was the
constant pain.
His father immediately got him into the Air Force Base hospital which
had a hyperbaric chamber, but by then the rogue nitrogen in his blood
vessels had already done its damage. Though Harry always had healed
quickly, this time too much injury had been done to his system. The doctors
said it was amazing that Harry had lived at all. It was small consolation for
the fact that he would be crippled for life.
A few nights later, he told his father everything. The two of them tracked


down the four Rememberers who had not been on Memory Island and found
that they had all died mysteriously on the day of the explosion.
Harrison Woods, Sr , wanted to contact the FBI, but Harry was scared.
Someone had killed all the other Rememberers. If Harry let it be known
that he was still alive, they would come after him again.
After some thought, Harry's father agreed. They settled on a radical course
of action: Harry would have to change his name, forget Yale, and move out
of the country. It was bizarre, but it seemed like the only way to keep him
alive.
In Panama, he took up diving again and found that in the depths of the
ocean, his back unbent and the everlasting pain in his joints abated. Only
in the sea that had destroyed his body could he be whole again. He started
from scratch as an undergraduate at the University of Panama and studied
oceanography.
There Harold Woodson was born, full grown, out of the sea.
destiny, he thought as he picked up the pendant again. Here he was,
a different man from the one who had participated in the Rememberers
experiment a different name, a different body, a different line of work  
and he had just met Jamie McCabe's father. The circle goes round and round.
Is it ever broken?
A technician from the lab knocked before coming in, a valise like a tool
box in his hand.
 That it?" the technician asked.
Woodson passed it over to him.
 Interesting." He held the crystal on his palm and turned it over.  Etruscan, maybe."
Woodson murmured assent.  It was found in Caribbean waters, though.
Along with this." He gave the man the pottery shard.
 Ooh." His eyebrows raised.  Now that is interesting."
He opened the case, took out some cotton wadding which he wrapped
around the shard, and placed it carefully inside. Then he picked up the
pendant, again.
 What's the stone? Quartz?" He scratched it with his thumbnail.
 You tell me," Woodson said.
The technician wrapped the pendant and put it into the case with a smile.
 Will do, chief."
As he left, Harry followed him with his eyes, frowning. Something odd
had happened. Very odd.
The pendant had not glowed when the other man touched it.
Not a glimmer.

chapter 6.
WHAT is IT?"
 A circle."
 This one?"
 Triangle."
 Now?"
 Square. And the next one's the wavy lines."
Doctor Althorpe looked at the next card in the diminishing pile and sighed.
It was a star.
 How much longer is this going to take?" Sam asked, bored.
 Only a few more cards."
 Is this the last time around?"
 Yes."
She tried not to show her irritation, although one side of her jaw clenched
in an involuntary rhythm as she presented the final cards.
Circle, circle, star, triangle, wavy lines.
All wrong.
A perfect score. Zero.
She gathered up the cards. Sam tipped his chair onto its two back legs
and sat with his arms crossed, beaming.
 How'd I do, Doc?"
 I think you know," Cory said curtly.
 How would I know? Think I'm a mind reader?" His grin grew even
broader.
 Very funny." She placed the cards neatly back into their box, yellowed
with age. They had been her grandfather's Zener cards for ESP testing, the
same set he had shown Cory when she was eight years old.
She had gone through the twenty-five cards four times, just as Bonner
had in his experiments. He had always been scrupulous about his testing
methods. An average person, without ESP, would score on average twenty
percent correct, although occasionally  lucky" scorers could do much higher
or lower. But over time, twenty percent would be normal.
For Bonner, those who scored higher than twenty percent for two tests
in a row were singled out for further testing. Of his Rememberers, some


had come out of the Zener tests with scores of fifty percent and higher,
according to the scant writings Cory had found from Bonner. The young
boy, Jamie McCabe, had scored a phenomenal eighty percent in his initial
tests. No one knew how much he might have improved over time, since all
those notes on the Rememberers had been lost.
But no one, ever, had gotten all twenty-five cards wrong four times in a
row.
Her head bent, she looked up at Sam. Her gray eyes flashed with fury,
then slowly softened.
 What are you afraid of?" she asked quietly.
Sam rolled his eyes.  Boogey men. Vampires. Dust-bunny monsters under
my bunk." He brought his chair crashing upright.  Jesus, what do I have
to say to get you to check me out of this place?" His face brightened.  My
mother. That's it. I'm afraid of my mother." He leaped out of his seat and
pulled wildly at his hair.  Help me, Doc. I tell you, I can't be held responsible
if   . oh, my God, it's coming over me gain. Aaaagh   ." He pretended to
choke himself in a fit of madness.
 The cards, Sam," Cory said flatly.  You ought to know that the chances
of your getting every one of a hundred cards wrong are on the order of
one in ten billion. You'd be more likely to be hit by a meteor."
Sam shrugged eloquently.
 What I'm saying is that a score of zero on the Zener test is as big an
indicator of psychic ability as a score of one hundred. You faked every
answer, Sam, and you know it."
 Oh, for crying out loud," he said.  You people will do anything to keep
me here."
She stared at him for a moment, then sighed.  No. No one can make you
stay against your will." She took a form from her drawer and started to
write on it.
 You're turning me over now to Doctor Krantz in the vampire wing, I suppose."
She shook her head.  I'm signing your release papers. Working with you
is pointless."
Sam grinned.
 You can leave whenever you like," Cory said briskly,  but I suggest
you stay until tomorrow morning. I'd like you to be monitored at least
overnight after coming out of the chamber."
Oh, Sam, Sam, there's trouble comin'
 What?"
Cory looked up.  I said I'd like it if you were monitored. . . ."
Hurry, not much time they're after you, Sam
He recoiled back in his chair.
Gonna kill you, gonna die just like your mama and daddy, Sam
 Stop it!" He slammed his hands over his ears.
 That joke's getting a little old," Cory said, turning back to her papers.
She signed the form and held it out to Sam, but he remained in his chair,
his hands covering his face.
 Sam?" she said quietly. She moved around the desk to him and pulled
his hands gently away. His skin was waxy and pale, his forehead covered
by beads of sweat.
 Tell me what's happening."
He was breathing hard.
 Tell me."
He blinked the sweat out of his eyes.  I'm hearing a voice . . . you . . .
someone . . ." He turned away, ashamed.  Forget it."
 I want to know what you heard."
 Nothing."
 Like hell. Tell me what the voice said."
 So you can lock me up and drain the rest of my blood out of me?"
She pushed the release form into his hand.  That's yours, all right? Now
tell me."
He closed his eyes.  Why?"
 So you won't have to hear the voice alone."
He wiped his face with the palm of one hand.  I don't know. Some crap
about how somebody's after me. I thought it was you talking."
 It wasn't." She took both his hands in her own.
 I guess you know now that I really am crazy," Sam said miserably.
 Sam, maybe . . ."
Hurry Sam gotta hurry here I am but I'll find you be careful they're
coming, Sam
Cory gasped and let go of his hands as if they were hot coals.
Sam's eyes met hers.
 You heard it, too," he said.
chapter 7.

REBA DOBBS WOKE UP IN A SWEAT, HER EYES BULGING, HER BREATH COMING
fast. She had heard a shout, but when she woke, she realized that she had
only heard herself shouting.
She did not remember what she had been dreaming. It had been bad,
though. Her gaze wandered over the familiar things in the room, the ragged
blue curtains, the cracked plaster walls, the jelly glass filled with wilted
pink blossoms, and came to rest on a framed photograph of a young man
with wavy blond hair and a cigarette clamped between his teeth.
Must have been about Bo. The bad dreams were usually about Bo.
Sometimes she thought he was calling to her from the other side. Some 
times she wanted to go. Her time was coming. She knew that. Reba was
old now, long past sixty, even though she never did learn the exact date
she was born. But life had been long enough. Her knees hurt near all the
time and she was damned tired of living alone in this old place.
Not that she minded the house. She had been born here, right in this
same bedroom, and it didn't bother her a lick that the place was practically
falling down around her head.
But Stony Holler had changed. There used to be five other families down
in the hollow but they were all gone now. Everyone but Reba. She had
never been away, except for that one brief time in Florida with the crazy
professor.
God, had it all been thirty years ago? Thirty years already?
She got out of bed, picked up the photograph of the young blond man,
and dusted it with the sleeve of the sweater she wore both day and night.
Poor Bo. He had been so young when he died, barely more than a boy.
The blood. There  had been so much blood.
A sound startled her back to the present, back to Stony Holler, where she
was an old woman living alone, and Bo and the crazy professor and all the
people they knew in Florida were just shadows in another life.
She patted down the gray wisps of hair that had escaped her kerchief
and went to the door.
 Hello, there, Reba," misses. Turnbull said in her operatic voice.  I've
brought along my friend, misses. Maclnteer. She'd like a reading too, if you
don't mind."
Reba nodded.  Glad to oblige." Her voice was froggy.  Been napping.
Not much else to do." She smiled apologetically, let the two women in, and
took a grimy deck of cards from the cupboard.
 Reba here's the best fortuneteller in the world. Isn't that right, Reba?"
They sat on wooden chairs around the kitchen table. Reba shuffled
through the cards, feeling them speak to her as the women chatted amiably
with each other.
 You got to touch these," she said, handing the deck to misses Maclnteer.
The woman giggled as she shuffled the cards. They always giggled, lest
somebody think that they really believed in the Sight. Reba's gift was just
a trick to amuse ladies on an afternoon.
 Well, am I going to win the lottery?" misses Maclnteer asked, tittering as
she handed the cards back to Reba.
The Sight. It was a burden, really. It had never helped her. Five pregnancies, not one taken to term. Her husband gone. Her sleep filled with night 
mares from the past. She read cards for foolish women because there were
no babies to deliver in Stony Holler anymore. Because that was all there
was to do with the Sight.
 Seems it ought to be just about the most powerful gift the Lord could
give you," her grandmother had said long ago. She had had the Sight, too
and, like Reba, it had done her little good.
 We ought to be able to predict rain, maybe even pick a pony once in
a while," she had cackled.  But it don't work that way, do it, girl?"
 Nothing for ourselves," Reba had answered, parroting her grandmother's
oft-repeated words.  But why did it, Gram?" she asked.  How come I was
picked?"
 Don't rightly know. None of my children was born with the Sight. But
when you seen the ghost coming for Grandpa, I knowed you had it, though
you wasn't naught but five years old."
Reba had indeed seen a ghost take her grandfather's hand in a dream on
the night he died. Since then, she had learned to use the Sight from the old
woman. Even after Gram's death, she continued to talk to Reba from time
to time.
She had spoken loud and clear after Bo's murder.
Get up, the voice had demanded.
Reba had been stabbed twice in the chest, once in her belly, and her
arms were streaming with blood. Bo lay near the window, too far away for
her to reach, his eyes open, already glazed in death.
 Gram, take me with you," Reba had sobbed.  Don't leave me here. Oh,
God, Gram, it hurts so bad, just take me. I want to come with you."
But the old woman had been insistent. You got more to do, girl, she had
answered sternly. Now you get up, you hear? You get up now.
And Reba had gotten up, although how she did she would never know,
and later she had picked up that baby that baby that baby . . .


Three of hearts, things coming to a close," she said to misses. Maclnteer.
 Something you was worried about, maybe.   ."
The baby, it was the baby then and he's a man now.
 Like you wasn't getting on so good with your husband.   ."
 Well, I'll be," misses Turnbull interjected.  Lillian, wasn't I just telling
you?"
Reba touched her forehead with trembling fingers. It felt as if her brain
was cracking inside, splitting apart.
 Five of spades   ."
Go get him, Reba, he needs you.
 The baby?" she whispered.
The two ladies looked at each other.
 What baby?" misses Turnbull asked.
You ain't thought about the baby all these years, have you?
 Reba, are you all right?"
He's going to need you again.
 I can't." Reba dropped the cards.
 Reba . . . Reba, you're looking poorly. Maybe we ought to be going."
You can reach him, warn him, you know how.
 I'm tired, Gram. I'm tired and older'n you was when you passed on."
The two women stood up, frowning. misses Turnbull patted Reba's hand,
then gestured toward the door with her chin. She took two dollars from her
purse and left them on the plastic tablecloth in front of Reba, who was still
talking to the empty air in front of her.
 Don't make me do this again," Reba begged, her eyes fixed on the far
wall.  The last time it took Bo."
It was Bo's time, child.
Bo, young and handsome as a movie star, lying with his throat cut in a
river of blood.
 Don't even know if he ever got buried proper," Reba muttered.
With a look at each other, the ladies let themselves out.
It had been daring and bold.
Young people always left the hollow because there was no work. Mostly
they went to Wheeling, a far cry from Stony Holler, but still West Virginia.
But Bo had rejected that idea. Wheeling, he said, was dead dreams that
never came true. One day he wiped his oil-stained hands on a faded red
rag and said,  I been thinking about Florida. Reckon I can fix a car there
as good as I can in Wheeling."
So childhood sweethearts, freshly married, Bo and Reba Dobbs headed
south. The money ran out near West Palm Beach, so that was where they
stayed. Within one day Bo had a job, and Reba had found them an apartment
near the growing Cuban section of the city.
Reba loved it. Salsa music blared out of cruising automobiles day and
night. The neighborhood women kept up a constant stream of chatter from
their windows. The spicy aroma of exotic foods filled the air. Reba worked
as a midwife and told fortunes for her Cuban neighbors. Bo's boss at the
garage said he was the best mechanic he'd ever hired. The two of them
walked to the beach almost every night and made love in the sand.
And then one day she learned about Edward Bonner's experiments.
 Reba, Reba."
Reba looked up as Anna Quesada, who lived in the apartment across the
hall, ran into her kitchen holding a newspaper.
 Look at this."
Reba glanced at the page.  I don't read my own language very good, I
sure can't read yours," she said.
 It say a professor, this Doctor Edward Bonner, he is looking for people
with psychic ability."
 What's psychic ability?" Reba asked.
 It's what you got," Anna had said.  And he's interviewing people at the
big hotel."
 What's that got to do with me?" Reba asked.
 You go. Maybe this crazy professor, he pay good," the ebullient Anna
had said.  But you don't do nothing without money, you got that? Tell him
you're a professional. If he want a reading, he got to pay like everybody
else."
Anna had accompanied her to the hotel, but had to stay behind when
the battery of tests began. And Anna had been disappointed when Reba
told her she would not know the results of the test for a while and, worse,
that she had not been paid for her trouble. But two months later, when
Reba was notified that she had been selected as one of the subjects and
was asked to attend Bonner's conference on a tropical island, Anna Quesada
and nearly all the other women on the block were ecstatic.
Bo, too, had been happy for her. They had little money and Reba was
still depressed after yet another miscarriage, so he encouraged her to go.
He even bought her a Kodak camera.
On the small island that they reached by boat, Reba had met her own
kind. It went beyond how people dressed or talked or who their friends
were. There was one boy, she remembered, black as coal, with his hair
standing straight up on end. He was the first black person she had ever
spoken to. And Jamie, the youngster. He was special.
But the people she got closest to were a wealthy young pair of doctors
from Canada, Lars and Marie Nowar. They had both had the Sight in strong
measure and they knew, without being told, that Reba had lost her babies.
 The last one went six months," Reba had said.  We was going to name
him Sam, after my grandpa."
The seventeen on the island with Doctor Bonner all had the Sight. Some,
like Reba and the Nowars, were comfortable with it. Others behaved as if
the session on the island were some sort of joke. But still the air was charged
with their presence, and they could all feel it. They were like family. Reba
took pictures of all of them.
 He don't like having the Sight," she said of the tall young black man as
she snapped his photograph.
Marie Nowar had smiled.  Who does?"


After some time, Reba got up from the kitchen table and took a dusty
photo album from its place beneath the stairs. She dried her eyes as she
opened the stiff yellowed pages, past the photographs of her youth: her
Gram eating cotton candy at the county fair, her cousins in a photo booth,
making faces. A few pages later, she found the photo of the wild-looking
African boy who talked like a college professor and hadn't wanted to admit
he had the Sight. She smiled. He turned out to be right handy, though. Back
on that island, he had rigged up five showers out of some tubing and twine
so that everybody could get clean at high tide. Reba remembered thinking
that he and Bo could set up one hell of a garage together.
He had written his name beneath his picture. Reba went over the letters
painstakingly. Har . . . Harrison Wood, yes, that was it. Harrison Wood,
Junior. She wondered if he had lived.
She shook her head. Of course he hadn't. None of them had lived, except
Reba herself. Not Harrison Wood, not Jamie, not even Bo, who wasn't even
a part of things.
Here were the Nowars. She took their picture out of its yellowed plastic
sleeve and studied.
Months later, when they were nearing the end of the their trips to the
island, Lars Nowar had told Reba,  We're going to name our baby Sam."
 Sam . . ."
 For you," the pregnant Marie Nowar had said, taking Reba's hand.
Two fat tears dripped onto the plastic sheet covering the picture. Reba
wiped them away with her arm. All of them dead, a sea of blood and tears
later, all dead.
Except for the baby. He had lived.
Go find him, Reba, honey. He needs you.
Reba slammed the photo album shut.  I don't know where he is," she
shouted irritably.
Listen. Listen deep. You'll find him.
She sprawled on the bare floor, clutching her head, wishing with all her
soul that her grandmother's voice and its attendant pain would go away.
 Oh, God. God." She rested her head on her arms.  What I am supposed
to do with him?" she whispered finally.
Lead him, Reba. Lead him to the place he's got to be. Lead him and the
rest will come, too.
 What rest? They're all dead but him."
There are new ones now, Gram said.
Reba opened and closed her eyes slowly. Gram's voice faded. The floor
was cold but Reba was too tired to stand up. She shuddered. A strand of
gray hair fell over her nose, tickling, but she did not move it. She fell asleep
where she lay and did not awaken until the next nightmare.

chapter 8	.
SAM OPENED HIS EYES   SAW Doctor ALTHORPE'S FACE. TWO HECTIC DABS
of color brightened her cheeks and her eyes were large and frightened. Her
hands, on his again, were warm and dry and comforting. The searing pain
in his head had disappeared.
 It's gone," he said.
 I know."
They sat silently, looking at each other, as if each of them were drawn
into the other's gaze. Finally Cory broke away.
 We know so little about telepathy," she said hesitantly.   What you . . .
we . . . were hearing might have been anything. A radio transmission per 
haps. Some people even pick up sound waves through their dental work."
Sam looked away.  Yeah. That must be it."
 Did you recognize the voice?"
 No."
That was what made it so weird. It hadn't been Her voice he'd heard.
That twangy, raspy drawl sounded nothing like the siren who had called
to him from the Peaks.
So now there were two voices that spoke to Sam. Great, he thought.
That's just great.
 How do you feel?" the doctor asked.
 Tired."
Doctor Althorpe rose.  Sam, I'd like to-"
 No other doctors," he snapped.
 But . . ."
He grabbed her wrist.  I've got my walking papers, remember? I'm not
going to be put on exhibit like some dancing chicken."
She looked down to where he was touching her. Sam released her wrist.
 I'm sorry," he said.
 Don't let go"." She held his hand between her own.  Do you hear it?"SamM  listened. There was the beat of her pulse, deep and even. And then,
hypnotic, sweet music that had come
 binding


 It's in you, too," he whispered in astonishment.
 Have you heard this before?"
 Yes, but I always thought . . . that is   . I thought it was a person. Or
something."
So the sea siren had not been for Sam alone. The psychiatrist heard Her,
too.
 It might be anything," Cory said. She grinned.  I'm going to think of
something, Sam, and I want you to tell me what it is."
 Oh, man. Not another test."
 Just try, all right? I'm picturing a shape. What is it?"
 A triangle," Sam said flatly.
 Yes!" She squeezed his hand.  How about now?"
 A star."
 Right again. Here's something new."
He hesitated.  The name Otto."
 My God." A frown appeared between her gray eyes.
 Who's Otto?"
 My cousin," she said.
 No, he's not."
She laughed.  You tell me, then."
His fixed his eyes on hers.  Doctor Krantz. Otto must be his first name."
 That's amazing."
 I told you. No more doctors."
 Cory was silent for a moment.  All right," she said.  Have you always
been able to read minds?"
 No. Never," he said honestly.  Yesterday the volcano. A vision. I've
always had some sort of visions. But I've never gone into anybody's mind
before. Those cards you tested me with. You looked at them and I saw the
pictures the same time you did."
 And you answered them all wrong," she said.  Deliberately."
 I was afraid. I'm afraid now, if you want to know the truth."
He stood up, but Cory did not let go of his hand. It was getting hard for
him to breathe.
Cory inhaled sharply.  I feel as if I'm drunk," she said.
 Me too." Sam moved closer to her, so close that he could feel the heat
from her body.
The music grew louder, enveloping them both. He touched her lips with
his own, feeling her warmth fill him.
Suddenly she drew back, releasing his hand.  I'm sorry," she whispered,
blushing wildly.  I don't know what "
A buzz from the intercom made them both jump.  Yes, what is it?" she
snapped into the machine, grateful for the intrusion.
 There's a man here who wants to see you, Doctor. He won't give his
name but he's excuse me sir!"
The door burst open. Darian McCabe strode in like some ancient pharaoh.
Doctor Althorpe's secretary peered from behind him, looking exasperated.
 What are you doing with him?" he demanded.
Cory flushed a deep red.  We were . . ." Her voice came out high and
squeaky. She cleared her throat.  May I ask who you are?"


 Genghis Khan," Sam said.
 I got here as soon as I could. 
 Guess you did," Sam said, still reeling inside.  Doctor Althorpe, this is my
partner, Darian McCabe."
Darian didn't acknowledge her.  When the nurse said you went down
for tests, I thought they'd be poking you full of holes." He looked around
the office suspiciously.
 They did."
 Actually," Cory said pleasantly,  the results of Mister Smith's bloodwork
were unusual. I was testing to see if there was a correlation between his
blood and . . . well   . a certain psychic ability he appears to possess."
 That night?" Darian asked, the corners of his mouth turned down in a
snarl.
Sam shrugged.  Whatever. I don't know."
McCabe picked up the Zener cards from her desk.  You using these?"
 They're only for " she began.
 I know what they're for," Darian interrupted her.
 What exactly is it to you anyway, Darian?" Sam growled.  What are you
doing here? You could have waited up in my room."
Darian ignored the questions.  You feeling all right?"
 I'm fine."
 When can you leave?"
 Any time I want."
Cory held her hands together.  We were rather hoping, Mister Smith, that
you might be able to stay for a few more days."
Sam's head snapped toward her.  For blood? Is that what this was all
about?"
 No." She pleaded with her eyes.  For what we discovered today."
 What was that?" Darian demanded.  More phony baloney voodoo horse 
feathers?" He turned to Sam.  Guy at the museum's got the piece you found,"
he said.  He wants to talk to us about it. You can come if you want." He
strode toward the door.
 Sam, listen to me," Cory whispered.
Sam shook his head.  I've got to hand it to you, Doc. Even when I picked
out Krantz's name, I didn't know what you were getting at. You're smooth.
Real smooth." He followed after McCabe.
Cory caught up to them at the elevator.
 I apologize for what happened between us," she said, ashamed to look
Sam in the eye,  but that didn't have anything to do with the telepathy
experiment. Your ability ought to be explored for your own sake. No
blood need be taken from you. I'll see to that myself. If you don't want to
work with me, I'll find you another psychiatrist a specialist in ESP.   ."
 Don't bother," he said and touched her arm. For a moment, they both
heard the music again, faint but distinct. It took an effort of will for Sam to
pull his hand away.
 Sam, please . . ."
 I don't want it, understand? I don't want doctors nosing around inside
my head. Just tell Krantz his plan didn't work."
 He had nothing to do with this," she said.


 No? If I offered you a couple of gallons of my blood, though, I bet you'd
take it." He stepped into the elevator as its doors opened.
 What about the voice?" she called after him.
Sam smiled.  Like you said. It could have been anything."
The elevator doors closed after the two men.
She walked slowly back to her office.
 Where's the narcosis patient?"
She raised her eyes to Doctor Krantz's scowling face.
 He left," she said.
 You were supposed to keep him here! We need to do more testing. His
blood . . ."
 We had no right to keep him here against his will. His condition had
abated. I released him."
Krantz glared at her.  You are an idiot," he spat. He walked angrily away
from her.  Stupid woman," he muttered.
Cory turned back to look at the flat black closed doors of the elevator.
Who was e, she thought. Who was this stranger who could see into her
very thoughts?
And yet he wasn't really a stranger, was he?
For a moment, there had been something real between them, some connection that went deeper even than telepathy.
She remembered the music. It had come from him, of course; that was
part of Sam Smith's psychic makeup. And yet when she first heard it, the
music had seemed to well up from some distant place deep within herself.
Closing her eyes, straining to hear the forgotten melody again, she
touched her lips and felt the stranger's kiss on them still.

Book two.

THE
GATHERING.
Aidon Saint James finished first.
His son, Liam, was twelve laps behind and gasping.
Liam's tubular, unmuscled arms flailed in the water, slap 
ping the surface with each stroke like logs falling on the
surface.
Aidon pulled himself out of the pool effortlessly and
dried off with a towel of the finest Egyptian cotton, embroi 
dered with the name of his yacht, the Pinnacle. Twenty 
five feet below the deck on which he stood, the wake of the
140-foot boat churned white, making waves that sent lesser
craft fleeing toward shore like bugs scurrying out of the
path of an elephant.
Off to port, the pink mirrored glass of the Saint James
Tower glittered like a jewel on the Miami skyline.
It was his. It was all his, anything he wanted, anywhere
he wanted it. Aidon Saint James always got what he wanted.
 Dad   ." The boy was treading water in the middle of the yacht's swimming
pool.
 Get your face back in the water!"
Liam obeyed.
The boy was a slug, Aidon thought with disgust, an accident of birth, a genetic
tragedy. Aidon himself had always been an athlete hurdles, sculling team at
Harvard, an Olympic skier. Even now, at forty-three, hisbody was strong and taut,
the muscles chiseled, the abdomen as rippled as a tiger's shoulders. Women still
melted in his presence, even on those rare occasions when they didn't know who
he was.
Time magazine had called him a combination of Gary Grant, J. Paul Getty,
and Attila the Hun. That combination of good looks, financial wizardry, and an
instinct for the jugular was what made a winner, and Aidon Saint James was definitely
a winner. He had started with the three million his father left him and parlayed it
into ten million by the time he was twenty-five. On his last birthday, his worth was
counted in the billions.
 Dad, I can't.   "
Aidon stared blankly at Liam until the boy got moving again.
And this was his legacy, He thought, shaking his head sadly. This bloated, pimple 
faced sixteen-year-old dolt with the fortitude of rice pudding. And an only child to
boot.
 Pitiful,  Aidon muttered.
The pool side phone rang. It came as a relief. With luck, it would be something
urgent and he could send Liam back to school. The boy had been with him now for
nearly two months, and Aidon was beginning to loathe the sight of him.
 Yes, " he said softly into the mouthpiece.
He listened without expression to the voice on the other end.  How big is it?" he
finally asked. He shifted the phone to his other ear.  Yes. I'm just off Miami. Get a
photograph and fax it to me. "
He hung up without saying good-bye. Not urgent, but interesting nevertheless.
Interesting enough to take his mind off the lumpen mass that was his son and heir.
 Forty-five laps, Dad. " Liam was climbing up the pool ladder, his fat little arms


quivering with the strain of the swim, his broad belly as smooth and shapeless as
the underside of a fish.
 We agreed on fifty, son. Fifty laps. "
 I'll try again tomorrow. " The teenager shambled toward a stack of towels. His
feet pointed outward when he walked. His wet footprints looked like a duck's. His
shoulders hunched over. There was acne on them.
 You disgust me, " Aidon said. He turned away. Then, before his mind had even
completed the thought, he whirled in a complete circle and tossed the boy back into
the water.
Liam landed with a shriek and a colossal splash.
 Fifty, " his father said. He picked up the phone and rang the captain.  Head
for Jupiter Inlet. We might be laying over there."
Liam was still sputtering and coughing in the pool. He shot his father a look of
anger and hurt.
 Fifty. Or are we going to fight over it?"
Liam stared a moment longer, then thrust his face in the water and began
swimming.
 I didn't think so, " Aidon said.
Aidon Saint James always got what he wanted.

book two

chapter 1.

HARRY WOODSON HELD THE PENDANT ON THE SQUARE OF BLACK VELVET.
 It's a diamond," he said.
Darian sucked in his breath.  Pretty big," he said.
Woodson smiled.  At nine hundred thirty-four carats and flawless, it's
the biggest cut diamond in the world. Or so the lab says." He set it down
on the low table before Sam and Darian. The stone and chain had been
cleaned, and both sparkled with an almost unearthly brilliance.
 How much do you think it's worth?" Darian asked.
The black man shrugged.  I wouldn't know. Some stones great stones,
I guess you'd call them can be worth as much as five hundred dollars a
carat in the rough."
Darian whistled.  But this stone isn't rough. So it'd be worth more, right?"
 Got me. The mineralogists here were all going on about how it's been
cut."
 How's that?"
 Strangely, I gather. It's supposed to have more facets or something. A
couple of them seemed to think the stone's been ruined."
 Ruined?" McCabe said suspiciously.  Just look at the thing."
 Mister. McCabe, this is a museum of oceanography, not a jewelry exchange,"
Woodson said crankily.  I don't know how much money you can get for
the stone, and frankly I don't care. My interest is determining where it came
from and how old the piece is."
 How old is it?" Sam asked.
 I don't know. A diamond can't be carbon-dated. Neither can gold. What
we tried to date was the vegetable matter encrusted on the stone, but there
wasn't too much of that left."
 So? What'd you find?"
 As I said, there wasn't much to work with. The tests may have been in
error."
 Damn it, Woodson, say what you got to say," Darian barked impatiently.
Woodson sighed.  The preliminary tests which, I repeat, are inconclusive seem to indicate that the material around the stone was . . . well, it
seems incredible, but more than ten thousand years old."


 I knew it," Sam said softly.
 Ten thousand years," Darian growled.  You're talking about the Stone
Age."
 I know. That's why I sent for an expert in ancient jewelry. He examined
the stone this morning and wanted to check some books. He'll be back in
a few minutes."
Sam tried to hide his excitement.  What if it's true?" he asked.
 Its age? Well, it might be a find of great importance."
 Important enough for the museum to underwrite a dive?"
Woodson looked up from the stone.  Perhaps," he said cautiously.
 I'd have to be in charge of the diving team."
Woodson tried to hide a smile.
 I know where it is," Sam said,  and I know there's more down there."
 Like what? Did you see something else?" Woodson asked.
 You're not going down there again," Darian interrupted.
Woodson looked up at the big man, surprised.
 You have to let me head the dive," Sam said, pointedly ignoring the
old man.
 It's really rather early for " Woodson began when his secretary entered
the room.  Mister. Eames, sir," she announced.
She was followed by a lanky young man with a shock of brown hair and
owlish eyeglasses.  Nathan Eames," the gemologist said, shaking hands all
around. He was sweating profusely, despite the chilly air-conditioning in
Woodson's office.  Sorry I was delayed. I was on the phone with my office."
He looked down at the pendant.  It's really an incredible find. An incredible
stone."
 Is it old?" Sam asked.
 The stone?" Eames said and shrugged.  Well, all diamonds are millions
of years old."
 The jewelry. The piece itself," Sam insisted.
 I can't tell you that," Eames said. He wiped his sweaty brow with a
wrinkled handkerchief.  The problem is the cut of the stone. Or rather, the
fact that it has been cut at all. You see, before the seventeenth century,
diamonds weren't cut. They were polished."
Darian chuckled.  Modern. I knew it. Some heiress dropped it off her
yacht during a drunken party."
 Maybe," Eames said affably,  although I can't imagine any modern jeweler cutting a stone this way."
 What way?" Sam asked.  Now that it's cleaned up, it looks like a dia 
mond."
Eames pointed a finger at the stone.  Two things make  it unlike any
major stone I've ever seen. One is the shape. Its widest point is well above
the center. Then it tapers to an almost daggerlike point."
Darian puffed out his lips, bored.
 The second," Eames went on,  is the number of facets. Sixteen. Eight
tapering toward the top, eight toward the bottom."
 So what?" Darian said.
 Most diamonds are cut with fifty-eight facets. Oh, maybe some small


piece of junk might be cut with fewer, but no jeweler would do that to a
gem of this size and this quality."
 Maybe he was just a lousy jeweler," Darian said.
 Then he wouldn't have been able to cut it at all. Not into this perfect
shape." Eames shrugged again.  It's just a puzzle."
 What about the gold work?" Woodson asked.  It looked almost Mycen 
ean to me."
Eames smiled ruefully.  A lot of things look almost Mycenean, including
art deco that was done yesterday." He touched the cross-within-the-circle
design on the bale of the necklace.  This gold could have been worked
yesterday. Or a thousand years ago."
 Or ten thousand?" Sam said.
Eames laughed.  That's stretching it. They didn't even have the wheel
ten thousand years ago. I don't think they had diamond cutters and jewelry
makers."
Sam looked at Woodson.  Some of the material on the stone was dated
that old," the young man said.
Eames answered,  It happens a lot. A piece gets in the sea. Some algae
calcifies around it and then the algae happens to stick to a piece of coral
or something that's much older, and it messes up the tests. I saw it once
with a French cameo found near a wreck. The material was dated to be
almost two thousand years ago. But the cameo had Louis the Fourteenth's
picture on it. So much for dating."
He smiled triumphantly. Sam looked crestfallen; Darian was indifferent.
Woodson was frowning, distracted.
 Then we're not looking at a piece from an ancient civilization," the
curator said.
 I doubt it very much." Eames lifted the pendant.  But we are looking
at a great stone of immense value. Any major jeweler would buy it in a
heartbeat." He fondled the stone, almost lovingly.
 And do what?" Sam asked.
 Recut it, certainly. And probably break it into smaller stones. There's
virtually no market for a stone this huge. Not unless some monarchy is
designing crown jewels."
He put the pendant back onto the velvet pad.  I want to thank you for
letting me see this. I've already taken the liberty of testing the commercial
waters, as it were, to see who might be interested in buying such an amazing
stone. Later, if you need advice on its sale, please let me know."
He shook hands all around again, then left.
 The three men stood in silence. A ray of sunlight landed on the pendant
and set flashes blazing out of the great stone.
Sam picked it up. A faint greenish cast infused its pure clarity, then
deepened into a luminescent glow. He passed it to Darian. The glow dimmed
slightly, but remained. McCabe passed it on to Woodson, who held it in
two cupped hands. Its eerie light reflected off the curator's dark face.
 Eames touched it," Sam said,  and nothing happened."
 Don't ask me why," Woodson said.  The mineralogists found nothing.
Scientifically, there is nothing unusual about this stone."
 Except that it glows for us," Sam finished.
Sam and Woodson's eyes met and held. Finally Darian snatched the stone
from the curator's hands and tossed it back on its velvet bed where it again
sparkled, clear as water.
 There's something else you should consider." Woodson limped to his
desk and brought back a glassine envelope containing the pottery shard
Darian had given him along with the pendant.
 This we were able to carbon-date without question," Woodson said.
 And?"
Woodson's face was taut.  It was made thirteen thousand years ago."
A puff of air escaped Sam's lips.
 The lab's rechecking the tests, but if they're accurate, these two pieces
together might just might be enough to mount the exploration you were
talking about. As to your heading it, Mister Smith. . . ."
 He's not going," Darian said.
 Stay out of this, Darian!"
Woodson cleared his throat.  We'd need somebody to direct us to where
the pieces were found."
 They weren't found in the same place," Darian growled sourly.
Sam shook his head.  That doesn't matter. They belong together. I know
it. And there's more. There has to be "
 You found the damn shard on a beach," Darian shouted over him,
 Is that true?" Woodson asked Sam, his face suddenly blank.
 Yeah. But it came from the same place as the pendant."
Woodson raised an eyebrow.  May I ask how you know that?"
 He don't know nothing," Darian said.  He just wants to go back to the
Peaks."
Sam turned his hands palm up as he spoke to Woodson.  Look. I know
there's something else down there because . . ." He ran his hands over his
face.  Because I have a sense about things. Now I know you're going to
think I'm a wacko, but I'm going to tell you anyway. When I found this
piece of pottery, it sang to me."
 It what?"
 Oh, for chrissake," Darian muttered.
 I knew where it came from then because I'd heard the same music
before, when I was diving the Peaks."
 Music," Woodson said flatly.
 Yes, music. And the deeper I went, the stronger the music got, un 
til . . ."
 Until what?"
 Until he went crazy," Darian said,  and started seeing moving pictures.
Enough is enough, Sam. When I pulled you up, the Rapture already had
you so bad you'd ripped out your own mouthpiece. Let's go."
Sam turned his face away. The curator felt sorry for him.  I understand,"
Woodson said.  I've been down deep, too."
Sam stood up.  Yeah."
 What about the diamond?" Darian asked.


 I wish you'd leave it here for more tests. After that, you can have it
transferred to a bank or a jeweler. Whatever you'd like."
Darian nodded and walked toward the door. Sam followed him dispirit 
edly, then turned and said,  It glows for us. For all three of us. Explain that
away."
Out in the hallway, he heard Woodson call his name. Sam waited as the
man limped over. Darian had already started down the long curved staircase
toward the museum's entrance.
 When you were down there, what did you see?" the black man asked
softly.
 Would it make any difference?"
Woodson's eyes crinkled.  I don't know. Try me."
 I saw a volcano," Sam said, then turned and followed Darian down the
steps 

CHAPTER2.

THANKS, DARIAN," SAM SAID BITTERLY AS HE SLAMMED THE DOOR OF THE
ancient Ford pickup truck and started up the engine.  Thanks a whole lot."
The old man grunted and adjusted himself among the debris on the seat.
 Didn't say nothing that wasn't true."
 Just that I was crazy."
 Like I said." Darian chortled.
Red-faced, Sam wiped the grime from the rear view mirror with his sleeve,
pulled out of the parking spot, and slid into traffic headed for Route 1, back
to Jupiter Inlet. Through the nearly opaque side mirror, he could make out
the shape of a black four-by-four behind him.
 Woodson could have arranged a dive," Sam said.
 In the Peaks."
 Yes, damn it, in the Peaks. People have gone down there before."
 Most of  em ain't come back up."
 Darian, this would have been a museum-sponsored exploration, with
dive teams and underwater communications. Good lights, film, auxiliary
air . . ."
 Don't make no difference," Darian said stolidly.
Sam looked up at the rear view mirror. The black four-by-four still trailed
him. It was a Range Rover. As Sam veered his small truck up the ramp onto
the highway, the driver stayed right on his tail, only a few yards away.
Sam rolled down the window and signaled the trailing driver to pass,
but the Range Rover held its position.
 M D. plates," Sam mumbled.  You must have to take a driving test to
get into medical school. If you pass it, they throw you out."
Darian looked out the back window.  I seen  em dive, too. Same way."
 And fly. You know all those small planes that are always crashing?
Doctors. I guess they figure . . ."
He glanced to his side. The Range Rover was pulling up alongside him.
Sam again waved him ahead.  Go on, Doc, pass," he mumbled.  I'd like
you better in front of me."
The Range Rover did not pass. The driver turned his head toward Sam
and stared.

 Hey, I know him," Sam said.  That's the blood doctor at the hospital.
His name's Krantz, I think. He wanted me to stay so "
Krantz raised his right arm. There was a gun in his hand.
 Get down!" Sam yelled.
The bullet pinged through both the driver and passenger side windows.
When Sam slammed on the brakes, another shot ripped past the front of
the truck. He spun the wheel and the truck skidded off onto the soft sandy
shoulder. The Range Rover pulled off onto the berm, then began to back
up.
 Jesus, this guy's just not going to quit," Sam said as he jerked the truck
forward again. He thought he was clear when the doctor caught up and
stayed with him, the front wheels of their vehicles almost touching. Krantz
took aim once again, amid a din of horns as traffic eddied around the two
vehicles.
Finally Sam jumped on his brakes in a panic stop, and the Range Rover
skidded on by. Sam saw Krantz's face as the doctor turned in the seat and
raised the gun again. Krantz pulled off the shot, missed the truck entirely,
then craned backward in the seat. He had both hands on the gun now,
ignoring the steering wheel. The last bullet hit the truck's windscreen almost
dead center, between Sam and Darian, and then the Range Rover crashed
through the metal guardrail and soared off the embankment down toward
the ocean. It landed on two wheels, then tipped and rolled on the rock and
shell-strewn shore before finally coming to a stop lying on its passenger
side.
Sam pulled up the handbrake and got out of the truck. The shoulder of
the road was already packed with parked cars, and several people were
running toward the Range Rover. Sam and Darian climbed over the guard
rail and were picking their way down the rocks of the embankment when
they heard another shot. As Sam rushed forward, he saw a woman screaming
near the wreckage. The other people clustered around Krantz's vehicle were
drawn back, their faces registering shock.
 I called the police on my car phone," one of the men volunteered when
Sam approached.  I think you'd better wait for them."
Inside the Range Rover lay the doctor, his arms tangled in the steering
wheel. The top of his head was blown off. The gun was still in his mouth.
Darian loped up behind Sam.  What in the hell was he doing?" he whispered.
 You tell me," Sam said.
He barely heard the police officer during the questioning that followed.
 You know him?"
 He was a doctor at West Palm Hospital. I was being treated there."
 Any reason he might want to go after you?"
Sam shrugged, numb.
 Where were you coming from?"
 The Ocean ographic Museum."
 And you didn't see him until you were on the Coastal?"

 No. Well, I saw his car following me. I didn't think anything. It all
happened pretty fast."
The police officer came into focus. He was writing down Sam's answers.
Darian stood nearby.
 We'll check this out," the policeman said.  Not your typical highway
gunman, though. Had all his ID on him."
 Why would he want to kill me?"
The officer made a helpless gesture.  Could be he just snapped."
 Snapped . . ."
Sam! Samsamsamsamsamsam
Sam bent forward, his face wreathed in pain.
 You okay?" the officer asked as Darian stepped forward to take Sam's
arm.
Sam breathed deeply a few times, then nodded.  Headache."
 Nerves, maybe. It happens."
 Yeah."
The officer gave him a sympathetic smile.  Hey, take it easy." He put a
hand on Sam's shoulder.  You were lucky. The guy was a rotten shot."
chapter 3.

Sami"
The scream came from everywhere, everywhere in the world, it seemed.
Reba awoke on the scarred linoleum floor of her kitchen. She sat up,
blinking rapidly, her heartbeat gradually slowing to normal. She smoothed
away a limp strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes. Gray hair. She was
old. And Bo, the only man in her life, was gone, long dead.
So it had been a dream, then. A dream of a dream.
The dream.
She had first dreamed it twenty-nine years ago. The terror had never left
her because the dream had been real. The voices of those who would die
had called to her in her sleep, called to her for help, but she had been able
to help only one.
The baby.
His mother had spoken his name at the moment of her death, willing
him out of her womb, and Reba had heard her.
 Sam . . ."
Bo had worked late the night before and was sleeping in their West Palm
Beach apartment when Reba ran into the room.
 Bo, wake up! You got to wake up!"
He had opened his eyes instantly, the way he always did, without a trace
of fogginess or confusion.  What is it, angel girl?"
 Voices   ." She was shaking all over with fear.
Bo propped himself on an elbow.  Your Gram?"
She shook her head.  No. Lots of voices, all at once, all calling for help.
Oh, Bo, how they was carrying on!"
Bo cleared his throat. He had never doubted Reba's gift. Every family in
Stony Holler had called upon Reba and her grandmother at one time or
another.  I don't know what it could be, honey," he said gently.  Your
friends got out to Memory Island okay. I seen the boat at the dock this
morning, back safe and sound."

 Then it's not them," Reba said, relieved. She lay back on the bed.  I
should have gone with them."
 Why didn't you?"
 Gram," she said.
The previous morning, Reba had been dressed in her best and waiting
to go to the island with the other Rememberers when the message came.
Don't go, lamb, Gram's voice had said. You'll be needed here.
Without hesitation, Reba had obeyed. She wished everyone a nice trip,
especially young Jamie McCabe, who had looked as if he hadn't slept well.
She had hoped to see the Nowars, the young married couple from Canada.
They had left word with doctor  Bonner that they would be driving down for
the session, but Marie Nowar was nine months pregnant, and no one was
surprised that they didn't show up.
Reba had waved good-bye to everyone, and that had been that until
the next night, when the voices had started to shriek inside her head.
 Feel a little better now?" Bo asked.
Reba nodded. The terrifying howl had died away.
 Go to sleep." He kissed her, sweet and sleepy.
 All right, Bo. Guess it wasn't nothing. Indigestion, maybe." She fell
asleep in his arms.
And the dream continued.
Sam! It was a cry of anguish.
Reba's body jerked stiffly.  misses Nowar?" she asked. She snapped to a
sitting position. Bo awakened instantly.
 What is it, honey?" he asked.
 She's dying!" Reba shouted.  Guns, blood . . ." Reba thought she would
go crazy with the pain of it.  And the baby . . ." Bo held her tightly, and in
a moment Marie's voice was gone, too, replaced by a thin wail.
A different voice. There was fear in it, but not death. This was a scream
of life. New life.
 There's a baby, Bo," Reba said, suddenly dry-eyed.  His name is Sam.
He's calling to me now."
 Where . . ." Bo rubbed his hands over his face.  Where is he?"
She pointed out the window, overlooking the apartments outside.  That
way."
Two hours later, Bo's pickup was on an umarked road off Route 82, its
headlights illuminating strips of desolate swamp on either side. He squared
his shoulders and blinked to fend off sleep.
 Don't look like nobody's out here," he said carefully.
Reba sat like a statue beside him, her hands clasped together, the knuckles
white.
 Reba, are you sure . . ."
 I'm sure," she snapped.
In fact, she was not at all sure. For some time, she had heard the baby's
cry loud and clear, blessedly overshadowing the memory of those other,
unwelcome screams. But more than an hour ago it too had grown faint,
the small mewlings of cold and hunger, until by now she was not certain

whether she was hearing anything at all, or was simply remembering the
sound along with all the other spectral voices.
Apprehensively, she reached into a box she had prepared for the baby and
took out a bottle filled with breast milk from a young mother whose child she
had just delivered. Reba placed the bottle inside her dress, against her bosom,
to warm it. The baby would need food. If he was still alive.
 Oh, Gram," she muttered.  You told me not to go to the island  cause I was
needed, but that don't make me no magician." If her grandmother wanted her
to help the baby, she thought angrily, the old woman's spirit ought to give her
a little more help.
Bo looked over to her and smiled. This was her way of praying, he knew,
talking to her grandmother as if the woman were still alive and standing right
before her. If Reba were ever to live among strangers, she would be branded a
lunatic.
 So I'd surely appreciate it, Gram, if you'd let me know one way or t'other,
 cause this road's mighty long and dark and if you're tiny and
naked . . ."
Suddenly she was silent. She grasped Bo's arm and squeezed it hard, unable
to speak. To her right stretched a silvery path of light over the swamp grass, a
path of moonlight, except that there was no moon.
Bo brought the pickup to a halt, but even before it stopped she was out the
door, splashing through the marsh, running into the darkness.
 Bring the box," she yelled behind her as she followed a path that was
illuminated for her eyes alone.
 Reba, wait! I got the light. You'll get lost."
He stumbled out of the truck with the flashlight and the box of baby items
and ran after her as quickly as he could, but it was not until he heard Reba's
low moan that he was able to find her.
In the beam of the flashlight he saw her face, drawn with horror, and then
saw the two bodies lying in the fetid shallow water of the swamp. Their hands
had been bound. The man had been shot in the head at close range. The woman,
whose chest was covered with blood, was naked. Bo recognized her face from
one of Reba's island photographs. It was Marie Nowar.
She had lived longer than her husband; long enough for her assailants to rape
her, evidently. And then, after that, long enough to give birth to her son. Between
her legs, on a bed of matted reeds and the torn remnants of her dress, lay a
newborn infant, his unbilical cord still attached to his dead mother.
 It was them," Reba said numbly.  Marie and all the other Rememberers I
heard. All of them dead . . ."
Woodenly, Reba knelt in the mud and picked up the baby, pressing it against
her. Bo set the box on the ground, then took off his jacket and covered the child
with it.
 Is he alive?" he asked.
Reba crooked her head to nestle the baby's head against her neck.  I don't
know," she said. Then there was the tiniest movement of the baby's mouth.
 Get the knife from that box," she said, slipping the bottle of breast milk
between the baby's lips. The liquid spilled down his chin. Reba tapped the tiny
cheek with her finger.  Come on, Sam," she whispered.  That was what your

folks was going to name you, did you know that?" She held the infant closer.
 And the last breath your mama took carried your name to me."
Her tears dropped onto the baby's face, and she wiped them away tenderly.
 We ain't perfect, Bo and me, but we'll love you just as much as your own people
could. So you got to live, you hear?" She was sobbing.  Please live, Sam."
Sam swallowed his first mouthful, then began to suck instinctively, greedily.
Reba dried her eyes and smiled.  Cut the cord, Bo. Right about here. It won't
need no clamp. And get me that wool blanket. We got ourselves a baby to raise."
When Bo looked at her with concern, she held the baby closer.  We're his
family now."
Oh, God, how she had wanted it to be true. But the new family had not
even lasted till morning.
They had left the bodies in the swamp and driven back to West Palm Beach
with the baby. Bo was silent during the drive, but Reba spoke incessantly to
her grandmother, asking for a sign that it would be all right to keep Sam,
begging for a word of assurance.
There was none. Gram did not speak, not until the rest of that terrible
night had unfolded.
She had finally gotten little Sam to sleep in their bed and had gone out
into the small living room of the apartment to be with Bo. They sat on the
couch, side by side, holding hands, until there was a faint knock on the
door.
 Must be misses Quesada," Bo said as he got up to answer it. Their Cuban
neighbors were in the habit of visiting at all hours of the day and night.
A moment later, she heard a thud and ran toward the door. She saw Bo's
body lying on the floor, his throat cut, his stomach ripped open, and two
men with faces like statues moving toward her.
Wordlessly they came at her, their knives still red with Bo's blood. Before
she could even scream, they cut her bad, bad enough to die, and left her
lying there. The last thing she saw was her blood mingling with Bo's on
the slick linoleum floor. The last sound she heard was the creak of the door
closing behind her killers.
The last thing she thought was, They didn't find the baby.
She never knew how long she lay there. But she moved when she heard
Gram's voice again.
Get up, the old woman had ordered, and Reba had obeyed. Somehow
she had bandaged her wounds the wounds that she knew should have
killed her and then she took Sam out of the apartment on Sweetwater
Street with Bo's body still warm in it. She had traveled north, far north,
away from the forces that she understood now were seeking out the Remem 
berers one by one and killing them.
And then she had done the hardest thing: She had left Sam on the doorstep
of an orphanage in a strange, cold city because she feared those same dark
forces would one day come for them again. She abandoned him, leaving a
note that revealed only the baby's first name and date of birth, and hoped
that he would be safe.
It was all so long ago. She was an old woman now.

Yet nearly every time she slept, Reba still heard the dying cries of the
Rememberers in her dreams.
She shuffled across the kitchen, her legs stiff after sleeping on the cold
floor.  Land sakes," she muttered.  Sometimes I act like I don't got no brains
at all."
Reba had been back in Stony Holler, back living in this tar-paper shack,
for twenty-nine years. It was about time she stopped reliving the same night
over and over, a night which had taken place so far back in the past. She
sighed. She would if she could.
If she only could.
Outside the sun was setting, showing the rust on the old pickup truck.
Thirty-five years old and still running. Bo would have liked that, she thought.
And Gram was talking to her again.
 Did I do right, Gram?"
Yes, Reba.
 That was all so long ago."
Not so long. Things was waiting.
 Waiting for what?"
For Sam, child. For you.
 You don't make no sense," Reba said crossly. Her head hurt.
You got to get to him, honey. You got to show him the way.
 The way where, Gram?"
To where he got to go. Lead him, and the rest will follow.
Reba tried to speak, then shook her head.  This is just crazy," she mumbled.  Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe you ain't my Gram at all, just some crazy
voice a crazy old fool of a woman thinks is talking to her."
She listened, her chin jutting out defiantly, but the voice did not respond.
 Don't know what you're talking about, anyway."
No answer.
Sighing, Reba went to the kitchen sink and idly washed out a cup. She
caught a reflection of her face in the cracked mirror next to the cupboard.
 Old fool of a woman," she repeated.  Can't even read a map. How'm
I supposed to lead anybody anyplace?"
You'll know.
Reba set the cup down. Her hands were shaking.  I'm scared," she whis 
pered.  What they did to Bo   . to Marie and Lars Nowar   . to all of
them . . ." She swallowed.  They're going to kill me, too."
Her reflection looked back at her. She had aged badly. There were no
rounded cheeks to kiss, no broad lap for children to sit on. She looked like
what she was, a woman who had spent almost thirty years in absolute
solitude.
A long life.
Too long, maybe.
 What about Sam? If I find him, am I going to have to watch him die,
too?"
Lead him, Reba. The rest will follow.
She bent her head. The Sight had been a cruel gift. It had taken everything

from her and given nothing. And it was still taking. That was the purpose
of her life, Reba realized: to accommodate the Sight.
 Ain't never going to leave me alone, are you, Gram?" she asked grimly.
She packed a few belongings into an old valise, then felt beneath her
mattress for her money. A hundred eighteen dollars, accumulated over most
of a lifetime.
Stuffing the bills inside her dress, Reba walked out to the pickup. She
did not lock the door to her house. There was no point. She knew she
would never return.
Outside, the last of the sun hung red over the hills above Stony Holler.
Black clouds scurried overhead like flapping wings. A brief gust blew up,
and Reba shivered.
Like wings, yes. Something dark and ancient was folding itself around
her, spreading its black wings.
With a final glance at the tumbledown building where she had been born,
where she had lived as a bride and then grown old alone, Reba started the
engine of the pickup and headed in the direction of the first flock of birds
she saw.
 I'm coming, Sam," she whispered.  It's time."
chapter 4.

NATHAN EAMES ORDERED A RUM   TONIC FROM THE POOLSIDE ATTEndant and settled into his deck chair for some serious ogling. The best thing
about expensive hotels, he had decided, were the class of women who
stayed in them. They were pampered, sleek creatures, the late-model wives
of rich men who traded in their mates every fifty thousand miles. They wore
jewelry (which his expert eye generally regarded as tasteless but expensive
junk, orthodontically perfect smiles, doctor  Diamond noses, and thong bikinis.
Eames himself sported a hat, a wide-brimmed touristy straw that covered
the thinning spot on the back of his head, blue Speedos, and a pair of
Wayfarer-style prescription sunglasses. Slightly aloof, he told himself. That
was the look he was trying to cultivate. When his drink came, he signed
for it without acknowledging the waiter's presence, then raised the glass
in salute to a beautiful blonde in a tiger-striped bikini. She smiled back at
him.
God, he loved being rich.
He had never expected to make so much of himself. His father had been
a jeweler with a store in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn. Nathan became
one, too, although a degree in art history had given him a finer appreciation
of his work than his father possessed. Nathan Eames believed gems set in
finely worked gold to be the most beautiful objects on the planet. They
were the stuff of dreams, of an even higher order than fancy cars, sprawling
homes, and beautiful girls.
All of which he now had. At thirty-one, he had a house in La Jolla, a
much larger one in Switzerland about which the IRS knew nothing, and a
seven-thousand-foot villa in the Bahamas (also unreportable. His garages
held two Jaguars, a restored 1935 Mercedes-Benz, a Lamborghini, and a
utilitarian Porsche. His secret bank accounts held more than a million dollars,
and a safe-deposit box in a Cayman Islands bank contained precious stones
piled an inch deep.
He could have retired, except for one thing: The Consortium would not
let him. That was one of the conditions of his good fortune. He had to keep
working.

There were three conditions. The second was that he was to to keep his
involvement with the Consortium a secret.
Nathan Eames slugged down his drink in one draught. It burned going
down.
He did not like to think about the third condition.
The blonde in the tiger-striped bikini was kissing an old man who dyed
his hair red. Why did the old geezers always pick red?
Nathan shouted for the waiter to bring him another drink. He felt expansive and good today. Maybe now he would be permitted to retire. He had
found the stone that had been his special mission. He was sure of it. It
had certainly been described to him often enough: a clear, sword-shaped
diamond as long as a man's fist, hand-cut with sixteen perfect strokes.
Nathan had nearly wet his pants when he first saw it at the Ocean ographic
Museum. However rudely it had been cut, it was a masterpiece of nature.
Larger than the Niarchos, more perfect than the President Vargas, its beauty
had leaped out at him from its black velvet bed. He had had to remind
himself constantly not to act too excited about it.
Of course, the two bozos who  found" it a pair of thieves if ever thieves
had lived couldn't have known less about diamonds. Or about anything
else worth more than a dollar ninety-eight, from the looks of them. But it
wouldn't be the first time that a priceless jewel had changed hands through
dirty middlemen. Serious collectors did business with anyone who had a
stone. In these rarefied heights, ordinary rules of ethics did not apply.
This particular diamond, for example, had been well hidden. Nathan
believed that he knew of every stone of importance, ancient and modern,
since man first fell in love with gems and he had never heard of this stone.
He had been tempted to point this out to the Consortium when they first
told him what it was his mission to find. But he had known better than to
question them.
Finding that stone had been the reason Nathan Eames was invited to join
the Consortium in the first place. The man who had extended the invitation,
whose face Nathan had never seen, was his only contact.
At first Nathan had thought it all a joke, a prank arranged by a drunken
friend with time on his hands.
If you accept, your membership will be for life.
Sure, sure.
But they had delivered. That was the weird part. Before he had even
done anything for them, the offers had started coming in. A consulting job
in New York's diamond district where no one with a last name like Eames
had ever worked, the publication of an article on Egyptian scarabs in New
York magazine, an interview on the TV news after the theft of some Scyth 
ian goldwork, a permanent post heading the ancient jewelry department of
the Neumeyer Antiquities Museum. All before the age of twenty-nine.
Then the phone call.
 Are you pleased with the advancements in your career, Mister Eames?"
The voice was bland, unemotional, devoid of personality.
 What? Who is this?"

 I'm calling for the Consortium. We spoke six months ago. I suggest you
learn to recognize my voice."
This is some kind of nut, Nathan thought.  Oh, sure. Sure thing. Now if
you'll excuse me . . ."
 I won't call you often, Mister Eames. But when I do, you must listen."
 No, you must listen, pal. I don't know what you've been smoking, but
if you call here again, I'm going to get the cops after you." He hung up,
feeling righteous.
The next day he was fired from both the museum and the diamond district
job. No reason was given.
During the next few months, Nathan discovered that there was a limited
demand for experts on ancient jewelry. He went back to work for his father.
Immediately his father's business began to evaporate. When the store closed,
Nathan went to work clerking in a jewelry mill, specializing in engagement
rings with  genuine 25-point" diamonds, stones that were cloudy and flawed
with so many occlusions that, under a jeweler's loupe, they looked polka
dotted.
Six months to the day of his last conversation with the blank-voiced man
representing the Consortium, the telephone rang again.
 We can give it back to you," the voice said.
 Who   ." But he knew who it was. He would not make the same mistake
again.  Thank you," Nathan said.  Thank you for calling back. I didn't know
how to reach you."
 You never will, Mister Eames. And later, if you comply with the conditions
of membership in the Consortium, no one will be able to trace you either,
if you do not wish it."
 Okay. Whatever. I mean, I'll comply. Just help me get my museum job
back, okay?"
 We'll do better than that. If you meet the conditions of membership."
 Fine. I'll recognize your voice on the phone. I won't get snotty. I won't
ask questions about your . . . group."
 You will never mention the Consortium, or anything about it."
 Great. Not a word. Count on it."
 No to anyone. Not wife, not priest, not child. No one. If you do, we
will know about it."
Eames wanted to ask how they would know, but decided that the question
bordered on snotty and he did not want to take a chance on losing even
the rotten job he still held.
But he did not have to ask.  We will know because we have members
everywhere. They possess great wealth and great power. If word leaks out
about the Consortium, not one member will be affected because we are all
anonymous. But you will be dealt with."
Nathan laughed nervously.  What would you do? Kill me?"
 In the end, yes."
There was a silence on the phone.  What about before the end?"
 Don't find out, Mister Eames," the voice said.  Condition two. You will
work where we direct you. Rest assured, you will be highly compensated,
but you must work. It is your skills we are interested in."
 As an appraiser."

 As an expert in historical stones. There is a stone we want you to locate,
a large diamond of specific dimensions. It has not been seen in many years.
It may have been lost at sea. If it ever comes to light, we must know about
it. Pay special attention to ocean discoveries. That is your responsibility."
Nathan raised an eyebrow.  Well, I'll give it a try."
 Your very best try, Mister Eames. Finding that stone is your first and only
priority."
 What if I don't find it?"
 We hope you do," the voice said after the barest pause.  Now, the third
condition."
 I'm listening."
 Look outside your door. I will wait."
Putting the phone down, Nathan walked to the door of his apartment
and opened it. There was an envelope on the floor.
 I found a letter or something," he said into the phone.
 Open it, please."
Inside was a name and address.  George Westerman? I don't know him,"
Nathan said.
 No. You are to go to his residence tonight."
Nathan checked his watch. Ten after ten.  It's pretty late," he said.  Not
to mention the fact that I don't even know this guy. What should I say to
him?"
 You don't have to speak to him. You'll find the keys to his apartment
in your mailbox downstairs. We've made it easy for you this time."
 Okay. So I'll have a key. Still, don't you think it might cause old George
the tiniest bit of apprehension to see a total stranger standing in his living
room in the middle of the night? What am I supposed to be doing there?"
The man's voice was quiet.  You are to kill him, Mister Eames."
Nathan stared blankly at the wall.
 You may choose whatever method you like, but I would recommend
putting a pillow over his face. Mister Westerman has been a semi-invalid for
several years. He won't offer much resistance."
Nathan coughed weakly.  You're kidding, right?"
 No. Do you have any other questions?"
 Yeah. What kind of crackpot are you? I was beginning to take you
seriously."
 Your father will be dead by morning," the voice said.  Good-bye."
 Hey! Hey, wait!" Nathan jiggled the receiver, but the caller had hung
up.
He'd been an idiot, he decided, slamming down the phone. He had
become so desperate that he had been willing to believe anyone who would
give him a lick of hope. Nathan poured himself a straight scotch and decided
that his luck was just bad. People like to think there is always a logical
reason for bad things happening, but there often is not. There's just bad
luck or bad karma or bad breaks.
Or, he thought with a chill, a band of murderous millionaires called the
Consortium.
When the phone rang again, he spilled his drink.
 Nathan." It was his mother. She was hysterical.

 Oh, God. Dad?"
 What? No, we're all right, but the police just left. The most horrible
thing. A bullet came right through the window. From down on the street.
It was just a miracle we weren't hit. Oh, Nathan   ."
 Mom, it's all right." His stomach was cramping. He could taste his own
bile.  Did the police do anything?"
 They said there was nothing they could do."
 Is Dad okay?"
 Depressed, but he's always depressed. Nathan, you have to find him a
job. It would help him a lot."
 I'll try. I'll talk to you tomorrow," Nathan said. He hung up and the
phone rang again while his hand was still on the receiver.
 What, Mom?" he asked.
 Changed your mind, Mister Eames?" the bland voice inquired.
 What kind of monster are you?" Nathan asked numbly.
 We," the voice corrected.  You agreed to join us a year ago, remember?
I told you then that your membership would be for life."
 I thought it was a joke." Nathan sobbed.
 It wasn't. Neither was the incident at your parents" home."
 Don't touch them!"
 That's up to you."
 You didn't say anything about killing people."
 Don't think of them as people, Mister Eames. It won't be personal. The
target you've been given is a stranger to you."
 Target?" Nathan shouted, his voice breaking.  Are you all killers, or
what?"
There was no response.
 Are you?" he asked at last, needing to know.  Are you all killers?"
 We," the voice corrected again.  We all pay dues. Yes." The voice was
silent for a moment. Nathan picked up his drink. His tears dropped into
the scotch.
 Now for the next ten minutes there will not be a patrol car within sixteen
blocks of your parents" apartment," the calm voice went on.  I strongly
urge you to leave for Mister Westerman's in no more than nine minutes. Try
very hard."
Then the line went dead.
Nathan sat clutching his abdomen, alternately sobbing and cursing.
Finally, with a small cry of despair, he stumbled out the door. A set of keys
was in his mailbox, just as the voice had told him. Nathan put them in his
pocket and walked out onto the street, feeling the air sting his wet cheeks.
there was an air of unreality about the city as he rode the subway down 
town. The colors around him were too bright, the odors too sharp.  Please
let this not be real," he whispered over and over in a kind of chant.
But it was real. George Westerman lived in an old but pleasant-looking
brick building in the West Village. One of the keys fit the outer lock perfectly.
Westerman's mailbox had a business card taped to it. It read:

GEORGE C. WESTERMAN
HEALER/READER
TAROT CARDS
ASTROLOGY
CHANNELING
Nathan hesitated at the bottom of the stairway for several minutes. How
could he even consider killing a perfect stranger this way?
But how could he not consider it? His parents" lives were at stake. And
maybe his own future.
It won't be personal. The target is a stranger to you.
The target. It made things easier to think of him   . it   . as  the target."
The target was an invalid.
And probably a New Age weirdo.
No big loss, right? he told himself.
Nathan walked upstairs to 3B and turned the key.
The target was asleep. Nathan sneaked into the darkened room on tiptoe,
sweating so hard he was sure he was leaving puddles behind with every
step. Every few seconds, he was seized with waves of panic. What was he
doing here?
I'm paying my dues.
Yes, that was it. Just paying dues.
Suddenly a light went on. Nathan gasped.
 Who are you?" the figure on the bed asked groggily.
Nathan wished the man had not spoken. It was now harder to think of
him as  the target."
Westerman leaned over toward his nightstand, which was covered with
pharmaceutical vials. For a moment, Nathan contemplated running before
the man could grab a gun and blow his head off.
What Westerman picked up, though, was a rubber face mask attached
by a tube to a green tank with OXYGEN stenciled on it. He fiddled with
something on the mask, then held it to his face and breathed while the tank
hissed.
 You gave me a start," he said, smiling weakly as he set the mask down.
Westerman was a pathetic sight. His hair stood out like straw from a
skull-like head. He wore striped pajamas far too big for his skeletal body.
His face was blotchy and his hands were covered with lesions.  Has someone
sent you?" he asked Nathan.
Nathan shook his head, then nodded.  Sent me. Yes."
 Do you want a reading?"
 What?"
 The cards. Do you want me to read the cards for you?"
 Don't you want to know how I got in?"
The man shrugged.  Most of my friends have keys. I really don't mind
visitors, anyway, at whatever hour. Go ahead. Bring the cards. They're over
there."
Woodenly, Nathan went to a dusty end table where a deck of oversized,

dirty-looking cards was lying face down. He brought the cards to the man
in the bed. The target.
 Do you know your sign?" Westerman asked as he shuffled and laid out
the cards on the coverlet.
 No."
 When's your birthday?"
 I don't know."
Westerman said patiently,  That's all right. Well, here's something interesting. The Hanged Man. It's not a bad card. It signifies uncertainty, indecision. There are a lot of major cards here. This is an important time in your
life. A turning point."
 It is," Nathan said.  I've come to kill you."
Westerman looked up, his forehead creased.  What was that?"
 I said I've come to kill you."
Westerman dropped the cards and stared at Nathan for a moment, then
bowed his head.  I thought I might be on the list."
 What list?"
 You don't know? Are you doing this just for money?"
 Tell me about the list," Nathan said.
Westerman sighed.  All right. A lot of people who pretend to be psychics
are frauds. But there are some   . a few . . . who are real. Who have real
power. And each of us like that knows who the others are. I'm one of them.
And for the last few years, somebody's been killing us off." He folded his
arms across his chest.  You, I suppose."
 Aren't you afraid?"
 Look, I have more diseases that most people my age have teeth. Six of
them are terminal. But I confound the doctors by hanging around. They
poke around, they take blood samples, and then they shake their heads
and tell me I should be dead, but I just don't seem able to die. One doctor
thinks it's my blood." Westerman shrugged.  Who knows? But I've been
supposed to die for so long . . . no, I'm not afraid of it. Not even this way.
I would like to know why I'm being murdered, though. Can you give me
that?"
 No," Nathan said. He moved toward the target.
 Well, just thought I'd ask," Westerman said.  By the way, this reading" 
he waved to the cards spread on the bed  indicates you'll be dead yourself
in two years."
 Two years later than you," Nathan whispered. He took the pillow from
behind Westerman's head and pressed it over the sick man's face. Westerman
screamed into the pillow. His arms and legs flailed obscenely. Nathan turned
his head away, his eyes squeezed shut, as he bore down with all his strength
until the fragile figure lay still.
He was scared after all, Nathan thought, feeling a strong urge to release
his bowels.
Westerman's eyes were open. Though it revolted him, Nathan closed the
lids to stop the corpse from staring at him.
The corpse, he thought. The target.
As he walked out the front door and onto the street, he took a deep
breath. No one turned to point a finger at him. Children did not scream that

they had seen a killer. Life, strangely enough, went on. In time, Nathan
thought, this would become just another day.
And it did. Within three months, Nathan was working as a consultant on
retainer for three of the biggest museums in the world. He had moved to
California, into a glass house on the beach. His father's jewelry store was
open again and thriving.
One day, during his morning jog along the shore, Nathan found a pigeon's
blood ruby which he sold to a private collector for three hundred thousand
dollars. It was worth more, but the collector did not demand an investigation
into the stone's provenance. So Nathan did not have to explain that he had
found the stone on his back steps, wrapped in a note that read WELCOME.
His membership in the Consortium was complete.
Nathan Eames looked at his empty glass. He didn't remember drinking it.
He stood up and put on the terrycloth jacket and loafers he'd worn to the
hotel pool. It had been a pointless attempt at leisure, anyway. Ever since
joining the Consortium, he had not enjoyed idle time very much. It made
his mind wander. It made him remember.
Nathan shuddered. The summer breeze suddenly felt very cold.
 Nathan!" a voice called. He turned around. It was the geezer with the
red hair, this time minus the tiger-striped blonde. He was grinning broadly
as he swaggered toward Nathan, hand extended in fellowship.
 How ya doing," he said with a broad New Jersey accent.  Ed Doyle.
We met in Dallas last year."
 Oh . . . sure." Nathan shook his hand, certain he had never seen the
man before in his life.
Doyle hoisted a deck chair with one hand and clapped Nathan on the
back with the other.  See you around, Nate," he said, and walked back
toward the pool.
Nathan was still puzzling over the man when he got off the elevator. He
had indeed been in Dallas last year, but for only one day at an antiques
convention.
He reached into his jacket pocket for his key and found a piece of paper.
On it was written a name, CAROL ANN FRYE, in block letters. The same kind
of letters once used to print George Westerman's name.
 Oh, God, not again," he whispered.
The phone in his room was ringing. Nathan unlocked the door quickly
and grabbed for it.
 The target is working at a carnival near the Metro Zoo," the familiar
bland voice said.
 It's a woman." Nathan's voice sounded thick, as if his saliva had all
congealed.
 Yes. She works with someone who calls herself Madame Zola. The target
is fifteen years old. She has dark blonde hair and blue eyes.  "
 You're talking about a kid," Nathan said.
 Just a target, Mister Eames. Find her tonight and take her to the stretch of

beach south of Eureka Drive. There are two homes in the area, but neither
will be occupied. Police will be nowhere nearby. You'll find a tool in your
end table drawer. Also, for your protection, you may use a car parked at
the Koehler garage two blocks away. Those keys are also in your end table."
Nathan closed his eyes.  I found that diamond," he said slowly.  I called
the number you gave me and left a message."
 We know. The Consortium is very pleased with your work."
 Thank you. But I thought that . . . since I've done what I was brought
in to do   . well, I thought that I might be excused from   . I might not
have to . . ."
The phone was silent for a moment. Then the voice said,  No one is
excused from paying dues, Mister Eames. Ever."
Nathan put the phone down.
In the end table drawer of his room were the car keys and a 9mm. Glock
semi-automatic with a web silencer and no identifying numbers.
It doesn't have to be personal, Nathan told himself. It's only a target.
To satisfy his curiosity, he called the hotel operator and asked to be
connected to Ed Doyle's room.
It came as no surprise that there was no such person registered.
Nathan waited until dark, then showered and dressed. He wondered if
the fifteen-year-old girl he was about to kill would offer to read his cards
first.
chapter 5.
DARIAN WAS SITTING AT A BACK TABLE IN EDDIE'S WHEN SAM CAME IN AFTER
using the outside telephone booth.
 Cops say anything?"
Sam shook his head.  They just verified that it was Otto Krantz, that
doctor I saw in the hospital. Nothing else."
 What'd you expect?"
 Like why he wanted to shoot us, maybe," Sam said as he sat down.
Darian grunted.  Could have been a coincidence."
Eddie brought over a bucket of steamers.  That's what the police think.
We just happened to be there when the guy popped." Sam shook his head.
 I don't buy it, though. Not after the fuss Krantz made over my blood." He
added,  And the woman, too."
The woman. She had a name, he knew, but it had a  doctor" in front of
it, which put her way out of Sam's league. Still, he had kissed her. Cory
Althorpe had allowed that, even if it was just a cheesy scam to get him to
give up his blood to doctor  Krantz.
And when he had kissed her, she had filled him with the music of the
sea.
He ate in silence.
After a while, Darian said,  My son Jamie had rare blood, too. And the
Sight."
Sam looked up from his food.  The Sight?"
 Second sight, whatever you call it," the old man said uncomfortably.
 He was in some kind of experiment for it. The doctors were always poking
him for blood."
Sam pushed his bowl away.
 The bastard in charge of the experiment, Bonner was his name, thought
maybe his blood was what made Jamie so    different." Darian looked
away.  Never found out, though. Jamie and all the rest of them got killed.
Least I thought they had, till I talked to that Woodson."
 Woodson? From the museum?"
Darian nodded.  He was there. Said he was one of them. The Remember 

ers, they called themselves. Rememberers." He spoke the name with disdain.
 They weren't the ones had to remember."
Sam took a deep breath.  Then all this time   . I never thought you
believed me about my shivers."
 What difference would it make if I believed you or not? They never
brought you no good, did they?"
 No."
 Nor Jamie, neither. He'd be alive today if it wasn't for Bonner and that
weaselly blood doctor he had working for him." Darian pulled a clam shell
with an angry snap.  Turns out he's the one who's still alive, the son of a
bitch."
 Bonner?"
 No, the assistant. His name was Gerald Heaney. I found out after I buried
my wife and my boy that he hadn't been on the island that day. I went to
see him I never did believe it was an accident, the boat exploding that
way right in the thick of them, and I wanted to see if Heaney knew somebody
who wanted them dead. But when I got to his office, the coward was already
gone. Left the country, his secretary said. He'd moved to Europe to get away
from the memories." Darian repeated the words with bitter mockery. He
brought a clam to his lips, then dropped it back in the bowl.  I could move
to the moon, and the memories would still be there."
 Excuse me, gentlemen."
Frowning, Sam looked up at a smiling man with blow-dried hair wearing
a striped knit shirt with a polo pony embroidered on it. Sam disliked him
immediately.
 Darian McCabe?" the man asked.
 Could be," Darian said.
The man smiled.  Mind if I join you?"
 Lots of empty tables here," Darian said, crossing his arms over his chest.
 Come on," the intruder said affably.  I've come here just to see you.
That's my boat outside." He gestured toward an immense yacht that all but
filled the vista from Eddie's window.
 Real impressive," Darian said, then belched.
The man stood back, his smile gone.  Okay, have it your way." He
reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rolled up sheet of slick paper.
He creased it so it would lay flat, then tossed it onto the table. It was a fax
replica of the pendant and gold chain. Darian and Sam looked at it, then
at the man.
 Eventually you'll want to sell that," he said.  I'll buy it. I'll pay you more
money than you've ever seen in your lives." He paused.  You still have the
stone, don't you?"
 Don't know what you're talking about," Darian said. He pushed the fax
back across the table to the man, who took it, returned it to his back pocket,
and tossed a business card on the table.
 You can reach me through my secretary when you decide to deal," he
said. He walked away. A few minutes later, the yacht steamed from the
inlet.
 Aidon Saint  James," Darian read from the card.

Sam nodded.  I recognized his face from television. He's the guy who
owns all the casinos."
Darian hunkered down over his clams.  Where do you think he heard
about the rock?"
Sam shrugged.  From Woodson's jewelry expert, probably. Look, we
were talking."
 I'm done talking."
 Well, I'm not. What you told me about your son makes me believe more
than ever that something's not right."
 Leave it alone," Darian said quietly.  That's why I told you what I did.
Just leave it alone before something happens to you."
 Something's already happened!" Sam shouted, then lowered his voice
at a gesture from Darian.  That crazy doctor just tried to kill us."
 He's dead now."
 What if he wasn't working alone?"
 Now you're talking crazy," Darian said.
 Look, a lot of crazy things are happening. What about the diamond? It
glows, Darian."
 So? I seen algae glow."
 Does it glow for some people and not for others?" Sam shot back.  It
didn't do a thing when the jeweler touched it."
 Could have been the light," the old man said.
 There's the volcano, too. You said that Woodson was part of that group
of psychics. When I told him I'd seen a volcano at the Peaks, I could tell
it meant something to him."
Darian tensed. Sam could almost see the screen going down behind
Darian's eyes.  It means something to you, too, doesn't it," he realized.
 No," the old man grunted, wiping his mouth.  I said leave it alone."
He stood up and tossed four one-dollar bills onto the table.  I'm going to
get some sleep. You coming?"
Sam pushed himself slowly away from the table. Yeah, I'm coming," he
said.
Darian waited for him. When Sam had reached the door, the old man
picked up Saint  James's card and stuck it in the pocket of his jacket.
chapter 6.
CAROL ANN FRYE KNEW THE WOMAN WAS DYING THE MOMENT SHE WALKED
into the tent.
Probably anyone could have seen it. The woman's skin was gray, her
lips had a bluish cast to them, her eyes were sunken, her hands trembled.
Her hair was colorless and sparse in back, white around her face. It was
cancer.
But Carol Ann did not need her eyes to see the symptoms. She saw the
disease itself, glowing around the woman like a shroud. Her aura was dark,
broken. The cancer had swallowed her like an amoeba circling food and
she was trapped inside, watching death squeeze her more tightly with each
passing hour.
 Two dollars," Madame Zola yawned, tipping onto the back legs of her
chair and stretching.
Madame Zola, whose real name was Nadine Gorman, had spent virtually
her entire life in one carnival or another, running every carny game from
the Money Wheel to Three-Card Monte. Almost all of them had brought in
more money than the Madame Zola gig, but Nadine wasn't as young as she
used to be and fortune telling was a lot easier on her back than standing
up for twelve hours a day at the Money Wheel.
The sick woman took a long time unclasping her handbag. The disease
was in her bones, and every movement hurt. Finally, she held out two worn
dollar bills. Nadine promptly stashed them in a cigar box and set her chair
aright, assuming the position of mediumship, waving her hands over a
chipped, greasy crystal ball.
From the corner of her eye she saw Carol Ann standing just inside the
tent flap. She gestured with her head for the girl to get out.
Carol Ann had come to her as a runaway from somewhere near Philadelphia. Nadine had found her outside a blood bank where the girl had just
sold a pint of her blood for food money, and had let herself be talked into
giving the girl a job. All in all, Carol Ann was a good kid. She didn't take
drugs, didn't steal, wasn't a hooker as far as Nadine knew, and helped out
with all the heavy work and errands in exchange for a place to sleep in

Nadine's trailer and three squares a day. But she was beginning to get on
Nadine's nerves.
 Okay, what do you want to ask?" she said, smiling at the ailing mark,
showing the lipstick on her teeth.
 I want to touch her," the woman said, pointing a trembling finger at
Carol Ann.  I heard she could heal with just her hands."
Madame Zola shot Carol Ann a dirty look. More and more townies were
coming around just to see her.
Oh. the act was good. Nadine had to admit that. Business had picked up
considerably since the kid started with her Jesus Christ and Lazarus routine.
But Nadine would be damned before she'd let a fifteen-year-old snot-nose
girl squeeze her out of a job.
 That'll be extra," Nadine said, but Carol Ann was already walking toward
the woman, her arms extended.
 I'm thirty-two years old," the woman said tremulously.  I've got young
kids. My husband left.  "
Carol Ann embraced her, feeling the woman's wracking pain course
through her own thin arms. Her eyelids fluttered. She felt a shiver down
her back.
 Oh, God, I feel it moving," the woman whispered.
The disease was bad. It flowed through Carol Ann like molten lead. Her
legs buckled, and for a few moments she had to cling to the sick woman
to stay upright.
 Now, don't you have one of your fits here," Madame Zola snapped.
Carol Ann couldn't hear her. She heard only the cancer, raging like a
wild wind, pouring out of the woman's body and into her own, where it
could find no purchase.
The woman gasped and whimpered. Her nose ran. Carol Ann held her
more closely, willing into herself the shroud of disease.
When it was gone, when Carol Ann had absorbed all the death inside
the woman, she released her and stepped away. Then, raising her arms,
she expelled the evil through her mouth, her nose, the top of her head, the
tips of her fingers, until it had all vanished, dissipated into the air. Then
she shuddered and fell to her knees.
Madame Zola muscled her onto a chair.  That'll be fifty dollars," she said
irritably to the woman.
 I . . ." The woman rummaged frantically in her purse.  I don't think I
have   ."
 What you got?" the medium grabbed the bills in the woman's hand and
counted them quickly. Thirty-six dollars. The kid could pull in a thousand a
day, easy, and she wasted herself on thirty-six lousy bucks.  All right, come
back tomorrow and pay the rest." She pocketed the bills.  Well, what are
you waiting for?"
The woman stood stammering for a moment, then knelt down alongside
Carol Ann's chair.
 Are you all right?" she asked.
Carol Ann's eyes opened. The woman's cheeks were flushed. The dull
cast to her eyes was gone. She looked young again.
 I'm fine," Carol Ann said, smiling.

 You're so pale."
 I just need to rest a while. You go home, now."
The woman touched her own face.  I feel so different."
 You're not sick anymore." Carol Ann saw the woman's aura, now blue
and strong.  It's all gone," she said.
The woman bowed her head.  I was dying."
 Look, do you mind?" Madame Zola asked, her hands on her hips.
The woman stood up and, with a final glance at Carol Ann, left the tent.
Don't you think you're kind of overdoing this crap?" Nadine asked.
 What?"
 With the fainting and all. The eyeballs rolling back in your head."
 I don't know how else to do it," Carol Ann said.  She was so sick."
 Hey, this is me, okay? I'm a carnie. I understand scams. All I'm saying
is "
 It's not a scam," Carol Ann said quietly.
 Fine," Nadine said in disgust.  You want to be Sarah Bernhardt, go right
to it. But at least wait until I collect the money, huh? And don't go getting
any idea that you're my partner. You work for me, understand? Any lip,
and you're back on the street."
Carol Ann nodded as a young man walked into the tent.
He was well dressed. Nadine immediately assessed him as good for at
least fifty bucks.  Sit down," she purred.  Let me tell you about yourself."
Carol Ann rose and walked toward the exit.
 Is she leaving?"
 My assistant?" Madam Zola tried to wipe the crystal ball clean.  No, she
can stay if you want her to. It's an extra ten dollars, though."
The man opened his wallet to take out the money. When he did, Nadine
caught a glimpse of his driver's license.
His name was Nathan Eames.
I see a woman with dark hair who is close to you," Madame Zola said.
Nathan was looking at Carol Ann.
The medium waited for a response, then saw that the young man was
not paying any attention to the crystal ball. She raised an eyebrow and
turned to Carol Ann.  And what do you see?" she asked.
The girl looked uneasy.  Nothing. May I go?"
 No," the man said.  What do you see, really?"
Carol Ann looked at him and their eyes locked.
 Dark forces," she whispered.  Something evil. A shining stone."
Madame Zola beamed in triumph, then immediately altered her expression into a more somber cast.  This is deep, very deep," she intoned.  It'll
cost another ten."
 I can't stay here," Carol Ann said.
 Don't go." Nathan held her sleeve.
 Ten dollars, please," Madame Zola repeated.
 I'd like you to have dinner with me. Both of you."

 Dinner?" Madame Zola scowled.  Are you nuts?"
 I'd just like . . . well, more private circumstances. I'll pay you a hundred
dollars."
 Each?" Nadine gave the young man her most brilliant smile.
 Yes. Each."
 In advance."
 Of course," Nathan said. He took two hundred-dollar bills from his
wallet and gave them to her.
Carol Ann shook her head.  No, I don't want to   ."
 Shut up." Nadine checked the bills to make sure they were genuine,
then stuffed them into her cleavage.  Great. I'm starving. Let's go now."
This time, the killing was easier.
Nathan drove the two women through an attractive residential area toward
the beach.
 Is this a fancy place we're going to?" Nadine asked.  Is she dressed
right?" She crooked her thumb toward Carol Ann in the backseat.
 You're both fine," Nathan said. He pulled onto the beach and parked.
 But first I want to show you something. My favorite place."
Nadine sighed and rolled her eyes.  All right, but let's make it quick,
okay? They got fireworks at the carnival tonight and there's going to be a
crowd."
 I don't think it'll take long." Nathan felt for the gun in the back of his
belt.
She knew. The girl knew. He would have to kill her first. It was too bad
that the woman would have to die as well, but he couldn't very well leave
a witness.
He had covered his tracks by having them meet him outside the carnival
grounds, near the zoo entrance. The Porsche had smoked windows so no
one who might have seen the women get into the car could get a good look
at him. After it was done, he would return the car to the garage and forget
about it.
As he got out of the car, he looked at the lights of two houses on the
beach. Both were modern with gigantic expanses of glass. Nathan hoped
with all his heart that the Consortium was right about their being unoccupied
tonight.
But then, he thought, the Consortium is always right.
 Come on out, Carol Ann," he said gently. To his surprise, he smiled.
He was getting good at this.
It's just another day. One event among millions in my life. Like brushing
my teeth or going to the grocery store.
Or killing George Westerman.
He held out his hand for the girl. She shook her head.
 You knew my name," she said.
 Of course," he lied.  We were introduced."
She reached for the door handle on Nadine's side and was half out of
the car when Nathan shot her. The bullet went into her chest, throwing her

into the door. When she slumped onto the sand, she left a smear of blood
on the Porsche's white leather upholstery.
Don't think about it, don't think too much, just another day, just another
target . . .
Nadine shouted and scrambled out of the car.  What . . .  she began.
Nathan shot her in the face. Her arms jerked into the air and he fired
again, dead in the center of her forehead.
 Just another target, just another day.
He trotted to the water's edge and hurled the gun into the waves, then
came back to the Porsche, turned up the volume on the radio, and drove
away, leaving the bodies behind him like picnic litter.
Another year's dues paid, he thought.
Just another
Just another.
chapter 7.		

AFTER HER NERVE-WRACKING ENCOUNTER WITH SAM SMITH AT THE HOSPital, Cory Althorpe went home, took two sleeping pills, and passed out until
morning.
When she arrived for work at seven, the entire hospital was abuzz with
the news about doctor  Krantz's insane spree which had ended in his suicide.
 A terrible tragedy," doctor  Cohen told her.  He must have been under a
monumental strain."
 I heard the man he was shooting at was named Sam Smith," she said.
 Could it have been the patient we saw yesterday in the H-chamber?"
 Smith?" Cohen shrugged.  It might have been, although that's a pretty
common name. Oh, doctor  Althorpe, I wonder if you would speak with a new
patient in intensive care. A teenage girl with a gunshot wound to the chest.
She was brought here last night after being attacked on the beach."
 Is she well enough to talk?"
 That's what's so odd. The paramedics said she was comatose, and the
E R confirmed. Massive loss of blood, cyanosis. Even after a transfusion, no
one expected her to live more than a few hours. But when I arrived this
morning, she was conscious and talking. Quite remarkable." He clicked a
pen absently.  Funny you should mention the nitrogen narcosis patient.
Sam Smith."
 He demonstrated the same sort of wildly accelerated healing," Cory
said.
 Exactly. That was what so interested doctor  Krantz."
 The blood," Cory said softly, thinking of her grandfather and his work
with the Rememberers.
 Evidently. As a serologist, Krantz must have been trying to find some
connection between Mister Smith's blood and the unusual regenerative ability
of his body."
 There was another one," Cory said.  Two years ago. A man named Mark
Cole."
 Yes. I recall Otto mentioning that. Another diver, wasn't he?"
She nodded.  He'd been mutilated by a shark, but in two weeks he was
completely healed."

 It's very strange," Cohen agreed.  I rather wish Otto had talked more
about his work."
 What's the name of the girl with the chest wound?"
He consulted his clipboard.  Carol Ann Frye," he read.  She's fifteen.
She was working in a traveling carnival. The woman she was with sort of
a mother figure, from what I gather was killed. It might be good for her
to talk to you. Just don't be alarmed if she says anything peculiar."
 Such as?"
Cohen smiled.  She told me that she was going to heal herself. I wouldn't
take that too seriously, though. She's a teenager." He smiled.  I've got three
of them. They all say crazy things."
 I understand," Cory said mechanically, even though she could feel her
heart racing.
As soon as she touched Carol Ann's hand, she knew there was something
different about the girl. The same something that was different about Sam
Smith. And maybe herself.
 Feel up to talking?" Cory asked.
 I guess so." Carol Ann propped herself up on an elbow.
 You don't have to sit up," Cory said.
 It's all right. I'm healing. It just takes a lot out of me."
Cory nodded.  doctor  Cohen said you told him you could heal yourself."
The girl fidgeted with the covers.  I shouldn't have said that. He didn't
believe me."
 Is it true?"
Carol Ann looked up.  Yes," she said slowly.
 How do you do it?"
The girl's brow creased.  I don't know exactly. It just happens. I can feel
it. Only usually I do it with other people. I don't get sick myself."
 What happened last night?"
 I already told the police."
 I mean afterward."
 After he shot me?"
 Yes."
The girl's expression was fearful at first, but she took a deep breath and
spoke quickly.  I came to on the beach. Sort of."
 Sort of?"
 Not really, I guess. My body was still lying on the sand. I saw it."
 You saw your own body?"
Carol Ann licked her cracked lips.  I    thought I did. And Nadine's,
too."
Cory poured some cold water into a glass and brought it to the girl's
mouth.
 I went to Nadine, but there wasn't anything inside. She was dead." The
girl's eyes filled.  I think I was going to die too, but then I saw something
and it made me go back. To my body, I mean. Does this sound stupid?"
 No. What did you see?" Cory asked.
 I don't remember. It was kind of like a dream. All I know is, I went

back and then the ambulance came. One guy kept saying I wasn't going to
make it, but I knew I was. Especially after they gave me blood. It was weak,
but I could still use it."
Cory cocked her head.  The blood? You can feel what kind of blood you
have?"
 I knew what they gave me was different. It had to go through my heart
a couple of times. But then it was my own."
 So it was your blood that made you heal? Not your mind?"
Carol Ann reached for the water again, grimacing as she lifted the glass.
 I don't know what it is. When other people are sick, I can draw the sickness
out of them. It goes into me, then out again. Maybe it goes through my
blood. I just don't know. But I felt it working last night."
Cory shifted in her chair.  Have you always been able to do this?"
 Heal? Yeah, I guess so. But it's been getting stronger lately. In the last
few weeks. Something's happening, I can smell it in the air. I can feel it.
It's time for something."
 For what?"
Carol Ann shook her head.  I don't know. Just something. And it's
coming fast.    Suddenly her eyes opened wide.  I remember," she said
softly.
 What do you remember?"
 What I saw that made me go back to my body." She looked up at Cory.
 It was a volcano."
Cory blinked.  A volcano?"
 And a man standing near it. He was    he was saying something." She
shut her eyes tight. Her thin body trembled.
 What is it, Carol Ann? What did he say?"
 He said we would meet again. That the stranger would bring us
together."
 The stranger?"
 That was why I had to come back. Why I have to stay alive,"
 Who's the stranger?"
Carol Ann shook her head.  I don't know."
They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. Finally Cory broke
her gaze away and looked down at her notes.
 Perhaps we should talk about the man who assaulted you," she said.
 Did you give the police a description of him?"
 Yes, but it doesn't matter."
 Why not?"
 He'll be dead soon," Carol Ann said.
 How do you know that? Did you know him?"
 No. I just saw it. The death ring." She reached out with her hand and
touched Cory's shoulder.  You would have seen it too, I think."
Cory felt herself breathing hard.  Perhaps," she said, trying to force the
memories of her childhood away.
Carol Ann smiled.  I'm glad I'm with you," she said.  There'll be more
of us."
 Us?"
 Yes, you're part of this, too. But you aren't the stranger." Carol Ann's

eyes grew glazed and distant. After a moment Cory reached for her pulse,
but just then the girl's eyelids fluttered. She looked bewildered.  That's
funny," she said.  I was in some other place just now. There were boats."
 Boats?"
 And smoke, and columns of water shooting straight up, and mud, a rain
of mud. Her face contorted with fear.  And the volcano."
She lay back on the pillow.  I'm tired," she said.
 I understand. I'll let you sleep."
Carol Ann held Cory's hand tight.  Stay with me for a while," she said.
 We've got to stay together. That's the only way we're going to make it."
She closed her eyes. As she slept, Cory felt the girl's blood pulsing through
her fingers.
The serology lab was in even greater disarray than the rest of the hospital.
Krantz's two assistants, both young doctors, and two technicians were scurrying around, pausing occasionally only to curse doctor  Krantz.
 He never told any of us anything," one of the technicians grumbled
when Cory tried to talk to her about Krantz's research.  Everything was a
big secret. And now nobody around here can do dick."
 But your files are on your computers, aren't they?" Cory asked.
 The patients" files are in there. It's just the research he never entered."
 Would you mind if I looked through them? I have a couple of his patients
whose bloodwork I need to know about."
 Help yourself, Doctor. Holler if you need anything."
Cory sat at one of the open computers in a corner of the lab. The code
for accessing blood records was printed on the machine with Magic Marker.
She got into the computer and called up the file for Carol Ann Frye.
Krantz's lab was thorough. Cory would certainly give them that. Even
though the girl had only been brought in the previous night, her file con 
tained a total blood profile. Type A B-positive, Cory read. She scanned the
data for glucose, urea nitrogen creatinine, uric acid, anion gap, bilirubin,
cholesterol, and a score of other variables. To her practiced eye, all the
readingsi seemed in the normal range.
She called up the file on Sam Smith. His blood type was O-negative. His
readings, too, all seemed to be in the normal range. There was simply
nothing in a normal blood profile to indicate that there was anything unusual
about Sam Smith's blood.
Except . . . she had almost missed the material at the very end of the
report, under the heading  ICDL." A string of numbers followed. Cory
pushed her chair back for a moment, racking her memory to see if she
remembered anything about something called ICDL in blood work.
Ionized calcium? She rechecked the records. No, there was a listing for
ionized calcium: 2 1, well inside the normal range.
Whatever ICDL was, she had never heard of it before.
She leaned forward over the computer again and drew up the records
for Mark Cole, the diver who had exhibited the same quick-healing tendencies. His blood was A-positive, and everything was normal except the
listing at the bottom. ICDL again, followed by more meaningless numbers.

Cory called over the lab technician.  What does ICDL mean?" she asked.
The young woman glanced up and down the computer's chart.  Never
heard of it." She turned and called out to the others in the lab,  Anybody
ever hear of a blood factor called ICDL?"
The three others shook their heads. The technician said,  Sorry, doctor 
Althorpe."
 Do you always do the blood analysis here?" Cory asked.  Did doctor  Krantz
ever use another lab?"
The technician smiled slyly.  Oh, yeah, he did. Someplace in Switzerland.
He would never tell us about it, but his secretary was always complaining
about the secret calls to Geneva. He wouldn't tell her anything, either, but
the calls always showed up on the phone bills. What a putz."
 I need to reach that lab. Can you get me the number?"
 Sure." The technician leaned past Cory and pressed several keys on the
computer. A phone number flashed onto the screen.  Right in the directory,"
the young woman said.  Real big secret, huh?"
Cory scribbled down the number.
 I just hope Krantz gets replaced by someone who's not a total jerk,"
the technician said.  Know any cute serologists?"
 Afraid not. Mind if I use this phone?"
 Go ahead. It's hooked right up to the computer in case you have to
transmit data. But if anybody bitches later about the bill, I'll have to tell
them it was you."
 No problem," Cory said. While she dialed the number, she scrolled back
to Sam Smith's name.
This is all I have of him, she thought. Yesterday, the two of them had
peered together into the universe. Today, he was just a name and a blood
workup on a computer screen.
 Laboratoire Geneve, " a woman answered on the other end of the line.
 Could you give me the name of the director, please?"
 Certainly," the woman said, switching to English.  doctor  Gerald Heaney."
 I'm calling for doctor  Otto Krantz in West Palm Beach," Cory said.  Can
you connect me?"
 Hold on, please."
Cory waited, and then heard,  Yes." It was a man's voice, curt and rushed.
 doctor  Heaney, this is doctor  Cory Althorpe. I was an associate of doctor  Krantz's
in West Palm Beach. He died yesterday and   ."
 Otto's dead?"
 Yes. I'm sorry."
 Have you taken over his duties at the hospital?"
 No, doctor  Heaney. I'm a psychiatrist. But Otto and I both treated a couple
of patients whose blood work was sent to you, I believe, for analysis."
 Yes?" Heaney asked hesitantly.
 Well, both patients Sam Smith and Mark Cole have a sequence of
letters, ICDL, next to their names in the computer files. Since no one in our
serology lab seems to be able to identify this factor, I was hoping you'd be
able to tell me what ICDL stands for."
 Were you involved with doctor  Krantz's research?" Heaney asked abruptly.
 Not directly, but "

 Then surely you don't expect me to discuss his research methods, even
if I knew what they were, with you over the telephone," he snapped.
 Perhaps not, but I'd like to rule out the possibility that this has anything
to do with the fact that both patients were psychic."
Heaney didn't answer.
 You see, both Mister Smith and Mister Cole showed a markedly accelerated
ability to regenerate damaged tissue, and they both also displayed strong
evidence of extrasensory perception. I would have taken their histories for
coincidence, except that now a third patient has been admitted with the
same characteristics. This patient mentioned specifically that her blood was
the factor that enabled her to heal so quickly."
There was a slight pause.  You said you're a psychiatrist?"
 Yes," Cory answered.
 Then may I ask what this patient's blood or her so-called psychic
ability, for that matter has to do with psychiatry?"
Cory felt a twinge of embarrassment. For all his rudeness, Heaney's question had been legitimate. A hospital staff psychiatrist had no real business
with either field of study.  Actually, it's not my work so much as my family's,"
she said.  My grandfather was Edward Bonner, whose name you may know
and . . ."
The line went dead.
 doctor  Heaney?" She jiggled the phone.  Doctor . . ."
Before her eyes, Sam Smith's blood-work records vanished from the
computer screen.
She scrolled back to the Cs. Mark Cole's name was no longer listed.
Somehow, Heaney had just erased the medical existences of two people
from across an ocean. How did he do that? she wondered.
And why?
chapter 8.
Doctor  GERALD HEANEY PUSHED AWAY FROM HIS DESK, SWALLOWING TO FIGHT
down the nausea filling the back of his throat.
Bonner. He thought he would never have to hear that name again.
He stood up, rubbed his palm along his clean-shaven chin, and squeezed
his eyes shut in anguish.
Twenty-nine years. For twenty-nine years, he had kept his silence, met
his obligations, performed his work like a good trained seal. The Consortium
had promised him a new life, and had kept its promise in every respect.
Whatever he had been was gone. He was a different person now.
For twenty-nine years, Gerald Heaney had lived without a soul.
He dialed a phone number. A calm, expressionless voice answered on
the first ring, as it always did.
 Why wasn't I told that Otto Krantz was dead?" Heaney demanded.
There was a slight hesitation.  Our apologies," the blank voice said.  doctor 
Krantz's death had repercussions. It was an oversight that you were not
alerted."
 A damned serious oversight," Heaney barked.  Someone who says she's
Edward Bonner's granddaughter just called me. Here."
There was an audible intake of breath on the other end of the line.  How
much does she know?"
 I haven't any idea. She's gotten into Krantz's files, though, and has made
a connection between two of his patients, both with the ICDL blood type."
 What blood type?"
 Oh, Christ," Heaney muttered. If the Consortium insisted on providing
him with a baby-sitter, he wished it were someone who understood at least
a modicum of what his work was about.  Could I speak with someone else?"
he asked coldly.
 I'm afraid not, doctor  Heaney," the even voice answered.
Heaney sighed.  Then tell whoever it is you talk to that this woman
knows about Bonner's experiments with ESP, and that she's traced Krantz's
work in West Palm Beach to me. Oh, yes. And that she's got a patient now
who's saying that her blood is what makes her psychic."
He hung up with a satisfying crash of the phone.

Resisting an urge to panic, Heaney rifled through the papers in his  in
basket, pulling out the lab reports that had come in during the night: London,
Colorado, Maine, Moscow. Here it was. Florida, blind sample. That meant
it had not come from a hospital. In this case, the blood had come direct,
on a cloth used to wipe the white leather upholstery of a Porsche. A fifteen 
year-old girl had been shot.
Somebody in the Consortium had been paying dues.
The target's blood had all the earmarks of the blood that set one group of
human beings so dramatically apart from the rest of the species. Powerful
blood, Bonner had called it. The blood of a super race, except that it tran 
scended all known racial, ethnic, and geographical divisions.
If they ever learned what they can do . . .
That was the argument that had resulted in Professor Bonner's death.
Ironically, Bonner and his assistant Heaney had been the first to under 
stand the danger of exploring Intracellular DNA-Linked (ICDL) blood. They
knew that anything arising from their discovery would create explosive
social issues, beginning with the premise that all people were not created
equal. ICDLs had more of everything more stamina, higher resistance to
disease, greater stress tolerance. And that didn't even take into account
their mental differences.
It was not intelligence. ICDLs were no more or less intelligent than any
other random group. It was the extrasensory powers that these people
demonstrated that were so frighteningly different from other human beings.
They could heal with a touch and channel to different levels of conscious 
ness. Often they were clairvoyant. They retained  memories" of existences
other than their present lives. They could spontaneously generate energy,
including fire. They could call up  spirits," by which they meant the energy
reservoirs of persons no longer living, and speak with them.
In short, they exhibited commonplace signs of lunacy.
And so long as they were considered lunatics, there was no problem.
But Edward Bonner's findings, proving scientifically that not only did ESP
exist, but that those who could practice it were physiologically different
from the rest of the human race, would have created social chaos of an
unimaginable magnitude.
Not to mention what would happen if the ICDLs themselves Bonner's
 Rememberers" and their kind ever discovered their own power.
They had come close. Heaney recalled one incident in which all seventeen
subjects reportedly  saw" the same vision.
It was an odd one. Bonner had hoped for something like the spectre of
a prophet or a clear symbol of some sort a star, perhaps, or the enlarged
view of a hydrogen atom. But what his Rememberers came up with was a
volcano. No other explanation. Just an erupting volcano and some vague
presentiment that the sea was in some way involved.
Nevertheless, what Bonner had both feared and hoped for had occurred.
The group had thought with one mind.
And if they could think with one mind, they could, theoretically, act with
one body.

That was the true danger.
Heaney smiled bitterly. Had he gotten it right? That was the party line.
He had worked for years to make himself believe it: True psychics were
dangerous. That was why it was necessary to eliminate them.
Sometimes he did believe it.
Sometimes he could sleep at night.
He was startled by the ring of the telephone. No one except members of
the Consortium called him on his direct line. Almost all the callers were
doctors filing blood reports. Only one, the nameless blank-voiced man, was
not.
 Yes," he said.
 The patient you mentioned in Florida isn't dead."
Heaney picked up the blind sample report.  No. That's what Bonner's
granddaughter said. I have her blood work here."
 And she's definite?"
 She's got the blood you're looking for, if that's what you mean."
 Fine. Her name is Carol Ann Frye. She's in the intensive care unit in West
Palm Beach. Age fifteen. Chest wound. She wasn't disposed of properly."
 I gathered that," Heaney said testily.
 The woman you spoke with was doctor  Corinne Althorpe, age thirty-seven,"
the blank voice continued.  She's on the psychiatric staff at the same hospital."
 Thank you for sharing that with me. May I ask why?"
 You're to go to Florida immediately," the anonymous voice said.
Heaney felt his shoulders slump.
That was all. Just a slump of the shoulders. Time had a way of making
a person accustomed to even the most terrible things. An order to kill two
people, one of them a child, who were perfect strangers to him and had
never done him any harm, produced no objection other than a slump of
the shoulders. The screaming, but unvoiced protest he had felt in the past
had thinned to a dull throb.
Even Heaney's perception of the blank-voiced man on the telephone had
mellowed over the years. For the first few years, he had thought of that
expressionless drone as the voice of God, disembodied and disinterested,
to be disobeyed at one's peril. Now he pictured its owner in a different
way. He was rather stupid, after all, that vacuous being with the air 
conditioned voice. He was venal, small-minded, and devoid of conscience.
God, for Gerald Heaney, had evolved into a flat-voiced thug.
Nevertheless, God or Benny or Frank or Joey the Spike, whatever his
name was had complete authority to murder him at will; and therefore
was still in a position to be disobeyed only at Heaney's peril.
 I'm needed here," Heaney ventured.
 We are arranging for you to replace doctor  Krantz at his hospital." It was
as if Heaney had never spoken.                                                                
 Do you have any questions, Doctor?"
 No," he said quietly.  No questions."
He hung up. Don't ask questions. It's better that way.

He smoothed his hands over the lab report about the teenager in West
Palm Beach. Carol Ann Frye. He wondered what she had done to warrant
getting shot in the chest. Predicted the weather? Bent a spoon?
No, the spoon-benders were almost always fake. Back when he first came
to work as Bonner's serologist, his salary paid by a small federal grant, he
had been amazed at how the quacks had arrived in droves to volunteer
for Bonner's experiments, clearly convinced that they could manipulate
whatever tests they were given.
But they never could. Not through all Bonner's tests. And they never had
the right blood.
So the fakes were sent away to continue defrauding whomever they
chose, while Bonner gathered up the genuine ICDLs.
No, Carol Ann Frye wasn't a spoon-bender.
Maybe she was a healer. The healers always had been special targets.
He remembered a married couple named Nowar, who had been in the
group. They were both oncologists, both with very strong indications of
ICDL, and an unheard-of record of curing terminal patients. They came to
Bonner as volunteers, determined to find other physicians with ESP with
the goal of pioneering a new form of healing.
The Consortium had made sure the Nowars were disposed of  properly."
When they didn't show up for the final, fatal encounter on Memory Island,
the Consortium had sent out people to find them. Heaney had read about
their deaths while he was enroute to Switzerland, carrying the research
records he had stolen from Bonner's office files. The Nowars had been
found murdered in a swamp, surrounded by footprints in the blood-soaked
mud,
He pushed his intercom.  I'll be leaving for several days. Please rearrange
my schedule."
His voice, he noticed, sounded frail, the voice of a timid old man.
Why am I surprised? he asked himself. That was what he had become.
At the time of Bonner's experiments, Heaney had been an eager young
scientist, a brilliant serologist with a brilliant future. Once the evidence
about ICDL blood started coming in, he caught Bonner's fire.
 I think the extraordinary talents of these people are imprinted on their
blood cells," the old doctor had said early on.  But what is yet to be discovered is where these talents originated."
 Isn't it obvious?" Heaney had asked.  It's cellular, an evolutionary trait
gone awry.   
 You think early man was psychic?"
 It's possible," Heaney said.  Birds can sense when earthquakes are
coming. Animals grow thicker coats in anticipation of a cold winter. Primitive
man might have needed ESP to survive, then lost the ability over the next
few millenia, when it was no longer needed."
Bonner paced about the office they shared.  Assume ancient man did
have psychic skills at one time. Just as a guess, I would think that any such

skills would have been reasonably low level. Early man wouldn't have
needed a psychic tool as powerful as, say, telepathy to avoid freezing during
an ice age."
Heaney was beginning to understand him.  And yet a significant number
of the Rememberers are telepathic is that what you're saying?"
 That's just what I'm saying. They're telepathic, precognitive, clairaudient. Their abilities far surpass whatever might at one time have been
necessary for survival." He stopped pacing and smiled.  I think these people
are different, doctor  Heaney, different down to the very cells of their bodies.
I do not believe they are mutations, or even that they have followed a
normal evolutionary pattern."
 Then where do they come from?"
Bonner laughed.  I doubt if we'll find the answer to that within our
lifetimes. What we can find, though, is the key to the Rememberers" particular
genetic differences. That key is in their blood."
It was an exciting time. With the advent of the electron microscope, the
secrets of life had been revealed through a code of markings on blood
cells. All over the world, scientists had been jolted into the realization that
everything about a human being was spelled out in a series of complex
codes literally written on each cell and each bead on a strand of DNA. The
trick was to decipher the code.
Most of the scientists tried to crack the codes of the physical body.
Through these cellular markings, protein configurations were discovered,
as were hemoglobin AIC, a cellular predisposition to diabetes, and a means
to determine tissue compatibility, which made organ transplant possible.
These scientists were rewarded for their efforts with prestige, a place in
history, and the veneration of their peers. Only Edward Bonner, whose
work had predated most of theirs, was treated with ridicule and scorn. Of
all the elements of human life encoded inside the cells in a drop of blood,
only the mind was ignored.
The scientific community could accept the idea that a human being might
be born with a penchant for obesity, but not for psychic awareness. Edward
Bonner became a laughingstock, his name an epithet for ridicule.
That was the work of the Consortium.
And Gerald Heaney had helped them.
 Your work is overshadowed by doctor  Bonner's" the voice said during the
first call.  It will always be overshadowed, as long as you allow it."
Heaney had protested, as any reputable scientist would.  We do not work
for personal glory," he had said loftily.
The arid voice had only laughed. He God, that is, the voice that would
come to rule Gerald Heaney's life had terminated the conversation at that
point, because He had accomplished His mission. He had planted a seed
of discontent.
Because his work was overshadowed by Bonner's, damn it. The blood
work was the important element in the experiments, not the old man's silly
mind-reading games, and Heaney was the blood expert.
And so, because God had seen into Gerald Heaney's heart and found it
filled with weakness and pride, Heaney was more receptive to the second
phone call. And the third. At the time of the fourth call, the speedboat which

had been rigged to explode on Memory Island had already begun its fateful
journey.
That call had come right to the point.
 Bonner will be dead in a matter of minutes," the voice said.  If you
wish to join the Consortium, collect all your office files and take a taxi
directly to the airport. Now."
 Dead? But "
 There is no time for discussion, doctor  Heaney. Go now or stay."
The caller hung up. Half dazed, Heaney shuffled from room to room,
wondering what to do.
He could go to the police.
And tell them what? That his senior partner was going to be murdered
by a group known to Heaney only as a voice on the telephone?
He could sit tight and do nothing. Pretend the call had never come. Hope
for the best.
And if his worst fears were correct, die like Bonner.
He could fight, of course. Die for his work, for his honor.
Honor.
What a sad little word it was.
What he did, in the end, was to take all Bonner's files, leave the building,
hail a cab, and head for the airport. There a ticket in his name was dropped
at his feet by a passerby whose face he didn't see. The ticket was to Boston.
At Logan Airport, he answered a telephone page and received a message
to check into the Copley Plaza. The next day, a packet arrived for him
containing a passport, he had never had one, another plane ticket to
Geneva, Switzerland, and a sheet of paper bearing only the address:
12153 COMMONWEALTH AVENUE.
A moment later the phone rang.
 Did you have a good trip?" the voice said.
 Why am I going to Geneva?" Heaney asked.  What am I supposed to
do there?"
 That's where you'll begin your life, Doctor," the voice answered with
cool assurance.  You will head the largest serology laboratory in the world.
You will continue with Bonner's work, but for the Consortium alone. No
press, no conventions, no scientific journals. Just us."
He frowned, but said nothing.
 Now, I would suggest you go as soon as possible to the address you've
received, doctor  Heaney. It's an apartment building where a woman named
Grace Bonner lives. She is doctor  Bonner's sister."
 Yes, I know. I've met her."
 Then it won't be difficult. Go and tell her that her brother is dead."
 Well   . I   . all right. I suppose I can tell her. And then what?
 And then kill her."
 What?"
 Proceed directly to the airport after that. Your plane leaves at two."
 What   . I can't . . ." He felt as if all the breath had been knocked from
his body.  You must be insane."

 All members of the Consortium pay dues," the voice said.
 But "
 You won't be caught, doctor  Heaney. We take care of these things."
Heaney sat in stunned silence, breathing heavily into the receiver.
 Do it, Doctor," the voice said at last.  You know there's no alternative
now."
The connection was broken. Heaney squeezed his eyes closed with the
finality of the click at the other end.
He had done it, of course. He would not be alive now if he hadn't. And
he had continued Bonner's work secretly, scouring the world's hospitals
and clinics and blood banks, seeking to identify people with ICDL blood.
Then those people were killed, either by others or by Heaney himself.
He had killed many, many times.
At this moment, in fact, he was setting out for southern Florida to kill
again. Heaney walked slowly past his secretary, who wished him a pleasant
trip. He did not respond.
He sometimes wondered how things might have been if he hadn't spoken
to the blank-voiced man. The Consortium would have killed him, of course.
But at least he might have died with some sense of   . well, honor.
 Honor." He whispered the word and walked to his waiting Rolls-Royce.
chapter 9.

THE SUN WAS SETTING WHEN SAM   and DARIAN NEARED THEIR DOCK AT
Jupiter Inlet. It had been rotten work, diving into muck to find a set of
unused utility pipes for a housing developer. But they had been paid.
Sometimes that was the most they could hope for.
 Who the hell is that?" Darian grumbled as a figure silhouetted against
the flame-colored sunset walked out toward their mooring.
 A woman," Sam said.
 Probably one of them Jehovah's Nitwits." Darian wiped his hands on
his grimy pants.  That's all I need."
 I'll get rid of her," Sam said, judging from the old man's mood that it
was probably best to avoid an encounter between Darian McCabe and the
general public.
The boat nosed into the dock. Sam tossed the rope onto the pier, ready
to jump out and tie up, but the woman picked up the rope and wound it
expertly around the cleat. It was Cory Althorpe.
Sam tossed her the stern line and she made that one fast also. From the
deck, Sam stared at her.
 What are you doing here?" he said finally.
 I've got to talk to you."
Darian pushed past Sam and lumbered onto the pier to check the lines.
 They're on right," Cory said.
Darian gave her a black look, checked the ropes anyway, then hopped
back onto the boat.  We ain't had supper yet," he said.
 I'm sorry to disturb you, Mister McCabe, but this is very urgent. You'll want
to hear what I have to say, too. Please let me come aboard."
With a sigh of disgust, Darian turned his back. Sam nodded approval for
Cory to come aboard, then led her down into the galley.  I can make you
some instant coffee," he said, trying not to notice the music that followed
her like traces of light.
 Just let her say what she's got to say," Darian boomed as he followed
them below.
Cory took a deep breath.  It's about your blood, Sam."
 If you came here to get more of his blood, lady . . ." Darian threatened.

 That's not why I'm here."
The old man settled onto one of the hard benches with an air of discontent.
 Sam, there was a code on the hospital computer indicating that your
blood work was sent to some laboratory in Geneva, Switzerland. The same
code was next to the name of another patient with the same kind of blood. 
 The dead diver?" Sam asked.
 Yes. Mark Cole. I didn't get a chance to tell you that he might also have
exhibited some psychic tendencies."
 Are you going to start that crap again?" Darian said hotly.
 It's a factor in what I've learned, Mister McCabe."
 Then get on with it. You got too many words for a woman."
Cory closed her eyes in exasperation, then turned back to Sam.  Okay.
The codes on your blood work. I wrote them down. Then I called the
director of the lab in Geneva to see if there was a connection between your
kind of blood and the fact that you're psychic."
 What'd he say?" Sam asked.
 He hung up on me."
Darian snorted.  Can't say's I blame him."
 And a moment later, both your name and Mark Cole's were erased from
the computer file."
 Probably pushed the wrong button," Darian said.
 I did not push a wrong button," she said evenly.  It was deliberately
erased."
 Why?" Sam asked.
 That's what I wanted to know. So I got on the phone with a hospital in
Washington. I know somebody in the serology lab there. I got the names
of every patient admitted in the past two years whose blood records showed
the Geneva code. There were four." She swallowed.
 Yeah?"
 They're all dead, Sam."
Darian looked up sharply  What?"
 Every one of them died soon after his release from the hospital. Just
like Mark Cole."
 Krantz said he died in an auto accident."
Cory opened her pocketbook and took out a piece of paper on which
she had scribbled some notes.  Yes, a hit and run. The driver was never
caught. A man named Allen Decker also died in a hit and run. June Codispot
fell out a window. Romero Cruz suffered a drug overdose. Hiroshi Nakajima
succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning." She folded the paper.
 Could be a coincidence," Darian said.
Cory exhaled sharply.  Yes, it could. Is that what you want to believe?"
Darian tightened his lips into a thin line.
 So I called another hospital in Tulsa. They had two patients on file
whose blood had the Geneva code."
 Dead?" Sam asked.
 Yes."
This time Darian did not have an answer.

 doctor  Krantz tried to kill me," Sam said quietly.  Was it for my blood?"
She shook her head.  I can't make any sense out of it. He didn't kill the
people in Washington or in Oklahoma."
 Who's to say those people were . . . whatchamacallit, psychics, anyway?"
 I am," Cory said.  After doctor  Heaney hung up on me, I called the families
of each "
 Heaney?"
 Gerald Heaney. He's the director of the lab in Switzerland. As soon as
I mentioned a possible connection between this ICDL blood and ESP, he
panicked. And yes, I checked. All those other dead people were psychic.
So their families said."
Sam looked at Darian.  Didn't you mention something about a guy named
Heaney?" Then he remembered.  That's right. You went to see him
after   ." He didn't want to finish the sentence.
 Do you know him?" Cory asked, bewildered.
 Heaney was one of the scientists in an experiment with psychics once,"
Sam said.  They tested blood, too."
 That's nothing that concerns her," Darian snapped.  Happened a long
time ago."
 Memory Island," Cory said.
Darian stared at her.
 That's where it was, wasn't it?" Her face was ashen.
 How do you know about that?"
 Oh, my God," she said.  They all died, too."
 I asked you how you know about that," Darian demanded.
 She looked at Darian with tears in her eyes.  It was my grandfather's
experiment," she said.  I'd forgotten his assistant's 
 Bonner!" Darian's eyes blazed.  Your grandfather!"
Cory closed her eyes slowly, then opened them again.  McCabe," she
said breathlessly.  Your son was Jamie McCabe."
 Get off my boat."
 It wasn't an accident back then, was it?" she went on.  They were all
murdered."
 It was your fool grandfather got my boy killed!" Darian raged.  If it
wasn't for him and his ungodly meddling with "
 You're blaming the wrong person!" she shouted back.  Don't you see?
He was killed, too. His reputation was destroyed. All his work vanished.
And now the man who worked with him is running a lab that can identify
people like Sam. And people like Sam have been killed. How do we know
they aren't still being killed?"
 I want you off my boat."
 Darian," Sam began.
 Take her topside. Now."
Sam's mouth set.  Look, I don't know how . . ."
 That's right. You don't know nothing. I'll not have Bonner's spawn on
my property. Now get rid of her before I throw you both off."
Sam rose from his bench, angrily, but Cory stepped between them.  I'll

go," she said.  I've said what I came to say." She picked up her pocketbook
and walked gingerly up the narrow steps to the deck.
Sam followed her.
 I can see myself off," she said on the deck.
Sam stepped close to her.  Look," he said.  I'm sorry the old man was
so rude to you. I guess I was, too, yesterday at the hospital."
 I'd rather forget everything that happened yesterday," she said.  My
behavior with you was unpardonable." She placed her hand on his chest
to push him away, but at the touch of his body, she felt the intoxicating
music surge through her.
Sam closed his eyes. His breath escaped in a quivering rush.
 Don't," she said softly. Then, her face showing her pain, she pushed
him away and clambered onto the pier.
In another instant, it seemed, she was gone, the red taillights of her car
speeding into the distance.
Sam put his hand over the spot on his chest where her hand had touched
him. He could still hear the music.
Darian came up behind him.  Is she gone?"
 I'm going to bed," Sam said, walking past him without a glance.
 No supper?"
Sam didn't answer him.
Darian thrust his hands into his pockets and walked to the stern of the
boat, where he looked out at the night sky.
If only Sam hadn't dived the Peaks. The devil was coming after Sam, just
the way he had come after Jamie.
Darian heard a voice, deep inside his head. I'll kill you, I'll kill you all.
The words were always the same.
There had never been a picture attached to the words, only a man's voice,
clear and low, filled with evil magic. Darian had heard it at different times,
in dreams, sometimes when he was sitting at a bar after too many beers,
or when he was out alone on the Styx; but he had heard it often enough
to recognize it when it came. I'll  kill you. I'll kill you all. You and your children and theirs, through
all time, through all eternity. . . .
The words had come to him on the day his wife and son died.
And now he knew: it was a promise.
/'// kill you. I'll kill you all.
Darian's breath came ragged.
He rummaged inside the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wad of
paper. Scraps, all with writing on them. Appointments, jobs long finished,
reminders. And a business card. AIDON Saint  JAMES, it read in flowing italic
script.
The diamond.
The devil had come back to life with the diamond.
Darian hopped lightly onto the dock and crossed the road toward Eddie's.
He put a quarter into the pay phone, dialed, and waited.
 Saint  James residence," an English male voice answered.

 Darian McCabe. Let me talk to him."
 I'm afraid Mister Saint  James "
 Get him."
After a moment, the phone was picked up.  Well, Mister McCabe. What a
pleasure."
 I'll sell you the stone," Darian said.

DARIAN   SAM WALKED INTO THE MUSEUM JUST AFTER 8 A  M . WOODSON
was seated at his desk, the diamond pendant in front of him. Darian marched
forward, crossed his arms, and growled.  All right, you're the one wanted
to see us so bad. What is it?"
 Can I get you some coffee?" Woodson asked mildly.
 No. Just get to it. I might be able to line us up a job today, though I
doubt it, having to run in here to do your bidding."
 I'm sorry," Woodson said.  I offered to come to you."
McCabe had told Woodson about the proposed sale in a predawn phone
call to the museum official's home that morning.  Just want you to know
we'll be transferring the stone to Aidon Saint  James. So's you don't think he's
stealing it," he had said. It was then that Woodson had convinced him to
bring Sam in for one last meeting.
 What time is your meeting with Mister Saint  James?"
 Seven o'clock tonight. He wants us to come for dinner on that fancy
yacht of his."
 And you're going to talk terms about the diamond?"
 I am if he offers more than five million bucks for it," Darian said with
a grin, which quickly faded.  Is that what you called us here for? To make
sure you get your finder's fee?"
 No, it's nothing like that. But the stone itself . . . the diamond . . ."
Woodson spread his hands.  I'm not sure you should be selling it so quickly.
It might be of more scientific importance than we'd thought."
Darian gazed heavenward.  Oh? So you're a big jewelry expert now? The
last time we were here, you didn't know donkey-doo about gems."
 I've been doing some reading."
 On this diamond?"
 No. There is nothing on this diamond. That's one of the things that's so
peculiar," Woodson said.  All the great stones are catalogued somewhere.
They have histories. When some man in India showed up with a so-called
unknown stone, it was recognized immediately as a fragment of the great
Cullinan diamond that Napoleon's soldiers had stolen a hundred years
before."

Darian's face was grim.  Are we supposed to be interested in all this?"
Woodson tried to ignore him, to address himself to Sam.  Your stone
has no history. We've looked at every source, and there's absolutely nothing
on a thousand-carat, shield-shaped diamond with sixteen facets. The stone
seems to have come out of nowhere."
 It came from the bottom of the sea, for God's sake," Darian snapped.
 But it's cut. It's not a raw stone. It was a treasure of a civilized society
somewhere. And yet there's no record whatsoever."
 Which means what?" Sam asked.
 Well, this sounds bizarre, but it occurs to me that it might have come
from a civilization so remote in time that it was never recorded. If it did,
then the stone and its pendant could be an archaeological find of stupendous
magnitude."
Darian scowled.
 I'm just suggesting that you not rush into a sale prematurely. I realize
that you stand to make a lot of money on the sale of this diamond, but if
it can be proven to be a genuine relic and can lead to further discoveries,
the pendant's value would be beyond price." He paused, a look of desperation on his face.  I'd hate to see something like that cut into jewelry. It
would be a great loss."
The old man sighed.  Remember what your diamond expert said? Cave 
men didn't cut diamonds."
 Yes, but what if there was a civilization before cavemen?" Woodson
asked.  Sam, you saw the image of a volcano. I've seen it, too. I was part
of the experiment on Memory Island."
 Darian told me that, but "
 We all saw it."
Sam cast an accusing look at Darian.  Jamie, too?"
 Every one of us." He limped over to a shelf and picked up an open
book.  We saw this," Woodson said, holding out the opened pages.
It was a photograph of a smooth stone wall engraved with the likeness
of an erupting volcano.  That photo was taken almost seventy years ago
in an underwater cave in the Western Pyrenees. Archaeologists have guessed
the date of this drawing at approximately eight thousand B C E."
 Ten thousand years ago?" Sam squinted at the picture, feeling his temples
throbbing. It was not like the volcano of his vision; it was the same one. It
was flanked on either side by some kind of tall structure. To the right, below
the hillside, was a mass of frothing waves. The extreme right section of the
carving was badly eroded. Sam touched the area gently with his fingertip.
 Boats," he said.  There were boats here."
 Probably," Woodson said.  Look underneath them."
Beneath the eroded area were more waves. Among them, at the very
bottom of the carving, was a shield-shaped object that had been chiseled
deep into the cave wall.
 The diamond," Sam said with amazement.  That's the stone."
Darian snatched the book from him.  You got to have a damn good
imagination to see a diamond in that," he said.
 It's got eight facets on its face," Woodson argued.  You can see them
in the drawing."
                                             
 Look more like scratches to me," Darian said.
 Then what do you think it is?" Woodson jabbed at the object in the
photograph with his finger.
Darian shrugged.  Stingray. A rock, maybe. Hell, it could be anything."
He slammed the book shut.  Ten thousand years old, my ass. In case you
two geniuses didn't know, people who live on mountains don't use boats."
He turned the book over to see its spine. It was old, its leather cracked
and dry with age. The gold lettering of the title was nearly gone, but it had
been stamped into the leather: LOST LEGENDS OF THE ANCIENTS.
 Oh, wonderful," he said. You want me to pass up five million dollars
because you read something in a book of frickin" legends?"
 Let him talk," Sam said. He nodded to Woodson.
 The Basques, who live in the part of Spain where that cave etching was
found, tell a story of a great stone called the Eye of Zeus," Woodson began.
 At least, that's how it was translated."
 Zeus?" Sam repeated.  That's Greek, isn't it?"
 It might be  Zos." The origins of the Basque language are so obscure
that the word is untraceable. But it apparently referred to some sort of deity,
so the archaelogists used  Zeus." A little romantic leeway, I guess."
 Eye of Zeus," Darian scoffed.
 Anyway, the legend says that Zeus or Zos, or whatever had a magical
stone the color of water and the size of a man's heart with which he defeated
the armies of his enemies and created a kingdom which would rule the
Earth forever. But the king was betrayed by his own kinsman who vowed
to destroy him and all his descendants. A great flood came, the king was
killed, and the kingdom which was meant to rule forever sank beneath the
sea."
 The sea in the mountains," Darian said.
 Clearly this is one of the flood legends," Woodson said.  In addition to
the one in the Bible, there are stories in nearly every country in the world
about a great flood in the ancient past. There are so many legends of this
type that historians have come to believe there must be at least a grain of
truth in them."
 What a pile of crap," Darian muttered.
Woodson looked to Sam for some acknowledgment, but the young man
had picked up the book again and was reading it, his forehead creased in
a frown.
 There's more to the legend," Sam said.
 I was getting to that."
Darian shoved his hands into his pockets and walked to the window.
 This ought to be good," he said.
Sam cleared his throat and read aloud. "  From that day to this, the enemies
of King Zeus have searched the Earth for survivors from that deluge, slaying
them where they were found, in the temples of knowledge and among the
common folk who themselves had forgotten the eternal land from which
they came. But because the magical eye was lost, returning to the water
from which it was made, these enemies had no stone to guide them, and
they have been unable to destroy all the king's descendants." He looked
from one man to the other. "  No stone to guide them," " he repeated.  What
do you think that means?"
Darian" strode across the room and ripped the book from Sam's hands.
He flipped through it contemptuously.  Indian legends," he scoffed.  Prester
John. Noah's Ark. Zeus's magic eyeball. I bet there's something in here
about Goldilocks and the Three Bears." He tossed it onto the coffee table.
Woodson looked at the floor.  After everybody in Bonner's experiment
was killed   ."
 Everyone but you," Darian said.
 No fault of theirs."
 How's that?"
Woodson told him about the events following the explosion the deaths
of the Rememberers who had not been on the island during the incident,
his own attempted murder.  That's how I got the bends," he said.
 Did you call the police?"
 No," he said quietly.  I hid."
Darian stared at him for a long, silent moment.
Finally Sam spoke.  I think it's happening all over again," he said.  Some 
body's trying to kill  " he almost could not bring himself to say the word,
but he forced himself " psychics," he whispered.  People like you and
the other Rememberers. And Darian's son. And me. And the diamond's got
something to do with it."
 Well, you can stop worrying about that," Darian said.  After tonight,
that stone's going to be somebody else's problem."
 Maybe it isn't the problem," Sam ventured.  Maybe it's the solution."
He turned his hands palm up.  What I'm saying is, maybe it was meant to
come back to us."
 Us? Since when did you become the owner of this rock?" Darian spat.
 I only meant that if it's the same diamond of the legend, then it's . . .
special."
 Because some foreigners called it the Eye of Zip?"
 God, I wish Jamie were here," Woodson said softly.
Darian looked up.  What's that?"
 Your son, Mister McCabe. I know you don't much hold with it, but Jamie
had a true gift. Of all of us, he was the only one who really knew how to
use his power. And that's what it was, power. That kid was . . . well, once
you got to know him, you couldn't think of him as a kid anymore. He was
more like   ."
 Like what?" Darian asked.
 Like . . . well, a prophet, sort of. Or a   . a god."
The old man looked away.
 A god.
 Jamie wasn't a god, nothing like it. But he was never a child, either.
He had always known things that took most people a lifetime to understand.
That was why I let him go join Bonner's program. Jamie had needed to
do it, and no matter what I said, he wouldn't change his mind.
 Something's coming, Dad, " he told me.  I don't know what it is yet, but
it's important, and I think I can help. "
 By doing what? Teaching Bonner and those swamis and potheads of
his how to play hopscotch?"
 By seeing things other people can't see. "
So I let him go and he died.
He was a kid, that's all," Darian said quietly.
 I think you know he was more than that," Woodson answered.  After
one of the meetings on Memory Island the one where we all saw the
volcano Bonner asked me to take Jamie out in a boat. Your son led us to
the Peaks."
 You took him to the Peaks?" Darian asked angrily.
 Jamie had insisted on going. He was the one who first said that the
volcano we'd all seen wasn't a vision so much as a memory. That's why we
called doctor  Bonner's place Memory Island. But Jamie felt that the volcano
was just the beginning of this group memory we shared. He said there was
more to it than we knew, and that we'd need a certain stone to see the rest
of it. A stone that would make us all see with one eye, was how he put it,
so that we'd be able to find our way to where the memory began."
 And the stone was at the Peaks," Sam said.
 Yes."
Darian sat back.  A stone that makes you see with one eye," he repeated
caustically.  Just like your Eye of Zorro. That's really something, how you
can recollect his exact words."
 When Jamie spoke, everybody listened," Woodson said, bristling.
 Everybody except you."
The old man's hand snaked out and grabbed him by his tie.  You don't
know nothing about how I raised my son, you crippled-up "
 Quit it, Darian," Sam said, pulling him off.  Are you all right?" he asked
Woodson.
The black man straightened his tie.  Yeah. It was my fault, anyway. I
was out of line. It's just that it's so damned frustrating to talk to you, McCabe."
The old man glared at him.
 Did you make the dive?" Sam asked.  For the stone."
 No. The weather started to turn and I didn't want to get caught out there
in a storm, so we went back. And afterward . . ." Afterward, Jamie had been
killed. He said simply,  I never had a chance to bring it up again."
 So now we just have to take your word for it that that's what happened,"
Darian sneered.
 damn it, you don't have to take my word for anything! I've spent my
whole life trying to forget that experiment, forget what happened to Jamie
and the others." He looked down at his own gnarled body.  Trying to forget
what happened to me. But the fact is, I can't forget. And when I read that
legend in the book, it made me think that maybe I shouldn't forget. That's
why I wish you'd hold off on Saint  James for a few days. I'd like to find out
what else is down there."
Sam sucked in his breath.  You mean the museum will underwrite a
dive?"
 No, I'm afraid there isn't enough evidence for that. You found the dia 
mond because of a feeling you had. That's not enough for the museum
board, but it's enough for me. I'd make the dive with you."
 Oh, then you won't have anything to worry about this time, Sam," Darian
said.  Old Woodson here's going to look after you down in the Peaks."
 I don't suffer the bends underwater," Woodson said, ignoring the sar 
casm.  And I have a submersible, a small two-man submarine. It's equipped
for decompression."
Sam gave him a crooked smile.  How'd you get the museum to buy a
submarine?"
 It doesn't belong to the museum. It's mine. I built it myself. I've been
working on it for eight years."
 How many times you take it down?" Darian asked belligerently.
 I haven't. Not yet. But I trust my own work. I'm willing to go. If we find
something, the board might grant a full exploration of the area."
Darian laughed.  You mean you're willing to risk Sam's neck on your
homemade tub so you can find another diamond for yourself."
Woodson slumped into a chair and wiped his hands over his face.  All
right," he said at last.  I give up. I was hoping you'd see things differently
after I told you my ideas, but I admit they're pretty strange." He stood up
and offered his hand.  It's your stone, Mister McCabe," he said.  Good luck
on your sale."
"  Bout time you got your nose out," Darian said, shaking the man's hand.
 Now give me the diamond. I'm taking it with me."
Woodson's expression was shocked.  You can't do that."
 Watch me." Darian picked up the diamond and stuck it in his pocket.
 At least alert Saint  James that it's coming. He can send a guard for it, or
something."
The old man walked out.
         CHAPTer      11
HE'S NUTS," WOODSON SAID.
 I know." Sam picked up the book, which had lain on the table beside
his chair. It opened to the page with the picture of the volcano,
 You can keep that," Woodson said.  I won't need it anymore."
 You might," Sam said.  Still want to make that dive?"
Woodson looked at him incredulously for a moment, then grinned.  Hell
yes. I just have to make a few last adjustments to the sub. Can you hold
McCabe back on the sale?"
Sam shook his head.  Like you said, it's his rock. But we  won't need it
to find whatever else is down there." His gaze was pulled back to the book.
  No stone to guide them, " he said, reading from the text.  That's a lot
like what you were telling us Jamie said about the stone in the Peaks. Seeing
with one eye." He squeezed his eyes shut.  It's so hard to make sense
of all this, but I know it's connected somewhere. We're connected. You,
me, Jamie McCabe, even Darian. And others, too. It's almost as if we're . . .
gathering for something.   ."
His eyes met Woodson's.  Two days ago I met doctor  Bonner's granddaughter. She says I have the same kind of blood as the Rememberers."
Woodson raised his eyebrows.
 She thinks that people with that kind of blood are being murdered all
over the country."
Woodson coughed, then choked.  McCabe told me about the guy with
the gun, but "
 It isn't just me whoever it is wants dead. It's everyone like me."
 Good God," Woodson said.  Just like before." He swallowed hard.  But
why? I was never able to figure that out the last time."
 Maybe that's what we'll find out at the Peaks," Sam said.
Darian was not able to find them a job for the day, since the undersea
seismic activity had worsened and the Coast Guard was broadcasting contin 
uous advisories warning boats to stay in port until the waters had calmed.
Instead they stayed on board the Styx, cleaning the engine room while
Darian railed against the weather.
 It's the Peaks," Sam said idly.  Something's happening. You can almost
smell it in the air "
 Shut up!" McCabe snapped.  I'm sick and tired of your foolishness. Now
it's volcanoes. What's next week? Men from Mars? I'm selling the diamond,
and that's that. Afterward, you can go your own way."
 What? I didn't say anything about the diamond."
 You don't expect me to stay on this old tub shoveling sludge out of
canals for the rest of my life, do you?" the old man ranted on.  You got an
education. It's about time you used it. Get a regular job. Inland. Or don't.
Whatever you want. Hell, you won't never have to work again. Spend your
days at the dogtrack, for all I care."
 I'm not taking any of that money, Darian."
 You damned well better. You won't have me to support you after next
week."
 What happens then?"
 You're leaving, that's what." He polished the engine so energetically
that he was panting with the effort.
 Now wait a minute, Darian "
 I said you're leaving!"
Sam tossed his rag over his shoulder.  Why do you want me to go?" he
asked quietly.
The old man was silent.
 Why?"
Darian took a couple of swipes at the engine with his rag, then stopped,
his hand trembling.  Jamie knew he was going to die," he said in a whisper.
 What?"
 He woke up screaming one night. His ma and me, we tried waking him
up, shook him and all, but he couldn't seem to come out of whatever kind
of nightmare he was having. He just kept screaming. Finally he woke up
and he looked at us with those old eyes he had, eyes like somebody who'd
looked into the gates of hell. Darian closed his eyes for a moment,
remembering.  He said,  I've come at the wrong time. It's no good." And I
told him he was still dreaming, but he shook his head and told me,  I won't
be here much longer, Dad." Just like that."
 What'd you say?"
Darian wiped his nose on the back of his hand.  Oh, I don't know. Told
him to be quiet and go to sleep, most likely. But I knew he believed what
he said. He was so still inside, like a rock. Maybe part of me believed him,
too. But I didn't do anything. I watched the devil come out of the Peaks
and take my boy, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do."
He held onto one of the pipes so tightly that his knuckles stood out
white.  Did you know he died on the same day you were born?"
Sam shook his head.
 When you showed up, it was like seeing him alive again." He stood up
slowly.  Like getting another chance."
He turned around, his face set in a scowl, but his eyes betrayed the terror
he felt.  Now the sea's turned inside out again, just like it did then, and I
         
know what it means. The devil's coming. But he's not going to take you.
That diamond's going to get you away from this place." He slapped his rag
against the engine housing.  You're leaving next week."
 Darian "
 Don't make me beg you," the old man said.
book three.
THE VOYAGE
For many generations, as long as the divine nature lasted in
them, they were obedient to the laws and well affectioned
toward the gods, who were their kinsmen: For they pos 
sessed true and in every way great spirits, practicing gentle 
ness and wisdom in the various chances of life, and in their
intercourse with one another. They despised everything but
virtue, not caring for their present state of life, and thinking
lightly on the possession of gold and other property, which
seemed only a burden to them. Neither were they intoxicated
by luxury; nor did wealth deprive them of their self 
control. But when this divine portion began to fade away
in them and became diluted too often, and with too much
of the mortal admixture, and the human nature got the upper
hand, then they, being unable to bear their fortune, became
unseemly, and to him who had an eye to see, they began to
appear base, and had lost the fairest of their precious gifts.
But to those who had no eye to see the true happiness, they
still appeared glorious and blessed at the very time when they were filled with
unrighteous avarice and power. Zeus, the god of gods, who rules with law, and is
able to see into such things, perceiving that an honorable race was in a most wretched
state, and wanting to inflict punishment on them, that they might be chastened and
improved, collected all the gods into his most holy habitation, which, being placed
in the center of the world, sees all things that partake of generation. And when he
had called them together he spoke as follows . . .
The manuscript ends here.
Plato (c. 375 B C )
CHAPTer 1.      
HaDON Saint  JAMES HAD SENT A SMALL DINGHY TO THE DOCK AT JUPITe r INLET
to bring McCabe and Sam out to his yacht for dinner. The yacht, the Pinnacle,
was visible out in the east, lit up and twinkling like a cruise ship.
The dinghy itself, bobbing on the turbulent water, was manned by two
sailors in formal blue uniforms.  We've come to take you to Mister Saint  James,
sir," one of them called to Darian as they pulled alongside the Styx.
 Oh, have you, now?" Darian asked with unaccustomed sweetness.
 Yes, sir."
 Well, you two just prance on out of here," Darian barked.  There's no
way we're going out in this kind of water in that. We'll take our own craft.
You two boys can go back to that floating whorehouse you work on."
The dinghy pulled away quickly. It was a half hour later before Darian
and Sam pulled their salvage boat alongside the glittering yacht which barely
moved in the rough sea. Two crewmen in brilliant white uniforms lowered
a gangway ladder from the Pinnacle's deck.
Aidon Saint  James, wearing a navy blue blazer over a silk T-shirt, was on
deck to greet them.  Thanks for coming," he said warmly.  I hope you
haven't changed your minds."
 He's got nothing to do with it," McCabe said.  And no, I haven't."
Dinner was served in an opulent salon of mahogany and brass, with a
crystal chandelier hanging over the long table. Sam thought it looked like
the last night aboard the Titanic. He half expected a string quartet to start
playing.
A half dozen servants were on hand to serve the four people present 
Darian, Sam, Saint  James, and his son, Liam, who stiffly shook hands with the
guests when introduced and then sat staring into his soup plate.
There was a vague likeness between father and son around the set of
the jaw; both were square and massive. But the rest of Saint  James's features
were quick and mobile, expressing a vast range of emotions in the twinkling
of an eye, while Liam's face was as sullen and placid as a herd cow's. His
nose was a shapeless, claylike lump, looking as if it had been broken long
ago and never set. His skin, too, had the shallow, bumpy cast of someone
who ate the wrong food, and, judging from the boy's pudgy body, too much
of it.
But it was Liam's eyes that held Sam's attention. They did not fit with the
boy's clean hair and well-made clothes.
Sam had always thought it had something to do with being rich. Ever since
he was a foundling, Sam had been fascinated by  outside" kids, children who
didn't live at the orphanage. Kids who had parents.
Sam would look for them in the park, during the Little League games
when Saint  Anne's would play suburban community teams. There they'd be,
the outside kids, trying to look tough and ignoring their folks in the bleachers
on the other side of the fence, as if the cheering and waving didn't mean
squat to them.
But their eyes gave them away. They were naive kid eyes, trusting, expectant eyes filled with confidence and hope. They were the eyes of kids who
were used to having people listen when they talked. One look at them, and
Sam had known that their little lives had been jam-packed from morning
till night with adults who laughed at their jokes and hung their drawings
on the kitchen walls. Sweet-smelling mothers who kissed them too much.
Jerky dads who tossed them into the air like bags of flour, while the kids
laughed like idiots.
Their eyes had filled Sam with longing. The kids at Saint  Anne's didn't have
eyes like that. Saint  Anne's kids looked at you sidelong, assessing you, trying
to figure out why you were there, what you were going to do to them, how
they could get something from you before you took everything from them.
They had eyes that looked in the mirror and felt ashamed every morning.
Liam Saint  James had those kind of eyes. Saint  Anne's eyes.
Just go over the side. Get it over with.
Sam jolted upright.
 Mister Smith?"
Sam coughed, trying to get his bearings. Who had spoken?
 I asked if the soup was all right. You don't seem to be eating." Saint  James
was smiling at him.
 Oh, no, it's fine." Sam picked up his spoon and forced himself to swallow.
 Delicious."
Darian pushed his bowl away.  Tastes like celery juice." A servant scurried to remove the bowl.  I didn't come here to eat, anyway."
 No, of course not," Saint  James said.  Whatever's your pleasure."
 My pleasure is five million dollars," Darian said.  It's worth more, and
you know it. I want cash or a cashier's check. When it's deposited in my
account at the West Palm bank, the diamond's yours."
 I haven't even seen the stone yet," Saint  James protested mildly.
 But your stooge, that gem guy Eames or whatever his name is, did. You
know what it is and what it looks like," Darian said.
 Mister Eames is just a colleague who keeps his eyes open for items that
might interest me," Saint  James explained,  Do you have the stone with you?"
 You take me for a fool?"
 I'm sorry about that. I had wanted Liam to see it."
 Plenty of time for that after I get the money," Darian said.
Saint  James opened and closed his mouth, then threw his hands up in the
air as if conceding a victory.  Your price is fine," he said with a gracious
smile.  You'll have the money tomorrow."
 Good enough."
Darian started to shuffle in his chair as if getting ready to leave, but Sam
interjected,  I suppose you'll have the stone cut into smaller pieces."
Saint  James shook his head.  I want it the way it is."
 What'll you do with it?"
 I'll own it. That's enough." Saint  James sat back in his chair and bridged
his fingers before him.
 Does this stone have any history that you know of?" Sam asked.
Aidon smiled.  What do you mean?"
 Well, the man at the museum said that most big diamonds have some
sort of story behind them . . . who owned it, where it came from, things
like that."
 They call it  provenance, " Saint  James said.
Sam nodded.  But his researchers weren't able to find out anything at
all about this stone."
 Maybe that's what makes it so unique."
 Then you've never heard of something called the Eye of Zeus?"
Saint  James looked at him with a sharp intake of breath.  Where did you
hear that?"
 I read it in a book. There were some cave drawings in Spain   . or
France . . . someplace." Sam shrugged.
 I'm afraid there are all sorts of legends about  lost" diamonds, most
of which never existed. The Eye of Zeus is a particularly elaborate tale,
undoubtedly created to boost stock in treasure hunting expeditions."
 All it told about in the book was a story about how some king used it
to defeat his enemies."
 Ah, then you haven't been able to enjoy the full thrust of the fairy tale,"
Saint  James said.  In the first place, it wasn't just any king. It was Zeus himself,
ostensibly in the days when Mount Olympus was a real place, before it
became the stuff of Greek legend."
Darian crossed his arms and grunted, visibly annoyed that Sam had pro 
longed this visit by bringing up Woodson's ridiculous legend.
 I read about that stuff in school," Sam said. He glanced across the table
at Saint  James's son.  You ever read about that, Liam?"
Before the startled boy could answer, Saint  James waved his arms expansively.  Of course he has. Zeus, king of the gods, who ruled the sky with
the aid of a thunderbolt. His brothers, Poseidon and Hades, who had charge
of the sea and the underworld. His colorful children. Let me see." He sighed.
 There was Hephaestus, the blacksmith, and Athena, goddess of wisdom.
Aphrodite, a great beauty and goddess of love. Ares, god of war. Apollo,
god of music and medicine and all things strange and lovely. And his twin
sister, Artemis, the huntress . . ."
He spread his hands.  I'm afraid I can't remember the others. The Greeks
borrowed most of these deities from other cultures," he said.  But their
fabrication was so elaborate that the whole bunch of them remained intact
as a religion for several thousand years."
 But the Eye of Zeus . . ."

"Oh, that. I guess some enterprising fellow, history's answer to a best-
selling novelist, apparently took the Greek mythology one step further and
claimed that the gods really had existed, as real people, during some point
in European prehistory."
"How long ago could that have been?" Sam asked. "If it was true?"
"Oh, who knows," Saint James said. "Pundits of that sort of thing say it
had to have taken place before the beginning of the Egyptian civilization,
since the Egyptians would have written about any contemporaneous society.
And that's the hole in the story, because before the Egyptians, there was
very little in the way of civilization."
"Cavemen," Darian suggested.
"Exactly. So maybe what really happened was that in some Neanderthal
settlement, the ruler of a particularly large tribe was named something like
Zeus. And maybe he found a big crystal one day somewhere, and all the
enemies he fought thought the crystal gave him power. And there you have
it—the Eye of Zeus."
"I saw a picture of a cave drawing with a stone like this one," Sam said.
"It was a cut stone."
"It was a stingray," Darian grumbled.
Saint  James laughed. "I'm acquainted with the drawing. Unfortunately, it's
been fairly well established that the so-called gem pictured in it was a much
later addition to the original art." He looked at Sam with a mixture of pity
and contempt.
"Oh," Sam said lamely.
"Sorry to disappoint you. It is a lovely idea. I wish it were true, too." Saint 
James looked at Darian again and said, "I'm very sorry you didn't bring it
with you."
As Sam looked at the millionaire, suddenly the vision in front of his eyes
began to shimmer like a mirage. The handsome millionaire's blue blazer
appeared to transform into a costume of bilowing black robes. His head
was covered by a gigantic mask of exotic bird feathers which extended over
his shoulders like a cape. In his hands, replacing his soup spoon, was an
elaborate bronze dagger.
Sam's jaw dropped open as he stared dumbly at his host.
The devil, that's what he is.
"What?" His head snapped toward Liam. "Did you say something?"
The boy sullenly shook his head.
Sam wiped his forehead with his napkin.
"Are you all right, mister Smith?" Saint James asked.
"I'm fine," Sam managed to mutter, noting that the millionaire was again
dressed in a blue blazer and innocently eating his soup.
Fine, except that he was going crazy again.
He was not only seeing hallucinations, but he was hearing voices again,
too. Since his release from the hospital, he had managed to convince himself
that the plaintive call of the woman he had heard during his session with
Cory Althorpe had been an outgrowth of the unusual psychic connection
between himself and the psychiatrist. Together, he had decided, the two
of them had picked up the transmission from a radio somewhere. But what
he had just heard was a completely different voice.
1

A boy's voice.
He looked again at Liam, who was rising quickly from his chair. "Excuse
me," the boy said. His hands lingered for a moment on the arms of the chair
as if to steady himself. His face was waxen and pale. A drop of sweat rolled
onto his cheek. Saint James gave the boy a glance of annoyance as Liam bolted
from the room.
Sam got up and followed him. "I'll be right back," he said.
There was no sign of the boy when Sam stepped out on deck, but the air
felt cool and welcome. He stopped at the rail, breathing in the salt breeze
in deep gulps.
Do it do it do it coward
"No!" Sam shouted. Without reason or words, he suddenly understood
everything. He ran to the yacht's stern, knowing, simply knowing what the
boy was about to do.
He heard the splash just as he turned the corner around the massive
cabin. Kicking off his shoes, Sam leaped over the rail into the water twenty
feet below.
Liam fought him, but the boy was not strong. When he tried to breathe
in water, Sam clapped his hand over the boy's nose and mouth and yanked
him upward to the surface, where he got the crook of his arm around Liam's
throat and forced him to breathe.
"Why'd you come?" he asked accusingly, hanging limp in Sam's arms.
"I heard you talking."
The boy's head snapped toward him sharply.
Just then the first mate blew a whistle. Within another minute, a dinghy
lowered from the deck and two crewmen pulled Liam and Sam into the
small boat.
Almost before their feet touched the Pinnacle's deck, Saint James ordered
the first mate back to the dinghy. "Get the boy to West Palm Hospital right
away." 
"I'm all right," the boy protested. "I just fell overboard, that's all."
Saint James ignored him. "I'll call ashore and have a car waiting for you,"
he told the mate.
"I don't think he needs to go to a hospital," Sam ventured.
"I think I may be better qualified than you to judge what my son needs," Saint James snapped. "Call the emergency room from the car phone," he
barked to the mate. "Tell them I want a thorough physical examination."
He banged his fist on the rail, then turned meekly to Sam. "Forgive me
for losing my temper just now," he said. "You see, it isn't the first time Liam
has tried this sort of dramatics."
"He said he fell."
"He didn't fall. He staged a mock suicide, knowing full well he would
be rescued before any damage was done. Unfortunately, it's his way of
protesting my decision not to buy him a sports car."
The first mate whispered something to him. Saint  James nodded and the
mate climbed down the ladder to the waiting dinghy. Liam, wrapped in a
blanket, was pushed toward him. The boy never looked at his father as he
passed him.
 Don't have children," Saint  James admonished Sam with a smile.
 Aren't you going with him?"
 No need." Saint  James touched Sam's elbow.  Thank you for your help.
Now please come inside. I'll get you some dry clothes, and we can get back
to dinner."
Sam looked back at Liam, huddled in his blanket on the dinghy.  I'm not
hungry," he said, vaulting over the railing onto the ladder.
The mate looked to Saint  James, who shrugged disdainfully.  Let him go
along if he wants," he said.
Sam scrambled into the dinghy next to the boy.  Did you pull that stunt
because your old man wouldn't get you a car?"
The boy looked at him with dead eyes. Saint  Anne's eyes.  That's what he
told you, huh?" A mirthless puff of air escaped his lips.
 Why's he lying, Liam?"
 Who knows? Just one of his mind games. What's it to you, anyway?" He
shivered.
  . . Coming something's coming something's . . .
 What's coming?" Sam asked gently.
 The knife! The sacrificial "
He looked up at Sam, suddenly aware that the man was hearing his
thoughts.
Sam rearranged the blanket around the boy's shoulders.  Relax, kid."
Liam edged away from him.  I don't need you," he said.

chapter 2.


Sam sighed.  I wish you didn't," he said softly.
WHEN CORY ALTHORPE STEPPED INTO THE OPEN DOOR OF CAROL ANN'S
room, a young man in nursing scrubs stood alongside the sleeping girl,
looking at the green-screened monitors arrayed on a shelf behind the bed.
At first she was startled, then suspicious. She stood silently, watching the
man, but he just seemed intent on scanning the monitors. When he saw her
in the doorway, the young man flashed her a big grin. He walked toward
her so that his voice wouldn't disturb the sleeping patient.
 Hi, doctor  Althorpe. I'm Brian Hartman, from the emergency room. I just
stopped up to see how the girl's doing."
 You know her?" Cory asked.
The burly young man shook his head.  Just saw her when she came in
last night. I wouldn't have given a dime for her chances then. She was
hanging on by a string." He shook his head as he glanced at the monitor.
 And now all her signs are normal." He grinned.  You doctors must be
practicing some kind of medicine the rest of us don't know anything about."
He was so hearty and open faced that Cory relaxed in his presence.  I
wish we were," she said.  It's as big a mystery to us as anyone else."
 Well, God love her," Hartman said.  It's good for people who work in
hospitals to see miracles once in a while. Reminds us that we're human."
He checked his watch.  I've got to get back downstairs. Anything you'd
like me to do with the patient?"
 Thanks, Brian, but no. I'm just going to hang around for a while and
keep an eye on her."
 Okey-doke. If you need anything, call. I'm on all night."
She stepped aside to let the young man leave the room. Knowing someone
as kind and big as Hartman was nearby made her feel comfortable for
the first time that day. She had been on edge since her meeting last night
with that log, Darian McCabe, and had felt too hellish to sleep.
Today she had checked on Carol Ann between every round, hoping the
girl would feel like talking, but she had been asleep each time.
Cory pulled a chair alongside Carol Ann's bed and sat down. She was
off duty now and had nowhere better to spend the time. Besides, she could
not dismiss the possibility that the girl was in danger. If she possessed
anywhere near the psychic ability Cory thought she did, Carol Ann would
be a prime target for whoever was killing people like her.
She shifted her chair so that she could watch the sleeping girl and the
doorway at the same time. Somehow, she knew, it was all tied in to that
Swiss blood lab and its director, Gerald Heaney.
Heaney had been her grandfather's assistant. Once she had recognized
the name, she had been able to put a vaguely remembered face with it:
Heaney, an intense young man who had seemed to worship Edward Bonner.
But why would Heaney be behind a series of murders?
Cory looked over at Carol Ann, who was sleeping so deeply that she
appeared comatose. Suddenly frightened, she picked up the girl's chart and
read it. The chart indicated that the patient had been given no sedatives
since the previous night.
Cory replaced the chart and then carefully studied the monitors over the
bed. Carol Ann's heartbeat was slow and strong. Her respiration was deep
and normal. She was sound asleep. Nothing more.
She's safe here, Cory told herself. If she had voiced her fears to the police,
they would have laughed in her face. Who would go to so much trouble
to kill a homeless teenager just because she saw visions?
She had to stop imagining things. There was no reason to panic just
because circumstances didn't make sense at the moment. Everything would
undoubtedly look better after a good night's rest, which she would get as
soon as she left the hospital in an hour or two.
Yes, that was what she needed, a long soak in the tub and an early
bedtime. She would feel better in the morning.
Cory leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. A moment later she
was asleep.
It was just a routine knifing.
Three floors below the room where Cory dozed, Brian Hartman and a
doctor in the hospital's emergency room worked together with practiced
precision to sew up a gash in the forearm of a man who had been brought
to the hospital by a police officer who had stopped a fight in a bar.
It was the first stabbing of the night, about two hours earlier than usual,
Hartman thought. It was going to be a zoo.
He had never been able to figure out a reason for the periods of heavy
traffic in the emergency room. It was usually worse on Friday because Friday
was payday. More people got drunk when they had money in their pockets
and more drunks meant more knife fights. But there were some Fridays
when everyone in the E R could fall asleep without seeing a  customer," as
the staff called the hapless victims.
The weather was another variable: Hot weather made people short 
tempered. Also local events games, boxing matches, baseball, foot 
ball, rock concerts all sometimes contributed to a busy hospital night.
Hartman mused over these vicissitudes of his occupation while he bandaged the knife victim's stitched inner arm because it took his mind off the
man's 86-proof breath.
 You a doctor?" the man asked.
 Nope. I'm a nurse."
 A male nurse." The man snorted up the mucus that was running from
his nose.
 That's right."
 If you ain't a doctor, I don't want you touching me."
 The doctor stitched up your arm. I'm putting on the bandage."
 You hurt me, I'll sue."
 Okay," Hartman said cheerfully.  How about if I stick my foot up your
ass?"
 What?"
 Want to shut up, pal?"
The customer shut up. Not many argued with Hartman. It was one of the
reasons emergency room doctors were always happy to have him on their
shift. A civilized emergency room was a happy place to work.
He had just finished when the E R doctor returned.  Sorry, I had a phone
call," he said. He examined the bandage.  Fine. You can go," he told the
patient.
 What do you mean I can go? Just like that?"
 Just like that," the doctor said.
 Hey, I got knifed, man."
 I know. And we sewed you up. Change the bandage every day. Wash
the wound with liquid soap. See your doctor in a week to get the stitches
removed."
 /thought you were my doctor."
 Wrong again, mister," Hartman said, picking up the doctor's impatience.
 There's the door."
 Yeah, well, maybe I'm going to die," the patient said defiantly.
 Only if you hang around here," Hartman said.
The patient slid from the examining table and ambled toward the door.
He looked back suspiciously as if the hospital staff had implanted a poison
capsule under his skin.
 If I die . . ."
 I know. You'll sue." Hartman waved his fingers at the man.  Good 
bye." 
The doctor sighed.  Thanks," he said.  We've got to clear out the area
a little. Someone's coming in."
 Big accident?"
 No. A teenager. But a special one. That was the administration office
on the phone. Aidon Saint  James is sending his son in."
Hartman whistled.  Honcho. What happened to the kid?"
 Fell off the family yacht, it seems."
 Poor baby. Has the ambulance phoned in yet?"
 It won't." The doctor tried to suppress a smile.  He's coming by limo."
There was nothing wrong with Liam Saint  James, at least nothing that a good
diet wouldn't cure. He had not taken on any water, and his heart and lungs
and blood and bones all looked fine.
Just to be sure, Nurse Hartman noted with disgust, the e r doctor checked
everything twice. Meanwhile, the three men who had brought the youth
in two of them in luxurious uniforms and the third in blue jeans watched
the proceedings from a corner of the examining room. The one in jeans
looked familiar, Hartman thought.
Finally, the doctor stepped back from the boy on the examining table.
 He's fine," he told the waiting men.
 He'll stay the night anyway," a voice said from the door. Hartman turned
and saw doctor  Cohen, the hospital's medical director, who showed up at night
only for hurricane, plane crash, or flood, standing there. Liam Saint  James
was one big-time adolescent, Hartman thought.
The man in jeans stepped forward.  I think that should be up to the boy,"
Sam said.
doctor  Cohen shook his head.  His father wants him to spend the night. I've
already arranged a room for him."
Sam nodded and walked over to Liam's side.  Sorry, kid," he said.  I
tried to get you out of here."
 Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets," Liam said bitterly.
The man wore a black robe. Over his face was a gigantic mask of feathers
than hung down over his shoulders. In his hands was a dark knife that
gleamed dully.
He raised the knife above his head with both hands and then plunged it
down, again and again with repulsive enthusiasm.
Behind him stood another. He was younger, smaller, hidden in the
shadows, but he seemed to be waiting his turn. The man in the black robe
offered the knife to him. And as he stepped forward . . .
Carol Ann awoke with a gasp.
 What is it?" Cory Althorpe sat upright at once.
The girl slumped back onto her pillow.  Just a bad dream."
 Want to tell me about it?"
She shrugged.  Somebody was sacrificing people with knives. Cutting
their " she swallowed with distaste " their hearts out."
Cory came over to the bed and stroked the girl's hair.  I don't think that's
a particularly unusual dream for someone with a chest wound," she said
gently.  How is it, by the way?" She pulled aside the opening of Carol Ann's
hospital gown to look at the bandage.
 Looks good. No seepage."
 It's healed," the girl said.
 I don't think so," Cory said with a smile.  It takes a little longer
than   ."
With a swift movement, Carol Ann removed the bandage.
Not a trace of the bullet wound remained. The gaping rip in her flesh,
incurred only two days earlier, was fully healed over, covered with fresh,
glowing pink baby skin.
With a growing sense of shock and wonder, Cory touched the spot where
the wound had been.                                                                              
 I told you, I heal fast."
Cory felt herself sweating.  This is more than fast," she whispered.  This
is miraculous."
 It takes a lot out of me," the girl admitted shyly.
Cory sat back in the visitor's chair.  Carol Ann, last night you told me
about a vision you had when you were injured. A volcano. A man talking.
Do you remember?"
 Some of it."
 You said something about a stranger. That a stranger would bring people
together."
Carol Ann's head swiveled toward the door.  You're not safe with me,"
she said suddenly.
Cory's eyes locked with the girl's, and for a moment she felt the truth in
Carol Ann's words. She actually rose from her chair, prepared to bolt with
this hospital patient before reason calmed her down.
What am I thinking of? she thought, feeling ashamed at her moment of
panic. Psychic or not, the girl had suffered deep physical and mental trauma.
Not to mention the unearthly concentration it must have required to heal
a gunshot wound, if that was what had happened.
 Of course I'm safe here. We both are," she said.  Why wouldn't we be?"
 Something's coming." Carol Ann shook her head.  I don't know what
it is, but it's bad."
Cory stroked the girl's hair.  I'll order some medication for you so you
can sleep," she said.  I'd like someone else to look at that wound anyway."
She reached for the buzzer to summon the nurse's station.
 No!" Carol Ann clasped Cory's hand.  No, I don't want anyone else in
here. And I can sleep. Really."
 Are you sure?"
Carol Ann nodded.  I was just feeling paranoid. Like the dream I had.
It's probably from getting shot. Bad vibes."
 Mmm," Cory agreed.  All right. I'll let you sleep. But I'll stay here for
a while, just in case."
The girl looked somberly at her.  You want to protect me, don't you?"
Cory smiled.  From what?"
 That's a psychiatrist's answer," Carol Ann said, and closed her eyes.
And that's what's keeping you on the outside, she added to herself.
Like herself, doctor  Althorpe had a gift. Carol Ann had known that the
moment she'd touched the woman's shoulder. There was a power coursing
through Cory Althorpe that was almost as great as her own, but it was
contained, negated, reasoned away. Educated people often distrusted the
gift. That was why so few doctors were real healers.
It was why Cory Althorpe couldn't help her now.


chapter 3.

THE TOURISTS HAD GONE HOME   NONE BUT A HALF DOZEN REGULARS
were left in Eddie's bar and grill. Normally they would have included Darian
in their raucous conversations, but his position at the far end of the bar and
the expression on his face told everyone who knew him that he wanted to
be left alone.
After Sam had left Saint  James's yacht with the pimple-faced boy, Darian
had finished his business with the millionaire.
 Eight o'clock at the bank," Saint  James had suggested as the point of sale.
 The bank president will be there. So will my people."
 Just make sure they bring the money," Darian said. He had clambered
down the ladder to the waiting Styx, ran it back to their dock, then walked
over to Eddie's to wait for Sam's return.
But now it was nearing closing time, and there was still no sign of Sam.
Well, why not? he reasoned after six hours" worth of straight rye. Sam
was young; he might have picked up a woman. He could take care of
himself. And after tomorrow, when Darian had put a couple of million green
ones in his bank account, he would be able to take care of himself a lot
better.
Away from here, he thought.
When Eddie announced last call for drinks, Darian waved his hand at
his empty glass, stood up, and left.
 Don't want to cross him, not in the mood he's in," old Figg said to Eddie.
 Yeah, something's on his mind for sure."
Despite the long night of drinking, Darian was alert as he walked briskly
back toward the Styx. Alert enough to notice that there was a man lounging
in a doorway, across from the dock, and another following casually on
Darian's trail.
Saint  James's men, he thought, though he took no umbrage at their presence.
If he had been Saint  James and about to spend five million dollars on a diamond,
he'd put some guards near the seller too, if only to make sure the guy didn't
get drunk and set himself afire.
When he hopped down onto the boat's deck, he turned back to the street
and announced loudly,  I'm going to bed now, friends. See you in the
morning."
The two men, who indeed were employed by Aidon Saint  James, did not
hear him. They were simultaneously turning toward a battered pickup truck
a hundred yards or so down the street.
The truck appeared to be racing full throttle crosswise over the pavement
toward the curb and the pier beyond it.
The driver of the ancient pickup, they saw, was a woman. A fat old woman
wearing a moth-eaten sweater and a kerchief. She held her hands over her
ears.
 Stop it, stop it, stop!" she screamed.
For seventy-two hours she had driven through a tunnel of voices. First
it was Gram's, familiar and comforting, goading her onward. Then came
the voices of the Rememberers, the Nowars, and Jamie and the colored
college boy named Harrison, voices repeating conversations from the past,
ossified into memory.
A volcano . . .
A volcano, yes, I saw it, too. . . .
Jamie's crying.
Why?
Don't know. It scares me, though. He knows things. . . .
She drove faster. She tried to eat once but could not keep the food down.
She had slept twice, for less than an hour each time, inside the truck.
But the voices never stopped, not even while she slept.
Somewhere in South Carolina, they grew louder. By the time she reached
the Georgia state line, they were screaming, shrieking the final sounds of
their lives over and over again.
 Gram, can't you help me?" she had pleaded. Her vision was obscured
by the torrent of tears running down her face, but she never slowed. She
knew that the voices would not allow her to rest until she found the place
she was looking for.
 But where is it?" she had cried out as she turned blindly onto yet another
highway.  I don't know what the baby looks like now! I don't know where
he lives! I been driving south for three days but for all I know he might be
in Alaska!"
Her voice was hoarse and raspy; her mouth tasted of bile.  Gram, oh,
Gram, please make them stop."
But the voices only grew louder, ringing in her ears until she thought
she would drive the pickup over that pier and into the ocean.
Yes, I'll do that, she decided. Just drive right into the water. She shook
the sweat off her face, then gunned the engine and closed her eyes.
At the edge of the pier, the truck's motor went dead.
 Stop it, stop it, stop!" Reba screamed. Her voice reverberated through
the pickup's passenger compartment, then was still.
Hesitantly she let her hands fall. There was nothing but silence.
Bo would have said it was dirt in the gas line that made the truck stop
dead the way it did.
Reba knew better.
She looked around, blinking owlishly. Two men carrying guns ap 
proached her. One had a flashlight. He directed its beam onto her face.
 Land sakes," she said, squinting against the light.  Who are you, the
police?"
 What are you doing here, ma'am?" one of them asked, politely but firmly.
 Why, I don't rightly know," she answered honestly.  Tell the truth, I
don't even know where I am at the present moment."
The men looked at each other. The flashlight went out.  This is Jupiter
Inlet," one of them said as they turned away.
 Shitfaced," he muttered to his companion.
 I am not shitfaced," Reba objected, but she was too tired to press the
matter. She rolled up the window and leaned her head against it, letting
the silence wash over her like clean water.
 Jupiter Inlet," she whispered.  This is the place, Gram, ain't it?"
Yes, child. The eye of the storm.
 I don't see no storm."
You sleep now, Reba.
The old woman smiled. The voices were gone. The pier was bathed in
moonlight.
Reba Dobbs had arrived.
Something was coming.
Harry Woodson's eyes snapped open and he lay in the dark, feeling his
heart pounding in his chest.
He couldn't remember the dream, except for that one central tenet: Some 
thing was coming.
Gradually his breathing slowed and his heart rate dropped back to normal.
Only then did he let himself be conscious of the rest of his body. Everything
hurt just the way it usually did, except that there was no pain in his hands
or fingers.
With a sigh, Woodson rolled onto his side and then carefully, laboriously,
lowered his feet to the floor.
Twenty years ago, when he had been known as Harrison Wood, Junior,
he had been over six feet tall. But the bends he had suffered in escaping
from his undersea attackers had reduced his stature to a bare five feet, eight
inches. His limbs, too, had never been the same. The pain in his joints was
always with him, but sometimes at night he would wake up and find that
his fingers did not hurt. On those occasions, he would get up, as he did
now, and go outside to work on his small submersible craft.
It was nearly finished except for a few minor connections and some
soldering and bolting on the control panel, and it was only during these
brief respites from pain that he could manage to do that fine detail work.
The job might have been completed long before if he had hired someone
to do it for him, but Woodson trusted no one but himself. The sea, as
God and he knew, was dangerous enough without venturing into it with
equipment that was anything but perfect. He did his own work.
Woodson's house was on the inland waterway, about three-quarters of
a mile from the ocean. He had started building the small submarine in his
yard, but when it drew too much attention from neighborhood youths, he
had built a shed over the adjacent dock and dragged the sixteen-foot craft
inside. There he could work on it day or night, safe from prying eyes.
As he stepped out into the yard, under the bright moonlit sky, he realized
how tired he was. He would rather be back in bed. But his fingers did not
hurt. Deft as a surgeon's, they fairly flew over the tiny components, pushing
him forward.
Something was coming. Woodson had no idea what that something was,
but its approach was certain and, proof or not, he no longer questioned it.
He worked through the night. He was going to need the submersible
soon.
Very soon.
Buttoning his pajamas, Liam Saint  James walked out of the bathroom toward
his bed. Sam was perched sideways on to the window sill of the hospital
room, looking out at the city below.
 Have they gone?" the boy asked.
 Your father's men?" Sam shook his head.  Just downstairs for coffee."
 I didn't think they'd trust me alone."
 Can you blame them?"
 Look, I didn't jump. I fell, all right? I just fell overboard."
 Save your breath, kid."
 Save yours. I told you "
 You told me you were going to jump. You called yourself a coward and
then you jumped. So you must have been right."
Liam stared furiously at him for a moment, then turned away.  I never
said it out loud," he said.
 I know."
 So? What's your explanation for that?" Liam tried to form his lips into his
father's sneer, but his eyes were intent on Sam. Intent and almost pleading.
He really wants an answer, Sam thought. And I don't have one to give
him.
He shrugged.  Maybe we're psychic."
 We?" Liam arched an eyebrow.
 Yeah, we. You saw the knife, too. What was that about, anyway?"
 I didn't see any knife!" Liam shouted.  And I'm not a psychic, understand?
You say that again, and I'll "
 Okay, okay," Sam said.  I won't say it. But that doesn't mean it isn't
true."
 It isn't truel" Liam's hands balled into fists.
 Look, I didn't want to face it either," Sam said.  About myself. I didn't
even want to believe it existed. But it does. And some of us have it stronger
than others. That's all I know." When the boy did not respond, he went
over to him and clapped him on the shoulder.  Think of it as being special."
 Oh, I'm special, all right," Liam said.  You don't know how special."
 What's that mean?"
Liam sniffed and ran his hand over his nose.  Nothing. It didn't mean
anything."
Sam sat on the bed next to him.  I want to ask you something, Liam. Do
you ever have strange dreams?"
 Dreams? I guess so. Like what?"
 Like an exploding volcano. You ever dream about that?"
 No," the boy said. Too quickly, Sam thought.
 How about the knife? Did you see someone in a black robe? And a "
 Get off my back, okay?" Liam shouted.  I'm sick of this psychic bullshit.
Just leave me alone."
He lay back heavily and covered his eyes with his hands as if to shut out
the overhead light. Sam waited for the boy to look at him again, but Liam
seemed content to lie there, shielding himself from any contact with Sam
or the rest of the world.
Sam sighed. If he knows anything, I'm never going to learn what it is,
he thought.
 Okay," he said at last.  I'm going."
As he walked past the end of the bed, he accidentally knocked the nurse's
chart to the floor. He picked it up and replaced it.
 Your two keepers will be back in a   ."
A line on the chart seemed to leap out at him. The line read PHYSICIAN  .
Beside the colon was a name.
Gerald Heaney.
 Gerald Heaney is your doctor," Sam said slowly.
 So? He's been our family doctor for years," Liam answered, peering out
from behind his hands.
Sam felt a wash of relief.  My mistake. I was thinking of a Heaney from
Switzerland."
 Yeah, that's him. He runs a blood lab in Geneva. I go to school there."
Liam propped up on his elbows.
 Has he ever talked about any . . . experiments?"
 What, like some mad scientist?" Liam grinned.
Sam forced himself to smile back.  He ever take blood from you?"
 No. You know, you don't have to go."
 Yes, I do," Sam said.  Take care of yourself, kid."
The events swirled in Sam's mind. doctor  Heaney ran a lab that identified
psychics through their blood. Psychics who ended up murdered. Another
doctor connected with him had tried to kill Sam. And now Heaney turned
out to be Aidon Saint  James's family physician.
At least the boy is all right, he assured himself. Whatever demons might
trouble young Liam, doctor  Heaney was not one of them.
He quickened his steps, feeling the oppressive atmosphere of the hospital,
weighing on him like an oppressive cloak.
It's all connected. The deaths, the diamond, the Peaks. All of it.
Sam needed to breathe. He abandoned his search for the elevator and
ran down the stairwell toward the street.
Close. It's too close.
Carol Ann lay shuddering beneath the sheet on her hospital bed, waiting
for doctor  Althorpe to fall asleep.
The psychiatrist wanted to understand, but she couldn't. Her mind was
still imprisoning her with what it called reason, which was no more than a
steadfast refusal to accept truths that could not be proven in a laboratory.
Even after seeing Carol Ann's healed wound, she would not believe. Even
though she felt it herself, she would not admit that danger was coming, a
danger that would engulf everyone who had the gift.
Silently, with painful slowness, Carol Ann removed the sheet and slipped
from the bed. She glanced in the empty closet, remembering that her blood 
soaked clothes had been too damaged to keep. She would have to find
others.
At the doorway, she looked back at Cory.
The farther away from her I get, the safer she'll be.
For now. In the end, she knew, none of them would be safe.
She peeked into the hall. It was empty. She walked quickly down the
gleaming tiles, trying to plan an escape.
Find clothes and walk out, that's all. No one would notice her; people
rarely did. She was about to turn into another corridor when an eerie wailing
music sounded from somewhere deep inside her mind.
It sent a feeling like an electric shock coursing down her spine.
It's here. Close, real close real close
Swallowing to keep her breath silent, she darted into the nearest room.
Liam Saint  James lay in bed, looking up at her.
 I need your clothes," she whispered desperately as she closed the door
behind her.
He grinned.  Making a break for it?"
 Please."
She walked closer toward him. She was a wraith of a girl, he saw, small
boned and delicate as a fawn, with huge dark eyes and a cascade of flaxen
hair that fell down her back like water with the sun on it.
The sun. That was it. She brought light with her. Just seeing her made
him feel as if he had just walked out of a shadow into a pool of bright,
warm light.
 Help yourself," he said quietly.  Sorry, they might be damp."
 That's okay." Quickly she put on his trousers, which fit her like a tent,
and his white dress shirt.
Liam sat up.  Can I come with you?" he asked suddenly.
 With me?" She hesitated.  You'd better not," she said finally.  It wouldn't
be safe."
He had known he would be rejected. It had been stupid to ask.  What'd
you do, lift some Demerol?" he asked scornfully.
 No." She came over to him and touched his hand.  Thank you."
Liam felt his breath catch. Her touch was like liquid sunshine, filling him,
soothing all the wounds that no one had ever seen. He felt his eyes welling
with tears.
 You'll be all right," she said. Gently she let go of his hand and backed
away into the shadows, toward the door.  Be brave."
Then she was gone, and the light with her.
Be brave? He laughed out loud. Boy, does she have the wrong guy.
He flopped back onto the bed, weeping silently into his pillow.
Liam loved his father. He tried to remember that: / love my father.
It was his father who raised him alone after his mother killed herself.
Though he was one of the most important men of the twentieth century,
Aidon Saint  James had spent every summer with Liam since he was seven
years old. And not just nominally, allowing the boy merely to sleep in the
same dwelling as he did, but purposefully, focusing his full attention on
Liam, leaving his business and his fortune in the hands of others for three
months out of every year so that they could spend the time together.
Granted, their activities were not the usual things fathers and sons
shared there was no basketball or bowling or forays to the miniature golf
course. There were no video games or friends. No outings. No nights at the
movies. No music lessons, no TV, no conversations.
There were lessons.
Strange lessons.
First, there was the Language. It had no name, other than the Language.
So far as Liam knew, no one spoke it except his father. He had never seen
a book written in the Language, although he knew its alphabet and had
written and read reams of exercises.
No mention was ever made of it, nor of any of the other lessons his father
taught him. Liam had learned the folly of that early on. Once, when he was
eight years old, he had spoken at the dinner table in the Language. It was
a joke about the boarding school he attended. He had meant for it to be
something the two of them could share privately despite the presence of
the serving staff.
His father had not appreciated the joke. He responded to Liam with a
cold stare, which effectively silenced the boy for the remainder of the meal.
Then, to make sure the silence stuck, Saint  James came into Liam's room at
night, stuffed a silk scarf into his mouth, and beat him.
 The Language is a secret," he said while his fists pummelled into Liam's
back.  The lessons are secret."
Liam screamed noiselessly into the gag until he lost consciousness.
The next day his father came to see him in his bedroom.  I've told the
staff that you're to remain here for a few days, as punishment for something
or other. You'll be well enough to walk by then."
Liam only stared at him.
 I didn't touch your face," Saint  James said.
Liam blinked.
 Well, don't you think you should thank me?"
Liam swallowed.
His father's face was expressionless. After a moment, he reached into his
pocket and pulled out the silk scarf.
 Thank you," the boy said.
 That's better. Shall we proceed with our lessons?"
Oh, Daddy.
There were plenty of lessons. There was  history," which was a collection
of stories he had never found in any books in the school library,  geography," in which he studied from maps of the world utterly unlike any he
had ever seen, and, the worst of them all, the Practice.
His first lesson in the Practice occurred when he was ten.
He had been required to kill a rabbit.
He had slit its throat, opened its chest, and pulled out its tiny heart. Then
he had thrown up.
There was another beating for that. For his cowardice.
After the rabbit, there was a cat, a fox, a lamb, a dog, all with the correct
ritual, all with a litany chanted in the Language. He tried to perform them
numbly, forcing himself not to gag on the stench of fresh blood.
Daddy no, please I can't I can't
His father never touched his face during the beatings.
Liam consoled himself with food. It was medicine for him.
Put something in your mouth to make the pain go away.
But they never stopped. Not the beatings. Not the lessons. Not the Practice.
When Liam passed into his early teens, it began to occur to him that his
father might be insane. After a particularly brutal session, during which
Liam had decided that he no longer cared whether he lived or died, he had
talked back.
 Go ahead and kill me!" he screamed.  It doesn't change the fact that
nothing in these stupid lessons exists for anyone except us."
He had prepared for the blow, eyes squeezed shut, breath held, but it
never came. Instead, his father laughed.
Laughed!
 I wondered when you would realize that," Saint  James said.  You're such
a dull child, I was beginning to despair that you'd ever think about anything."
Liam could only gape at him, open-mouthed.
 The fact is, the information only needs to exist for us. For you, particularly, when you take my place."
 Your place as   . as what?"
 I can't tell you that now. But it is a position that you will be uniquely
suited for when the time comes. A position of great honor."
Honor.
So I mean something to him, after all.
 Will I   . will I be able to stop   . the Practice?" His mouth felt dry.  I
don't like killing animals, Father."
Saint  James looked at him blankly for a moment, then sighed.  Do you love
me, son?"
 Yes."
 And I love you."
From his pocket he took a silk scarf.


chapter 4.

WHerE is THIS PATIENT?"
Cory awoke to see a man in a long doctor's gown standing by her side,
staring at her angrily.
She looked quickly around the room. Carol Ann's bed was empty.
 She's I don't. . . ."
 Who are you?" he snapped.
Her own anger brought her fully awake.  I think I should be asking you
that question," she shot back.
The man looked down at his lab coat and brushed at the place where
his name tag should have been.  doctor  Heaney," he said brusquely.  This is
my patient, and I'd like to know where she is."
 Gerald Heaney?"
He inhaled impatiently.
/ didn't think he'd look so old, Cory thought.  What are you doing in
Florida?"
 Madam, are we acquainted?" His voice conveyed a bone-numbing boredom with the conversation.
 In a way. I'm Cory Althorpe, with the psychiatric unit. We spoke on the
phone. I'm Edward Bonner's granddaughter."
 Yes. We were associates once," he said flatly.  Why are you here?"
She wanted to ask him why he had erased the computer files she was
reading during their conversation, but knew instinctively that this was not
the time for a confrontation.  I was visiting the patient on my off shift,"
she said,  and I suppose I dozed off. But she wouldn't have gone far. Are
you her physician, doctor  Heaney?"
 I've succeeded doctor  Krantz as head of serology," he said.
She nodded.  And you've seen Carol Ann's blood."
 Whose? Oh." He looked toward the empty bed.
 She has a name, Doctor, this patient of yours."
Heaney turned without another word and left the room.
She knows enough to get me killed.
Heaney walked through the hospital corridors, hearing his shoes clack
smartly against the floor.
Damn the Consortium. They should have told him when Krantz died.
This could have been contained. Now she knew. She and how many others?
How many links were there in the chain that would wind around his neck
and choke off his life?
He walked faster, in a fury.
Steady, steady.
Althorpe had to be eliminated. Soon. She, the diver with the ICDL blood
whom she had released, and this new girl. Three links in the chain had to
be cut before he could breathe again.
But first the girl. She would be the easiest.
Find the girl.
The same thought was on Cory's mind.
Her casual dismissal of Carol Ann's disappearance had been pure theater.
The girl had been terrified. You're not safe with me, she had said.
Why hadn't Cory listened?
It did not matter if the threat Carol Ann feared was real or imagined. The
fact was, she feared it enough to bolt from the hospital. Outside the hospital,
whoever shot her once might get a chance to shoot her again.
She had bolted. Of that Cory was certain. There was no way the girl could
have been kidnaped from under her nose without her awakening. She had
left of her own will.
But where could she have gone? As Cory walked across the parking lot
to her small Mercedes, she tried to think of where the girl might be. If she
could only talk with Carol Ann, she thought, find out why she was so
frightened . . .
She healed a gunshot wound . . .
So frightened . . . and why was Gerald Heaney at the hospital?
She slid behind the wheel and took a deep breath.
 No,  she whispered aloud.  I will not be pulled into this hysteria."
Just because Carol Ann was psychic did not mean that she had correctly
assessed the magnitude of the danger posed to everyone with ICDL blood.
Carol Ann was in danger, possibly, but more because of her weakened
condition than anything else.
What about the others? The others, who are all dead?
 God, let me find her," she said.  Before anyone else does."
She searched the city for three hours, stopping at every convenience store
and bar within a twelve-block radius of the hospital, but none of the people
she talked to had seen anyone answering Carol Ann's description. Finally,
frantic with worry and fatigue, Cory had driven aimlessly around the city,
hoping for a glimpse of blonde hair. It was nearly midnight when she saw
a familiar figure walking along the deserted sidewalk.
 Sam," she called.
He stopped and peered inside.   Working late tonight?" he asked.
 In a way. One of my patients ran away from the hospital. She has the
same kind of blood as you, and I'm afraid   ." She rested her arms on the
steering wheel and lay her head on them. When she said nothing more,
Sam realized she was crying.
 How long has it been since you slept?" he asked.
 I'm all right," Cory stammered, trying to dry her eyes while her whole
body continued to sob.  It's just . . . just . . ."
He opened the car door and slid inside.  Move over," he said.  I'm going
to drive you home."
 That's not necessary.   ." she began, then smiled.  Thanks, Sam. I'd
appreciate the company." She gave him her address, then sat back in the
passenger seat.  Guess who just showed up as head of serology," she said,
rubbing her eyes.
 Gerald Heaney," Sam said grimly.
Cory's head swiveled toward him.  You knew that?"
 I found out by accident. He's the family doctor of another psychic kid."
 Oh, no."
He pulled into the driveway of Cory's rambling beach house.  Mind if I
make a phone call?" Sam asked.
 Go ahead. I'll make us some coffee. I'm too tired to sleep, anyway."
As she busied herself, relieved to have something to do with her hands,
Sam dialed the phone number of the Styx, not expecting much. There was
a permanent telephone hookup on the dock to which the salvage boat was
tied, but most nights Darian forgot to connect the phone.
To his surprise, Darian had remembered. He answered, thick-voiced and
sleepy, on the first ring.
 What the hell do you want?"
 I want to know how you left it with Saint  James."
 You rousted me out of bed for that?"
 I don't trust him, Darian."
 Hell, I don't either, but he's willing to pay me five million dollars for a
rock, so I guess I'm willing to put up with him till tomorrow."
 Is that when you make the exchange?"
 At the bank. Until then, at least, I'm safe. He's got two law-and-order
types watching the boat. Nobody's going to mess with me tonight."
 What about tomorrow?"
 I got a thirty-eight under my bunk that's going to worry about tomorrow
for me."
Sam smiled.  I guess you can take care of yourself, at that."
 Damn right. How's the kid?"
 Liam? He's fine. At least on the outside."
 Whatever that means, and I don't care to have it explained. Now leave
me be." He hung up.
Cory and Sam carried their coffee out onto the beach where they sat on
the sand halfway to the water's edge. Cory kept her eyes scanning the shore,
hoping against all reason that Carol Ann would walk by.
 Memory Island's out there," Sam said quietly, inclining his head toward
the dark water.  Due east, almost straight ahead."
Cory lowered her cup.  It's all tied up with that, isn't it?"
 Somehow, yes." He took a sip of his coffee.  It can't be a coincidence
that Heaney would come to that particular hospital."
 You're right. I think he's looking for Carol Ann."
Sam faced her.  To kill her?"
She nodded.  I've told myself that he doesn't have anything to do with
the man who shot Carol Ann he certainly doesn't fit the description but
something goes off inside me when I bring his face, or even his name, to
mind." They were quiet for a moment and then she asked,  Do you get
those, Sam? Flashes of intuition, just knowing something, even if you don't
have a real reason for knowing it?"
He smiled sadly.  Story of my life," he said.
 Something's waiting for us. All of us. And it's out there." She drank her
coffee.  Straight ahead, due east."
Carol Ann Frye hopped a small wire fence along the sandy beach.
It felt better out here, away from the buildings in town and the night
people. Every other face she saw seemed to carry a hint of menace, a look
of  them."
Who  they" were, she did not know. There was the man who had shot
her and Nadine Gorman without reason or explanation, but he was not who
she feared.
The truth of it was, it was not even death that she feared. She had seen
people die before, homeless old folks who had been beyond her help, sick
people at a mission in Philadelphia where she had worked after she'd first
run away from the crack house she had called home. Death was gentle, a
quiet event that brought peace and a strange sort of hope for those who
were ready for it.
She had seen angels, bright beings filled with light, enfold the used-up
bodies of the sick and release their immortal spirits.
No, it was not death she feared.
It was something worse.
Carol Ann sat down behind a cluster of concrete pilings which anchored
a long stone breakwater. She took off the baseball cap she had found in
an alley and ran her fingers through her hair.
She needed rest. The effort to heal the wound in her chest had been
monumental. She would never have tried such a feat normally, but she had
known that time was short and that she would be needed soon. So she had
forced her body to accelerate its processes. Her fingernails had grown long
overnight.
Idly, she picked a stone out of the sand. It was ordinary, small and gray,
but held the power of the universe in it. All natural objects, she knew,
exuded energy, as much as people or animals, but their life force moved
more slowly. Rocks possessed the slowest-moving energy of all, so it was
possible for people at least for Carol Ann to absorb it completely.
She took a deep breath as she felt the stone's sure, perfect balance seep
into her body. There had been nothing in the hospital room to help her
replace the massive amounts of energy she had been expending on her
healing; now she could fill up again. The sea mist washed over her like
balm. The sand beneath her conveyed the throbbing life of the Earth. The
stone gave her its heart.
It's coming
It's coming
Carol Ann wasn't so afraid anymore.
The bottle of champagne was empty.
Nathan Eames nuzzled the red head's neck once more before getting out
of bed. Sucking in his belly, he picked up the empty bottle by its neck and
padded toward the kitchen.
 Don't fall asleep while I'm gone," he teased.
The red head arched her back so that he could see her glorious breasts
in the shaft of moonlight that streaked over them.
 Mmmm. I'll be right back," he said.  And I do mean right back."
He felt like singing as he glided barefoot over the marble flooring of the
glass and chrome mansion. In the distance, the lights of the La Jolla docks
sparkled like party lights. Nathan Eames, boy nerd, had become a man.
Killing the girl had not been as difficult as he had thought, certainly not
as difficult as killing George Westerman. And the old bag had been a chip
shot. They had been targets, nothing more.
Targets . . . and sacrifices.
Because wasn't that what life was all about, sacrificing something to
get something else? All Nathan had done was to make a sacrifice to the
Consortium, and in return, the Consortium had brought him the life he had
always wanted. Westerman for the pigeon's blood ruby. Madame Zola and
the wan-faced girl for . . .
For what? What was next? A palace in Morocco? A villa in Tangier, complete with a harem of exotic mistresses vying for the opportunity to satisfy
his every desire?
Hey, why not, he thought. The sky was the limit in this game, and God
knew he deserved nothing less than the sky.
Sacrifice, that was what it was. He had sacrificed plenty.
He slapped on the kitchen light, and suddenly the image of a harem in
Tangier faded and died.
There was a man sitting at the breakfast nook. He was wearing a raincoat,
and the gun in his hand was trained on Nathan's head.
 Don't run, Mister Eames. I'm a good shot," he said.
Nathan put down the champagne bottle. All he could think of was that
he was stark naked.
 Take anything you want," he began.  I'll give you the combination to
the safe. Just   ."
 This isn't a robbery."
The man was in his fifties, with the puffy face and red nose of a chronic
alcoholic. His hands didn't shake, though; he seemed to know exactly what
to do with the gun.
 You're with the Consortium," Nathan said quietly.                               
 That's right."
 But why   . I did . . . what I was supposed . . ."
 The girl survived."
Nathan felt his stomach cramp.
 The news probably didn't reach you here. It's all over the papers in
Florida. Your description, too. It's just a matter of time before the cops trace
you."
 Oh, God," Nathan moaned.  Can you   . I mean, I'll finish the job,
guaranteed, I'll go back tomorrow, tonight, but can you . . . can they   ."
 We'll get you away."
Nathan shuddered with relief.  Thank God. I mean, thank you. I really
appreciate "
A soft pop sounded from the direction of the bedroom. Nathan jumped.
 What was that?"
 Your lady friend. No, don't do that," he said when Nathan turned invol 
untarily toward the doorway.
 You killed her?"
 I don't think she felt anything. Get a glass of water."
 What? Hey, what's going on?"
The man did not answer. Nathan got the water. The man took a small
paper envelope from his pocket, fumbled it open with one hand, and poured
its contents into the glass. It was a sand-colored powder.  Drink it," he
said.  It'll make it easier for you."
 But what are you going to do? I'll come with you, all right? No problem.
I'm not pissed about the girl in the bedroom, if that's what you're thinking,
although it might be a good idea to get rid of the body. . . ."
 Drink it and shut up."
Nathan picked up the glass and stared at it.  You're going to kill me,
aren't you," he said in a small voice. He sighed.  I was at the top of the
world."
It hadn't been a very long run, he thought.
He should have known. He had found the stone. His usefulness was
over.
Nathan shook his head and grinned. He raised the glass in salute.  To
the Consortium," he said.
The night was getting cold. Cory moved closer to Sam on the beach.
 Want to go in?" she asked.  You . . . you can spend the night if you
want."
He looked at her. He wanted to, wanted to hold her and make love to
her and love himself in her body. He wanted to forget that the singer in
the sea had ever called to him.
But the time for forgetting was long past. They were caught up in some 
thing now that was going to turn everything inside out, the way a seaquake
shook up the ocean floor, burying the present and exchanging it with the
past.
Memory Island, Harry Woodson, Jamie McCabe, the diamond. All parts
of the past come back for another turn.
 I can't," he said.  I've got to   . to wait. 
For Her.
Because She was behind it all, wasn't She? She, a phantom in his mind
who had filled him with Her presence all his life, She who had made it
impossible for Sam ever to love a living woman, She stood somehow in the
vortex of the storm swirling around him. And She would never let him go.
 Okay," Cory said, visibly embarrassed. She stood and dusted the sand
off her clothes.  I'd better get some sleep."
She went inside, bathed, dressed for bed, and went to sleep. Later, she
awoke. The night table clock read 4 A M. She went to the window and
looked out onto the beach.
Sam was still there, his arms folded around his knees, gazing out toward
the ocean. Due east.
It WAS FULL SUN WHEN REBA AWOKE.


chapter 5.

 Got to find Sam," she said aloud, and turned the key in the truck's
ignition. The engine started without a sputter.
It was only then that she remembered that she had gotten to where she
was going.
There were no more voices. They had stopped last night, along with the
truck.
Dirt in the gas line.
Reba smiled. She turned off the engine and got out.
A man who walked like he had a doozie of a hangover was puttering
around on a boat down a ways. He was the only one on the pier except
for the two young men who had confronted her with the flashlight the night
before.
One of them was talking into a tiny telephone and looking at his watch.
When he hung up, he latched the phone onto his belt. Reba clucked, marvel 
ing at the gizmos people used nowadays.
 Mister?" she called to the old man, waving from the dock by his boat.
 Yoo hoo, there!"
The old man lumbered toward her, scowling.  What do you want?" he
shouted.
 I'm looking for Sam," she answered.
 Sam who?"
Reba's face fell. It had never occurred to her to doubt that she had come
to the right place.
 Don't you know him? Young feller, twenty-nine years old. He'd have
brown hair, I reckon, and brown eyes, like his folks."
The old man looked at her suspiciously.  You selling something?"
 No."
 Then why do you want him?"
 Well, I can't rightly say. I just know I got to find him, that's all. He live
here?"
 Who sent you?"
She was stumped on that one. If she told him that she had come at the
insistence of her dead grandmother, he would like as not take her for a
fool.  I'm not going to do nothing bad to him, if that's what you're worried
about," she said, laughing.  I ain't as young as I used to be."
Just then the two young men strode up on either side of her and grabbed
her elbows.  We'd like you to move on, ma'am," the one with the phone
said as they hustled her back toward the truck.
 Wait," she protested.  I'm just trying to find the boy."
 Go look somewhere else." Together they raised Reba completely off
her feet, and one of her shoes dropped off. Her heart was pounding frantically.  My shoe! Let me down!"
 You heard her!" Darian roared. As the men were settling her back on
her feet, Reba turned around to see the old man standing on the pier, her
shoe in his hand. He tossed it on the ground in front of her.
 Mister McCabe, we've been sent by Mister Saint  James to protect you," the man
with the phone began,  and we can't take any chances.   
 Don't you dare treat me like some pantywaisted buttered bun! I didn't
invite you and I don't need you to protect me from the likes of her. Now
git!"
 We're under orders to escort you to the bank   . sir   ."
Fists on his hips, Darian stood glowering at them until they backed away.
 We ought to be leaving soon, Mister McCabe," one of them said.
 I know when the appointment is!"
They backed away farther. Then he turned his glare on Reba.
She only smiled.  I like a man knows his own mind," she said.
Darian's mouth opened once, twice, then snapped shut. It was pointless
to shout at someone who took no offense.
 McCabe," the old woman said softly, a crease forming between her eyes.
 Yes, and I don't want nothing you got to sell, neither."
 McCabe. Don't I know you?"
 You do not."
Her face lit up.  Jamie," she said breathlessly.  You're Jamie McCabe's
daddy. I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn't place you."
Darian stiffened.  How did you know Jamie?" he asked flatly.
 Oh, I'm sorry," she said, reaching out to him, but he shied away.  I was
in a group with him once. We called ourselves the Rememberers. Your boy
was . . ."
Darian walked away.
". . . real fine," she finished.
She knew how he felt. The thought of Bo filled her with hurt, too, and
time didn't make it any better. Maybe if he had been sick or fighting in a
war or even killed in an accident, she might have been able to accept his
death. But knowing that someone you loved was murdered was too much
to ask of anybody. When that happened, part of you just broke off and
died, and nothing was ever the same.
She stood on the pier and said a prayer for Mister McCabe.
When he emerged from the boat again, he was wearing a clean shirt and
a rather ill-fitting brown blazer. His hair was combed. He looked unnatural,
Reba thought, like a little boy dressed for Sunday school.
She tried to approach him again, hoping to make amends for bringing
up the son he was trying to keep buried, but he did not even give her a
glance as he walked purposefully toward the two men and got into their
car with them.
 Mister McCabe!" she called to him as the car backed out into the street.  I
just need to know about Sam. You never did tell me if he lived here. I just
want to know what boat he's staying at. . . ."
The car peeled away, leaving her coughing in its wake.
Reba crossed her arms and leaned against the truck.  All right, you old
buzzard," she muttered.  I'll just wait right here."
And then she realized that she knew exactly where to find Sam. Sooner
or later, he would come to McCabe's boat.
Because the fact that his son had died on the same night that Sam was
born was no coincidence.
Gram had directed her true. She would wait. And when she saw Sam,
she would know him.
Darian had met Aidon Saint  James twice and liked him less each time. But
Saint  James's assistant, who had come to the bank to handle the sale of the
diamond, set a new standard for loathsomeness.
His name was Mister Penrose. Darian could not think of a more appropriate
first name for the man than  Mister." He was in his late forties, with carefully
pressed hair, yuppie eyeglasses that were too small for his face, and the
manner of a maitre d" in a cheap restaurant. Even his voice impressed
McCabe as oily and dishonest.
He was waiting for McCabe and his two escorts at 8 A M. inside the bank
president's office. Although the building was not officially open at that hour,
security had been alerted and the guard had unlocked the door and ushered
them into the bank president's office.
The bank president's name was Jackson. Penrose made a point of standing
near him, the two of them facing Darian as if he were applying for a job.
 You got your boss's money with you?" Darian asked, looking innocent.
Penrose tightened his lips before he spoke.  Mister Jackson will explain the
transaction to you," he said.  He'll try to keep it simple."
The bank president cleared his throat before Darian could respond.  What
we have, Mister McCabe . . . Darian . . . may I call you Darian?"
 No."
 I see. As I was saying, what we have is a five-million-dollar transfer of
funds from Mister Saint  James to this bank. We'll deposit it in whatever sort of
account you wish. We have many different types of savings programs.   
 What about cash?"
Jackson blinked.  Well, the fund transfer is as good as cash," he said,
smiling nervously.  You can draw on it at any time."
 All five million?"
Jackson looked pained.  Yes. Although it might take me a few hours to
get all that cash in here. Is that what you have in mind, Mister McCabe?"
Penrose rolled his eyes.
 No," Darian said.  I only asked because I believe this guy and his owner
are thieves."
Penrose's mouth opened in outrage.
 And perverts," Darian finished, unperturbed.
 So, Mister McCabe," Jackson said quickly,  am I to understand you will
open an account?"
 Don't have to. I already got a checking account."
Jackson gave a little grunt, as if someone had punched him in the stomach.
 You want to deposit five million dollars into a checking account?"
 No, just five hundred thousand. I want the rest to go to my employee,
Sam Smith. He's got a checking account here, too."
Jackson stared at him balefully.
 You got a problem with that?" Darian asked.
Penrose smirked and waved aside whatever objections Jackson might
have voiced.  Let him do it," he said.
Jackson looked pained.  Very well. We'll deposit four and a half million
dollars into Mister Smith's . . . checking account."
 I want receipts."
 Certainly. I'll get them now." The banker stood up stiffly and left his
office.
Penrose leaned back in his chair.  Do you have the stone?" he asked.
 Right in my pocket," Darian said, patting his jacket.  And that's where
it's going to stay till I get the money."
Penrose looked away in distaste. In a moment the bank president returned
with the deposit slips. As he handed them over, Darian brought out the
diamond pendant hanging from its gold chain and placed it on the desk.
Tentatively, Jackson lifted the stone. Penrose took it from him, gazing
at it with awe.
Darian noticed that it did not glow for either of them.
When doctor  Gerald Heaney was ordered to go immediately to Liam's room,
he was a little unnerved at finding Aidon Saint  James there.
The boy was sitting on the edge of the bed, getting dressed in clothes
that he plucked, one article at a time, from a shopping bag next to him.
Heaney tried to smile.  Feeling well enough to leave?" he asked.
The boy ignored him.  He's fine," Saint  James said.  Where's the girl?"
The color drained from Heaney's face.  I don't know," he said.  Doctor,
Althorpe let her go, as I told you."
 She'll be found."
 Yes, I'm sure she will."
 And when she's brought back here, I would appreciate it if you did not
botch things again."
Heaney's jaw clenched.  She's just a young girl," he said.
Saint  James shot him a vicious look. Just then, there was a small buzz in
the room. Saint  James took a cellular phone from his pocket.
 Yes," he answered. After a pause he added,  You have the stone?" He
listened for another few seconds, then said,  All right. Now we can dispose
of the loose ends."
He clicked the telephone shut and noticed his son, now fully dressed,
looking at him with curiosity. Heaney, meanwhile, was trying to look any 
where else.
 The loose ends, Doctor?" Saint  James said sharply before leaving with the
boy.  You know what they are."
Heaney could smell his own perspiration. It stank of fear.
Need a lift?" Cory asked.
She was wearing a white dress that billowed in the morning breeze. She
looked beautiful, like an angel in flight.
 Sure," Sam said, getting up from the damp sand of the beach where he
had sat vigil all night.  If it's no trouble."
 None at all." She extended a hand to help him to his feet.
 Look, about last night "
 What about it?" she said.
 I didn't want you to think . . . well, that I wasn't interested. It wasn't
like that."
She laughed.  I got over those games in high school. Come on, I'm going
to be late for work."
Tyrone Davis sat drinking an Orangina at the outdoor cafe in West Palm
Beach, eyeing the young blonde chick at the fruit stand across the street.
She was wearing baggy pants and a baseball cap, but the hair beneath it
hung down her back and shone in the sunlight.
Skinny thing, he thought. She would cry a lot while she was giving it
up. When the public phone rang, he nodded and one of his underlings
answered it.
The underling was a fifteen-year-old who had just beaten his first murder
rap. Tyrone himself had beaten several, although he'd had to be careful
since he had now turned eighteen. Then again, his fee had gone up, so he
did not have to work very often. He was enjoying being an adult.
The underling hung up the phone.  They just left the house," he said.
 White Mercedes convertible."
Another underling, noted among his peers for his intelligence because
he could read a bus schedule, looked at the gold Rolex on his wrist.
 They'll be coming by in like nine minutes," he said.  Are we ready?"
Tyrone rose out of the chair until he stood his full six feet tall. He was
thin but well muscled, built like a switchblade.  We are ready."
Tyrone got into his twenty-year-old Dodge Lancer with its elevated wheel
base. The other two entered a battered maroon GTO directly behind it.
Together they waited.
When the Mercedes passed by, both cars moved out smoothly into traffic.
Carol Ann counted the change she had discovered in the pocket of the
trousers she was wearing. Eighty-one cents, enough for two apples. While
she was paying for them, she asked the owner of the market, a plump Cuban
lady with a nice smile, if any work was available.
 I can sweep up for you and unload the produce," she offered.  And I
don't need much money."
Suddenly her head swivelled toward the open doorway facing the street.
Two beat-up old cars were pulling out of parking spots.
That was all.
 I can't have nobody on the books," the woman said.  The social security,
it kill you, you know what I mean?"
With an effort, Carol Ann pulled her attention back to the woman.  That
doesn't matter," she said.  I just need . . . work."
She inhaled sharply. Her hands were cold. She felt nauseated.
It's coming, it's coming.
With a cry, she dropped both apples on the floor and ran out.
Reba Dobbs clutched her heart.
Hurry, baby, hurry, Gram said.
 Where?" What."
Go.
She whirled toward the truck, slipping on some loose stones, and her
knees buckled beneath her. She hit the pavement hard, but there was no
time to check her bruises. She pulled herself up by the truck's door handle,
feeling her sweat slick on the rusted chrome.
Once inside, she started the engine and peeled out into the street, laying
a strip of rubber twenty yards long.
The Mercedes had barely entered the business district when Cory noticed
the green car racing behind her, trailing a cloud of exhaust.
 Looks like he's in a hurry," she said, turning off into an alley. Sam
looked behind them.
 It's okay. We can get to the docks just as easily this way."
The wheels of the green Lancer squealed as it followed, knocking a rear
fender against a corner of the building at the alley entrance, but it never
slowed.
 What the hell . . ." Sam said.
The Lancer raced up and sounded its horn. Cory edged her car as close
to the wall as possible.  I don't believe it," she muttered.  He's going to
pass me. Here."
The Lancer pulled alongside them, then nosed in front of the Mercedes
and swivelled right.
Cory gasped as she slammed on the brakes. The driver door of the Lancer
swept open.
 Back up," Sam said.
She shot the car into reverse, but before she reached the end of the alley,
another car pulled in. Its doors also opened. Three teenagers walked toward
them.
 I don't like this, Sam," Cory said.
He got out.  It's not my favorite way to start the day, either."
The three surrounded him.
 Leave the woman alone," he said.
Tyrone flicked a blade in his hands and slashed. A split second later, one
of his companions kicked Sam between his legs.
The knife came down again.
Carol Ann screamed.
She was running, elbowing aside whoever was in her way, when the
scream gurgled up in her throat and rent the air.
 Jesus Christ," a young businessman said. He had been walking to work
when the girl shoved him against a mailbox in her headlong dash down
the street.
A woman with two shopping bags filled with doughnuts for the retirement
home where she volunteered stopped to offer consolation.  PCP," she said.
 I seen  em before. They get crazy."
 You're not kidding," the young man said, brushing off his suit.  She
could hurt somebody."
 Oh, they can. They have the strength of ten people while they're in that
condition. That's what I've heard."
 Somebody ought to call the police."
 Yep. They sure ought to."
The young man went on his way. The woman picked up her shopping
bags and proceeded down the street.
We'll drive you back, Mister McCabe."
Darian squinted into the sun.  No thanks, boys. I'll walk."
Though their responsibility toward him had ended as soon as Darian had
entered the bank, his escorts had waited patiently with the guard in the
lobby while he conducted his business upstairs.
 You boys get some rest. You probably need it."
He was sauntering across the thoroughfare when an aged pickup
screeched to a halt less than a foot in front of him.
 Damn, you!" he shouted, raising his fist.  Can't a law-abiding citizen
even cross the street anymore?"
Then he recognized the driver.  You!" He pointed a finger at the old
woman at the wheel.
Reba rolled down her window.  Get in," she said.
 The hell I will."
 Get in. It's Sam. Something's bad."
 What are you talking about?"
A horn blared behind her.  Get in," she repeated.
Darian entered the truck and she sped away.
 What about Sam?"
 He's in trouble. He's . . . oh, where am I gonna go?" she lamented at
an intersection.
The hesitation was momentary. Almost before the words were out of her
mouth, she veered to the right at top speed.  Something   . I don't
know . . . he's . . ."
Then they both saw the yellow-haired girl screaming at the entrance to
an alley.
 Here," Reba said with certainty.
She parked right beside where the girl was standing and reached beneath
the seat.
 My husband's toolbox," she explained.  Grab yourself a hammer."
Cory was pinned against her car. As soon as the first blow against Sam
was struck, one of the youths had gone to the Mercedes and dragged her
out, sprawling his body across hers.
 You're next," he whispered through a grin as the knife struck Sam again
and again. Every time Sam tried to stand up, the blade would come down
across his face, his chest, his arms. He was red with blood, and each time
it took him longer to rise from the pavement.
 Sam," Cory sobbed, trying to struggle free. The mugger was between
her legs. Her wrists were pinned against the cloth roof of the car. The only
part of her body she could maneuver was her head.
She took a deep breath and banged her forehead against the boy's. The
force of the impact made her dizzy, but he only scowled.
 Bitch," he said. He spat in her face.
Sam was on all fours in the alley, unable to raise his head. The younger
of the attackers kicked him. Blood came out of his mouth.
Then the other one, the one with the knife, stepped back. He put the
switchblade away.
Thank God, she thought. Just go away now. Please go away.
 Come on, pretty boy, get up," Tyrone teased, beckoning to Sam.
Sam got up, one leaden foot following the other, until he stood upright,
swaying. One nostril had been cut open. Two of his knuckles had been
crushed beneath a heel.
 That's good." From the waistband of his jeans, Tyrone took a length of
one-inch iron pipe and slapped it against his palm.
 No!" Cory screamed.
The sound seemed to fill the entire alley. The muggers themselves looked
around. Even after Cory fell silent, the scream went on. And on.
Then Cory saw her: standing behind the maroon GTO, her hands clutching
at her hair, her mouth emitting an unearthly shriek as if it were she, not
Sam, who was being beaten to death. It was Carol Ann Frye.
Tyrone cursed. This was supposed to go down quiet, one two three.
Some rummy passing by, maybe some folks moving real fast like they never
seen nothing. Now this fool druggie girl takes it into her head to work off
her jones right here.
 Stuff the bitch," he said. His companion loped off.
Tyrone smiled at Sam.  You and me, man."
 That's right," Sam answered, and lunged for the pipe.
He should not have caught it. He should definitely not have caught it
because Tyrone Davis was fast. Fast as a blade.
But he did catch it and he yanked it out of Tyrone's hands and tossed it
on the pavement behind him.
 Like you said, buddy, you and me," Sam said.
Fast as a blade, Tyrone danced out of his way.
Almost.
Sam caught him, barely, caught him by the sleeve of his shirt. And once
he caught him, he yanked Tyrone toward him like a rag doll, then threw
him against the brick wall.  My turn," Sam said, trying to blink away his
fatigue. With the last of his energy, he slammed a bloody fist against Tyrone's
nose.
 Jo Jo," Tyrone called in a wavering voice as he fumbled for his
switchblade, which had fallen out of his pocket in the scuffle.
 Go visit him in the hospital." An old man and a fat old lady were walking
toward them. They seemed to be carrying tools. The blonde screamer was
with them.
 Shit," Tyrone said.
Sam was having trouble focusing.  Darian?" he asked, not quite believing
his eyes.
In that moment the youth pinning Cory spun to the ground and picked
up the blade. Cory tried to run, but the kid was too quick. He grabbed hold
of her hair before she had gone three feet and yanked her back to him, the
knife an inch from her throat.
 Back off," the boy said.  Or I cut her."
He was the youngest of the trio. His eyes were wide with fear.  You
too," he said to Sam.
Sam backed away.
 Let's go," the kid told Tyrone.
Tyrone took a few steps toward the car, then assessed the situation.
None of these suckers was going to do a damn thing as long as they
thought the kid was going to stick the lady.
He crossed his arms, wagged his head, and walked back for the iron
pipe.
 Let's go " the kid said.
 I'll get there when I get there," Tyrone said. He touched his nose. It
was broken. He slapped the pipe against his leg.  Just taking my property,"
he said. 
And then he moved. Fast. Holding the pipe like a bat, he clubbed Sam
on the temple.
The impact sounded like an explosion. Sam went down.
 Go!" Tyrone shouted. The kid dropped Cory and dashed out of the alley
on foot. Tyrone jumped in the green Lancer, backed up quickly enough to
hit anyone who might be foolhardy enough to chase them, then sped out
the far side onto the street.
Cory was the first to reach Sam. She checked his pupils, loosened his
clothing, tried to find his pulse, listened to his chest.  Call an ambulance!"
she ordered.
A knot of onlookers had formed at the entrance to the alley. Some of
them left to find help, now that they themselves were no longer in danger.
 How bad is it?" Darian asked.
Cory's look of anguish told him everything.
Darian knelt down beside her. Blood was running out of Sam's ears.
 Is he dead?"
Cory squeezed her eyes shut.  I don't know," she whispered.
 Can you do anything?"
 Not here. He needs a surgeon. All we can do is wait for the ambulance."
 No."
A small slender hand reached between them to touch Sam's chest. Carol
Ann's face was somber.  There isn't time," she said.
She placed her other hand on Sam's head, over the crushed bones of his
temple, and began to breathe deeply. Instinctively, the others moved away
to give her more room.
Can't do it. Too much. Too far gone.
Carol Ann's fingers turned blue almost immediately. The light around
Sam was cracking like glass, dissipating and washing inward. She heard a
whooshing sound, like the flapping of birds" wings, or wind in a tunnel.
But there were no angels here, no good spirits filled with light and
welcome.
 Don't let him go, child."
Carol Ann looked up, startled. There was an old woman standing over
her.
Biting her lip, Carol Ann pressed harder on Sam's chest. She could feel
no heartbeat.
 I don't think I can do it," she said.
Gently Reba placed her right hand over Carol Ann's.  We'll help you."
With her left hand, she took Darian McCabe's.
Darian reached out until he found Cory Althorpe's hand and held it.
Cory was the last. She looked at Sam, at the slashes across his face, at
the terrible wound on his head.
 Please live, Sam," she whispered as she touched Carol Ann's head.
The circle was complete.
Carol Ann closed her eyes. She began to tremble; the power shooting
through her was electric. A music rose out of it, big as the sea, carrying
Sam's pain through all of them, swelling, threatening to extinguish them,
then subsiding, shrinking, fading until it left their bodies and disintegrated
into the air.
Sam groaned. He opened his eyes.
The circle broke. Carol Ann fainted.
When she came to, the old woman was smiling at her.
Carol Ann leaped forward into her arms and hugged her.  You're like
me," she said, filled with a joy she had never before experienced. She
looked at each of them in turn, the stony-faced old man, the handsome
young one who was sitting with his elbows on his knees, doctor  Althorpe. doctor 
Althorpe who had helped to heal, not with her knowledge, but with herself.
Carol Ann felt as if she had been looking for them all her life.
 You're all just like me."


chapter 6.

WiTH A STRANGER IT BEGAN; WITH A STRANGER SHALL IT BEGIN AGAIN. "
Aidon Saint  James looked up from the cracked parchment he held in his
hands. It was a copy of a copy of a copy, although the parchment itself was
more than two thousand years old. It had been copied by a distant, if direct,
ancestor of Saint  James's. It was written in the Language.
Before him sat twenty-five men, plus Saint  James's personal secretary, Pen 
rose. They had come from the far corners of the world: an Arab sheik, whose
riches had been owned by his family for millennia; a Chinese entrepreneur
whose ancestors had been warlords over vast domains; a German industrial 
ist who still lived in the castle his people had owned since the Middle Ages.
All were wealthy beyond the imaginations of ordinary people. All wielded
a power that dwarfed that of their governments. All were killers, descended
from long, ancient lines of killers.
They were the Consortium.
 Thus begins the testament," Saint  James said. He wore a long black robe
splashed with gold around the shoulders and waist. The others were dressed
in white. Ceremonial garments were always worn at these gatherings of the
highest level of the organization whose members numbered in the tens of
thousands. The robes eliminated any distinctions between the men.
They were a brotherhood whose allegiance to one another superseded
all other loyalties. Family ties were nothing compared with their fidelity to
the Consortium: Saint  James himself had proven that when he had eliminated
his own wife because of her suspicions about his activities.
He stood at the front of the small auditorium, below decks on his yacht.
The men before him were silent, listening.
 These words are a warning," he said.  Because the Stranger has not yet
come to take our birthright of power away from us. We have successfully
kept him away through all the ages of civilization. We have destroyed the
temples of Heliopolis, where the knowledge of his kind was kept. We have
discredited the teachings of the Egyptian seers. We have erased the writing
of the Nazarene prophet. We have, through our own personal efforts, rid
the Earth of most of those beings who might spawn another Stranger.
 For the past twenty-nine years, those efforts have borne abundant fruit.
Our enemies can now be identified by their blood. Few of them remain,
and those who are alive have been rendered powerless. They are called
 psychics," and have been dismissed by every population in the world as
fools and charlatans, and their words carry no credibility.
 Yet still, they might one day rise to take over the Earth again, as they
did in the distant past. The freakish force they possess is strong. Even
without teaching or indoctrination into their alien ways, they are able to
call upon their powers to use for their own ends.
 The prime directive of the Consortium has always been that these creatures must not be allowed to exist. Above all, they must not be allowed to
exist together.
 And now, at last, after thirteen thousand years, we will be able finally
to fulfill that directive."
Saint  James paused to make certain that each man was giving him his full
attention. Then he moved slowly toward a seven-foot-long table covered
with a cloth of black silk and opened a chest of solid gold which sat atop
it. From the chest, he took the diamond pendant and held it up for all to
see.
A collective intake of breath was the only sound in the chamber. The
eyes of the white-robed men were focused absolutely on the magnificent
stone, a stone that shone like a living star, as Saint  James lowered its golden
chain over his own head.
 The Stranger will not come again," he said.
In a stateroom down the passageway from the auditorium, a Venezuelan
shipping magnate and an American film producer helped Liam dress in a
white robe.
Normally the teenager would have been embarrassed by this attention,
but today he was beyond embarrassment. Something worse, much worse,
was happening.
This was the day he had dreaded all his life.
 It will be your beginning, Liam," his father had told him as he had left
the stateroom to prepare himself for the assembly.  All your lessons and
I admit that some of them have been harsh have been to prepare you for
this."
The lessons. The beatings. The Practice.
 Father, I don't think "
 You will not contradict me," Saint  James had said evenly.  You are my
son, and someday you will take my place with these men. It is the sole
purpose for which you were conceived."
And he had left Liam to wait.
For what. Were all these men as crazy as his father? Did they all force
their children to mutilate animals? Did they beat their kids when they cried
because they did not like killing? If they did, he did not want to be part of
their sick little club.
He did not even know its name. Through all the drill, all the inane lessons
about the nonexistent history of a nonexistent country with its nonexistent
language, his father had never once told him what it was all for.
Now he apparently was supposed to assume a mantle of some kind,
receive the blessing of a bunch of rich wackos just for being the only son
of Aidon Saint  James.
One of the men dressing him clipped a gold brooch on his shoulder. It
depicted a bird Liam had never seen before.
He was frightened, scared to death. What would he be expected to do?
What had the Practice been for?
Be brave, the girl in the hospital had said.
The girl who brought sunlight with her.
Liam had never told his father about her. He had explained away his
missing clothes with a shrug.
 Guess somebody took them," he said.  What do you pay those body 
guards for, anyway?"
He had received a slap in the face for the remark, but he had not been
questioned further.
Then his father and doctor  Heaney had spoken about a girl who had fled
from the hospital. His father had told the doctor not to botch the job again.
What job was that? What did it have to do with the runaway girl? And
why had Sam Smith looked so shocked when he saw Heaney listed as Liam's
physician?
He closed his eyes. He did not want to think about any of it. He did not
want to remember his father reminding someone over the phone that it was
time to  dispose of all the loose ends."
He did not want to think about the yellow-haired girl who had told him
to be brave.
Carol Ann refused to set foot inside West Palm Hospital, so Darian and
Reba waited with her in a coffee shop across the street while Cory accompanied Sam to the radiology department.
 I tell you, I'm all right," Sam groused.  If my head were caved in, don't
you think I'd feel it?"
 The point is, twenty minutes ago your head was caved in. I saw it
happen. You're getting X rays."
Cory stole a look at Sam. It was amazing. The clothing he wore seemed
to have sustained more damage than his body. The faint flaking scabs that
crisscrossed his face in fine lines had been, less than a half hour before,
deep knife slashes. Most astounding, though, was the spot on his temple
where the pipe had smashed his skull.
Nothing remained of the wound. Nothing at all.
A miracle, she thought. Made by ordinary people and whatever power
they had been connected to.
At Cory's request, the nurse on duty called the head of radiology from
his office. He was a young fresh-faced doctor who seemed to be barely out
of his teens.
 Morning, Fred," she said.  This is my friend, Sam Smith. Could you take
a picture for us?"
 Sure. Anything special you're looking for?"
 He got hit in the right temple. I'm just trying to rule out fracture."
In one of the X-ray rooms, the radiologist had Sam lie on an examining
table, then placed a lead body apron over him. He positioned the large
chrome-plated camera over Sam's head.  Don't move," he said as they
retreated behind the lead-shielded wall to the control panel.
After the brief buzz of the machine, the doctor removed Sam's heavy
apron.  You just stay put a few minutes," Cory said.  We're going to develop
this film."
Sam nodded as the two of them left. He sat up, took a brochure on
radiation from atop a file cabinet, and idly began to read it.
Darian, Reba, and Carol Ann sat drinking their coffee without exchanging
a word. The experience they had gone through had left them all shaken
and drained.
Carol Ann was staring at her cup, her eyes unfocused, trying to regain
her strength. In one hand, hidden from view, she still clutched the small
gray stone she had found on the beach.
Reba looked around at the pretty luncheonette with its pastel colors,
thinking how far she had come from Stony Holler.
Darian was exerting all his will to hold back the tears which had threatened to explode from him since Sam's first groan of life in the alley.
You're all like me, the girl had said, and he had seen the happiness on
her face.
Jamie must have felt that way about the Rememberers.
God knew, the boy had not had that kind of kinship at school. His
classmates had ostracized him from the very beginning. They had jeered
him when he told them that the lights around their faces changed color as
they spoke. They had beaten him senseless when he said they would lose
the season's first baseball game to Miss Olsen's second grade class, and
they did. His teachers, too, had constantly hinted to the McCabes that their
son might be  troubled."
Crazy, they meant. Everybody thought Jamie was crazy.
That was why Darian had tried to bully the Sight out of him. If the boy
never got any pats on the back for his wild talk, Darian reasoned, he might
forget about it.
After all, what the hell was the use in seeing the inside of a tree, as Jamie
insisted he could, or in hearing the voices that called to him. . . .
From the Peaks . . .
Darian cleared his throat.
Oh, son, if I could have told you that I understood, that they were all
wrong and you were right . . .
Only the Rememberers had treasured Jamie for what he was.
 Were you on the island?" he asked quietly.
Reba knew what he meant immediately.  Not that day. I was with Sam."
 Sam?" Darian asked, shocked.
 He was born that night. I took him from the body of his ma in a swamp."
Her freckled, knotted old hand patted his softly.  Your boy come back
to you, Mister McCabe."
Well, I can't be a hundred percent sure, but look for yourself."
The young radiologist pointed his finger at the still-wet X-ray film hanging
on a viewing screen inside his office. Cory leaned forward as he traced his
finger over the image.
 No sign of current fracture. This line across the temple is from an earlier
injury, clearly. If your patient is suffering from some sort of mental disorder,
this might be the cause."
 Earlier?"
 Much earlier, maybe twenty years. But it must have been a beauty. This
was a twenty-centimeter fracture with starburst shattering. It's surprising
he survived it."
doctor  Gerald Heaney nearly sprinted toward the radiology department. He
had received a call from a nurse on staff telling him that doctor  Althorpe had
brought a patient into the hospital.
 Is the patient a teenage girl?"
 No, doctor  Heaney," the nurse reported, dutifully consulting her notes.  It
was a man." She would be paid for this information, and made certain it
was correct.  His name is Sam Smith. Possible skull fracture."
He had hung up at once and filled a syringe from a vial he kept in his
medical bag. Then he ran for the elevators.
Sam Smith! Krantz's ICDL and the psychiatrist both! It would be tricky,
he would have to work fast, but he could eliminate them both. Tie off two
of the  loose ends" at once. It might make up for losing the girl.
No, it won't, he thought as he peered into each of the radiology rooms
in turn. The Consortium didn't allow mistakes. Not even one.
The third room was the only one occupied. A young man sat on the
examining table reading a leaflet.
Heaney tried to still his hands as he entered the room.  Don't let me
disturb you," he said with a smile.  I just have to get something from that
cabinet behind you."
With one hand he fumbled noisily with the latch on the cabinet, while
with the other he reached into the pocket of his lab coat for the syringe.
What was inside it was a fairly simple decoction of digitalis and some
epinephrine derivatives combined with a toxin developed at the laboratory
in Geneva. It would bring on instantaneous cardiac arrest, followed within
seconds by death.
Heaney had administered the injection many times, though never so
publicly. Still, it would be possible to explain the sudden deaths of Althorpe
and this Smith. During the investigation which would be sure to follow 
he would reveal to the hospital administration, in great secrecy, that ICDLs
never lived long, and almost always died suddenly. Those facts were catalogued in twenty-nine years of research data in his lab. Sam Smith was
already listed as an ICDL. It would be a simple matter to add Cory Althorpe's
name to the list.
And Heaney would be believed. Because the data was real. And because
someone in West Palm Hospital's administrative offices, perhaps the admin 
istrator himself, was connected with the Consortium.
But Smith was alone.
 Excuse me, you don't happen to be with doctor  Althorpe, do you?" Heaney
asked.
 She's with . . . um, Fred," Sam answered.  The radiologist."
 Ah."
The radiologist, too. So there would have to be another death, Heaney
thought with a sinking feeling. Another and then another and another after
that. . . .
How has it come to this? he wondered sadly.
This was not why Gerald Heaney became a doctor. He had not expected
to spend his life killing like a trained attack dog.
The syringe in his hand was shaking as if it possessed a life of its own.
Sam looked over, then launched himself off the table.  What the hell are
you doing?"
Heaney flattened himself against the cabinets. The syringe hung between
his fingers like a cigarette. He was panting, his mouth gaping.
 Hey, what's the matter with you?" Sam demanded.
Just then, the door swung open and Cory walked in. The radiologist was
behind her.
She stopped in her tracks.  doctor  Heaney," she said.
 Heaney?" Sam put more distance between himself and the man with the
needle.  What's he doing here?"
 They're going to kill you all," Heaney said.  They won't need me to do
it."
Cory moved toward him.  Doctor   ."
 Stay back." He raised the syringe.
 Who do you work for, Heaney?" Sam demanded.  Saint  James?"
The doctor smiled wanly.  Does everyone know, then?" His voice was
faint.  He's got men all over the city looking for you. And he'll get what
he wants." He blinked once, slowly, and licked his lips.  Aidon Saint  James
always gets what he wants."
He unbuttoned his lab coat and one button of his shirt, then pressed the
hypodermic between two ribs, directly into his heart.
 Holy shit," the radiologist muttered, running for the nurse's station.
Heaney slumped to the floor. Cory went to him. He was already gasping
for breath. The hand that had held the syringe was twitching violently.
 Code blue.  The announcement blared out of every loudspeaker in the
hospital.  Code blue. Radiology."
Sam knelt down beside Heaney's convulsing body. Cory shoved him out
of the way and began CPR on the doctor. Within moments, a team from the
emergency room, two intensive care nurses, an EKG technician, a respiratory
therapist, a nurse anesthetist, and an I V. team streamed through the door
with a crash cart. In their wake were several young residents, all hoping to
be asked to participate in the procedure.
Brian Hartman, the hulking E R nurse, lifted Heaney onto the examination
table, then set up the defibrillator atop the crash cart and affixed two gel
pads onto Heaney's chest.
 Fine V-fib," he announced, watching the monitor with his practiced eye.
 Very fine, I'd say. Like a flat line. This guy's deader than Keely's nuts."
 Defibrillate three-sixty," commanded the E R doctor.  Clear!"
Everyone jumped away as Hartman applied the defibrillator paddles.
Heaney's body jerked up off the table.
During the proceedings, Sam was shunted farther and farther away until
he was edged out into the corridor, where he collided with Darian McCabe.
 Jesus!" the old man roared.  I thought that commotion in there was for
you. That blamed girl started to wailing, said you were in trouble again."
 It was doctor  Heaney," Sam said softly.  Bonner's old assistant, the blood
man." He ran his hands through his hair.  He killed himself."
Cory came out a few seconds later, looking disheveled and shaken.
 There's nothing more we can do," she said. Seeing Darian, she asked,
 Where's Carol Ann? Is she all right?"
 She was when I left her five minutes ago," Darian groused.
 Come on, let's get out of here," Sam said.  We've got to find a place to
hide her."
Following a polite knock at the stateroom door, Penrose stepped inside.
He examined Liam's costume fussily, adjusting and tucking like a mother
hen while the two Consortium members stood back.
Liam despised the man. Penrose was like some kind of evil spirit, always
hovering around his father. The fact that Saint  James hardly regarded his
assistant as a human being did not make it any easier for Liam to bear his
presence.
It had been Penrose who had chosen the Swiss boarding school Liam
attended, Penrose who visited him on holidays, sighing and looking at his
watch while he listened to the boy's excuses for his poor grades. It was
Penrose who sent Liam's birthday and Christmas presents to him, regular
as clockwork: subscriptions to Boy's Life in April, and a box of chocolates
at Christmas, signed  your father" in Penrose's florid hand.
Even the summers, the sacred summers when his father left New York
and traveled the world aboard the Pinnacle with Liam, did not exclude
Penrose. He seemed to be wherever they docked, his notebook and pencil
at the ready, his portable phone strapped to his waist like a sword.
Mostly, though, he hated Penrose for all the times the man had seen Liam
bloodied and bruised after his father's beatings and had pretended not to
notice.
 This is an important day, Liam," he said now in the air-conditioned
voice he usually reserved for the Consortium's workers.  Your behavior
must be impeccable."
 Oh, sure thing, Penrose, no problem. Of course, nobody has bothered
to tell me what I'm supposed to be doing, but I'll make sure to do it impeccably. You bet."
 You're not supposed to know," the man snapped.  It's a test. A test of
your courage and your manhood."
Like yours, Liam thought.  Give me a break."
 Would you like me to call your father?"
Liam instantly shriveled.  No," he said sullenly.
 Then you'll keep your smart-aleck remarks to yourself, thank you very
much."
Liam rolled his eyes. He could not wait to get back to school.  Just tell
me what this is about, okay, Penrose? Is that some kind of business club
out there that I'm supposed to join? Do I have to learn a secret handshake
or something?"
Penrose's hands, which had been adjusting Liam's belt, suddenly stilled.
He kept his head down for a long time.  I'm not a member," he said quietly.
Then he brought his head up, sniffed, and held open the door.  Good luck
to you, Liam," he said.
The two men who had helped Liam dress now preceded him down the
center aisle of the auditorium. As they moved in their stately procession,
the men in the audience rose.
Ahead, at the far end, stood Aidon Saint  James. Though he was dressed
outlandishly, in a black robe with long wide sleeves which hung down from
his extended arms like banners, his eyes held a coldness and strength that
made Liam shiver.
Then the procession halted. The men who had headed it fell away, melting
into the audience. Saint  James lowered his arms and stepped aside.
Liam gasped.
Lying before him, bound by ropes tied to crude iron stakes that had been
hammered into a long black-draped table, was a man.
He was naked. His head was lolling. His eyes were glassy, as if he had
been drugged, but inside their depths was a stark terror.
Liam knew him. He was a gemologist named Eames who had come aboard
the Pinnacle no more than a week earlier. He had been terribly excited
then, so excited that he had begun to babble about a stone of some kind
as soon as he had boarded the yacht, talking even in front of Liam and the
crew. Saint  James had ordered him to shut up until they were alone.
The stone must have been a jewel, Liam had supposed. People with
the amount of wealth his father possessed were always buying jewels as
investments.
He looked over to his father. A massive dagger-shaped diamond hung
from Saint  James's neck. That jewel.
Liam's face was pinched in bewilderment and fear. What are you doing?
he wanted to shout. Why was this man here, like this? Why didn't anyone
object?
His father turned slowly toward him, meeting his eyes. From his sleeve
he took a small curved knife with a bronze blade and placed it into Liam's
hands, which he covered with his own.
 Our sacrifice for the stone," he said.
Eames's eyes rolled wildly. His mouth worked.  Nuh . . . nuh   ."
They were the only sounds he could manage.
Liam watched him, aghast, as the man strained his muscles against the
ropes. Saint  James raised the dagger high.
 Remember the Practice," he whispered into his son's ear.
The Practice. The rabbit with its body split open, its heart still beating
in Liam's hand.
Oh God, no, no I hate you, Father, don't, no, no.
 No!" he screamed as his hands were brought down into the man's chest.


chapter 7.

THE FIVE OF THEM, SAM, DARIAN, CORY, REBA,   CAROL ANN, EACH CArried two supermarket bags filled with provisions and supplies as they walked
down the pier toward the Styx.
 Hope we got room for all this stuff," Darian muttered.  Not to mention
all of you."
Reba beamed.  Ain't it fine how we all come together like we did?" she
chirped.  It's like it was meant to be, all of us with the Sight and all."
 Speak for yourself," Darian said. Reba only laughed.
 But where are we going to go?" Carol Ann asked.
She rubbed her thin arms. In the coffee shop, while Sam and Cory had
been in the hospital getting Sam's skull x-rayed, a feeling of doom had
passed over her like a wave. Even when Darian had come back with them,
the feeling did not pass.
It was still with her, oppressive and nauseating: danger.
Cory moved closer to her.  We'll find someplace where you'll be safe,"
she said.
 That's not going to be easy," Sam said quietly, so that only Darian could
hear.  Heaney said that Saint  James has men all over town looking for the
rest of us, too."
 I can get you to any port along the coast," Darian said.  After that, you
better split up. Send the girl to a city, maybe. Someplace with enough people
so's she can get lost." He turned to Sam.  As for you . . ."
 Forget it, Darian. I'm staying with you."
 And getting yourself killed? Oh, that's using your head, Sam. Good
thinking."
 We got to stay together," Reba said.
 Stay out of this."
 I will not. I come near a thousand miles to be with you all, and one
thing I know is that we got each other and damned near nothing else to
fight what's coming. And it's coming, believe me. The air's thick with it.
That's why Carol Ann's looking so poorly."
 Yap, yap, yap," Darian said as he stepped onto the boat.
He led the group down the companionway into the galley.  Just try not

to mess anything up," he called behind him.  Everything on this tub's got
a reason to be where it is and "
 Hold it, Mister McCabe."
It was one of the young men who had escorted him to the bank. He was
holding a gun with a web silencer on it. His associate stepped out of the
shadows, directing the others to set down their bags and join Darian against
the wall.
 First Saint  James has you protecting me, and now he sends you to shoot
me. Is that it?"
 I'm sorry, sir," the young man said.
 Well, I can't say I'd expect anything more from the likes of that weasel.
But these folks don't have anything to do with the diamond. Let them go."
 We can't."
 Are you Carol Ann Frye?" the other man asked. Carol Ann nodded, her
teeth chattering.
 That's all of them," he said.  Plus the old lady." He looked to his companion and swallowed.
 What's the matter? Not used to murdering innocent people?" Darian
taunted.  Stay with Saint  James. You'll get to be experts in no time."
 Shut up!" The man with the gun trained on McCabe backed up.  Make
sure the door's closed up the stairs," he told the other.
The second man climbed up three steps of the companionway, then
stopped with a sudden grunt and reeled backward. As the group watched,
he flew back, sprawling onto the floor.
A yard-long spear quivered in the middle of his chest.
 What "
A whistling hiss cut through the air, and a second shaft struck deep into
the other gunman's heart.
Harry Woodson descended the companionway, a speargun in his hands.
 Are there any more?" he asked.
The group shook their heads dumbly.
 Good." He set down the gun.  There were only two spears."
Darian snorted once, then guffawed.  What the hell are you doing
here . .   with than"
 I brought over my submersible," Harry said.  I was inside it working
when I heard these two come on board your boat. I listened to them for a
while before you got here. They were sent to kill you." He looked over the
group.  All of you, I think."
 You got that right," Darian said.
 I would have called the police, but couldn't risk going to shore. So I
grabbed the only weapon I had in the sub."
 Hell of a good shot," Darian admitted.
Woodson hefted the speargun.  I've had twenty-nine years to practice,"
he said.
 Twenty . . ." Reba stepped forward.  That's where I know you from.
You're the college boy who fixed up our showers."
 Showers?" Woodson frowned.  I don't think . . . oh, man, it's Reba!" He
grabbed the old woman in a bear hug, forgetting the gruesome sight of the
dead men 
                                           
 Remember the showers you made for us on the island?" Suddenly she
pulled away from him and sucked in her breath.  Harrison, honey. You
lived."
He looked down at his wasted body.  Sort of," he said.  They came after
me."
 Me, too," she said in a whisper.
They stared at one another in silence for a long time.
Finally Darian spoke.  Somebody give me a hand with these bodies," he
said.
Fifteen minutes later they were seaborne. Woodson's submersible followed
behind the Styx, attached by a tow rope. Woodson stood on the aft deck,
watching.
 Does that thing work?" Sam asked.
 It goes down."
 That's a start. Does it come back up?"
 Don't bother me with details. I'm a policy-maker."
Sam squinted into the sun.  We're going east," he said, bewildered.
 Yeah?"
Sam ran to the bridge.  I thought you were going to take us north, up
the coast," Sam said.
 Saint  James'll have men on the lookout, most likely," Darian said. "  Specially once his shooters float back to shore. Wouldn't take a speedboat long
to catch up with us."
 So where are you heading?"
Darian gave a small shrug.
 East. Due east. . ." And then he knew, although he could hardly believe
it.  You're going to Memory Island, aren't you?" Sam asked in astonishment.
 Think I don't know what you plan to do with that hunk of junk of
Woodson's? Least this way, I'll be close by."
Sam looked out to sea. The Peaks . . . deep inside his mind, he could
already hear its song calling to him.
 What about the women? Your idea about us splitting up makes sense
for them. They'd be safer alone, in different cities."
 That old bat's not about to budge," Darian said. He wiped his nose with
the back of his hand.  Besides, she's right. The devil lives out there." He
spat out the window.  We'd best face him together."
Our two men are missing, and Darian McCabe's boat is gone from the
docks."
Penrose bit a hangnail.  When they last called in, they said that McCabe
and several others were headed toward the boat. Sam Smith was with them.
Also the psychiatrist from the hospital, a teenage girl who fits Carol Ann
Frye's description, an someone else, an old woman they said had been
hanging around the docks recently. I really don't know how McCabe could
have known . . ."
 They went to the island," Saint  James said laconically from behind the
desk in his office aboard the yacht.
 The you don't mean Bonner's island."
Saint  James nodded.  Indeed I do."
Penrose was unconvinced.  Well, doctor  Althorpe does own it, but surely
they know they'll be like sitting ducks out there. It would be smarter for
them to head north, or south around Florida toward Louisiana, where they
could move inland and separate. In fact, what's more likely is that they've
set the boat adrift and are already going their separate ways."
 They won't separate."
Penrose exhaled in exasperation.  I don't think they'd be so stupid as
to "
 Intelligence is not a factor," Saint  James said.  They'll stay together. And
others will join them."
 What?"
 They won't be able to help themselves."
Penrose looked away. He was not a member of the Consortium, he told
himself. He was only its telephone voice. His job was to do what Aidon Saint 
James told him, nothing more, nothing less.  Yes, sir," he said, somewhat
dispiritedly.  Shall we send someone after them? To the island?"
 Just one boat with a diver. I'll take care of the rest."
 Yes, sir."
Alone, Saint  James opened a small gold casket on his desk and lifted the
diamond from it. The stone's beauty was unearthly, perfect. It was already
doing its work, the work it had been inspired to do since the dawn of time.
It was calling to its people.
It would call them together, sending their strange blood surging with
life.
And then they would die. Together.
With Darian at the helm, they powered at high speed across the calm open
sea. The five passengers were sitting on benches built around the gunwales
on deck, when Sam doubled over with a groan.
 What is it?" Cory called out, running over to help him.
 The shivers," Reba said.
Sam looked up.  You . . . know?"
 Your pa got them, too. He said it was why he couldn't be a surgeon.
He never could tell when they was to come on."
Sam stared at her blankly, listening to the music inside him swell and
then fade as they passed over the Peaks.  Did you say my pa?" he asked
at last.
 Yes, Sam. Your folks was both doctors. I knowed them from a group I
was in a long time ago."
 The Rememberers," Sam said.  With Harry Woodson. And Darian's son."
 And your parents."
 But how . . . how did you   . I never even knew my own last name."
 It's Nowar, Sam. Your pa's name was Lars. Your ma was called Marie."
 Nowar?"
 They was killed for having the Sight, same as most of us. Harrison 
Harry Woodson and me, we're the only ones made it out alive." She
blinked rapidly.  Your ma called out your name with her last breath."
Sam thought.  If I had family, why was I raised in an orphanage?"
 I didn't think you'd be safe with them    or me. The killers was every 
where those days, like now. You was in another room when they come for
me the first time, but I figured sooner or later they was bound to find you.
So I had to put you in a place where nobody knew your name."
 Nowar," Sam said, trying it out.
 So you're connected with Memory Island, too," Cory said. She stood
up, cupping her palm over her eyes.  Look ahead. There it is."
Memory Island.
Sam took a deep breath. He had never seen it so closely before. Darian
had not permitted the Styx even to enter the waters surrounding it.
On the few maps which showed it, the island was just a speck at the
westernmost end of the Bimini chain. Technically, it was the closest foreign
landfall to the continental United States, although that fact was of little
interest to anyone except cartographers.
It jutted out of the sea like a shining rock less than a mile away. The
whole of Memory Island was, in fact, more a rock than an island. Barely
three square city blocks in size, the stony beaches along its perimeter were
sloped gradually after centuries of bad storms and high seas. What scant
vegetation existed was a far cry from the cultivated lushness of much of
the Caribbean. There were a few clumps of trees with thin, snaky trunks,
some scrub bushes, and, among the jagged rocks, hardy weeds growing
tall.
Still, it exuded for Sam an attraction so strong he could barely control
an impulse to shout in triumph.
Come to me, Sam, called the voice from the sea, its music strong and
throbbing.
Inside his heart he answered it: Yes, soon. Soon.
Harry Woodson could feel his heart beating as he looked past the small
cove to the charred remains of the building which had housed the Remem 
berers. All those present had all died there.
All except me.
He could still hear the explosion as the speedboat hurtled into Bonner's
house with the impact of a bomb. He could still see the men with guns who
came ashore minutes later to shoot the survivors, though they had found
none.
That sound, that image, had haunted him for nearly thirty years. He
had changed his name and switched his occupation; even his physical
appearance had altered so radically that he would be unrecognizable to his
closest friends from his life before that terrible day. And yet the fear had
never left him.
For someday, he knew, they would come back. They, who had murdered
a twelve-year-old boy who might have worked miracles with his genius.
They who had raped a pregnant woman and then shot her to death.
And they had come back. They were here now, somewhere close by,
and it was just a matter of time before they found Harry Woodson again.
Only this time I'm not going to hide, he thought. This time, you're going
to have to fight me.
The fear had hardened him. It was the fear that had enabled Woodson
to kill the two gunmen in Darian's galley without a shred of remorse. Even
when their bodies were dumped in deep water, he had entertained no
thought beyond extracting the speargun darts from their flesh without damaging the steel tips.
Yes, he thought, looking at the sun-splashed island, this time he would
fight.
Reba covered her eyes with her hands.
It was too much, too much to bear. Why did I have to come here, Gramt
she asked. Here, to this place where she could all but see the ghosts of the
dead.
 Cause they're here, child, Gram answered. You come to be with them.
 Then I'm going to die, too," she whispered into the wind.
Maybe. Since when you been afraid of that? Gram chuckled, the way
she did when she knew Reba was talking nonsense. Honey, you know why
you come.
 Sam," she breathed.  I was supposed to lead him . . . someplace. . . ."
She dropped her hands. Memory Island stood shining in front of her.
 Here?"
Suddenly the sun felt warm on her face. She looked around at the others,
absorbed in their own thoughts. Gram had told her about them, too. Others
would come, she had said, and here they were, the new Rememberers,
coming to take the next step forward.
Coming home.
Carol Ann had never been to Memory Island. All she knew about it was
what Reba had told her, that it had been a place of death and horrible
destruction.
And yet, feeling the salt spray in her face as the rocky shore grew nearer,
she felt suffused with a sense of peace and comfort.
/ belong here, she thought. We all do.
A seagull swooped down close and landed on the rail in front of her.
It's coming, it seemed to say.
But  it" was no longer terrifying.
 Angel's wings," Carol Ann said softly, slowly turning her hand palm up.
With one finger, she gently stroked the gull's white breast.
The place was filled with angels.
They would help the six who came to face the evil day.
The gull blinked at her with its little reptilian eyes, then released some 
thing from its mouth into her hand.
It was a seed.
Carol Ann looked at it with wonder as the bird flew away.
The last time Cory visited Memory Island, the blood had still been there.
That had been five years ago. It had taken Cory most of her life to steel
herself to face the scene where her grandfather and the special people
whose minds he explored with such fascination had died.
From the water, Bonner's house looked as if it had been flattened by a
hurricane. Heaps of rubble were piled around long jagged planks of gray
wood. Cory had visited the place with plans to remove all trace of the
wreckage. She would hire a boat to take away the glass and appliances and
wiring and plumbing. The wood would be burned, the stonework dropped
back into the sea. Then, on the leveled ground, she would build another
house, a place where she could come to be alone. She would build a
windwall around it and bring in soil to plant a vegetable garden surrounded
by orange trees.
This would be her home when she grew old. It would become the land
of her dreams.
All that had changed when she saw the blood. It had darkened from red
to black on the rotted wood that lay in splinters, but there was no mistaking
what it was. There had been pools of it, washed away by the police after
the bodies had been neatly laid on the ground, but the dark stains had
never come off the floor. Even after two decades of weather, with weeds
growing through the deep cracks in the cement slab underfloor, she could
still see the death there.
Cory left that day and never came back.
Until now.
That blood will still be there.
She wanted to run to the bridge, tell Darian to turn the boat around.
There was nothing for them here, in this place of ruin and tragedy. Whatever
promise had once taken root here was dead.
There's nothing left.
Tears filled her eyes. Through her wavering vision, she saw the place as
it once might have been, two gleaming pyramids rising out of the green
land like beacons to the stars, and behind them the lush meadows and
woodlands and the great cities. Beyond them was a dazzling archipelago
of islands surrounded by ships with a hundred oars each, all dwarfed by
the great mountain, the volcano towering over the world. . . .
What?
She clutched the rail with all her strength to keep herself from falling.
Woodlands? Cities? Pyramids?
She felt dizzy, utterly disoriented. Her ears rang sickeningly, blocking
out the sound of the wind and the ship's engine and the cry of the circling
gulls.
 The volcano," she said, unable to hear her own words.
IDarian stared grimly ahead to the small mooring harbor. He had docked
 there twenty-nine years ago when he came to claim the bodies of his wife
and son.
There had not been much left of them. He had recognized Jamie only
 because that particular mound of blackened meat was smaller than the
 others. Rose had fared a little better. She was wearing a pin Darian had
 given her for Christmas one year, a yellow enameled daisy with a small
 diamond chip in its center. The pin had been melted into her skin.
He felt his hands shaking as he cut the engine and began steering the
 boat into the harbor. Ahead, the charred ruins of the building where the
 power boat had exploded stood like a monument to the killers who had
 burned his family alive.
None of them had ever been caught.
I'll kill you, I'll kill you all.
His hands flew off the helm.
This was where he had first heard those words, the words which had
 sounded in his head for nearly thirty years afterward.
There had been a thick fog that day, which had made it difficult for Darian
 to negotiate between the police and Coast Guard cutters that had jammed
(the narrow inlet.
That's right, the fog, he thought. The fog had come out of nowhere.
Darian had hesitated stepping off the boat. By that time of morning, he
 knew, the flies would be swarming around the bodies. He had not wanted
 to see the flies.
Maybe the fog will cover them, he had thought.
Then he had heard a terrific clamor rising around him, bells and horns
 and screams, all from the sea around him. The fog had turned to smoke,
 smoke that burned his lungs, and ash that fell black on his face as he tried
Jto maneuver the huge ship out into open water. His compass was no more
 than stones in a bowl of water and was useless in the roiling waves.
People were crowded in around him, screaming, panicked; on land, the
 very earth groaned as it opened up, swallowing those who ran toward the
 safety of the water. Water shot out of the ground in spouts nearly a hundred
 feet high. Great marble buildings collapsed like toys. In the distance, a
 massive monument exploded into fragments.
And through it, through the ear-shattering noise and the carnage that
(was worse than any vision of Hell, came a voice through the fog, clear and
 low, filled with evil magic.
 kill you, I'll kill you all. You and your children and theirs, through
 all time, through all eternity."
All eternity.
It had been nothing, of course. No smoke, no bodies in the sea. Just an
 illusion. When Darian had looked outside the bridge, the Coast Guard boats
had still been moored in the foggy harbor. The only sounds were the faint
voices of the law officers who had come to clean up after the massacre on
the island.
And then, after identifying the remains of Rose and Jamie, he had forgotten
all about the vision.
Craziness, he thought now as he set his hands deliberately back on the
helm, unaware that the back of his shirt had turned dark with sweat. Pure
craziness.
It had been excusable, he told himself. His wife and son had just been
killed in what he had believed at the time was a freak accident. No one
could be expected to think right at a time like that.
But that did not explain why gradually, almost imperceptibly, the bridge
was now filling with fog again, and a bell sounded in the distance, growing
louder, and from somewhere in the sea came the voices of people
screaming. . . .
 Darian."
The old man clapped his hands to his ears.  No, damn you! I won't hear
it! I won't hear it anymore!"
Sam stood before him, frowning.
Darian took one hand from his ear and slowly swatted the air. There was
no fog now.
 I'll bring her in," Sam said, spinning the helm to turn the boat around.
 Might as well dock ass-in. We've got the room."
Darian nodded, the movement of his head jerky and uncertain.
 We might want to leave in a hurry," Sam said with a smile.
Darian leaned against the far wall and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
 Damn hot in here," he said.
 Yeah, it's a scorcher," Sam answered, although he was not particularly
warm. He maneuvered the boat into the slip, meanwhile calling out orders
to Woodson, who pulled up the towline of the submersible.
Finally both craft were moored side by side.
 You all right?" Sam asked.
 Why wouldn't I be?" Darian barked.
 Okay. I'll go tie her up."
Darian heard the thumping of feet on deck, then felt the boat sway as
the passengers disembarked.
When they were all well away, Darian emerged from the bridge. The
wind was calm here, the sea blue and clear.
He stepped off the boat onto the dock. The rotting planks creaked beneath
his shoes. On the shore he scooped up a handful of pebbles. Some of them
were white. Marble, he thought. Marble in the Caribbean.
He let them sift through his fingers. With a sigh, he stuck his hands into
his pockets and walked up toward the ruin of a house.
 Never thought I'd see this place again," he mumbled.

chapter 8.


DARIAN FOUND THE OTHERS STandING IN THE RUBBLE OF WHAT HAD ONCE
been the main room of the house. The end wall nearest the harbor had
been torn out, and most of the roof had been destroyed by flames. Only a
few charred beams were still in place.
The old man was seeing it for the first time. When he had come to reclaim
his family, the fog had blessedly spared him the sight. But the place was
plainly visible now. The speedboat had raced through the inlet, jumped the
little strip of sand separating the house from the sea, and slammed into the
wall. It had been carrying some sort of accelerant and had exploded on
impact.
The heap of charred wood to Darian's left had been the dining tables.
His son and his wife had been sitting there when they died.
Reba dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Woodson left the site without a word.
 We'll sleep on the boat tonight," Darian said thickly.
There was no disagreement.
After a moment, Sam clapped his hands.  All right. We might was well
clear away this stuff, so we can stay on the island if we have to. We don't
have much daylight left. And we've got to eat."
 There used to be an old wood-burning stove in the kitchen," Reba said.
 If it still works, we can eat out here." She touched her fingers to her lips.
 If that don't bother anybody."
 All's we got in the galley's a hotplate anyway," Darian said, picking up
an armful of planks.  We'll take these down to the shore."
Sam and Cory did likewise.  On the way back, we'll get some of the
provisions." Cory made a face.  Too bad it's all canned."
 I can catch some fish for us," Carol Ann volunteered.
 Give it a try," Sam said.  There are a couple of poles in the hold."
 Oh, I won't need those," the girl said, scampering off.
Sam watched her go.  Where's she from?"
 Philadelphia."
 That figures." Sam started down the hill.  Let's remember to bring a
couple of cans of corned beef hash."
On his fourth trip to the beach, Sam saw Woodson hauling a rowboat
onto shore.
 Where'd you find that?" he asked.
 On the other side of the island. I remembered Bonner kept a few of
them there, covered with tarps. This was the only one that stands a chance
of staying afloat more than ten minutes."
With a final heave, Woodson grounded the boat.  I thought we might
tow the sub to the other side of the island and submerge it." He made a
small movement with his shoulder.  Just in case."
 In case someone comes after us?"
 Well, it's a possibility, isn't it? Here we are, right out in the open. I figure
if for some reason we can't get to the boat, the six of us might be able to
squeeze into the sub. At least for a few minutes," he added dubiously.
Sam smiled.  It's as good a plan as any. We'll tow the sub tonight."
By the time the sun had begun to set, Sam's muscles were twitching. He
had not eaten or slept in two days, and was feeling punchy. With a grunt,
he hoisted a canvas duffel bag filled with broken glass and debris over his
shoulder. They would bury it all tomorrow.
At the site, Reba was sweeping the area clean. Below, Cory was staggering
under the weight of a box filled with rubble as she followed Darian and
Woodson, who carried a loaded tarp between them. They were all as grimy
and sooty as chimney sweeps. Sam was making his way toward a section
of beach as yet unfilled with detritus, when he caught sight of Carol Ann
standing in a shallow lagoon, singing.
That's just great, he thought, feeling irritation well into anger. The rest
of them were working their butts off while the flower child from Philadelphia
was practicing arpeggios.
Then he saw, lying on the sand of the lagoon, a pile of fish.
There were at least a dozen of them, still wriggling with life as Carol Ann
bent over, singing her wordless little tune, and snatched a shining grouper
out of the water with her bare hands.
 I'll be damned," sam said, laughing.  A psychic fishing trip."
Hearing him, she looked up and waved, then gathered up the fish onto
the wide apron of her shirt. When she reached the top of the hill, her cheeks
were flushed.
 Think this is enough?" she asked, displaying her catch.
They ate sitting on the bare ground around the wood stove, which now
stood incongruously in the middle of an empty plain, while around them
the setting sun put on a grand show.
 I think that was the best meal I've ever eaten," Cory said, crumpling
her paper plate into a ball and tossing it into the stove.
 Let's hope it's not the last," Darian growled.
 Now, you stop that," Reba chided.  We're going to be all right. You all
know as well as me that we're meant to be here."
 I know no such thing," Darian said.  Truth be told, I think we're a bunch
of damn fools sitting around waiting for somebody to use us for target
practice."
 Why'd you bring us here, then?" Reba countered shrilly, setting her chin.
 Okay, guys," Sam interrupted.  There's no point in arguing about why
we're here. The fact is, we are here, and we're going to stay here, at least
until we come up with a better idea. So maybe we should quit bickering
and go back to the boat."
They all lumbered to their feet, their exhaustion accentuated from sitting
so long on the chilling ground. Sam helped Harry Woodson, whose crippled
body refused to obey him.
 I think I'm going to need a few hours sleep before we tow the sub,"
Woodson said apologetically.  My joints aren't feeling so great."
 You'll get no argument from me, buddy." Sam worked his shoulder
under Woodson's armpit and the two of them walked slowly toward the
Styx.
 You were right to stop those two at dinner," Woodson said.  Still, I've
been thinking the same kind of thing myself. We are waiting for something
here. I don't know about the others, but I've been waiting for days, ever
  since "
 The diamond," Sam finished for him.
 Yes. From the moment I first laid eyes on that rock, I've been . . . well,
I consumed is the word, I suppose, consumed with a need to finish that
  submersible. As soon as I put in the last bolt, I brought it to you."
 Just in time to save our lives."
 Exactly. It's as if pieces of a puzzle are falling into place at the precise
  moment when they're supposed to."
Woodson tried to move his nearly useless legs as Sam half carried, half
 dragged him toward the dock.  There's something else," the black man
  said.  I resigned from the museum."
 How'd you know we'd be leaving?"
 I didn't. I just knew it was time for whatever I'd been waiting for, and
  that whatever happened, I wasn't coming back."
 What do you mean?"
 I mean that for twenty-nine years I've lived in hiding, and I'm not going
 to hide anymore. If that means I get killed, I don't really care," Woodson
said.  But I'm never going to take up that scared-rabbit life again. You're
 looking at a new man, Sam."
Sam shifted his weight beneath Woodson.  Weighs as much as the old
 one, though," he grunted.
Woodson laughed.  Let go. I think I can walk now." Wincing, he took
a few tentative steps on the dock.  The sad thing is, it looks like we're the
ones who've been chosen to fight whatever's coming. Some army, huh? A
(cripple, an old lady, a ninety-pound girl   ."
Sam helped Woodson propel his ungainly body over the rail onto the
 deck of the boat.  I keep asking myself, why us?" the black man panted,
 why these particular six people?"
Sam looked at his hands.  I can't answer that, Harry. But I think it's right
somehow."
 Yes. I feel that, too. Despite everything, this is the right place and we're
the right ones to be here." His eyes shone.  Goddamn, I'm ready."
Sam slapped him gently on his bent back.  Get some sleep."
 We should go before dawn. Saint  James might already have sent someone
out for a look."
 You got it. I'll wake you in a couple of hours."
Sam awoke at 2 45 with the music swelling around him.
For a moment, he lay curled in his blanket, listening, feeling Her, the
siren in the sea, as She wound Herself around every molecule of his being.
Sam, you're close now, you're so close
What are you going to do to me? he silently asked.
Love you. I have always loved you. Always.
He felt his eyes cloud with tears.
Jesus, man, come off it, he told himself. He had a job to do. That was
all. Tow the sub . . .
To the Peaks.
  . to the other side of the island.
And then come back.
He got up and turned off the alarm he had set for 4 A M.
After he had gathered up scuba gear for two, he woke Woodson.  Put
your wet suit on under your clothes," he whispered, so as not to wake the
others.
Woodson raised his eyebrows. He had not planned for them to enter the
sub at all, but he did not argue. Sam usually had good reasons, even if he
did not always articulate them well. Woodson put on the wet suit, then
layered a heavy wool sweater and a pair of jeans over it.
Carrying the rest of their gear, they climbed quietly up onto the deck. A
small light glowed in the bridge. Darian was awake.
 You going?" he asked.
 We'd better move the sub before daybreak."
 Be careful."
 Nothing to it."
 If you come back and I'm not here, stay put. I'll be back to get you."
 Sure thing, Darian."
The old man watched them step out onto the dock and head for the
rowboat with the sub's towline. They fastened the line, pushed the rowboat
into the water, then paddled into the darkness. Within a few minutes they
were out of sight.
Darian stared out into the blackness of the night. Will I ever see him
again? he asked himself. He had not gotten Sam away in time. He had
hoped to protect the boy who had been sent to him as a second chance,
but instead had brought him to the same place where his own son had died.
It did not matter now how that had happened. It made no difference that
Darian knew, as did Reba and the others, that Memory Island was where
they were all meant to be.
All he could think of now was that he had just given up his second son
to the devil.
Woodson was a powerful rower, his oars cutting cleanly and quietly in
the water.
 You tired yet?" Sam asked.  I can take over."
 I'm fine. You sure you know where we're going? I can't see behind me."
 I know. I've got a compass in my head."
 Yeah, well, I hope it's working. Because it seems like we've come out
pretty far."
 We're almost there."
 If I'd known you wanted to stash it so far away, we could have ridden
in the sub and towed the boat," Woodson complained.
 We need to save the sub's batteries."
 For what?"
 Want me to row?"
 I'll tell you when I'm tired, okay?" Woodson said irritably. He rowed in
silence for another few minutes, then said,  I can't even see the island from
here."
With his head, Sam gestured toward it.
 Behind us?" Woodson shouted. He laid down the oars.  You have got
to be jerking me off."
Sam shook his head.
 We were supposed to take the sub to the other side of the damn island!"
Sam said nothing for a moment, then looked at him pleadingly.  I've got
to dive the Peaks, Harry," he said quietly.
 Now?"
 Yes."
 Why?"
 I   . I don't know. Something . . . someone is calling to me, Harry. It's
music. The most beautiful music I've ever heard. And there's a woman's
voice   ."
 Oh, for chrissake," Woodson said.
 I won't be down long. Besides, that's what the sub's really for, isn't it?
So that we can check out the place where I found the diamond?"
 The operative word here, Sam, is  we." Meaning I'm ostensibly a member
of this diving team, too." Woodson's eyes bulged with outrage.  Now excuse
me for being a stick in the mud, but I'm not really that thrilled about
attempting a major exploration at the crack of dawn without so much as a
map of the area."
 I told you. I can find it without a map."
 Not to mention all the seismic activity that's been occurring in the Peaks."
Woodson looked around nervously.  Jesus H, even the Coast Guard's quit
sending their boats out there. How far away is it, anyway?"
Sam sighed.  An hour. Maybe a little more."
 Good. We're turning back." He grabbed the oars.
 Harry, please." Sam touched Woodson's arm.  I've got to see the Peaks
again." He strengthened his grip.  I've got to."
Woodson rolled his eyes.  So then why didn't you tell me back on the
island? Or at least some time before we were five miles out to sea?"
 I didn't know then. At first, I just wasn't paying attention when you
started going in the wrong direction. But then something inside me said,
no, this isn't the wrong way, this is the right way, and you've got to keep
going, . . ."
 To the goddamn Peaks."
 To the Peaks," Sam said softly.
 Where you got the Rapture."
 We have the sub now, Harry." He smiled.  Actually, we ought to give
her a trial run, anyway."
Woodson's jaw tightened,
 Ten minutes, okay? I just want to go down for ten minutes. It'll be full
light by the time we get there. Afterward, we'll bring her back to the far
side of the island."
Woodson sighed, He drummed his fingers. He looked heavenward with
disgust.
 Shit." He thrust the oars at Sam.  You row."
It was nearly five o'clock when Carol Ann sat bolt upright on the cot where
she had been sleeping and ran barefoot up to the bridge.
Darian was fiddling with his radio, receiving nothing but static.
 They're coming," Carol Ann said breathlessly.  Lots of boats. Big ones,
with guns and soldiers who kill for money. They're going to come onto the
island. I saw them.   ."
 Damned frequencies are jammed," Darian said, tossing down his head 
set. He looked at her, bleary-eyed.  What's this you're saying?"
 I had a dream, Mister McCabe. Someone's coming for us."
Just then Reba entered the cabin. She was wearing one of Darian's old
jackets over her dress. Cory was behind her.
 Mister McCabe . . ."
 Don't you start, neither of you," Darian warned.
 Where's Sam and Harry?" Reba asked.
 They took that U-boat around to the other end of the island." He looked
at his watch.  We'll give them ten more minutes. If they're not back by
then, we'll leave without them."
 No," Reba said belligerently.
Darian met her eyes with equal ferocity.  Last time I checked, I was still
captain here. I said we're leaving."
 We can't, Mister McCabe." Reba's voice had softened.  It's got nothing to
do with the boys. We were meant to be here. We got to stay."
 Reba, they're going to have guns," Carol Ann said.  I saw them. . . ."
 I did, too." Reba's chin quivered.  But we got to fight them here
together."
 Bullcrap," Darian said.  If what you saw is true, we're getting the hell
out of here." He started the boat's engine.  We'll pick up the boys on the
far side of the island."
He pushed the throttle forward. Nothing happened. He threw the engine
into reverse. He turned the wheel. The boat did not move.
 Damnation!" he muttered, smacking the helm.
 What is it?" Cory asked.
 Seaweed, most likely," Darian said. He turned off the ignition, then got
up out of his chair with a sigh.  Something's got the propeller stuck. I'll
have to go down and clean it up." He stomped down into the hold to put
on his diving gear.
Twenty minutes later he was back on deck.  The propeller's been taken
off," he said, unzipping his wet suit.  It's gone."
 You mean someone sabotaged it?" Cory asked.
 Looks that way. Must have happened while we were up on the island
yesterday." He took off his flippers and threw them on the deck.
 It had to be that Saint  James," Carol Ann said.  Look, it's me he wants.
The rest of you shouldn't have to go through this. When he comes . . ."
Darian waved her down.  It's not just you. Never was. Besides, it's too
late to do anything about it now." Discarding his wet suit, he threw on his
clothes.  Get some of these tools together," he ordered.  We'll have to
build some kind of barricade on the island. No point in giving that turkey
a clear shot at us."
He picked up two rifles.  Speaking of shooting, this is what we got in
the way of weapons. Any of you ladies know how to use one of these?"
 I used to be pretty good with a squirrel gun," Reba said.
Darian tossed her one of the rifles.  Guess we better get moving," he
said.

chapter 9.


ONCE THE EASTERN SKY BEGAN TO LIGHTEN, DAY BROKE FAST. BY THE TIME
Sam set down his oars, the red ball of the rising sun was already tinting the
ocean around them into a field of fire.
Woodson, who had been sitting silently for the past hour and a half with
his arms crossed over his chest like an angry potentate, grudgingly took
the oars.
 It's okay," Sam said, panting with exertion.  We're here."
Woodson looked around him.  How can you tell?"
Sam shrugged.  I just know."
Woodson shielded his eyes.  That a boat out there?"
 Yeah. Looks like a pleasure craft."
 Treasure hunters, no doubt," Woodson said.  Since the Coast Guard
started coming here with the undersea eruptions, the papers have been
dredging up the old stuff about the loot people found back in the sixties.
I understand they've had their hands full rescuing idiots who've come diving
out here unprepared." He looked pointedly at Sam.
Sam grinned and stood up in the rowboat.  Hello!" he called. There was
no answer.
 If it's a diver, he's probably already down," he said.  I just didn't want
to scare him."
 We probably won't even see him." Woodson pulled the towline until
the submersible was alongside the rowboat.  He's too far away and we'll
be on the bottom. Okay, let me brief you on how this thing works."
He pointed to a large riveted hatch on the top of the sub.  We get in
and out through this escape hatch. Once we're inside, we secure the hatch
and then kick on the pump switch. It's big and red, you can't miss it. It'll
pump all the water out of the compartment. Then we can open the side
door into the main section of the submersible. That's where we'll be for
most of our ride."
 What about air?"
 I've rigged up an air recycling system, pumped up with some added
oxygen. We should have enough to breathe down there for maybe five or
six hours. After that, we'd have to breathe from our tanks and use the rest
of our power to surface. The problem with submersibles, of course, is just
like electric cars. The damned batteries don't last long enough. And half
the weight of this machine is batteries. We'll be okay for ten minutes,
though." He looked at Sam.  You did say you wouldn't be down for more
than ten minutes."
Sam nodded reluctantly.
 We could do more if we had to," Woodson conceded.
Sam beamed.  If the sub works," he said.
 Guess we're going to find out." Woodson untied the towline, and he
and Sam squeezed into the tight compartment. When the hatch was closed
behind them, Sam felt a shudder of panic. After the brightening of morning,
the little chamber was black as death and held precious little air.
Then Woodson flicked a switch and a small light, not much brighter than
a night light, began to glow.
 That makes it homier, doesn't it?"
 Just like Grandma's."
Because the sub was still floating on the surface, no water was in the chamber
so it was not necessary to use the pump. Instead, Woodson opened another
hatch between the escape chamber and the main passenger compartment,
reached inside, and tossed another switch to turn on the interior lights.
There were small fixed seats for two on either side of a long curved
window which ran from the bow of the sub and down under it for almost
half the craft's length.
Sam followed Woodson inside. After the hatch was closed and locked,
they were sealed in the submersible's passenger section. Along the walls,
Sam saw six scuba tanks and three sets of regulators and diving gear.
Sam settled into the seat alongside Woodson, who worked a series of
switches on the control panel as the metal walls reverberated noisily.
 What the hell's that?"
 Relax. We're taking on water so we can dive," Woodson said. A moment
later, the sub began to settle downward.
Through the curved glass, they watched the ocean around them grow
darker with their increased depth. Then Woodson turned on a pair of outside
spotlights, almost like a car's headlamps, and the scene lit up around them
like a huge aquarium.
 How deep did you say this place was?" Woodson asked.
 About fifty feet, most of it. But I found a deep pocket. My gauge read
a hundred fifty feet, but it might have been busted."
 Maybe not," Woodson said.  You're not the first to report pockets of
that depth. That's why they call it the Devil's Triangle."
The devil lives here.
Sam shuddered.
Woodson turned on another switch. They felt, rather than heard, a small
electric motor that propelled them forward as well as down.
 We watertight so far?" Woodson asked.
 No leaks that I can see."
Woodson turned out the interior cabin lights so that he and Sam could
see without reflection into the ocean. They reached bottom in another ninety
seconds, the depth meter registering forty-eight feet here.
 Any special direction you want to go?"
Sam was beginning to shiver.  No. You can just cruise."
 What are you looking for?" Woodson asked as he moved the craft gently
forward.
 I'm hoping to recognize something from my last dive. There were two
big long things, like columns . . . there!" he shouted excitedly.
 What's that?" Woodson asked, looking at the sea-encrusted cylinder on
the seabed.
 The damnedest thing, Harry. Underneath all that coral and barnacle, it's
metal. Man-made."
 Out here? Why didn't you tell me about this at the museum?"
 Go slow, now. When you reach the end of this one, we might find the
other one. It's still standing. Or it was last week.   
 I see it," Woodson said tensely.  I'll be damned."
 Whatever they are, they were buried until the bottom got pushed up
during the seaquakes. This is where I found the pendant. And somewhere
around here is the cave where I saw the volcano."
 Might be interesting to see what's in there now, without the Rapture
working on you," Woodson said.
Sam turned to him.  Want to go swimming?"
Woodson laughed.  Best suggestion I've heard all day."
Together, Sam and Woodson swam toward the vertical metal column.
Things looked so different during the day, Sam thought. Although the
sun was not high enough for its light to penetrate fully, the shapes of things
were distinguishable, even away from the submersible's powerful lamps.
There was none of the sinister mystery which had seemed to permeate the
sea floor during his last dive.
Woodson, he could see, was jubilant. When they reached the column,
he paddled around it like a fish, knocking it, holding his ear to it, then
standing at its base, trying to take a measure of its immense diameter by
comparing it with his outstretched arms.
The sight was startling. Under the pressure of the ocean, the nitrogen
bubbles that were permanently in Woodson's joints shrank. Here his twisted
body now stood straight and tall.
The sea owns him, Sam thought. She crippled him, but he keeps coming
back. Because when he's with her, she makes him whole again.
He thought of his own siren who lived in the sea. He could hear her
music now; it had been welling in his blood since before he awakened.
Is that what you're going to do with me make it so that nothing's any
good without you, so that I stay down longer and longer until one day I
just don't come up at all?
He did not have time to listen for an answer. Inches from his head,
something sped past and slammed into the column near Woodson. As it
drifted toward the bottom, Sam recognized it as a spear just like the ones
Woodson had used to kill the gunmen on board the Styx.
He spun around. Two divers were heading out of a ledge of coral toward
them. Sam and Woodson both began swimming toward the submersible,
but the other two had a better angle. Before Sam could reach the hatch,
another spear flew at him from less than twenty feet away.
Collapsing his body sideways, he managed to avoid the hit. Saint  James's
men, he thought. How long had they been here? How many speedboats
like the one he had seen topside were dotted around the area of the Peaks,
with divers below paid to kill him?
As the diver tried to reload the speargun from a pack at his side, Woodson
swam toward him, pulling out the utility knife he kept strapped to his leg.
Seeing Woodson's powerful speed, the diver jabbed the spear in his
hands at him, but Woodson's arms were too strong. He grabbed the spear
with his free hand and yanked the driver toward him. With one stroke,
Woodson cut the man's air hose.
A gush of white bubbles rose immediately around both men. The diver
panicked, kicking up silt and mud in his rush to get away, but Woodson
held him fast. Sam took out his own knife and turned in a full circle, looking
for the other diver, but he was nowhere in sight.
He motioned for Woodson to come back. If they could reach the sub,
they would be able to outrun a single diver, speargun or no.
But Woodson was not paying attention to anything except the diver he
held tightly in his grip. While Sam swam over to them, Woodson reached
over with his knife once more and cut the man's throat. Then, before the
inky fluid and the churning mud completely obscured his vision, he brought
the knife down again.
He's losing it, Sam thought. For Woodson, these were the same men who
had attacked him underwater nearly thirty years ago. He wasn't going to
stop until every drop of blood had left the man's body.
And maybe not even then.
Sam propelled himself, blind, into the thick murk, grabbed what he hoped
was Woodson's knife arm, and pulled it back toward the safety of the
submersible.
He pushed Woodson into the open hatch and was coming in behind him
when another spear hammered alongside his head.
The impact knocked Sam forward and slammed the hatch shut. Dazed,
he sank slowly to the ocean floor. He could see the blood from the wound
above his ear floating past his eyes, but he felt somehow disconnected to
it, as if his body no longer belonged to him. The steady hiss and churn of
air from his tanks was hypnotic.
Sam . . .
Slowly he turned his head to look through the muddy water. Ahead, he
could discern the shape of the dead diver on the feathery ocean floor.
Already the sea was claiming the man, covering his body with silt. Beyond
it lay a cave.
A cave glowing with a soft green light.
Yes, he thought. I knew I would find it again.
Now, Sam. Come to me now.
The music touched him like a kiss, then enveloped him. Nothing could
harm him, no one could invade the glorious space around him. She was
there, so close now, so very close.
Effortlessly he rolled away from the sub and began to swim.
Inside the escape chamber, Woodson had to lock the hatch and then
wait for agonizingly long seconds while the pump ejected the water from
the small compartment.
You're not getting away this time, you bastard, he thought, slamming
his fist against the wall. Not this time. Then he opened the other hatch to
the passenger cabin, snatched his own speargun, and reversed the entire
process.
By the time Woodson got back outside, he could see no one. The sea
around the sub was a thick, dark muddy soup.
He swam cautiously away from the lights, hoping the second diver would
show himself in them. As he moved, a long shape brushed against him,
touching the back of his hand with its sandpaper skin.
Shark.
Fear rushed through him as the fifteen-foot-long creature glided past
without interest.
It was a tiger shark. Even in the muddy water, its striped markings were
visible as it weaved sinuously toward the dead diver and the cloud of blood
around him. It must have sensed the blood almost as soon as it was spilled,
Woodson realized, regretting his rash action. At the time, he had only wanted
to kill the man. He had not considered the possibility of drawing sharks.
Now the blood would bring yet more predators. And Sam was somewhere
in the water.
With its wedge-shaped head, the shark nudged the body once, twice,
waiting for it to move. Sharks would eat a corpse, Woodson knew, but they
preferred their prey lively. They were equipped with electroreceptors which
enabled them to pick up even the tiniest nerve twitch or muscle movement
in the darkest water. A bleeding, frightened man was a perfect dinner.
Oh, Jesus, Sam, get over here.
Out of the corner of his eye, Woodson saw a small movement off to his
left, beyond the stern of the sub. Instinctively he rolled into a ball as a spear
whizzed nearby and struck the sub with an audible chunk.
The shark looked over at the sound, its round doll-eyes gleaming yellow.
But Woodson was no longer watching the shark. Steadying himself, he
aimed his own speargun at the swimming figure, and fired.
The spear struck the man in the thigh. Dropping his own gun, he rolled
over in the water, pulling at the shaft as ribbons of blood circled around
him.
Woodson knelt on the bottom, preparing to fire a second time, when the
shark left the dead diver and shot forward.
With a single snap, it bit off the wounded diver's leg. A stream of bubbles
shot upward as the man's mouthpiece fell out and he screamed silently into
the water.
The shark propelled him, still screaming, toward the light of the sub's
headlamps. Woodson recoiled in horror at the sight of the diver's flailing
body folded over the shark's snout as they swam together in a grim dance,
with banners of blood and white bubbles trailing behind them.
Saml he wanted to scream. Where the hell are you'?
In the full light of the headlamps, the shark flung the diver aside. Woodson
watched as it hesitated momentarily, then lunged, its triangular teeth
exposed, to tear out the man's belly.
And then the others came.
The second shark was larger, close to twenty feet. Two others, young
by their clear markings, followed behind. The big tiger nosed the first away,
claiming the food as its own, but the original hunter was already crazed
with blood. It spun around and tore a massive chunk out of the big shark's
flank. The younger sharks joined in, now also intoxicated with the wild
smell of death, indifferent to their own safety, intent only on feeding, as
into the light swam four other sharks.
Oh, Jesus, Sam . . .
There was nowhere to go except inside the sub. As it was, the sharks
might well attack it, too. in a feeding frenzy, they would bite anything,
including metal and plastic but Woodson knew he had no chance outside
it, and it would be no more than a matter of seconds before one of them
noticed him.
Don't come around now, buddy, he thought as he swam slowly upward
toward the hatch. Wherever you are, wait this out. I'll find you, I promise.
Trying to keep his movement steady and slow, he released the hatch and
crawled inside.
From behind the curved glass of the window, he watched as the sharks
tore into one another, flopping and swirling in their crazed, mindless
destruction.
Woodson felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sam was still
out there. And then he forced himself to admit another possibility: He's
already dead.
If he was, Woodson knew, it would be his fault.
Sam had brought him to the sub after he had killed the diver and had
probably closed the hatch over Woodson because the second man was
coming close.
And Woodson, instead of coming back out for Sam immediately, had
wasted time getting a weapon.
He grasped his elbows. Without the pressure of the water on them, his
joints were already beginning to ache.
My fault.
It had been stupid, selfish. He had left Sam alone and defenseless against
a trained killer with a speargun, just because he could not bear the thought
of letting the man get away.
 My fault," he whispered.
Then he saw it, some distance beyond the sharks: a cave mouth, glowing
with the same phosphorescent light he had seen in the big diamond. And
swimming toward it, illuminated by the faint green radiance, was a man.
 Sam!" Woodson shouted inside the sub.
Sam was swimming with such slowness that he seemed to be drifting,
but it was not a dead man's float; Woodson could see the steady movement
of flippers and a rhythmic exhalation of air.
Manipulating his stiff fingers as fast as he could, Woodson switched on
the electric motor and eased the sub forward.
The sharks noticed. One of them darted toward him and thumped its

snout on the sub's metal skin. The sub jerked slightly but remained undamaged. The other sharks spared it no more than an incurious glance, returning
to feed on the carcasses of the two divers and the big tiger shark.
Woodson hoped the sub-attacker would lose interest and go back with
the others, but it remained with the craft, swimming circles around the sub's
nose, occasionally fixing Woodson with its big, dead-looking eyes.
 Get away," he muttered, slowing the sub even more. The last thing he
wanted was to lead the shark to Sam. He veered the submersible away.
 Come on, baby, follow me. . . ."
But the shark had sensed the moving flippers on the man near the cave.
Its interest in the sub vanished utterly as its long upper tail lobe thrust
powerfully in a burst of speed.
 Oh, God, no!" Woodson shouted, rising out of his seat.  Sam!"
Sam looked back, almost as if he had heard him. His expression was
bewildered, like that of a man who had just been awakened from a dream.
With a glance, he took in the sub, Woodson inside it, and then the shark
coming at him like an arrow. His body arced in pure terror. Hands splayed,
he cast about wildly.
Woodson strapped his tank back on, reloaded his speargun, and headed
for the compartment with the hatch. A few moments later, he was outside
and swimming toward the cave mouth.
The circling shark was some fifty feet from Sam and moving fast, while
Sam seemed to be frozen in one spot. He turned his face toward the cave,
then to the shark, then back to the cave.
Woodson shot one spear, but he was too far away. It bounced off the
shark's tough skin like a rubber toy.
Get out of there, Sam, he pleaded silently, slicing through the water as
fast as he could. At least give me a chance to catch up with you.
The shark swam closer.
Sam took a final look at the cave, then swam inside.
The shark was right behind him.
Jesus! Woodson thought. The cave would be like a barrel for the shark.
It would nose Sam against a wall and finish him then and there. By the time
Woodson could get there, Sam would be a drifting pile of raw meat.
Why'd you go in? he screamed inside his head. Why in God's name did
you have to go inside? The seconds it took Woodson to arrive at the mouth
of the cave seemed like hours. When he did, his speargun was ready. He
had one shot; he knew it had better take. And then, if he killed the shark,
he would bring what was left of Sam's body back to Memory Island.
Another death.
As he approached, the cave dimmed, as if whatever current had illuminated it had suddenly shut off. Woodson turned on his own safety light,
raising and lowering it over the entrance. He had expected a storm of
swirling silt, but there was nothing. The place was as calm as an underwater
lagoon.
Slowly he swam inside, pressing the light against his speargun. The light
fell on the shallow walls, crusted with lichen. On the sea floor, grasses
waved with the soft current.
It was empty.


book four.U
THE FOREVER land.



He swam toward the light.
Yes.
Her voice, clear as bright water, guided him upward
through the music.
Light . . . lighter . . .
He broke through the surface of the calm sea. And
gasped.
He was there, in the place he had seen inside the cave.
In the distance, two pyramids rose out of the green land,
flanking a mountain whose flat top seemed dimmed by low
clouds.
A volcano.
 My God," Sam whispered.
Then he saw a shark's dorsal fin break the water and
make a large lazy circle around him.
The shark from the Peaks. It had followed him here.
       
Sam turned with it, watching its movements. He was reaching for the knife that
was strapped to his leg when he heard a shout.
A large wooden sailing ship moved by so closely that Sam might have collided
with it. Men stood on deck, watching him, watching the shark. Then one man strode
forward, past the others, to stand at the rail.
Darian?
No, of course not. Sam thought in a welter of confusion. The man did not look
anything like Darian, except for his granite-hard eyes.
Where was he?
In the moment it took Sam to unsheath his knife, the man held up what looked
like a spear and threw it, the muscles in his right arm bulging, directly over Sam's
head.
And then Sam saw that the weapon had not been a spear. Its three prongs quivered
deep inside the shark's body as the creature thrashed in its death throes: a trident.
Dropping the knife, Sam swam quickly from the spreading circle of the tiger
shark's blood toward the shore, but before he managed a dozen strokes, he felt a
rope net dropping over him.
A moment later, he was hauled from the water like a giant fish, pulled to the
deck of the big wooden ship, and dropped there.
The granite eyes gazed down at him.
 Where am I?" Sam demanded.
The sailor regarded him impassively. Then he turned to bark orders at his crew
in a language Sam could not understand.
Except for one word. Sam had recognized a single, shocking word.
For what the man had said was in a language long forgotten:  Move on smartly,
boys. On to Atlantis."
Atlantis.
Sam had arrived at his genesis.


book four

chapter 1.

It began with a stranger.
With a stranger shall it begin again.
THE WORDS ETCHED ON THE GIGANTIC STONE PYRAMID SHONE CLEAR IN
the bright sunlight.
Athena felt the heat beneath the thick silver headband she wore, but
gave no indication of her discomfort. She was a princess of the royal line
of Atlantis, attending the funeral of a hero. She would not sweat.
She stood on a balcony built into the front of the massive pyramid. Before
her, past three perfect concentric circles of canals, the turquoise sea lapped
gently onto the sand.
To her left, across the channel known as the River Styx, the Land of the
Dead awaited its newest resident.
The dead possessed a pyramid of their own, identical to the other except
for its truncated top where a slave now knelt, his head covered, his hands
bound, awaiting impassively the sacrificial knife of the high priest.
The high priest Hades who was, to Athena's perpetual dismay, her
uncle, was mounting the thousand steps to the pyramid's apex. His face
was covered by a huge and grotesque mask of red and gold, bounded by
feathers. The slave would look upon that mask before he died. It would be
the last thing he would ever see.
Athena turned away.
Beside her, Rhea, mother of the king, wept openly as the gilded funeral
barge came into view. It was no secret that even before her husband, Cronus,
had been deposed as king and exiled, Rhea had loved Prometheus. Even
now, though Prometheus had been a commoner, she felt no shame in weep 
ing at his passing.
The barge bearing Prometheus's body was flanked by drummers on either
side of the canal, beating the slow, deep rhythm of a heartbeat. As the boat
passed below her, Athena searched the crowd of mourners for the tall figure
of Poseidon with his unkempt mane of curly gray hair, but there was no
sign of him.
He'll be furious to have missed it, she thought. Her uncle Poseidon, of
all people, should have been present. He was the one who had brought
Prometheus's body home, despite accusations that, as a traitor, the old
soldier had no right to burial. Poseidon had fought that edict tooth and nail,
finally getting his way only by giving his own tomb to house Prometheus's
remains.
He could do whatever he wished with his chamber in the death pyramid,
Poseidon had argued. And what he wished was to give it to the man who
had been his second in command, along with all the pomp that would have
been accorded Poseidon's own passing. The fact that Prometheus had been
a common soldier born in a hut meant nothing to Poseidon. His friend
would be given a prince's funeral.
 Make clear the path!" The aged boatman, Charon, shouted the words
which had begun every royal funeral procession for the past thousand years.
 For one of the Royal House passes on his way to eternity!"
Athena knew that both Prometheus and Poseidon would have had a good
laugh over that. But to the common populace, it was a rare and wonderful
thing that one of their own had ascended, even if in death, to the heights
of the king-gods.
And so the commoners, who usually attended royal funerals only as
entertainments, stood in silence, their heads bowed, as the funeral barge
floated past.
Even the slaves, who silently rejoiced at the deaths of their captor-princes,
halted their work and crept out of doors, venturing as close to the barge
as they dared in order to catch a glimpse of the man who had died giving
fire to the world.
For that, in the slaves" minds, was what Prometheus had done. It was of
no importance that he had only lighted one torch to keep an injured slave
woman and her children from freezing, or that even the most primitive
tribes on the two continents flanking the islands of Atlantis already knew
the use of fire. For them, the story had already reached mythic proportions.
And the outcome had been the same as if he had indeed bestowed a divine
gift upon the savages of the lands from which these slaves had come.
Prometheus had been executed by his own countrymen for showing compassion   to beings the Atlanteans did not consider human.
From the far fields of the plain, a lone slave began to sing. It was a song
from the eastern mainland, perhaps from the very land where Prometheus
had died. The even rhythm of the funeral drums accentuated the simple
melody and strange words which carried to the mourners on the wind.
The wind blows
And we are scattered like seeds
To clutch the Earth,
To bloom for a moment,
To die like dust in the wind.
And the wind blows . . .
Someone near her in the royal mourning party picked up the song. It
was her brother Apollo, his voice sweet and pure as a bell, his eyes half 
closed as the breeze caressed his blond curls. He meant no disrespect for
the soul of Prometheus by his singing. Athena was sure he was not even
aware of what he was doing. He so rarely was.
Next to him, his twin sister, Artemis, looked fiercely ahead at the funeral
barge, her hand held in a fist over her heart. If Artemis had not been a woman,
she would have been the greatest of warriors. Her salute to Prometheus was
a mark of respect for a man who had proven himself in battle over a span
of more years than most people lived.
Near Apollo stood the black man called Hephaestus, the great builder
and engineer. Like so many others, he owed his life to Prometheus.
As an infant, Hephaestus had  fallen" from the high priest's hands during
his naming ceremony. Later, Hades would claim that the accident had been
an act of the gods demonstrating that the brown-skinned son of the king
and his African concubine was not welcome in the land of the living. But
while the child had lain bleeding on the floor, Prometheus, alone among
all the multitude who watched, had defied the priests" gods by picking up
the baby and taking him to his mother.
Hephaestus's bones had been broken too badly to heal perfectly. He had
grown up crippled and in pain. Yet the mind of this bent, slow-moving man
had designed the strongest dams, the swiftest ships, the most sophisticated
metalwork in the world.
But his greatest accomplishments, the one by which Hephaestus would
be remembered to the end of time, were the pyramids.
They were marvels, these two structures whose floors hung as cantilevers
from a central metal column anchored deep in the rock of Mount Olympus.
Unearthly in their austere beauty, they had been built to last forever.
Two of them, Athena thought as the high priest reached the top of the
thousand steps. Below him, the shining stone surface of the pyramid was
streaked with brown blood. One a king's palace, the other a sacrificial
altar.
Her eyes filled with tears of anger. To use Hephaestus's masterpiece as
a killing ground was an obscenity.
Things had not always been so. There was a time, long before Athena's
birth, when no blood was spilled in the name of the gods.
But then, in those days there had only been one god, and She was a
woman.
Athena had learned the legends from her mother, whose family had
followed the old ways. Not many did anymore. Most of the citizens of
Olympus did not even know the origin of the words on the great palace
pyramid.
It began with a stranger. . . .
They had been the dying words of that same Stranger. The priestesses
of the temple of Gaea had preserved the ancient paper on which they had
been written for more than a thousand years. They had revered him as the
true husband of Gaea, spirit of the Earth.
But the priestesses were all dead now. Their temple had been razed to
the ground more than forty years ago. Gaea Herself had fallen out of favor,
replaced by the stern religion of the god-kings. Now that her mother was
dead, almost no one except Athena ever thought about the Stranger.
The Stranger. How fitting that he should have had no name.
He had no history, either. In the legends, he simply had come out of the
void to shape the great civilization of Atlantis with the knowledge brought
from his unknown land and by the Power held in his mind.
He could see into the future, the legends said. He could heal with a
touch. He could discern a person's thoughts. This was the Power.
From his seed had come all the great kings of Atlantis: Atlas, Oceanus,
Uranus, Cronus, many others.
To them he gave his knowledge, the tools to change Atlantis from a
primitive island of half-humans into the glory of the world. The early kings
developed wheat, domesticated animals, learned to forge metal out of ore,
brought farming to a new level of productivity. They built ships which
opened up the world to them, produced books which passed on the truths
of science and mathematics to future generations, created music, fostered
painting and architecture, invented devices which allowed them to examine
the stars themselves.
But he had not bequeathed the Power to them. That he had given only
to the goddess worshippers and their offspring, and they had guarded their
secrets well. It was only in the temple of Gaea that the great crystals,
resonating with the sounds and colors that could heal the sick or ease the
troubled mind, could be found. It was only through the priestesses that the
souls of the dead could be recalled. Only the women who served the goddess
knew how to divine what was to come, and the place of mankind within
All That Was.
Perhaps they should not have kept their secrets, Athena thought.
In time, the kings grew to discount the Power held by these women.
They formed another religion in which their own ancestors, the deceased
kings of Atlantis, were worshipped as the creators of the universe. After all,
they had created everything of importance, they said. The king-gods brought
wealth and peace and dominion over all other lands on Earth. They ensured
lives of comfort and refinement for Atlanteans by providing foreign slaves
to perform tedious work. Their concern was with the present world and its
inhabitants, not some vague, all-encompassing cosmos which depended on
the myth of a nameless man and his make-believe magic to exist.
People liked the new religion. Eventually, the priestesses were regarded
as foolish women and their goddess the outdated remnant of a primitive
time. And when Gaea the Earth spirit first grumbled that she was displeased,
a slave was sacrificed to the king-gods, who silenced her.

chapter 2.


As THE DEATH BOAT BEARING PROMETHEUS'S BODY TOUCHED THE SHORE OF
the Land of the Dead, all heads turned toward the thundering of hoofbeats.
Poseidon galloped a white stallion right up to the edge of the crowd at the
base of the royal pyramid, then dismounted in a cloud of dust. He was dirty,
still dressed in the short tunic of a seaman. Athena smiled. Her uncle had no
doubt jumped directly from his ship onto the waiting horse.
Across the narrow channel, the priests lifted Prometheus's body from the boat.
The drumbeats stopped, and in a voice that echoed over the crowd, Hades began
to intone the prayer for the dead.
Poseidon's jaw clenched as he entered the balcony to join the family.
Hades had issued the order to kill Prometheus. Poseidon did not relish the
idea of his friend's murderer praying piously over his body, but he took some
satisfaction in knowing that Hades probably loathed having to do the praying.
But he did not regret for an instant having given up his own burial tomb. If
there was such a thing as eternity, he wanted his brother Hades to spend it in
the chamber next to Prometheus. At least then the old soldier would have a
chance to get even.
A harsh chuckle rose in Poseidon's throat. / wish I could see that, he thought.
Beside him, Athena nudged him gently.
 Sorry," he whispered.  I was just thinking about Prometheus and Hades
meeting in the afterlife."
She smiled and shook her head.  Uncle, you're incorrigible," she whispered
back.
 Did you miss me while I was gone?"
 Terribly."
 Good. I brought back a gift for you. A man."
Athena slitted her eyes. Poseidon had been teasing her about her unmarried
state for years.  I pulled him out of the sea myself. A most unusual type. He had
the skin of a seal." He grinned, then saw his mother Rhea looking at him with
eyes like steel daggers. Poseidon cleared his throat and arranged his face into a
look of proper solemnity while Hades finished his droning prayer.
On the top of the death pyramid, two priests held the slave over the sacrificial
block. He screamed, trying to resist, but the priests kept him down. Then Hades

stepped forward, his knife held high. He plunged the blade into the slave's chest
and brought out a still-beating heart.
Even Athena's presence could not mitigate the disgust Poseidon felt. In a
lifetime at sea, he had watched countless men die, both on water and on land,
but even in the most savage hinterlands he had never seen death administered
with the inventive cruelty of Hades and his priests.
The crowd below let out a roar of approval. They loved the sacrifices. Since
Hades had become high priest, the practice had grown to new heights. Even a
commoner's wedding required at least one sacrifice. A royal marriage demanded
a dozen or more. The birthday of one of the king-gods used scores. And for the
great festivals, the pyramid in the Land of the Dead ran red for days on end.
Poseidon spat over the side of the balcony.
When the dead slave's body ceased twitching, Prince Ares, dressed in bronze
battle gear and wearing a high crested helmet, stepped out onto the altar and
accepted the heart from Hades's hands.
Strutting young butcher, Poseidon thought miserably.
Hades had issued the order to kill Prometheus, but it had been Ares who
carried it out. He had tied the soldier's wrists and ankles to stakes set into the
ground beside a boulder, then slit Prometheus's belly so that the blood would
draw predators. By the time Poseidon arrived, vultures had already plucked out
Prometheus's eyes. His entrails had been eaten by wolves.
Poseidon found himself shaking with rage all over again as he watched the
priests carry the coffin into the pyramid. Ah, Prometheus, how could you die
and leave me with this piranha as my second in command'?
It was inevitable now. As the king's eldest able-bodied son, Ares would take
over Prometheus's position as land forces commander. There would be no shortage of slaves for Hades's sacrifices anymore. Worse, unless the king named another
successor before his death, Ares would one day inherit the throne.
The gods help us all, he thought.
Athena saw the look of distress on her uncle's face and offered him her hand,
cool and steady.
Poseidon regarded her calm features with admiration. Now if this one were
only a man, he mused. There would be no question about naming an heir then.
Athena was intelligent, level-headed, and serious. Though the king met daily
with his council, it was not to them he turned when he wrestled with a particularly
difficult problem, but to Athena. She spoke little, listened much, and understood
everything.
And she could fight, too, Poseidon remembered with a smile. When Athena
had first arrived in Olympus from the Atlantean out-island where she had been
raised, she presented herself to her father the king wearing a breastplate and
carrying a spear and shield. The court ladies had been shocked, but from that
moment the king and Poseidon, too had loved her.
Yes, this is a ruler born.
Above them, a banner bearing the blue encircled cross of Atlantis unfurled
to signal that the king was to appear, ending the funeral rites. The king
ruled over the living; the time for the dead was over. Athena stepped back

with the others to make way for her father and his wife, Hera, as the crowd
below cheered.
Hera was vacantly beautiful. Next to her, the king looked like an old
man.
He's dying, Athena thought.
When she first came to Olympus to meet the king, she had expected the
exuberant, dynamic man her mother had talked about so often during their
long years of exile. From the moment of his ascension, Metis had told her
daughter, she had known that he was to be the greatest king Atlantis had
ever produced.
Because none of the king-gods had ever possessed the Power.
None, until this one.
Until Zeus. The Thunderer.
On the day he took the crown, those of the old religion had fallen on
their knees with gratitude to the Earth spirit Gaea. Here at last was the
amalgam of heaven and earth: a king in whose body pulsed the pure blood
of the Stranger.
Others carried the Power in their blood, Athena knew, even though the
kings never had. She herself did, as had her mother Metis. Through the
years after she had been forced to leave Atlantis, Metis trained her daughter
in the use of the Power just as she had trained her to weave and read and
throw a spear.
 You will find others like you in Olympus, " Metis had told her.  They
have come to be with your father, drawn by the Eye of Zeus."
She was referring to the massive diamond the king wore as a symbol of
his office. Said to have been carved by the Stranger's own hands, every king
of Atlantis had worn it. But only for Zeus had it come to life.
The stone had glowed upon his chest, Metis remembered, from the
moment it first touched him. And with its indescribable fire it had drawn
from others, as himself, a Power beyond anything human. Her mother's
prediction had proven to be true. After Metis's death, Athena had returned
to Atlantis to find the family she had never known, and with them, a well 
spring of the Power.
Here she had met her half brother Apollo, with whom she could communi 
cate without a word being spoken, even over long distances. And Rhea,
the queen who had given birth to her son alone, in a forest, because she
had seen death waiting for the infant in the royal palace. Athena had come
to love Hephaestus, whose genius was so deep that it went beyond mere
intellect, and Poseidon, who could sail any sea without a map or a compass.
But her greatest feelings of tenderness were for her father, the king.
Because by then the Power he had been born with had already deserted
him.
With a stranger shall it begin again. . . .
He was to have fulfilled the cryptic prophecy kept so long by the priest 
esses of Gaea. The people looked to him as the great king who would join
the old religion with the new, and make Atlantis whole again. He was to
have been the Stranger come back to life.
For a time, perhaps, he might have believed it himself.
He had been magnificent, a lion of a man with flowing auburn hair and

the fire of the universe in his eyes. Under his leadership, Atlantis underwent
a renaissance of art and technology. Beautiful new buildings graced the
elegant streets of the capital city of Olympus. With his brother Poseidon,
Zeus sailed uncharted seas to explore new lands, which he assimilated into
the empire with the enthusiasm of a father welcoming a new child. Through
new, far-seeing trade policies, he changed the face of the world. Mainland
outposts once used only to harvest slaves were transformed into settlements
where Atlantean tools and grain were traded for local ore, animals, and
labor.
For the first time in more than five centuries, foreign workers came volun 
  tarily to Atlantis. During their stay, which was limited to a year, they were
well fed and housed, given medical care and educated. Then they returned to
their homelands, respected and knowledgeable about the island archipelago
where the gods lived.
Athena bowed her head. Those days were long past. She was grateful
that Metis had never learned the truth, that one by one, Zeus's progressive
trade policies had been reversed. That within half a year of Metis's banishment, slavery had resumed. That the world no longer regarded Atlantis as
a land of gods, but of demons.
Zeus had not been the Stranger come back to life. To look at him now,
he was hardly even a king. His broad back was bent, as if it carried an
invisible weight upon it. His hair had turned white. The eyes Metis had
remembered, filled with the fire of the Power inside him, were weak and
rheumy. Even the amulet he wore, the fabled Eye of Zeus, had lost its
dazzling brilliance. It hung around his thin neck like a worthless piece of
rock.
Zeus the Thunderer, Athena thought sadly. A dying god in a dying land.
As the king and his wife waved to the crowd, the Earth began to shake.
In the city square surrounding the palace, the crowd of people who had
come to watch the funeral threw themselves on the ground. Poseidon ran
down the steps for his horse, which shied and whinnied, its eyes rolling
wildly. Across the canal, on the pyramid in the Land of the Dead, the
sacrificed slave's body tumbled off its pedestal and fell with a thud to the
stone pavement.
On the balcony, Queen Hera shrieked and ran inside. Athena's eyes
flickered over to her.
How could Zeus have discarded my mother for her? she thought with
contempt.
Earthquakes were no longer uncommon in Atlantis. The tremors that
weakened the buildings and broke the dams around Olympus had been
going on for decades, but they had grown much worse in recent months. The
sturdy mud-brick homes of the farmers now tumbled down with dismaying
regularity. A special contingent of soldiers had been formed expressly for
the purpose of putting out the fires that followed each quake. The pyramids
themselves, though Hephaestus had built them too well to be damaged,
were now often surrounded by a soggy mire.
The words echoed through Athena's mind: a dying land.

Beside her, King Zeus staggered on his feet as the tremor shook the very
foundations of the huge pyramid, but he kept his arms upraised and his
head high, as if a mere earthquake meant nothing to him. Within a few
seconds, all was silent again. Slowly the people in the square got to their
feet and saw the figure of the king, immovable and permanent as the sun
in the sky, silently willing their fear away.
They went wild in a frenzy of adoration for him, shouting and throwing
their hats in the air as they knelt in fealty to the white-haired ruler who,
surely, would deliver them from harm.
 How I love you," Athena whispered.
She saw that his eyes were filled with tears.

chapter 3.

THE COMMONERS MOVED ASIDE AS ATHENA   and POSEIDON, LEADING HIS
horse, made their way from the large plaza toward the royal park.
 Give an old man a few minutes," he said, smiling.
 I have all the time in the world," Athena said.
Her uncle sighed.  Unfortunately, I do not. After the council meeting 
which I insist you attend, if for no other reason than to keep me from
strangling Hades with my bare hands the king will want to hear about my
last voyage. I probably won't see you again for days."
Athena gave him a wry smile. The old sailor had women waiting for him
in every city in Atlantis, and he was doubtless eager to visit them all.  I
think you'll manage," she said, stroking the stallion's nose.
 Don't be pert." On the crest of the hill in front of them appeared a line
of men in shackles, flanked at intervals by soldiers.  Damn," Poseidon
muttered.  I was hoping you wouldn't have to see this."
Athena sighed.  The slaves would still exist, whether I saw them or not."
They waited in silence as the captives crossed in front of them on their
way to the canal. From there they would be taken to the prison inside the
death pyramid.
They were broken men, snatched from their homelands, brought starving
and nearly naked to die horrible deaths for the glory of Atlantean gods
whose names they did not know. Some of the prisoners were shaking with
fever; others showed wounds which were already festering.
 They need medical attention," Athena said.  I can help them. Apollo
and I "
Poseidon shook his head.  Don't even bother hoping. Hades won't let anyone
into the Land of the Dead. And it's just as well you don't know what goes on
there."
The bystanders coming from the funeral jeered the foreign slaves. Children
threw stones at them. As the slaves moved along, the Atlanteans turned up their
noses or grimaced with the stink of the savages.
Poseidon pointed to the end of the line, at a slave with close-cropped hair.
 That's the one I was telling you about, by the way. We removed the seal skin
from him, along with a number of strange objects. I think he may be a spy."

 You'll never know."
 Why not? He may talk."
 There wouldn't be any point in it. He knows we'll kill him anyway. That's
what we do to all foreigners in Atlantis."
 That's enough, Athena," the sailor said irritably.
Just then a stocky farmer, arrayed in his finest tunic, cleared his throat and
spat in the face of the short-haired slave. The captive tried to make a retaliatory
move, but the soldiers guarding him yanked the chains binding his wrists. He
cried out in pain.
 Stop," Athena called.  Halt the line, Uncle."
The guard looked beseechingly at Poseidon, who shrugged.  Halt the line,"
he shouted. At the sound of his voice, the entire procession ground to a standstill.
Athena walked over to the farmer, her angry gaze boring through him.
 It is no more than a quirk of fate that you are not in this man's place," she
said coldly.
The top of the farmer's bald head flushed crimson as he fell to his knees. He
had been perfectly within his rights to spit on the slave, of course. But he had
not thought that the Princess Athena would see him.
 Forgive me, my lady," he begged.
Athena turned from him and looked at the slave. The guards were still struggling
to hold him back from the fat farmer, whom he regarded with blazing hatred.
Athena tore the hem of her dress and reached over to wipe the spittle from
his cheek. As she approached, the slave turned his head toward her. He met her
eyes straight on.
It felt like a hammer blow, that look. Athena stepped back suddenly, her breath
caught in her chest. For in the slave's eyes was something like . . . recognition. Her
mouth opened. The pounding of her heart was so loud she could hear it.
 Athena?" It was Poseidon, frowning, looking from her to the foreign slave.
 What "
Abruptly she handed the scrap of cloth to a guard.  Clean him off," she ordered.
Then, careful not to look at the slave again, she walked quickly away.
 Take this one to the palace and have him prepared to meet the king's council,"
Poseidon ordered the guard. After the line shuffled forward once again, he walked
his horse through the gates into the park. Athena was far ahead of him.
 If you go any faster, I'll have to ride to catch up with you," he called.
Finally she stopped and sat on a bench to wait for him. When he reached
her, Athena's eyes were wide and frantic.
 Gods above, what's happened to you? Are you not well?"
 I'm " She swallowed.  I'm fine, Uncle. Now that it's stopped."
 Now that what's stopped?"
 The . . ." She caught herself.  Nothing, Some random thoughts. Nothing."
She smiled and squeezed Poseidon's hand.
She had not realized until she spoke that what had filled her mind since she
had first seen the slave was music.
Music, as wild and strong as the sea.
chapter 4.
THE SOLDIER PRODDED HIM WITH THE POINT OF A SPEAR. SAM JERKED FOR 
ward, toward the gleaming white pyramid on the far side of the plaza.
A pyramid, he thought.
This was a dream. There was no question about that. What he needed
to know was how to wake up.
Because it was clearly no ordinary dream. As fantastic as the events in
it had been, he could account for every minute. Well, almost every minute.
He had passed out on the deck of the weird-looking ship, he remembered
that. When he had come to, he was somewhere in the hold, lying on straw
filthy with excrement and vomit, surrounded by men chained as he was.
Suddenly, without warning, a sob welled up inside his chest.
It's finally happened.
His worst fear had come true. His freakish mind had finally betrayed him.
He was insane.
He had always known he was crazy. Even the kids at the orphanage had
known it. Sam the bedbug, they called him.
He could not blame them. He had told them he heard voices. Sometimes
they even heard him answering them.
But he had learned to hide that. He tried not to act crazy. In time, the
boys at Saint  Anne's stopped staying up at night to hear him because he didn't
answer the voices anymore.
As he grew, he learned to hide the craziness better. Darian never sus 
pected. When Sam had experienced his first, shocking wet dream, the old
man had never suspected that the boy had not been alone. He had been
with Her, the nameless faceless voice who filled his heart and body with
music.
Even Cory Althorpe, who should have known better, thought that Sam
had a gift. But it was no gift. It was just madness. And sometime during the
course of this past day, that madness had at last burst through the fragile
casing of his will. Sam the bedbug was free at last.

There was no reality anymore. He recognized nothing, not a ship, not a
building, not even the language spoken all around him. He knew no one.
 Atlantis!" he had heard the big sailor on that outlandish vessel call out.
Atlantis, off the coast of Florida. Oh, good, Sam. Very good.
It must have happened at the grotto. That was where he had tossed away
his sanity the last time.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. The guard poked him in the back
with the spear, and pain shot through Sam's body again.
No. Concentrate. Concentrate. The grotto . . .
The Rapture. It was possible. He closed his eyes, trying not to panic. It
was possible that he was still somewhere in the middle of the ocean, his
body slowly filling with nitrogen while his mind escaped to this fantasy
world.
That would explain a lot. He could see himself twirling wild-eyed in a
bed of seaweed, playing the bongos on his air tanks.
But it wouldn't explain everything. Such as how long it was taking him
to drown.
It had been hours. The shark, the ship, the long march, the fat slob who
spat in his face, the woman with the gray eyes. Hours. More time than a
man could live on the bottom of the sea.
He was not dying. He was just crazy.
Inside the pyramid, Sam was washed by two dour women and then led
down a corridor to an immense room with walls of pale blue stone.
The first thing he saw was a huge mosaic of a gold cross circumscribed
in blue. It was the same design on the pottery shard he had found on the
beach. He had no time to think about this because the guards nudged him
to his left, where he saw a table and twelve huge chairs, each made from
different materials, each a different color, each as magnificent as the others.
The big sailor who had killed the shark and rescued him sat on one end
of the table; a thin-faced ascetic type at the other. Between them were four
women and five men, one of them black. One seat was empty. Next to it,
in the very center of the group, sat an old man with flowing white hair. On
his immaculately robed chest hung a stone the size of a man's fist and
shaped like a shield, suspended from a gold chain of large oval links.
Sam's immediate thought was: It's not glowing. Then he blinked and
squinted at it. It couldn't be the same pendant he had found at the bottom
of the ocean, the diamond burning with its own green fire. This was the
same shape and size, but it was as lifeless as chalk.
The big sailor spoke a few sentences, then produced a bag from which
he extracted Sam's Brite-Lite, the jacket of his wet suit, and his wristwatch
depth gauge and compass. Almost as soon as the objects hit the table, the
black man grabbed the flashlight, examined it, then pressed the switch that
turned it on.
The others whispered in amazement, and the big sailor frowned mightily
at Sam. Unconcerned, the black man quickly took the Brite-Lite apart, remov 
ing the batteries and examining them while chattering excitedly. After he
had replaced the components, he exclaimed over the compass and depth

         
gauge. He was reaching for the wet suit when the thin-faced man at the far
end said something in a tone of undisguised contempt that caused the big
sailor to rise from his seat with a snarl. Some others got up, too, and soon
everyone seemed to be shouting at everyone else.
The old man in the center of the table lifted his hands in a feeble gesture
to restore order. He was trying to be heard above the din when the gray 
eyed woman who had stopped the slave line to wipe Sam's face came into
the room.
It quieted immediately. The woman murmured what sounded like a per 
functory apology, then sat down on the empty chair.
 You," Sam whispered. His breath had caught when he saw her, and the
music he had heard, the music he had followed all his life, came back to
him.
She hears it, too. I know she does.
The woman made a point of not looking at him.
Sam forced himself to remember who and where he was. Forget it, Sam.
There is no music. There are no people here. There is only you, Sam, and
you're lying in a hospital bed somewhere with tubes stuck up your nose.
Finally able to be heard, the old man said something and gestured for
the items on the table to be passed down to him. He studied them for a
moment, then looked steadily at the new captive. Sam felt grossly uncomfortable, as if he were being skewered by pins. It was a relief when the old
man finally turned away from him to speak to the gray-eyed woman.
What he said must have shocked her. She looked up at him, startled,
then blushed deeply.
The old man spoke again. This time the woman closed and opened her
eyes slowly, then stood up and walked reluctantly toward Sam. She brought
the music with her, faint but distinct.
Who are you?"
 What did you say?" Sam asked aloud, his voice catching in his throat.
The woman stopped for a moment, her eyes frightened, then ventured
forward again. When she was close to Sam, so close that he could feel the
warmth of her body, she raised her hands to his face. Her touch was like
a kiss.
Don't believe this, he warned himself. She's not real, remember? You've
made her up, all of this, everything . . .
And then the music came, bursting from her mind into his, beautiful,
familiar, forceful as the ocean.
My love, I do know you. I had almost given up hope that you would come . . .
 It was you," he whispered.
A shudder ran through his body.  All these years. You called to me."
My love, how long I have waited . . .
Sam moved forward toward her. Their eyes held for a moment longer,
and then she broke away with a cry.
The guards seized Sam by both arms.
 Please come back," he called, but the woman ran away from him like
a frightened deer.
When the old man spoke again, it was to the guards. Sam was pushed
roughly out of the room.
chapter 5.

THE KING WAITED IN ATHENA'S APARTMENTS, SWIRLING THE WINE IN HIS
glass. If it had been any of his other children, he would have summoned
them to him. And they would not have kept him waiting.
But this was Athena, who would not have exited the council chamber in
so undignified a manner for any but the most urgent reasons. And if she
was late for their meeting now, well, then, even the king of Atlantis would
have to wait for her.
He glanced about at the spare orderliness of her sitting room, a divan,
a table, a small oil lamp. The only adornments were an earthenware pitcher
filled with water and a tapestry of himself on the occasion of his coronation.
It had been woven by Athena's mother, Metis.
Metis, who had once made him believe he could change the world . . .
Athena appeared, pale and trembling."
 Are you ill?" he asked.
 No, Father. Forgive me for leaving as I did. I hope I didn't embarrass
you too badly."
 Did the prisoner do something to you?" he demanded.  Did he touch
you?"
 No. It was nothing like that."
Zeus closed his eyes, trying to be patient.  Then what was the problem?
Were you unable to discern his thoughts? That's not unusual. The mind of
a savage "
 He is not a savage," she said.  Did you see his hands, his fingernails,
his teeth? They were clean and perfect. Even his beard was shaved."
 Yes, that was most peculiar. And his hair. Short as a baby's. I can't
imagine who his people are."
 He came . . . from the sea."
The king laughed.  Clever. He can even lie with his mind. He must have
known you were listening."
 It was more than that." Athena hesitated. The music . . . mostly it was
the music. But she had understood his words. And he had understood hers.
That was the terrifying thing. They were words she never would have
spoken, words she had never even meant to think. But they had come

         
rushing out, just as they had in the wild dreams she had dreamt since her
youth. The same words. The same music.
She stood before the king, her hands clasped in front of her.  Father, he
could hear me," she said softly.
Zeus put down his goblet.  That cannot be," he said. No foreigner had
ever possessed the Power. That had come from the Stranger alone, to his
descendants on Atlantis.  He's simply a well-trained spy, putting on a show
for your benefit."
 Perhaps." She hung her head.
 I want you to see him again."
 No!" She looked around frantically. She did not want the strange prisoner
who could read her thoughts to be in her rooms. She did not want to think
about him.
 Athena, I realize it may be distasteful for you, but it is extremely
important that we learn the purpose of his mission here. This fellow had
some peculiar equipment with him, equipment that even Hephaestus does
not understand. Whatever people he represents are very advanced, more
than any we have ever encountered, perhaps more than we ourselves. They
might even be connected with the earthquakes that are threatening to destroy
us. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
 Yes, Father," she said.  Still, I am not inclined to use something as holy
as the Power to interrogate spies."
 Nor am I. But the man apparently does not speak our language, so even
torture is not likely to work. Besides, I don't want him to die before he can
tell us anything." He gazed angrily into his cup.  Believe me, I am not
happy about asking you to do this. If I could, I would communicate with
him myself, and leave you out of the whole matter." He drank the rest of
the wine hurriedly.
How it must hurt him not to have the Power any longer, Athena thought.
She sat down at his feet.  I'll see him," she said quietly.  Is he in the prison?"
 Gods, no. Hades would have him on the block by sunrise. He's being
kept in the palace. I'll have him brought to you." He rose and pulled her
to her feet.  Thank you, Athena."
She held onto his hands.  Father, perhaps he has no people," she said,
blushing.
 No people? What on earth are you talking about?" he sputtered.  He
must have come from somewhere. Besides the sea, that is."
She almost spoke, then stopped herself. " Of course. He must have."
Zeus kissed the top of her head.  Sometimes you think too much," he
said.
He let himself out. Athena stared after him for a long time.
Coward, she thought. For all my displays of courage, I am yet a coward.
She had meant to tell him, but she had been unable to speak about it.
How could she? How could she tell her father that the strange man with
the clean fingernails had come because she had willed him to?
He had always been her lover, back as far as she could remember. He
had never had a face, but he had a name: Sam. At first, back when Athena
was a child, he had been little more than a pet in her mind, a ghost-boy

whose presence she could feel, if not see, because he brought the music
with him.
It was strange music, unlike anything she had ever heard with her ears.
It only played in her dreams, when she went to him. She could see him
then. He lived in a stout, dark building made of small red blocks. There
were only a few adults in the building, but many children.
She still heard the voices. Oh, that's just Sam the bedbug. He's crazy.
She could sense his sadness.
 Come to me, Sam," she would call to him.  They don't believe you.
They'll never believe you."
Now this is the last straw, Mister Mister Sam Smith. A fire! Didn't you ever
hear about the little boy who cried wolf?
 Hurry, Sam, run. They'll hurt you."
There was a fire, of course. Sam had seen it coming. On the night it
happened, Athena tossed in a terrible fever while she watched the children
run screaming out of the building.
And then Sam was beaten.
Why did you do it, Sam'? What makes you want to burn things'?
 Oh, Sam, please come. I'll take care of you and no one will hurt you
anymore. But you have to leave now. Oh, please, please listen to me!"
And he had left. The music was very strong that night.
When Athena awoke the next morning, her fever was gone. But her Sam
had not come. Nor could Athena reenter his world. She looked in her mind
for the square dark house but could not find it.
Sam had disappeared from her.
He doesn't want me with him anymore, she realized with sadness. /
I frighten him.
He had the power, but he lived in a land where the power meant nothing;
and so he was ashamed of it. He would hide it, try to destroy it. One day,
she feared, he would forget her entirely.
Yet he had heard her once. He had heard the music. So she would wait.
She would wait and listen and one day, perhaps, he would find his way to
her.
The next time she saw him she was sixteen, just beginning to bud into full
womanhood. She was dreaming of the ocean.
This time, he came to her as a lover.
No words were spoken. He came from the sea, wrapped in music. They
had kissed, in his dreams and hers, and he had taken her in his arms and
loved her until they both cried out in passion.
In the morning, finding him gone, Athena wept.
He was never here. It was just a dream. A lonely girl's dream.
She vowed never to allow it to happen again.
And yet it had happened. Again.
And again.
For years she had lain with him as the sweet music sang, loved him
gloriously in the dark part of her dreams and then loathed herself by the
light of day.

She had never married. The Atlantean nobles thought her disdainful. The
commoners idolized her as a paragon of purity.
None knew the real reason. She could never love a mortal man, so long
as the ghost-lover came to her.
Come to me, Sam. I have waited, waited for you . . .
And now, at last, he had come.
But was he the fulfillment of a dream or an evil vision come to life? Had
he been born of her will, or was he one whose power was greater than her
own, greater even than Zeus's, capable of destroying her and everything
she knew?
The knock at her door filled Athena with alarm, but she forced herself to
appear composed when it opened and she confronted the short-haired
prisoner.
 Take off his shackles and leave us alone," she commanded the guard
with him.
 Your Highness, I cannot. If he harms you "
 He is unarmed. Wait on the other side of the door. I will call if I need
you."
Reluctantly, the guard removed the slave's shackles and withdrew.
Sam touched his raw, weeping wrists. Athena motioned for him to follow
her toward a porcelain basin, where she poured cool water over his wounds.
The pitcher she used was plain and utilitarian, decorated by a row of encircled crosses.
 The shard," he said in wonder, taking the pitcher from her.  It was from
this."
She stepped away immediately. Her eyes darted toward the door.
Realizing that she was afraid he would hit her with it, Sam set the pitcher
down.  I'm sorry," he said.  It was just . . . this thing made me think . . ."
He slapped his arms against his sides.  Oh, what the hell. None of this is
happening, anyway."
Slowly, fearfully, she moved back to him. After a moment she picked up
a small clay pot beside the basin and removed its cork stopper. Then she
scooped out some of its oily contents and rubbed the ointment gently over
the injured skin of his wrists. It stung for a moment, but the pain was soon
replaced by a sensation of cool relief, and something more. At the gray 
eyed woman's touch, he heard the music again, flowing into him so strongly
that he moaned.
He feels it, too, he heard her say, although her lips never moved.
 Who are you?" he asked.
/ am Athena.
 Athena," he repeated.
She inhaled sharply. So he does have the Power, she thought. He could
hear her thoughts as clearly as she could hear his.
 What power?"
Athena looked down at her hands encircling his wrists.  We are touching.
That makes it possible for us to communicate through pure thought. Words

like these are not necessary." Sam realized it was the first time she had
spoken aloud to him.
 This gets stranger all the time," he said. But then, why shouldn't it be
strange? Crazy people had crazy ideas.
 There is nothing disturbed about your mind. If there were, I would
perceive it."
 Oh, right. I'm perfectly normal. I just happen to be a mindreader in
Atlantis."
Sam grasped her thought: He does not believe his own senses. And then:
Poseidon might be wrong.
 Poseidon?" The big sailor who fished me out of the water. That's who
she's thinking about.  Poseidon?" he repeated, grinning crookedly.
 Athena? Who's the old guy with the long white beard, Zeus?"
 Then you do know us."
He laughed out loud.
 Why have you come to Atlantis?" Athena demanded, her voice suddenly
strident.
 It wasn't my idea, believe me."
Wasn't it? Nobody made you go to the Peaks.
The woman frowned. She didn't know what the Peaks were.
 I don't know why I came here, or how," Sam answered honestly.  Some 
thing happened to me in the ocean."
Athena closed her eyes as she saw his memories of the underwater place 
the two divers, the shark, a cave in the depths of the sea, glowing with
green light . . .
/ went right through the wall, he thought with wonder.
 That is a lie!" she shouted.  You have come to my country as a spy!"
Sam smiled, astonished.  A what?"
 Even with the Power, you could not have come through a wall!"
There was dead silence between them.  I suppose you're right," he said
at last.  Guess my mind isn't so undisturbed, after all." He smiled sadly.
 You've got to admit, it's pretty bad when even the figments of your imagination complain that you don't make sense. Good old Sam the bedbug."
 Sam1. . . Sam the bedbug," she whispered.
 That's me."
She touched his cheek.  Sam," she repeated.  Your name is Sam."
He was about to speak, but the music came to him again, more intensely,
shooting from her hands into him like sparks of light.
 I called you," she whispered.  From the house filled with children,
where you were blamed for the fire."
Suddenly Sam felt himself trembling.  Don't do this to me."
 You came to me for a long time    at night. . . ."
 Give me a break, okay?" he said harshly.  Just send me back to that
dungeon, or wherever I was, and leave me alone. Before long, they'll pull
the plug and this nightmare will be over. But don't tease me with that. Don't
make me start believing you're real."
She threw back her head in haughty indignation.  You think /am not
real?  It is you whose reality is in question."

Sam made an effort to get his bearings.  Wait a minute. Are you saying
you imagined me?"
 Well, haven't I?" she demanded.  Have you lived any sort of life apart
from my dreams? Do you have any memories?"
 Do I   ." For a moment, an image of Darian and the others on the island
washed over him like a tidal wave. He was safe now, rendered impervious
by his insanity; but they were still waiting. Waiting for the attack that would
snuff out their lives. Waiting for Sam, who would not be able to help them.
 There are others in your thoughts," Athena said with relief.
 Of course there are. A whole world of others . . ." He stared at her.  But
you were in my dreams, too. All my life."
His eyes pricked with tears. Suddenly the music swelled inside him,
whole and perfect, not at all like the distant echoes that had tormented him
whenever he'd passed over the Peaks. The music pulsed with the heartbeat
of the gray-eyed woman whose touch was like sunlight on his face. He put
his arms around her and pulled her close to him.
 Sam," she breathed the moment before their lips met. / have loved you
from the beginning of time.
I, too, he told her with his mind. And I will never leave you.
The music swirled through them and around them, chords from the sea
and the stars. Tears ran down Sam's face into her hair.
His existence here was real, he understood at last in the depth of his
soul. It was all real.
And he had been waiting for it forever.
chapter 6.

HADES HAD LEFT THE COUNCIL MEETING IN A FURY,   HIS ANGER STILL
had not subsided.
 What manner of carnival has the Atlantean royal house become?" he
shouted, tossing a gem-encrusted statue of an ox against the wall. One of
the rubies in the ox's eyes shattered.
Ares laughed. He touched the exquisite golden sculpture with a toe.
 What did you expect, Uncle? You didn't think the king would continue
the meeting without his precious spoiled poppet, did you?"
 Athena's a witch," Hades spat.  You can be sure it was her wheedling
that got that common soldier buried here in the royal tombs."
 The king can never refuse her," Ares said, his mouth twisting bitterly.
 She'd steal the throne from me if she were allowed."
Hades laughed.  Allowed? Do you really think a minor item like the law
is going to stop her from usurping the throne? You're an ass, Ares."
 A woman can't rule!"
Hades shrugged.  No woman ever has. Not yet. But Zeus will do as he
likes, with Athena whispering in his ear all the while."
Ares rose, anger blazing in his eyes,  Then I'll kill her now, with my
bare  
 Oh, sit down." Hades made a weary gesture and plopped down on his
chair, his black robes billowing about him.
Ares really was quite impossibly stupid. Fortunately, intelligence and
good judgment had never been prerequisites for becoming king, and despite
his warning words, Hades believed that Ares would become king at least
in name. The high priest himself would actually rule Atlantis then. As he
did now.
Zeus had publicly named Ares crown prince and heir to the throne when
Ares was four years old. Since the king was unmarried at the time and
refused to name the boy's mother, the announcement had come as a shock
to the council, but eventually they got used to the idea. Zeus had many
bastard sons, they reasoned, and declaring one of them his heir would
prevent a series of bloody civil wars at Zeus's death.
The problem was Athena. Conceived before her mother's banishment,

she might claim, if she had an eye toward the throne, that she was the king's
only legitimate child. But Athena would not fight for the crown. She would
only succeed Zeus at his express command, and Hades would make sure
such a command was never given.
He looked out glumly at the pavement below the death pyramid where
he and the other priests lived. The stones were still stained with blood,
even though they had been scrubbed again and again.
 That slave falling off the altar nearly caused a riot this morning," he
said.
 The gods didn't want Prometheus in their tomb," Ares pouted.  He was
a commoner. And a traitor, besides. His body should be removed."
 Not possible, I'm afraid." Hades sighed.  Poseidon would never permit
it. Nor would the commoners. They love having that smelly old soldier in
the pyramid next to our divine kings."
 Who cares what the commoners think?" Ares sneered.
Hades shook his head, a small movement. The dolt knew nothing. He
would be hopeless as king. Nevertheless, the high priest tried to explain.
 It is what commoners think that creates kings," he said.  And nations. And
gods. Even the heretics" fabled Stranger himself would have been no more
than a stone-age wanderer had he not been able to persuade the common
people of his superiority."
 How could he do that?"
 By accident, probably. He found a peculiar stone, dropped it against
something, and a piece of it flew off, revealing its interior. So he cut it again,
this way and that, until he produced the royal diamond."
 They call it the Eye of Zeus now," Ares said sulkily.  As if it'll be buried
with him."
Hades ignored him.  Or he found a tree burning after a lightning storm
and brought back a branch to amaze the people with his  invention" of fire.
It doesn't matter what he did. It's how he did it. Common people are always
looking for an uncommon man. It was how your father took the crown from
Cronus."
 He said he had to do that."
Hades smiled.  Dear boy, no one has to become king. Not while there's
already a king on the throne." His tight smile faded.  And not when one
is the youngest of three sons. No, Ares, Zeus saw his chance and took it.
And the crowd of common men cheered him on."
Hades remembered it all as if it had just happened, beginning with the
terrible shattering moment in which he found himself not the heir to the
throne but a prisoner condemned to death, and ending with the coronation
of his youngest brother as king.
Zeus had never been meant to rule. He had been little more than a child
when the unspeakable events had come to pass. Nor was Poseidon a threat.
He would never have entertained the idea of leaving his precious ships to
grapple with problems like irrigation or land disputes.
Of the three brothers, there was only Hades, Hades with the best mind
and a devotion to duty unmatched by even his father, King Cronus himself;

Hades, who kept accounts and watched over the too-trusted nobles who
gladly would have robbed every coin in the treasury; Hades who, alone
among the old king's sons, paid true homage to the gods, studying the
ancient texts, forcing himself to sit at the feet of Hecate, high priestess of
the heretic goddess worshippers, so that he might learn the secrets of the
enemies of the king-gods.
Hades had devoted his life in preparation to wear the diamond amulet
of Atlantis's kings. And so he would have, were it not for Hecate.
Because though Hades had never been her disciple, he had become her
lover.
He was twenty. He had dutifully married his cousin Persephone, whom
he found willful and hysterical. Within the first six months of the marriage,
Hades had sent her back to her mother. Now she only visited Atlantis
occasionally for the sake of appearances, remaining alone with her servants
in a remote part of the old palace. The arrangement suited Hades. Their
obligation to one another had been completed: She would one day be
queen, and she was pregnant. If she bore a son to succeed him, Hades
would never have to touch her again.
Because for his pleasure, there was Hecate. Nearly twice his age, she
knew everything about the arts of love. She awakened his senses in a way
that the bloodless Persephone could never have imagined. There were no
boundaries; nothing was forbidden. She would make ferocious love to him
one moment, then caress him with the tenderness of a spring breeze the
next. She teased him with her hands and mouth until he begged for release
and then she gave it to him, taking her own pleasure with him.
 If you so despise the Atlantean kings, then why have you taken me to
your bed?" he asked, lying shining with sweat in Hecate's arms. It was no
secret that the priestesses hated the  new" religion and its cult of royal
ancestor worship.  I will be the next king after my father Cronus. And after
I die, I too will become a god."
She laughed softly.  After you die, I will no longer desire your body, my
puppy."
She had always made him feel small. If it were not for her sexual skill,
he would not bother with her.  Old cow," he muttered.  You're as corrupt
as your religion. Our priests are celibate."
 Then they know nothing of what it is to be human." She smiled and
traced a line down his belly with her slender finger. His passion rose again,
immediately, urgently.  This is why we have incarnated into flesh," she
said, rubbing her breasts against him.  To experience the senses, and all
the pleasure they bring. To feel love as only the body can feel. To know
life by touching it."
He turned his face from hers.  That is the sophistry of a whore." He
wished his erection would go away.  And no one still worships your fat 
teated old statue anymore."
Hades felt a small triumph when she winced at his words.  It is not the
statues we worship, princeling, but the Earth herself. And those like you
are killing her."

 The Earth is not a woman." He rose up onto one elbow.  It is an object.
It can't die."
Hecate rose from the bed and walked naked to a window.  You know
nothing, young adder." she said quietly.  Gaea is dying now. The earth 
quakes are the shudders of her body as she falls toward the void."
 Superstitions," Hades said.  If it will ease your mind, the tremors mean
nothing. I have consulted a number of scientists, and they are in agreement "
 Atlantis will perish!" Hecate spoke with a voice like a sword on stone. The
light from the window bathed her naked limbs in yellow light.  The kings of
your family have forced the people to worship them and their dead ancestors
instead of the Earth spirit," she said.  It is a sacrilege the Stranger would never
have permitted. But his sons knew nothing of the Power. They saw how their
father was revered, and desired that reverence for themselves. And so first they
set themselves up as kings, and then in later generations, as gods, though there
has not been an Atlantean king fit to rule for a thousand years."
 I shall be fit to rule," Hades said coldly.
 You shall never be king."
Hades threw off the silken coverlet that covered him.  How dare you "
 Zeus will take the Eye for himself." She spoke with a distant look in her dark
eyes, as she did when the Power had command of her. It was very strong in
Hecate, as it was in all those chosen to be high priestess.  He will seize it by
force."
Hades felt as if he were frozen in a block of ice.  What are you saying?" he
whispered.
 It will be Zeus. I have seen him in my visions. He will be the first king of
Atlantis to possess the Power since the Stranger." A shudder ran through Hecate's
body.  And he will use it to destroy us."
Hades felt his mouth go dry.  You must tell my father," he said at last.
 The king must know what you've seen."
She laughed.  Do you think for a moment that Cronus, that ungodly
beast, would attend my prophecies?" she asked savagely.  He has said
publicly that he does not believe the Power exists, that those in possession
of it are mad, and that I and my priestesses are frauds whom he tolerates
only to appease the peasants." She wiped her mouth as if the taste of the
words she spoke carried an unbearable bitterness.  No, he will not listen
to me."
He rose from the bed.  Then I'll tell him."
She sniffed haughtily.  Tell him what? That his favorite son will depose
him? He will never believe you, Hades."
 But something has to be done!" he shouted.  Surely you don't think I'll
just stand by and allow my younger brother to take the throne from me."
Hecate did not answer.
 What must I do? Tell me, priestess. I command you!"
She narrowed her eyes.  It is not easy to change the course of things to
come," she said.  The price will be high."
 Tell me what I must do!"
She walked behind him and whispered in his ear.  Kill your father."

Suddenly the room went so silent that Hades could hear his own heart
beating.  You don't know what you're saying," he gasped.
 I told you the price would be high. You must kill the king in his bed,
and then kill Zeus. It is the only way you will rule."
 But the gods "
 Your gods cannot help you," she scoffed.  Zeus will be your last king.
Unless you stop him."
Hades felt his jaw clenching. He had always feared some treachery from
his father and youngest brother. Zeus was a big, strapping, genial boy with
a natural talent for leadership, and the king openly favored him. While
Hades labored to learn the difficult and time-consuming tasks of a chief
administrator, Cronus had appointed the eighteen-year-old Zeus as deputy
to the land forces commander in charge of military training. It did not take
a prophetess to realize that Zeus was a threat to him. His only surprise was
that he had not seen it sooner.
 I will kill them," he said.
Silently Hecate prayed to Gaea, asking the Earth's spirit's forgiveness.
Zeus was to be the instrument of destiny, she knew: Her visions of what
was to come told her that. Atlantis was meant to perish at the king's hand.
But she could not bear those visions. If Hades, in his hunger for the
crown, could avert fate, the land she loved might not be doomed to disappear
into the sea forever.
 Perhaps it is possible to halt the inevitable," she murmured.
Hades fixed her with eyes of flint.  We create our destiny," he said.  I
will be king."
Mow he had believed that!
His belief had given Hades the courage to steal into King Cronus's bed 
chamber that night. It had dispelled the wave of shame and fear that washed
over Hades as he watched the old man sleeping. It had enabled him to pull
the dagger from his belt and hold it high above his father.
I will be king.
He had believed it until his father's eyes opened suddenly and his great
hairy arm thrust upward, grasping Hades's wrist.
 What have you done?" the old man rasped. His eyes, newly wakened
from sleep, seemed big as dinner plates.
Hades whimpered and trembled. It was an effort to control his bowels.
 It was to be   . a sacrifice," he answered in a small voice.  It was . . ."
But he could not go on. No explanation would be enough.
He left with a guard, who was later killed for his negligence. After Hades
confessed, Hecate was killed also, along with all her priestesses. Their
temple was burned. A sacrifice was prepared in the name of the true gods,
the dead ancestors of King Cronus. A great sacrifice, the heralds cried, a
sacrifice to end the earthquakes forever.
Hades, heir and eldest son of the king, was to have his living heart taken
from him in a holy ceremony the following day. His father, Cronus, would
wield the knife himself.
All the preparations were made. A special scaffolding constructed for the

purpose of supporting Hades's body was placed over a stone which had
been prayed over by the priests of the king-gods. All the soldiers in Atlantis
gathered around it. Prometheus, who had charge of the King's Guard, kept
the awestruck populace at a distance.
A royal sacrifice! Nothing like it had been performed for a hundred years.
The crowd of onlookers stretched for miles.
Cronus stood atop the platform, the knife in his hands raised high. Beside
him stood his two sons, Zeus and Poseidon, called to witness the execution
of their brother.
As Hades climbed the scaffold, he sobbed in terror.  Help me, Zeus!" he
called out.  You have the Power. Use it! I am of your own blood! Use it to
help me now, I beg you!"
Zeus stood trembling.
 Do not let him kill your brother!"
Poseidon laid a hand on Zeus's arm, but it was too late. The Power was
already crackling from Zeus's fingers like bolts of lightning. His man-child's
eyes burned with it. A bright glow surrounded his entire body.
 You will not take my brother's life!" he shouted as the Power emanated
from him in visible waves. A nearby tree suddenly burst into flame. The sky
darkened in the span of less than a minute, and winds blew like the breath
of death itself, sending sparks from the blaze swirling around the gathered
army.
The commoners who had come to witness the sacrifice screamed in terror.
 He is the Stranger returned!" someone cried.
 The boy carries the wrath of all the gods within him!"
Thousands broke through the ranks of soldiers to swarm over the scaffold.
Someone snatched the great diamond from Cronus and placed it around Zeus's
neck, where it glowed with a pulsating, unearthly light. At the sight of the living
stone, the people backed away in awe. Hades descended the scaffold gratefully,
followed by Poseidon and then Cronus himself, his shoulders hunched like an
old man's. Above them all, Zeus stood alone in his own blazing light.
Prometheus knelt to him. He was the first, Then the others, soldiers, commoners, nobles, even the old king, fell to the bare ground in homage. Only Hades
remained standing, looking about him in horror. His life had been saved, but he
had lost the throne.
And Hecate's prophecy was coming true.
 It can't   . it can't . . ." he whispered. Then someone grabbed the robe he
wore and yanked him to the ground. A pebble cut his face. He smelled the dirt
in his nostrils.
There was a new king.
Uncle."
Hades looked up to see Ares's handsome, belligerent face frowning at
him.  What is it?" he asked irritably.
 Have you been listening to a word I've said?"
Hades swallowed drily, brushing back his hair with a bony hand.  No,
I haven't."

Ares sighed.  I said that the foreign slave who made Athena act so crazy
is still in the palace."
 Why would he be kept in the palace? The man's obviously a spy."
Ares shrugged.  Maybe he's got something Athena wants." He smiled
lewdly. Hades waved a hand at him in disgust.  Well, maybe they grow
them big where he comes from," Ares went on, laughing.  Two women
slaves bathed him. They didn't seem disappointed."
 You've talked with the servants?"
 I've heard them talking. They're all excited."
 What do they say about the slave?"
 Everything. Some think he's a spy, some say he's a lunatic. I heard a
couple of them whispering that he's the Stranger himself, come back to
make things right again." He snorted a chuckle through his nose.  If you
ask me, they don't have enough to do around here."
 The Stranger," Hades said thoughtfully.
The earthquakes were tearing at the very core of the Atlantean people.
Now they were grasping at straws, willing to believe anyone who promised
an end to the ever-worsening tremors. In their fear, they might even go
back to the old religion, with some foolish outlander as its centerpiece.
 Leave me," Hades snapped.  I have to find a way to rectify today's
debacle."
 Why not have another sacrifice? A big one. That'll make people forget
the omen."
Hades looked up.  Another sacrifice . . ."
 I'll lead the expedition to collect the slaves," Ares offered.
The high priest considered. A great sacrifice, a spectacle unlike anything
ever seen before.  Perhaps you're right," he said slowly.
Sacrifice, Hades thought after Ares had left. Sacrifice was the key to con 
taining the people's panic over the earthquakes.
They had come by the thousands to see Hades sacrificed by his own
father, he remembered bitterly. Even after their king had been deposed and
the throne seized by an upstart child with a freakish bent for destruction,
they had turned not on Zeus, but on Hades.
Sacrifice! they had demanded of their new godlike king. They wanted to
see blood spilled. Hades had sweated in the priests" temple, where he had
fled to find sanctuary, as the mob surrounded it, demanding his blood.
Finally Zeus had satisfied them by ordering a foreign slave to be ritually
killed in his place.
The earthquakes stopped for a time after that. Hades was exonerated.
The people were exultant.
Only Zeus suffered.
 This is wrong, so wrong," he lamented after the sacrifice had been
performed.
 It was a slave's life for your brother's," Hades reasoned, offended that
Zeus would even consider the alternative.  Let me remind you that I am a
royal prince of Atlantis."
 Who tried to kill our father in his sleep."

Hades turned away.
 I will have no more to do with this barbaric murder," Zeus said.  From
now on, if you require that another die in your stead, ask the priests to
help you."
With that, he had given over the first piece of his authority to Hades.
The sacrifices continued. The priests of the king-gods knew what power
they held over the people.
By the time Hades became high priest, the rabble had forgotten all about
King Cronus's intention to offer him up on the block. His first act as the
spiritual leader of Atlantis was to perform a massive sacrifice of twenty
slaves.
The people celebrated for days.
Yes, sacrifice, Hades thought. He would give them a sacrifice they would
never forget.
Until the next earthquake.
chapter 7.

HADES STOOD NEAR THE LARGE WINDOW IN THE KING'S PRIVATE CHAMBER.
The morning sun glared all around him so that the priest's elongated frame
in its black robes looked like some sort of unearthly spider.
 A monumental sacrifice," he said.  It is the only way to silence the
people's fear."
Zeus sighed.  Perhaps their fear is justified."
Hades sniffed.  Of course it is. The gods detest you."
The king turned away.
 Do you expect me to continue to hold my tongue in the face of certain
disaster?" Hades said hotly.  It was bad enough that you married a heretic.
But when you allowed her to defile the very walls of the royal palace with
the words of her false god "
 Spare me your sactimony, brother," Zeus said.  I gave up my wife for
your religion, in order to keep peace in Atlantis. I will not have every
memory of Metis blotted out."
 The words inscribed on the palace are an insult to the gods," Hades
muttered stolidly.  That is why our ancestors will not save us from the
earthquakes."
 Nothing will save us!" the king shouted.  Your sacrifices are a worthless
farce, performed as a bloodthirsty entertainment for the vile mob my people
have become!"
 They would not be worthless if you would have the Stranger's words
removed.   ."
 I command you to be silent!"
Zeus paced before the long horizontal window in his private quarters.
From the outside, the palace pyramid looked like four identical triangles
of gleaming alabaster, its smooth surfaces marred only by a gigantic recessed
door and the balcony where the royal family stood on ceremonial occasions.
Part of the genius of Hephaestus's design was that these same surfaces were
made, in fact, mostly of glass, opaque and undetectable from the outside.
The stone and mortar which held the structures together were on the inside,
radiating from their metal cores.  If it were not for Metis, this palace 
which you say she  defiled" would not even exist," the king said quietly.

Hades tossed his head in disdain. It was true that the former queen was
the first to spot Hephaestus's uncanny ability to build. Metis had convinced
Zeus to have the pyramid constructed, despite the protests of Hades and
others who complained that the design was bizarre. After it was built, how 
ever, and Hades saw for himself how light and airy was its interior, how
elegant its curving stairways, he demanded a similar edifice be built as a
temple to the gods in the Land of the Dead.
Metis had been angry about that. She had intended for the magnificent
palace pyramid to be a tribute to Zeus, whom she fervently believed to be
the living incarnation of the Stranger, the being at the center of her religion.
To have a duplicate of the structure used in the service of the blood-swilling
king-gods was repugnant to her.
She responded by ordering the dying words of the Stranger to be carved
above the doorway of the great palace pyramid.
 With a stranger will it begin again," she told Hades defiantly.  And it
has. My husband Zeus has come with the Stranger's power to begin a new
Atlantis, free from the filth of its corrupt kings . . . and their priests."
Hades hated Metis. He knew that as a young girl before the temple of
the goddess had been destroyed, she had studied with the priestesses there.
She resolutely had refused to turn away from the ancient practice of goddess
worship, even after her marriage to the king. Metis openly despised the
idea of human sacrifice, and refused even to keep slaves. But Zeus had
always stood by her odd ways, no matter how the priests grumbled; and
when he found that Metis was to bear him a child, the king's adoration for
her knew no bounds.
As soon as he heard about the queen's pregnancy, Hades had gone to
the council, composed of the twelve family members charged with oversee 
ing the king's rule.  With a stranger shall it begin again," Hades quoted to
the council.  Heresy, inscribed in stone to mock the gods," he spat.  She
is a witch, I tell you, and she will not stop until one of her own sits on the
throne in place of the rightful king a demon brought forth from her own
belly!"
The council members considered.
 But the king already has an heir," Zeus's sister Demeter said.  Ares
has been recognized publicly as crown prince. The queen agreed to his
succession before her marriage."
 Princes have been deposed before," he argued.  And so have kings."
He had hoped to shame the council members with that. There was not
a one among them who did not remember how Zeus had ascended to the
throne.
Demeter cleared her throat.  No decision will be made as yet," she said,
to the relief of the council.  We shall wait to see further evidence of the
queen's wrongdoing."
They did not have to wait long. Within the week, an earthquake of a
magnitude never before experienced in Atlantis took place. The country
was still reeling from its effects when Hades approached the council again.
 Did I not tell you the gods would be displeased?" he accused.  This is

a warning to us all. The sorceress known to you as Queen Metis has plotted
with her evil goddess to destroy both our religion and our monarchy. Unless
she is cast out, her child will kill Crown Prince Ares and seize the throne
of Atlantis." He let his gaze rest on each member of the council in turn.
 The gods have spoken."
There was a hollow silence in the council chamber as the members
regarded one another nervously. Zeus himself had seized the crown from
his father and stolen his older brother's birthright. What would stop Metis's
unborn son from doing the same?
Besides, they all reasoned silently, it would be convenient to have some 
one to blame for the earthquake.
The council demanded that the queen be banished. In the span of ten
days, Metis and the child in her belly were gone.
The commoners rejoiced. The evil in their midst had been eradicated.
To appease the true gods, a sacrifice of fifty slaves took place, to the wild
cheers of thousands.
Inside the palace, Zeus sat like a statue day and night for weeks. For his
country, he had sent away the only woman he had ever loved.
A year after his daughter Athena was born in exile, another earthquake
shook Olympus and several other cities along the coast. Six months after
that, there was another. And another. All the sacrifices Hades offered had
no effect on them.
The Power which had once burned inside Zeus diminished quickly after
that. The council ruled him, and Hades ruled the council; and Zeus did not
particularly care.
 Those words on this pyramid were the symbol of Metis's faith in me,"
the King said quietly now, oblivious that Hades was still in the chamber
with him.  They are all that is left of what I once was. Or may have been."
 What are you saying?" Hades snapped irritably.
 Nothing. Just the ramblings of an old man. How many ships will you
need?"
 Twelve, each with a full crew and fifty fighting men."
 Take them. Collect your slaves. Make your sacrifices," the king said.
 Just go, away."
Hades smiled.  As you command, Majesty."
When the guards opened the door for him, Athena was waiting on the
other side. With her was the foreign spy who had been fished out of the
sea.
 Good evening, Uncle," Athena said, bowing quickly to the high priest
as she entered. Ignoring the king's dismissal of him, Hades followed her
back into the room. Sam tried to enter as well, but the guards stationed at
the door held him back at spearpoint.
 Let him pass," Athena demanded.
 Have we completely lost our senses here?" Hades shrilled.  Majesty, the
princess is attempting to bring an enemy spy into your private chambers!"
 He is no spy, father, and no enemy to us."
Zeus looked at the short-haired savage appraisingly 
                                             
 I have learned a great deal about him, and his story is quite extraordinary," she said.
Hades sighed impatiently.  You mean he has told you his lies." Zeus
responded with a look of irritation, but Hades went on doggedly.  This
man is undoubtedly trained to dissemble. He would have no difficulty convincing an innocent girl "
 He doesn't speak the language," the king said.  Let him enter."
Hades uttered a sound of disgust as Sam was brought forward.
 He has the Power, father," she said quietly.  There is no doubt."
The king said nothing. Hades's eyes narrowed into slits.  Prove it."
Athena thought for a moment, then took the barbarian's hand in her own.
 Very well. Ask him a question. He will give me the answer telepathically,
and I will tell you in turn."
Hades laughed.  That should afford a fine demonstration of your imagination."
She colored.  I would not lie, Uncle."
The corners of Hades's mouth twitched.  If your barbarian indeed possesses the gift you claim, have him read another's thoughts besides your
own. Mine, for example."
 Or mine," Zeus said.
 My brother, you are the king," Hades said, looking shocked.  This may
all be a hoax to bring the spy close enough to you for assassination."
 With my daughter as his accomplice?" Zeus asked, his voice tight.  Is
that what you're saying?"
Hades's face was impassive.  It is possible," he said.
The king's eyes burned with fury.  At one time you convinced everyone
that Metis's child would overthrow me," he said in a harsh whisper.  Every 
one except me." He rose from his seat and walked forward.  Well, here is
her chance. Come, Athena. Bring your savage."
 Majesty "
Zeus cut him off with a gesture. Roughly he grabbed Sam's hands and
placed them on his own chest, over his heart.  Prove your innocence,
stranger. And my daughter's."
For a moment Sam was lost. He was frightened, frozen, aware that his
failure would result in his death, and possibly Athena's as well.
// began with a stranger. . . .
Sam felt his eyes roll back in his head. He saw a barren landscape, sere
and brown, its scrawny trees bent low like grasses in the high wind. Great
chasms crisscrossed the parched earth. There was no water, though the
ocean still surrounded the lifeless island. Along the sandy shore, the bones
of men, picked clean by birds, shone in the relentless sun.
This is the fate I have seen for my land. Will it come through the gods'
hands? Or through yours?
The sadness pouring into Sam from the old man's mind was like a liquid
of tremendous, unbearable weight; and the worst of it was that he knew
the king had lived with it for most of his life. He wanted to move his hands
away, run from the suddenly oppressive room into the light and air, leave
this troubled being with the tragic vision which he carried around his heart
like a chain.
Sweat beaded on Sam's forehead.  How can you live with this?" he
whispered.
If there were someone to rule after me, I would gladly take my life to be
again with my beloved Metis. But 
Suddenly his eyes locked with Sam's.
 It cannot be," Zeus said aloud.  I have not possessed the Power in a
quarter century.    The diamond on his chest was glowing faintly.
 It's the same stone," Sam said. He touched it with the tip of his finger.
For a moment it blazed a brilliant green.
 What do you know of this stone?" Zeus demanded.
 I found it. Under the sea." He opened his mind to the king and felt him
probing, unsure at first, then more strongly, coursing through his thoughts,
his memories. The stone's color deepened and radiated, pulsing with the
old king's heartbeat like a strobe as he explored every corner of Sam's
consciousness with a brutal intelligence.
The king felt his breath catch as the foreigner's mind poured into his
own. Such memories! Automobiles and airplanes and telephones, films,
television, printing, cameras, computers, submarines, radio telescopes,
space vehicles, men walking upon the surface of the moon.
The savage came from the western mainland, but it was called Florida.
There was a sailor named Darian who lived there, and a woman physician
who treated the mind as the ancient priestesses of Atlantis had. There was
a young girl with Apollo's bright hair and his gift for healing as well as
Artemis's affinity for animals. A man as black as Hephaestus swam at the
bottom of the sea searching for his friend who had passed through a grotto
and disappeared from his world. An old crone with eyes very like Zeus's
own mother Rhea cooked on a battered stove outdoors on a desolate island
in the middle of the vast ocean waters.
They were all there, on that island so far from the wonders of his civilization; and the foreigner was afraid for them all. They were in danger. They
had little chance of escape from what awaited them on that parched and
terrible island of death where, years hence, their bones would dry unnoticed
in the sun. . . .
Zeus gasped.  The place of my vision," he said hoarsely.  Atlantis . . ."
 No," Sam said, still envisioning the bones of his friends on the empty
beach.  That's Memory Island."
 They are the same," the king whispered.
 Memory Island and . . . Atlantis?" He tried to grasp the implications of
this possibility.  Then the stone didn't come from a different place . . ."
 But a different time." Zeus closed his eyes in despair.  The Eye of Zeus
lay on the bottom of the sea because I and all my descendants had been
dead for countless millennia." He looked up into Sam's eyes.  We come
from the same land, my friend, I in my time, and you in yours. And we are
doomed to the same fate."
He lifted his hands from the foreigner's and recoiled away. He no longer
wished to know what was in this stranger's mind."
Wait a minute," Sam offered, rushing toward the old man to make contact
again. The guards pounced on him. They knocked him to the floor, the tips
of their spears pressing against his throat.
 Kill the barbarian," Hades ordered.
 No. He means me no harm. Let him come."
Sam stepped forward. The king extended his hand once again and placed
it over Sam's.  We both have seen the course of things to come," Zeus said
wearily.  There is little more to be said."
 But maybe we can do something. Something to help us both."
The king arched an eyebrow.  Such as?"
 Such as evacuating this place."
The king scowled.  Leave Atlantis? Are you mad?"
 Maybe. But I ought to tell you that in my time, people who have what
you call the Power are being killed. That's why those friends of mine you
saw are in such trouble. There aren't many of us, and I think that's because
most of you Atlanteans died here. But it doesn't have to be that way."
The king's expression softened.  Go on."
 If you managed to get your people out of here all of them they'd
pass on these genes you have to the whole world. By the twentieth century,
everyone on Earth will be able to do what you and I are doing right now,
and more. Your people would live, and so would mine. And as corny as it
sounds, the world would probably be a lot better off than it is."
Zeus considered.  But to leave Atlantis   . is there no alternative?"
 Not unless you can come up with a way to stop earthquakes."
The king's grip on his hand tightened.
 I wasn't serious, Zeus. No one can stop an earthquake. Not even in my
time."
 The people of your time have not been faced with annihilation."
 But I don't know anything. I'm a sailor, not an engineer  "
 We have engineers. My son Hephaestus will build you whatever you
need."
Sam looked helplessly at Athena, then back at the king.  Your Highness,
I'm trying to tell you "
 Find a way," Zeus commanded.  Or you will die with the rest of us."
He pushed Sam's hands away, then signaled for a guard to take him outside.
Athena and Hades both rushed to the king.  Father, what happened?" she
asked.  What did you see?"
 Unbelievable things. He comes from a time so remote that Atlantis is
no more than a rumor to his people. A time where ships fly in the air and
events are captured in lighted boxes that can show what has occurred again
and again, and people ride in carts that move by themselves. . . ."
The high priest's eyebrows raised.  Did you say his time?"
The king nodded slowly.
 And you believed him? By the gods, you've both been taken in by a
common spy!"
 He is not a spy." Zeus stared at the door behind which  Sam stood.
 He is only a stranger, like the last Stranger unable to return home, and
doomed to live out his life with savages." The king laughed softly.
 This is preposterous," the high priest said.  Athena, call your father's
attendants. He must be taken to bed."
 I don't need to go to bed. This is the first beam of hope I've felt in
decades."
Athena looked at him quizzically.
 Don't you see? He comes from the far distant future a future filled with
machinery. You saw for yourself the tools he carried in the sea. He has
been sent to us, by what gods I cannot know, but he has been sent as our
deliverance."
 The earthquakes . . ." Athena said, her voice hushed.  Could it be?"
 No, it cannot!" Hades shouted.  The gods would not send a barbarian "
 Perhaps it was a different god," Athena spat.  Or goddess."
Hades's eyes widened in rage.
 She brought the Stranger the last time."
 Enough," Zeus said.
 Majesty, how can you take seriously the empty promise of an enemy
savage who says he can stop earthquakes?" Hades demanded.
 It is not he who says it," the king said.  It is I."
 I see. Then he promises nothing."
 He suggests that we evacuate Atlantis."
 Gods above," Hades sputtered.  I will not remain to hear this."
The king laughed.  Then go, brother. Perhaps, for once, we shall not
need your slaughters to appease the people."
 I hope you are right," Hades said.  Nevertheless, I shall go ahead with
our plans." He bowed perfunctorily, then swept out of the room, his black
robes billowing behind him.
Zeus sighed with satisfaction.  This is the first time I've felt like a king
since   ." He blinked.  Your mother believed that it was possible to change
the course of things to come," he said.  The priestesses taught her that."
 Yes, I know."
 When she left, I was given one last vision before the Power vanished
in me. It was an image of Atlantis as it would be in the future. A terrible
image of a lifeless place sucked dry by the earthquakes and our vain efforts
to stop them. It so frightened me that I never summoned the Power again
afterward, though I have lived with this vision for all the years of my life
since then. But now, at last  ." He patted her hand.  Tell Hephaestus that
he is released from all other duties so that he can assist this fellow what's
his name, by the way?"
 Sam."
 Sam?" He grimaced.  Sounds like a dog's name."
 His people use two names. His other is Nowar."
 Well, that's a little better, at least." He laughed.  Tell Nowar he must
work quickly. Hades is mounting another slave expedition."
 Father "
 There's nothing to be done about that."
 You mean Sam's that is, Nowar's idea may not work."
 The idea is mine, not his." Zeus smiled at her sadly.  And yes, for all
our dreams, it may not work." He patted her hand.  Now go. I am tired,
and I wish to spend some time remembering before I sleep."
 Remembering, Father?"
He fingered the diamond suspended on his chest. Its unearthly fire had
vanished.  Remembering that, for a little time, I felt the Power rise within
me once again."
She kissed the top of his head.  And how did you feel?"
The old king's hands trembled.  Like a god."
Sent to deliver us," Hades muttered as he strode across the plaza toward
the canal. The king was an even bigger fool than he had thought.
A stranger, like the last . . .
He turned back to face the palace. On its wall, the Stranger's words
sparkled in the sun, mocking him.
The barbarian possessed the Power. At least Zeus believed he did. That
made the savage a dangerous enemy. If he convinced the king that he was
the Stranger come back, he might well seize the throne when the time came.
Hades could not chance leaving Zeus alone with the foreigner. He would
send Ares alone on the slaving foray while he himself stayed. And watched.
And prayed for an earthquake.
With a stranger shall it begin again.
 We'll see," he said, turning his back on the pyramid.


chapter 8.


THEY STOPPED AT THE STABLES WHERE THE cows SURROUNDING THE BARNS
made a terrible din as they trampled the earth to mud. An old man with a
scraggly gray beard ran after them, calling frantically.
 That is Issa, who cares for the palace livestock," Athena said.  He has
worked on the palace grounds since he was a child. My mother gave him
his freedom, but his citizenship was revoked after her banishment."
She stared after the old man for a moment, her eyes full of sadness, then
directed Sam's attention to two younger men who stood examining some
sort of metal scoop, oblivious to the chaos around them.
Sam recognized one of them. He was the black man who had taken apart
his flashlight and compass. The other was young and huge, with the physique
of a bodybuilder.
 This? How can I use this?" the big one was saying, shaking the metal
scoop in his hand.
 There are two hundred other identical parts," the black man said.  They
all fit together in any configuration we need. I made them to build a flume
to carry rainwater into the third canal."
 Can you understand what they're saying?" Athena asked.
Sam nodded.  As long as you're touching me."
 Good. In time, you'll know our language on your own. Until then, I'll
stay with you."
 Good morning, Athena," the black man said heartily, walking toward
them. He moved, Sam saw, with a pronounced limp.
 Hephaestus, brother, this is Sam Nowar. He is a guest of mine and
Father's."
The black man bowed deeply.  I am honored, Excellency," he said.
 Sam'll be fine. You were in the throne room yesterday when my things
were passed around."
 I'm afraid I've rendered them quite useless," Hephaestus said, embarrassed.  I took them apart, then lacked the materials to put them back
together again. But if you show me how, I'll try to make you new ones."
Sam smiled. Sure, just whip up a flashlight and compass. Maybe a diesel
engine too, while you're at it.  Okay, thanks."
 Your easy ways are refreshing," the black man said, not without humor.
 Most visitors regard us with a begrudging sort of awe. What land are you
from . . . Sam?" He looked as if he were suppressing a smile at the name.
Athena broke in hurriedly.  It's quite far," she said.  Hephaestus, the
king has ordered Sam to invent a device to stop the earthquakes and directs
you to help him. All your other duties are to be suspended."
Hephaestus's eyebrows shot up.  Stop the earthquakes?"
 Wait a minute," the burly young man with him interjected.  What about
me? Hephaestus was going to help me muck out these stinking stables."
 Be quiet, Hercules. This matter is more important than the stables."
Athena said.
 That's easy for you to say. Hera's not having you shovel dung till you
drop."
 She would if she could," Athena said.
 Hercules?" Sam looked over the man's handsome features and glistening
muscles.  Did you say his name's Hercules?"
 Yes," Athena snapped.  And I'm afraid he'll have to clean the stables
alone."
 Sister," Hephaestus said,  I will be only a few minutes more. Have a
little pity on the lad."
Athena sighed. It was no secret that her father's wife detested Hercules
even more than his other illegitimate children, perhaps because the boy's
peasant-born mother had been more beautiful than Hera herself. The queen
thought about things like that. It was one of the reasons Athena had no
time for her.
 All right," she said.  We'll wait until you're finished. But don't take too
long." She led Sam away from the stable toward a fence, beyond which
was a moat and what appeared to be a large park. Inside the enclosure
roamed a number of exotic animals, tigers and leopards, wolves and bears.
 This is my uncle Poseidon's collection of animals brought back from
his journeys," she said.  They're tame. Issa treats them like his children."
She waved to the old slave, who had spotted them and was loping toward
them, a look of grim determination on his face.  Are you in safety, Princess?"
he panted as he approached, eyeing Sam suspiciously.  Lord Poseidon says
I must never let harm come to you."
 I'm fine, Issa. Thank you."
 I'm a foreigner myself, and a slave, but your mother was good to me."
 I know."
Sam extended his hand.  I won't hurt the Princess, I promise," he said,
forgetting that the old man could not understand him.
Issa examined the stranger's clipped fingernails from a distance, then
reluctantly lay his own dirt-encrusted palm on top of it and looked away,
wincing.
 He thinks you're going to punish him for insulting you," Athena whispered.
Sam shook Issa's hand.  Sam Nowar," he said as the zookeeper quickly
withdrew his hand.
 Nowar?"
 Right. Sam Nowar." He pointed to himself for emphasis.
 Nowar," the old man repeated.
  Sam" is rather an unusual name, even for a foreigner," Athena said
delicately.
An enormous clatter rose up behind a nearby hill, sending the cows
scurrying again. Issa bowed quickly in apology and ran off after them as
the source of the racket appeared over the rise. It was a cart drawn by two
oxen, loaded with fat metal pipes that clanked with each bump. Accompanying it was a score of men on foot.
 Those are workers from Hephaestus's forge," Athena explained.  I can't
imagine what he wants with them." They wandered back toward the stables.
At a word from Hephaestus, the men unloaded the cart and began fitting
the pipes and elbows together. In surprisingly little time, all the pieces had
been joined in an elaborately looped and twisted line.
Hephaestus barked some last orders at the men, then came to stand with
Athena and Sam.
 Very impressive," Sam said.  What is it?"
The black man laughed.  It's a flume. It will bring the water down from
the mountain's river into the stables. In the front and out the back, and the
dung will be gone with it. Hercules will never have to clean the stable
again."
 Pretty neat, if it works," Sam said.
 It will work," Hephaestus answered.  My gift is meager but consistent."
He limped off toward one of the constructions.
 Don't believe him," Athena said.  Hephaestus is a master builder. Architects say that a talent like his hasn't existed for a thousand years."
The various groups were assembling their metal loops and slides into
one enormous whole stretching from the stables uphill to the small mountain
river. During the worst of it, Poseidon came galloping up, his white stallion
snorting.
 What the devil's going on here?" he shouted over the din.
Sam didn't hear Hephaestus's reply, but the old sailor laughed when he
heard it, then yanked the black man up onto the horse behind him and
galloped off.
 Poseidon isn't overly fond of Hera, either," Athena said.
 Hera? Oh, right. She's the one who's picking on Hercules."
 My father's second wife," she explained.  Six months ago, she ordered
Issa to stop cleaning out the cow barn. Hercules was stupid enough to boast
that he'd been invited along on the next slaving expedition. So now that
the ships are almost ready to leave, Hera is making him clean the barn
first." She shrugged.  It's typical. Unfortunately, even if Hephaestus's device
succeeds, she probably won't permit Hercules to go along."
A moment later, they heard hoofbeats as Poseidon and Hephaestus galloped back.  Clear the way!" her uncle shouted. Athena and Sam followed
the workmen, rushing for safety.
Hephaestus leaped off the animal's back and made a last-minute adjust 
ment in the Y configuration of pipes at the entrance to the barn door.  Well,
that's all we can do now," he said.  Let's hope the barn is still standing
when this is over."
Poseidon roared with laughter.  A little late for worries, isn't it?" he
shouted. His horse whinnied as the workmen pointed with wonder at the
quivering, quaking flume.
Water was hurtling downward, gaining momentum as it rushed in a line
over the rolling hills of the terrain, slowing around curves through the
ingenious shapes Hephaestus had devised. Just when it threatened to spill
over the sides, the water was made to loop in a complete circle. Then it
twisted from left to right, serpentine, working its way uphill again to finally
crash down with deafening power as it exploded into one side of the cow
barn and out the other.
The men cheered, dancing in the cold spray of the water. Hercules
grabbed Hephaestus in his arms and lifted him into the air. Issa stroked his
beard in wonder at the sight.
Sam looked at the half-mile-long water slide, creaking and swaying but
perfectly watertight throughout its convoluted length, and shook his head.
How long ago was Atlantis supposed to have existed eleven thousand
years? The time of cavemen?
And yet one of these men had created this sophisticated structure. On a
whim.
In a few minutes, the flow subsided. They followed Hephaestus through
the barn, which had been swabbed down to bare muddy earth. On the far
side, hay and manure were scattered over a rolling meadow. The grass
glistened.
Hephaestus approached, a broad smile on his face.  Well, now that that's
finished, we can get to work on the earthquakes. I take it you once had
earthquakes in your own country, Sam."
 Still do."
 But your people have found a. way to control them."
 No."
Hephaestus cocked his head.  Then if you don't mind may I ask why
His Majesty selected you for this task?"
 He thinks I know things that I don't," Sam said dejectedly.
 You are not an authority on earthquakes?"
Sam shook his head.  I'm a sailor."
 Ah," Hephaestus said gently.  Then our project may take longer than
the king expects."

chapter 9.


THE SLAVE SHIPS LEFT ATLANTIS FOR THE WESTERN MAINLand, AS ATHENA
had predicted, Hercules had not been permitted to go along.
Meanwhile, for two weeks Hephaestus and Sam had been drawing up and
discarding various plans for earthquake prevention, hoping to come up with
something usable before the ships returned with Hades's sacrificial slaves. This
morning, when Sam arrived at the open field near the bay, Hephaestus had been
waiting with two long metal coils and a shovel for each of them.
 What the hell is this stuff, anyway?" Sam asked after two hours. He spat on
his bloodied hands.
 Metal rope. I dipped the fibers in molten lead." He tossed Sam a rag.
 A lot of good this'll do me now. I'll probably die of lead poisoning before
the earthquake kills me."
Hephaestus grinned.  Well, at least you'll be able to speak your last words in
the proper Atlantean tongue," he said. Sam had learned the language with amazing
speed, probably owing to the unique telepathic way in which Athena had tutored
him. Within little more than a week, he had become fluent enough even to joke
with the workmen from the forge.
 Yeah, I'm a real linguist. I just wish I knew something about earthquakes."
The black man shrugged.  I don't know if an earthquake expert could help
much anyway. Nature always has the final word."
Then you think the destruction of Atlantis is inevitable?"
Hephaestus scooped up a shovelful of dirt.  I think we'd better do what we
can," he said.
They worked in silence for a while. Finally Hephaestus sent the digging team
back to their regular jobs at the forge. They had dug an area around the roots
of two olive trees, and now Sam and Hephaestus were connecting the roots with
the metal rope. Hephaestus's theory was that if all the deep-rooted trees were
joined together in a powerful underground web, it might contain the vibrations
from a quake and keep damage to a minimum. It was a good idea so far as Sam
could tell, but the work was backbreaking.
 Have you ever thought about how to stop the tremors before?" Sam asked,
breathing hard after the exertion of knotting the cables together.
Hephaestus bent over, his hands on his knees.  Many times."
 And nothing worked?"
Hephaestus shook his head.  It's the location of the island. There's some sort
of earthquake belt that runs north and south, almost in a straight line. It's as if
the land on either side of the quake line were rubbing together deep underground.
Unfortunately, that line goes right through Mount Olympus and through all three
canals."
Of course Hephaestus was right, Sam thought, recalling his high school science
classes. This Atlantean had figured out something that scientists would only come
to realize during the mid twentieth century of the modern world. Earthquakes
were caused by plates on the Earth's surface, colliding and slipping into each
other.
And there's no solution for it. It's just the way the Earth is built. Atlantis is
sitting on a fault.
 Then there might not be anything we can do," he said carefully.  What are
the canals for?"
 We need them for irrigation. They collect rain and river water and carry it
in concentric circles around much of the island. They've helped the agriculture,
but they've made the land even more unstable. Oh, no."
 What is it?"
The black man pulled Sam away from the olive tree and pushed him toward
the open field.  Get into the open. One's coming now."
Sam took a deep fearful breath. He had been on the slave ship during the
last tremor. The men in the hold had smashed into one another like leaves in
the wind, while seawater had gushed over them in torrents. Athena had told him
later that it had been minor, as far as Atlantean earthquakes went.
He could almost smell this one. The birds screamed overhead as they flew
out toward the sea. In the woods, he saw deer leaping frenziedly, heading for
shelter.
The tremor knocked both men down when it struck, rumbling deep in the
Earth. Sam felt the ground moving beneath him, crawling like a living thing.
Trying to rise, he dug his fingers into the dirt, fighting off a sudden fear that he
was about to be swallowed whole by whatever beast lived in its depths.
Ahead of him, a tree splintered with a terrible crash and then slid slowly to
the side where it came to rest like a spear tossed miles by a giant.
Hephaestus was lying prone, his arms covering his head.  Get down, fool,"
he shouted.
 Is this it?" Sam called back as he dropped flat to the ground.  The big one?"
 I don't think so," Hephaestus answered, scrambling closer to Sam.  I've been
through worse."
 That's encouraging," Sam mumbled.
It was over in less than a minute. At the far end of the plain, one farmhouse
had lost its chimney. A cow screamed in pain as it struggled to stand. Other
squat little farm buildings seemed to have come through without much damage.
But the metal cable had not held. Hephaestus picked up both frayed ends
from a spot between the two olive trees which now leaned precariously away
from one another.
 Better to find out now, rather than later, I guess," Sam said.
They stared at the broken cable for a long time.  It's no use," Hephaestus
said finally.  It looks like Hades is going to get his sacrifice after all."
 Does he believe that'll stop the earthquakes?"
 He pretends he does. It will make a great spectacle. The people will see him
trying to save them, and they'll regard him as their savior. Then, one day, when
a giant quake comes, he'll say it's because Zeus is on the throne and has angered
the gods . . . and the people might be frightened enough to believe him." He
threw down the ropes.  Meanwhile, two thousand slaves will have had their
hearts cut out for nothing." He ran his fingers through his wiry hair.  Life is so
cheap to us," he said quietly.
Sam could feel the engineer's disappointment. It was even greater than his
own because, after all, Sam had never held out any hope for finding a solution
to the earthquakes, but Hephaestus had been searching for years. Now time was
clearly running out. With each rumble, the land of the island became more
porous, less capable of fending off the encroaching sea. There was never a day
now when repair crews were not working on the canals. Sinkholes had appeared
in the plain, and areas which were once arable farmland were turning into
saltwater marshes.
And the best mind in the world in Sam's lights, maybe the best mind who
had ever lived could not think of one thing to do about it.
 Maybe the sacrifices will work," Sam offered lamely.  I mean, miracles happen, don't they?"
Hephaestus snorted derisively.  Let's get out of here," he said.
It was a long walk back to the palace, but before they had gone a mile, a
figure came riding toward them in a large chariot drawn by two horses
kicking up billows of dust that made the figure appear to be constantly
emerging from a cloud.
 She looks like a warrior, doesn't she?" Hephaestus said, smiling.
 She?"
 It's Athena. You can see the silver of her headpiece."
She did, in fact, seem to be made of silver, from the diadem in her hair
to the crossed bands of silver across her breasts. Moving in the bright
sunlight, she shone like a jewel.
 No wonder they call her a goddess," Sam said.
 What's that?"
 Nothing. She's very pretty, that's all."
 Athena's beauty is the least of her attributes. If Zeus were wise, he'd
choose her to succeed him on the throne. That is, if anything of Atlantis is
left," he added as an afterthought.
The chariot stopped and Athena ran, flushed and dusty, toward them.
 Hephaestus," she called.  A message from Parnassus. Your mother's illness
has worsened. Come, I will take you to her."
As they rode in the chariot over the highlands, the whole of Atlantis seemed
to be spread out before them.
The main island was fairly large and crescent-shaped, anchored at one end
by the towering cone of Mount Olympus, with the capital city of Olympus
sprawled at its base, and at the other end by the much smaller Mount
Parnassus. Surrounding the main island and stretching across both sides of
the Atlantic were an archipelago of small islands, most of them uninhabited
and used only as stopovers for the great Atlantean ships on their way to
the eastern and western mainlands the bodies of land Sam knew as Europe
and Central America.
The three of them rode south to the city of Parnassus, a journey of several
hours overland even though it was visible across the bay from Olympus.
As they passed through the small villages along the way, Sam saw every 
where the ravages inflicted on the island by the earthquakes. Buildings were
overturned, roads heaped like jumbles of ribbons, land ripped apart as if
it had been torn by gigantic hands. Clearly, Atlantis would not survive many
more tremors.
Can't they see there's no hope except to get out while there's still time" 
Sam wondered. The king had refused to consider Sam's suggestion to evacu 
ate the country, even after the terrible vision he had seen.
Well, it was easy to ignore visions, Sam knew. He had ignored them for
most of his life. He looked at Athena. Was she, too, despite her powerful
clairvoyance, also an ostrich with her head in the sand? Didn't any of them
realize that they were facing the end of the world?
 There it is ahead," Athena said, pointing out a long, low building fronted
by columns and vined with climbing flowers.  The Muses" residence."
 The Muses," Sam said, remembering what little he had learned about
Greek mythology.  Aren't they supposed to be spirits or something?"
Hephaestus laughed.  Hardly. They all started out as the king's concu 
bines. He didn't want them any more after he married Queen Metis, and
no one knew what to do with them."
 Hephaestus, it wasn't like that!" Athena chided, slowing the horses.
 Yes, it was. My mother's one of them, after all. She said they were all
worried sick that they'd be turned into slaves. I suppose they weren't far
from slaves to begin with, even though they'd lived in luxury in the palace,
but none of them were ordinary." He winked at Sam.  Zeus was a connois 
seur of women. Each of the concubines had some special and outstanding
talent, developed either in their homelands or here. My mother's was mathematics. She would have greatly resented scrubbing pots in the royal
kitchens."
 That would never have happened," Athena said.
 It certainly would have, if it weren't for your mother." He turned to
Sam.  Queen Metis had this grand house built for them, with dozens of
extra rooms, and called it a school. Then she got the peasants and tradesmen
to send their children there, since the nobility refused. To erase the stigma
of their former status, she insisted that the retired concubines be called
 Muses" it's an old literary term meaning  guide." Now it's the best school
on the continent. Even royal children study here if they can pass the tests.
The Muses are very particular only to take the most gifted students." He
grinned and squeezed Athena's shoulders.  Yes, little sister, your mother
left her mark."
Athena blushed with pride as she drove the chariot up to the building
and turned the reins over to a stablehand.
Set among the foothills of Mount Parnassus, the Muses" residence was a
peaceful oasis of grace and order. Below it, the colorful tiled roofs of the
 city glinted in the warm sun. The sound of a nearby waterfall mingled with
 the laughter of children.
 You will want to see your mother alone," Athena said.  We will wait
for you. I would like Sam to see Apollo's cave. Give Polyhymnia my best."
 The residence was cool and airy. The music from a flute drifted past Heph 
 aestus as he walked on bare feet over its marble floors. Farther down the
 hall, a group of children was singing, accompanied by lyres played so well
 they sounded like harps.
He had spent much time in this place of learning, surrounded by women
who spoke of geometry and agriculture and poetry, who danced with the
 lightness of forest sprites and sang with voices like bells. Women with skins
 of brown and yellow and palest white, their common bond a man who
 loved them and their accomplishments.
Presiding over it all had been his mother, Polyhymnia. Zeus had given
her that name as he had all the others: Calliope, Clio, Melpomene, Euterpe,
Erato, Terpsichore, Urania, and Thalia. Beautiful names, belonging to the
lost beautiful collection of women from around the world, although that
rould have been laughable to the children who knew them now as old
women.
Hephaestus stopped at the entrance to a room. Before he could knock,
Apollo peered out of the doorway, his eyes as compassionate as an angel's,
hephaestus was grateful that Apollo had consented to attend his mother,
he was as fine a healer as he was musician; but even when his patients
were beyond healing, as Polyhymnia was, Apollo brought them comfort.
 I'm glad you could come so quickly," he said with a smile.
 How sick is she?"
Apollo's eyes told Hephaestus all he needed to know. His mother was
dying.
 Let my son in," a woman's voice called behind him.  I'm not a cadaver
yet."
Polyhymnia appraised her son with a cool gaze. She had arranged her 
self with some effort, he suspected in a pose of elegant grace upon a
iivan covered with rose silk. Her own robes were of palest green, nearly
 transparent in their fineness. Her hair, still black with only a few gray strands
Defraying her age, was pulled up into a series of gold rings atop her head.
 lf it were not for her face once achingly beautiful, now taut with pain and
weariness one would have thought she was still the exotic concubine
brought from a distant land by a king who loved her.
 You're filthy," she said, amusement in her eyes.
 Forgive me, Mother," Hephaestus answered.  I came as soon as I
received Apollo's message. The roads are dusty with summer. You look
well, though."
 I have apparently made it through the latest crisis, with the help of
Apollo's magic."
 I have no magic," Apollo said.  If I had, lady, I would use it to make
you well."
She waved him away.  Only a fool wants to live forever. Great age is a
terrible curse."
 That is often true," he said, bowing graciously.  I shall go and leave
you to your son."
After he left, Polyhymnia's gaze rested steadily on Hephaestus's face,
 It's the earthquakes, isn't it?" she asked.  That's why you're so dirty. There
was another one today."
Her son was silent. He did not know what to say.
 Well, it does not matter," she said bitterly.  Atlantis has outlived its
usefulness. It is time to turn it over to the gods for punishment."
Hephaestus frowned.  Punishment? Surely you haven't taken up Hades's
belief in the wrathful Atlantean gods."
 There are other gods besides Hades's."
He had no idea what his mother was talking about.  Which gods are
those?"
The old woman narrowed her eyes.  You have learned much among
your father's people," she said.  And forgotten more. Even your name."
Hephaestus took a deep breath. He had heard this lament before. His
mother had named him Ptah, a sound of power among her people, but Zeus
had deemed the name unpronounceable and renamed him. She seemed
annoyed that her son had never objected.
 A name isn't so very important," he said.
 One could say the same about an idea, a fact, a truth." Her eyes flashed.
 Or have you become too much of an Atlantean nobleman to care about
such things?"
Hephaestus sat down wearily. He had come to see his sick mother, and
now he was being badgered as if he were a defendant in court.
 Look at me," she snapped.
He looked up dutifully, resentful that she could still make him feel like
a wayward child.  Atlantis is doomed, Hephaestus, but you are not. You
are not an Atlantean. While half your blood comes from Zeus, the rest is
from the heart of the  other" world where people are allowed to have different
colored eyes, different hair, different skin."
 We are no longer in danger in Atlantis, Mother," he said.  You are
treated with honor and respect." He did not add: because of me.
 I hear you behind your words," Polyhymnia said.  You feel that you
belong here, that your gifts would have been wasted in the primitive land
of my ancestors. That my people are, after all, not quite human, suitable
only for slavery."
 You were never a slave."
 Was I free to leave these long years?" Her elegant nostrils flared.
 I don't understand your point, Mother."
 You don't understand because you think like them! You even married
one of them." Her mouth twisted as she spoke the name with deepest scorn,
 Aphrodite. You begged for her hand, you gave her everything . . . and yet
she despised you."
 Mother . . ."
 You were never anything to her but an ugly black cripple. . . ."

 Stop it," he shouted. He turned away toward the window to hide his
face.
 You weep because you believe it yourself," Polyhymnia said.  At your
birth, the high priest tried to kill you. Your Atlantean wife loathes you. But
even though it destroy you, yet you follow the Atlantean way and thus
betray yourself every day."
 How?" he asked hotly.  How do I betray myself, or you? By building
dams? By forging tools? By constructing palaces?"
 By doing those things for them," she said.  Look at what these people
have done with the singular gifts bestowed on them by the Stranger. They
can not only read and write and understand numbers, but they can build
and sail and soar. With such ability, they could have led the world out of
darkness, eliminated hunger and disease, made a paradise of this planet.
But what have they done?
 They have withheld the knowledge that would make all men better.
And why? Because they cannot be merely men. They must master men,
master all they see. That was why I was never permitted to return to my
people. The Atlanteans feared that like Prometheus, I would care for the
savages. I would try to save their lives."
She sat back on the divan and closed her eyes.  And I would. I would
have told them everything I know. Mathematics, writing, music. I would
have given them the knowledge of Atlantis to build upon. It would first
have benefitted them, but in the end, it would have come back to this land,
because the wisdom of the Stranger would be made to grow with each
generation of scholars, not diminish back into ignorance."
The corners of her mouth turned down bitterly, and she suddenly looked
old.  You wanted to know which gods have come to punish Atlantis. I will
tell you. They are the spirits of the air and the water and the stars, of which
human beings are a part. And they have watched these prideful Atlanteans
separate themselves from the rest of mankind until there is no longer a
place for them in the universe. That is their offense. It is for that that they
will die. And you, too, if you are one with them."
 I am sorry if I displease you," Hephaestus said disspiritedly.  But an
Atlantean is all I know how to be."
 Really? Then how did you build the pyramids?"
 How . . ." He hesitated.  I don't "
 Yes, you do know what I mean."
He looked at the floor.
 I am a mathematician," she said quietly.  And so I know that these
structures are perfect. Their measurements, their relationships, perfection
on perfection. I know the perimeter of the base measures the number of
days in the year. I have divided the perimeter by twice the height to find
the constant that measures the circle. I know that one can calculate the
distance to the sun using the values of your buildings. But to do this, one
must first know the distance to the sun, which was a secret kept by the
priestesses of Gaea." Her feverish eyes bored into his.  This knowledge
could have come only from one source."
 No," he began to protest.
 You have found the Stranger's own writings, haven't you?" she rasped.
He looked away.
 The high priest killed Prometheus for building a fire to save a slave
woman's life. What would he do to you if he knew that you have found
the lost knowledge of Atlantis and failed to give it to him?"
Hephaestus was silent for a long time. Finally, he said,  The knowledge
was not lost. It was ignored." He took a deep breath.  Years ago, when I
was little more than a boy, I was given the task of repairing the underground
burial chambers of the king-gods. They were very old, and had been badly
damaged by earthquakes. Hades gave me a list of all the ancient kings
interred there, and I found every coffin . . . plus one extra."
He swallowed nervously.  It had been behind a wall that had fallen in
when part of the ceiling collapsed. The odd thing about it was that the
casket was made of a metal I had never seen before. I tried to chip off a
piece of it so that I could melt it down in my forge, but it was impossible.
That was when I found the writings. They were inside a small case beside
the sarcophagus."
Polyhymnia raised her fingers to her mouth.  What did they say?"
He shook his head.  They were difficult to understand. Some parts were
expressed only by symbols, which I took to be forms of mathematics and
chemistry. That was how I arrived at the dimensions for the pyramid. But
the written sections . . ." He looked into his mother's eyes. They gazed at
him steadily, patiently.  Some of it seems to assume that human beings
have more than five senses," he said.
 And so you decided not to tell Hades."
 I had no choice, mother. The priests deny that the Stranger ever existed.
If I were to tell him I'd found the coffin, Hades would have had me killed
to protect his religion."
Polyhymnia pressed her lips together.  Then what did you do with it?"
 Nothing, at the time. But later, when I built the death pyramid, I moved
it along with those of the kings. I built a special chamber for the coffin. No
priest can find it."
 And the writings?"
 I copied them onto the wall of the chamber. For a later time, when the
truth is no longer required to conform to the notions of those in power.
When, perhaps, great knowledge will be used for something besides the
subjugation of others."
She blinked slowly, her eyes brimming.  How I have underestimated
you, Ptah," she whispered.  And how proud I am to call you son." She
embraced him, and within the circle of her bony, frail arms, Hephaestus
felt her complete and perfect love.  I wish to make a request of you,"
Polyhymnia said, her voice quavering.  A very difficult request."
 Yes? What is it?"
She clasped his hands.  The end of Atlantis will come soon," she said.
 Before it is too late, I want you to go back across the seas to my homeland."
 Back to "
 To the so-called savages from whom you have distanced yourself so
utterly. Teach them what you know, and learn from them what you need.
Place the ashes of Atlantis in this new land, Ptah, and from them build an
empire based on dignity and truth."
He was silent for a long time.
 Will you do this for me?"
He nodded slowly.  Yes. I'll go."
She smiled, then lay back, her eyes closed.
 I love you," Hephaestus whispered, still holding her hand.
She squeezed his once, so weakly he could not discern whether or not
the action was deliberate, then let go.

chapter 10.


AFTER HEPHAESTUS WENT INTO THE MUSES" RESIDENCE, ATHENA LED SAM up
a narrow path toward a cave where two women stood. At their feet were dozens
of clay pots, some of them enormous, surrounded by cut flowers. The women
were tending the flowers, picking out the dead blooms, arranging the rest. Sam
saw one of them drop a dead mouse into one of the flower pots.
 What's she doing?" he asked.
 Feeding the snakes."
Sam stopped in his tracks.  You're taking me into a cave with snakes? I don't
think so."
 Don't be silly," Athena chastened.  The snakes here are sacred. It is said that
the Stranger came to this cave to die. After his spirit departed, the serpents
protected his body from predators until the priestesses arrived to claim it. This
is a place of great power."
The Stranger, Sam remembered. The king's thoughts had contained something
about that.  Is that what you call God?" he asked.  The Stranger?"
Athena shook her head.  He was never a god," she said.  He came from a
place far away no one knows where with powers and knowledge beyond
the ken of the primitive people who lived here in those days. At least that is
how the legend goes."
She picked a fragrant blossom from a low-hanging branch and twirled it
between her fingers.  In that time we worshipped the Earth goddess. Some of
us still do, even though Hades and his priests have all but outlawed the faith.
They discount the Stranger now because he had been very close to the high
priestess of the old religion. Her lover, in fact."
Sam laughed.  You sound as if you knew him personally."
 My mother spent her youth with the priestesses before their temple was
destroyed. They kept the Stranger's memory alive."
 Even his love affairs?"
 Oh, it was more than that. He loved her so deeply that he promised to return
after his death to be with her again." She ducked her head to enter the mouth
of the cave.  Some believe that was what the Stranger meant when he wrote his
last words these with a burnt stick on this stone."
She gestured toward a large slab of rock propped against the far wall. The

original writing had been replaced by words carved into the rock. "  With a stranger
shall it begin again, " she read.  Of course, one can read many meanings "
 Oh, my God," Sam said. He brushed the stone lightly with the palm of his
hand. In his mind, he could almost see the luminescent plant life covering it drift
away into the ocean.  The grotto."
 Is this place familiar to you?" she asked.
 It's how I got here. Only it was underwater. I found it in the Peaks, and I
came up " he squinted along the distant shoreline " over there, I think. Facing
Olympus."
The two women who were tending the flowers outside murmured as they
slipped past him, behind the Stranger's stone.  What's back there?" he asked.
 The cavern is vast," Athena said.  This is only its mouth." She led him inside.
The inner cavern was not the dark, still place Sam had expected. Fissures
crazed the slippery, slightly domed floor, out of which poured billows of seething
steam and an eerie phosphorescent light. It was as close an approximation of
hell as Sam had ever seen. The women who had preceded them sat on a stone
bench along the glistening wet wall.
 They are waiting for my brother Apollo," Athena said softly.  He is a healer."
As she spoke, an enormous python slithered across the floor near Sam's feet.
Athena laughed at the expression on Sam's face.  Don't worry," she said.  The
snakes here are well fed."
 Glad to hear it." Sam swallowed.  Do all your hospitals look like this?"
 No. Apollo does not treat sickness with medicine here. He heals with the
Power alone."
 Oh." Sam thought of Carol Ann.  I knew someone like that once." Suddenly
he felt the memories of another life crashing down upon him like pebbles in an
avalanche, stinging with its old hurt, threatening to bury him.
 This place greatly concentrates the mind," Athena said, sensing his unease.
 Be careful of your thoughts." She pulled him deeper into the interior of the
cave.
Sweat had been pouring into his eyes since they had walked behind the
Stranger's stone, but here in the dark corridor where they walked, it was much
cooler. Athena moved briskly into another chamber of the cave system, then
another  each darker than the last. It was as if she were racing toward some sort
of sanctuary. She held her back very straight, very rigid. Sam had the feeling that
if he touched her, she might break into brittle little pieces.
By the time they reached the last cave there was almost no light, and the air
was so cold Sam felt himself shivering. Here Athena finally stopped, sitting on
a small natural ledge against the wall. Feeling his way, Sam sat next to her,
blinking in the absolute darkness.
 I used to come here as a child," Athena said, her voice sounding hollow.
 Sometimes I saw you in my thoughts." She trembled.
 What's the matter?" he asked gently, taking her hand. He could make out
the faint outline of her face now.
 I almost did not bring you here," she said softly.  I thought that I might keep
you with me, like a pet. Forgive me."
The implications of what she was saying slowly crept over him.  You mean
you know how to get me back?"
 I am not certain. But as I told you, this is a place of power. It is also apparently
where you crossed over from your world to mine. If there is any place from
which you might return, it is here."
 How . . . how do I do it?"
 Try to remember the world in your own time. It should not be difficult. Those
thoughts have never been far from your mind."
She was right. Behind everything he had seen and done in Atlantis had been
the nagging, insistent memory of the people he had left behind. Darian, aging
and alone on board the Styx; Cory, whom he might have loved if Athena had
not called to him from the bottom of the sea; Reba . . .
Reba was kneeling on the sand of Memory Island.
And she was staring right at him.
Sam!
He gasped.
Sam, honey, wherever you are, you got to come back
 Reba?"
I see you. But it's dark there, so dark
He felt his whole body growing numb.  Athena, " he whispered, reaching out
for her frantically.
 Don't be afraid," she said, embracing him. He could hardly hear her voice.
 Good journey to you, Sam.   
He heard the music again, Her music that had called to him all his life, fading
now, the tie between them finally loosening. At last he would be free, a normal
man for whom the siren of the distant past did not sing. He would have his world
back.
Without Athena.
Sam? Reba's voice, louder now. Sam, you hear me?
 I . . ." He clutched Athena closer to him.  God forgive me, I can't leave her
now," he said hoarsely.  I know you need me, Reba, but I've waited for her too
long to give her up."
 No, Sam," Athena protested.  Go. You must try. . . ." She was choking with
tears.
Reba's face shrank to a pinpoint and vanished.
 Get her back!" Athena demanded.  Leave this place now, before it is too
late!"
 It's already too late," Sam said.
 You are betraying your own people by not returning to help them."
 I'm staying here."
She moaned.  You don't know what you're saying, Sam. There is no future
here. Not for any of us. I will show you." She pressed her hands on his face and
released the full flood of her thoughts.
Suddenly Sam felt as if he were on fire.
Fire. It's all fire.
The fire was all around him: First the earth opened up in giant cracks, swalowing whole buildings while a fleet of ships surrounded by hundreds of small
boats bobbed wildly in the roiling sea. Bobbed, then capsized, one by one,
overcome by waves the height of mountains, washing over the square sails of
the galleons until they were gone, splintered like driftwood. For a few moments,
heads dotted the water, their bodies invisible, their faces contorted with terror
and the certainty of death.
In the rubble which had once been the great city of Olympus were strewn
 bodies, thousands of arms and legs, a woman's buttocks obscenely displayed in
(death, a disembodied foot resting atop an ornament that had once graced the
roof of some magnificent building. Then came the sea, the sea roiling over the
plain, covering the land forever, taking it down, down. . . .
 That is what awaits you here," Athena whispered roughly. Her hands slipped
 from his face.  And the barren island of my father's vision is all that will remain
 of us."
He took her hands.  It doesn't have to happen that way," Sam said stolidly.
  We can leave. All of us, together. There are places in the world besides Atlantis."
 We cannot change the course of things to come," she said dully.
They were both silent for a long time. The only sound was the slow dripping
 of water from somewhere far away.
 I brought you to my doomed country," Athena said bitterly.  I brought you
 here because I saw you in my dreams and I wanted you to be with me," she
 said.  It was as if I'd known you before, in some other life, in some other time.   ."
Suddenly she laughed. It was high-pitched and hysterical.  Another time," she
shrieked.
 Athena " He took hold of her shoulders.  Athena. Stop it."
 Another time.   ." She bent her head forward onto his chest and sobbed.  It
Iwas your time I saw, a time that owes nothing to Atlantis, a time where this land
is nothing but a legend, a fairy story. Everything we know, everything we are,
is for nothing." She held him close to her.  Oh, Sam, don't you see? I brought
 you here to die with us. If you don't go now, I'll have destroyed you!"
He felt her slender body wrack with a sadness so terrible it seemed her flesh
could hardly contain it.
 I wanted to come," he said softly.
 Because I called to you."
He drew in the fragrance of her hair.  It was all I had to live for."
 Then you're a fool."
He moved his face close to hers, felt her breath on his face.  I won't leave
you," he said.  I'll never leave you."
In the dark cave he took her in his arms and their lips met, hungrily, their
embrace one that had waited lifetimes. Her dress slid from around her easily,
slipping to the floor like the wings of a butterfly.
She came to him then, naked and filled with wild love. The music that welled
Dut of them crashed around them like waves as their bodies moved in a frenzy
desire. His mouth suckled her breasts, perfect, pliant, and when they joined
flesh, as they had been joined in their minds for so many years, it was as ifth
the sea had swallowed them both.
 I love you," he said.
The words, whispered, echoed through the cave, softer, softer, until they were
 inaudible but still present.
 And I love you, Sam."
She buried her face in his neck and wept 
CHAPTER      11
AT DAWN, THE SOUTHEAST SEACOAST OF ATLANTIS WAS EVEN MORE BEAUTiful then her cities. The Atlantean fleet, now reduced to fewer than a hundred
ships because of Hades" slaving expedition, stood in the harbor, their masts
pointing toward the sky, bursting one by one into flashes of light as the
sun rose.
From atop a boulder protruding out of the sand, Sam watched a lone
man on horseback cantering along the docks, stopping occasionally to take
a closer look at one vessel or another. It was Poseidon, Sam knew. The old
man could not stay away from the sea. And when on land, he always rode.
It was as if he could not bear for his feet to touch dry land.
Sam smiled as Poseidon galloped toward him. The gruff old sailor would
never believe that he would be remembered, one day eleven millennia from
now, as a god.
 Spying on my ships?" he demanded as he reined in the stallion abruptly,
engulfing Sam in a cloud of dust.
 No, sir."
 Then what's your business?"
Sam shook his head.  I've got no business."
 My brother thinks you'll end the earthquakes. Can it be done?"
Sam looked out into the harbor.  No, sir. Not by me."
The horseman snorted.  Well, that sounds honest, at least." His gaze
followed Sam's toward the water, where the first of Poseidon's sailors were
heading toward shore, sacks of tools slung over their shoulders.
 Are you planning to build more ships?" Sam asked.
Poseidon looked down at him, his eyes narrowed.  We're repairing the
ones we've got."
 What about the rest of the island? Do you have other shipyards?"
The sailor crossed his arms over his chest.  I think all you need to know
is that the Atlantean fleet is the biggest and best in the world."
 Big enough to get everyone out of here?" Sam asked baldly.  Look,
evacuation is the only hope you people have. And that depends on your
ships."
Poseidon looked at him crookedly.  Have you told the king of your fears
for us?"
Sam picked up a pebble and tossed it.  I've tried. So has Hephaestus.
Zeus won't listen, and that bat-winged priest keeps telling him I'm some
kind of enemy saboteur."
The sailor laughed.  My men would agree with him. The ones who don't
think you're a spy are convinced you're a sorcerer. And I'm not sure you're
not both."
The approaching seamen passed them. They touched their fists to their
chests in salute to Poseidon while eyeing Sam suspiciously. Then they slid
into the water around the first ship, their hammers and tar pots on backs
as they climbed the squat masts. Poseidon turned his stallion to follow them.
 The sails," Sam said suddenly.  Your sails are wrong."
Poseidon turned back toward him, frowning.  The sails aren't even up."
 Doesn't matter," Sam said.  It's their shape that's wrong. They're square,
and stuck on the masts like shields. Spinnaker sails would maneuver better."
 Spin . . . what?" he asked irritably.
 Kind of like this." Sam drew a picture in the sand with a stick.  It's sort
of like a lopsided rectangle, so that one corner points upward."
 That's a ridiculous shape for a sail," the sailor scoffed.  It would overbalance at the first gust of wind."
 Not if it were allowed to rotate on the mast." Sam made some refinements
on his sand drawing.  You'll need some spars here . . . and here   . to
provide support for the sail, so that when you hoist it, the upper spar is
lifted by the rigging. These ropes " he added more lines " will adjust
their position. Each sail would move in a full circle around the mast, and
you could let them out according to how much wind you have to work
with." He set down his stick.  They'd make your ships go a lot faster than
those big rags you've got up now."
Poseidon glared at him.  By the gods, you even talk like a sorcerer."
 What I am is a sailor, Poseidon, and I can help you if you'll let me."
His words hung in the silence.  Look, I'll prove this sail works," Sam offered.
 Give me one ship. I'll fit it out and you can see for yourself."
 Give a ship to a spy?" the old man roared.  Do you think I'm an idiot?"
 No, you're not. That's why you ought to consider what I'm saying."
For a moment Poseidon sat motionless on his stallion, examining the
crude drawing in the sand. Then, without a word, he reached down and
pulled Sam up onto the horse with a powerful swing of his arm. He galloped
the stallion down the beach until they were beside the remains of an old
fishing boat lying on its side in a bed of dried seaweed.
The boat was only fifty feet long, Sam noted, barely larger than Darian
McCabe's Styx, with a shallow keel. There was a hole on the bottom three
feet wide. The single mast had been broken off near its base. It had no
rudder.
Poseidon tossed him onto the beach beside the wreck.  You can have
this one," he said with a grin.
 Very funny."
 You said you needed a ship. Here it is."
Sam felt the broken ends of the boards around the hole in the hull. The
wood wasn't rotten; the boat must have been pulled out of the water fairly
quickly after it was wrecked.
He put his hands on his hips.  All right, I'll take it," he said.
The old man laughed heartily.  Excellent! You have three days." He
galloped away.
 Wait," Sam called after him.  Three days isn't . . . this tub's a wreck . . .
I can't.   ."
But all he heard in response were hoofbeats and Poseidon's laughter.
 Damn you," he shouted. But the laughter didn't stop.
Sam went to see Hephaestus. The engineer had been brooding in his
palace apartment ever since his visit to his mother, but Sam told him this
was an emergency. He drew pictures of the sails and rigging he proposed,
and diagrammed the wind dynamics as well as he knew how.
Hephaestus looked at the drawings for a long while, at first with little
interest, then coming to life with question after question.
 The problem is that the boat's a piece of junk," Sam complained.  And
I've only got three days to repair the hull and rig the sails."
Hephaestus smiled.  We'd better get to work, then," he said.
Hephaestus had one crew of men from his forge repair the hull of the boat
and coat the bottom with pitch while another team constructed a rudder
which responded to a helm fashioned by yet a third group. The sail, cut
from ordinary sailcloth, was being sewn by a fourth crew. Sam marveled
to watch their big, permanently-blackened hands work with the skill and
precision of embroiderers.
The masts were in the hands of Sam and Hephaestus. From Sam's designs,
Hephaestus fashioned two lightweight masts made from a metal alloy that
was sturdier than aluminum, with half its weight. With bolts, Hephaestus
attached the rings that accommodated the rigging.
They were finished in two days. They had two telescoping masts, twenty
and thirty feet long, which swiveled smoothly in all directions and would
support a ton of canvas.
But it still had to be assembled.
They began near sundown, the men from the forge carrying the restored
hull on their shoulders to a makeshift dry dock on shore. By nightfall, the
rudder had been attached and the underpinnings that would support the
helm fitted into the empty hull.
Issa, the ancient slave who tended the livestock and the zoo, came by
with a tray filled with oil lamps. He exhausted himself scurrying about,
trying to hold a light over one section of work and then another, but the
night was starless and the men, already growing slow and clumsy with
fatigue, were bumping into each other in the darkness.
 Fitting the masts is going to be impossible without light," Sam said.
 Maybe we ought to wait until daybreak.   ."

He squinted into the distance. A smattering of light, like a swarm of
fireflies, emerged from the pyramid palace in the distance, then made its
way slowly forward toward them. As they watched, the tiny lights grew in
number until they took the shape of an immense serpent winding its way
down the mountain.
 What is it?" Sam asked, feeling the flesh on his neck rise.
Suddenly Hephaestus laughed and pointed.  Look. The leading light."
And then Sam saw it: a band of silver just above the glow of quivering
flame and the face of a goddess.
 Athena," he whispered.
 It looks like she's brought every retainer in the palace with her."
 And every lamp," Sam said.
The workers welcomed the torchbearers loudly. Sam watched Athena's
serene face blush in the glow of flames.  How did you get them all to come?"
he asked.
 None would stay away," she said.  All have heard of your wager."
 Wager?"
She gave him a look of mock surprise.  Why, don't you know? It's all
around. If your boat can't sail faster than my uncle's best warship, you've
promised to turn yourself into an ass."
Sam laughed.  It won't be the first time." He felt himself getting lost in
her eyes again.  I've missed you."
 You had to be left to your work."
 I thought you didn't believe we could change the course of things to
come," he said.
She smiled at him shyly.  Perhaps I was wrong." She backed away,
positioning herself and her lamp at the opposite end of the boat.
By first light, the masts were locked in place, the rigging mounted, and
the new sails ready to unfurl. Only a few of the volunteers, among them
Athena, remained. She was standing, as still and beautiful as a statue, the
lamp in her hands infusing her with radiance.
 We're finished," Sam said. He was bone-weary. It was a struggle to keep
his eyes open. But even as he leaned against the keel, he heard the sound
of hoofbeats.
 Let's hope she floats," he said to Hephaestus.
 If she doesn't, don't count on anyone pulling us out," the black man
said.
Sam looked at him.  Us?" he said.
 Do you think I'd miss the maiden voyage of a ship I built with my own
hands?"
Sam grinned and turned to face Poseidon.
The old sailor circled the small boat, his face deliberately expressionless.
But Sam could see in his eyes the admiration for the workmanship and a
barely contained curiosity about the lightweight metal masts and the sails
furled tightly to them.
He examined the mechanism beneath the helm that controlled the flared,
curved rudder, so different from the crude boards used in even the newest
fleet ships, then turned back to Sam.
 Well, let's see how this strange fish swims," he commanded.
As the men from the forge lifted the boat into the water, Sam glanced at
Athena. Slowly she inclined her head in silent benediction.
Sam and Hephaestus climbed into the boat and Sam untied the first
sail. The wind was good; it flapped noisily as it opened. Then it filled as
Hephaestus untied the second sail. Observers on shore gasped at the two
delicate parallelograms which filled with air, then settled as Sam luffed the
boat around into the wind and then filled again as Sam at the helm raced
across the harbor mouth.
He guessed he was doing twenty knots, three times the speed of Poseidon's fastest warship, and when he looked back toward shore he saw the
old sailor, standing near Athena, staring after him.
He did not know that Poseidon had been hoping, too, that Sam's idea
would work. The old sailor had known for some time that evacuation of
the island might become necessary.
 Let me take some people now," he had pleaded with Zeus weeks before.
 A few hundred at a time, moving them out of our colonies. There's Iberia,
Phoenicia, Egypt, Attica   . all with tracts of good land."
Zeus answered by covering his head with his hands.
 Brother, you must consider "
 I do consider. I consider every night as I cannot sleep," Zeus said.
 Then save the people while you can!"
Zeus looked up, red-eyed and angry.  And what if this calamity does not
happen for a thousand years? My visions and the foreigner's are without
time. Should I exile our best citizens to savage lands now for no reason?"
Poseidon was astonished.  But the earthquakes "
 The earthquakes have come and gone for generations. Perhaps they
will go on for generations to come." He slapped his hands into his lap.
 Who knows? Perhaps the ancestor kings will save us, after all."
 Is that what Hades is saying?" Poseidon asked with disgust.
The king sighed.  Why do you insist on mocking the gods?"
Poseidon's eyes were hard.  I know no gods, brother. Certainly not
Hades's moldering kings. I know only the sea, and the sea in an earthquake
frightens me."
Zeus touched the diamond pendant around his neck as if hoping for a
sign from it. The lifeless rock gave none.  We will wait," Zeus had said,
wearing his weariness like a shroud.  We must hold on to Atlantis for as
long as we can."
Poseidon had obeyed, but on that day, he began working his men mercilessly from daybreak to night, repairing every vessel in the fleet. He vowed
to himself that when Ares returned from his latest expedition, there would
be no more slave runs. Every ship would remain moored at harbor in perfect
condition, awaiting the king's command to evacuate the island.
Now he smiled as he watched Hephaestus and Sam Nowar sail their boat
back and forth across the harbor with a speed he had never seen before.
The new sails gave him hope. They, not the mountain of sacrificed bodies
that lay in the Land of the Dead, would save his people from destruction.
A soft arm draped gently around his waist. Athena rested her head on
his shoulder, her hair smelling of smoke from the lamp she had held through
the night.
 Does it make a difference, Uncle?" she asked.  We still cannot stop the
final earthquake."
 No, we cannot," Poseidon whispered into the wind. Sam and Hephaestus
were coming around, tacking against the wind, slicing forward through the
sea without a single rower. A laugh rose from deep in Poseidon's throat as
the watching crowd of sailors cheered.  But with these sails, we can outrun
the bastard!"
Standing atop the death pyramid, Hades looked out of expressionless eyes
at the bay.
The foreigner was going to convince them all to abandon their homes
and live like savages in some distant colony. Then, no doubt, the barbarian's
own people would move in,  a bloodless coup of the greatest nation in the
world. And this treacherous savage would sit on the throne of Atlantis.
He had never forgotten Hecate's prophecy. Half of it had already come
true Zeus had usurped Hades's place as king. But there had been another
part to which the high priest had paid scant attention at the time. Hecate
had forseen that Zeus would not only rule Atlantis, but would destroy it.
Now he saw how that would come to pass not through Zeus's own
hands, but through those of a stranger whom the mindless rabble would
follow into oblivion.
The people must be persuaded not to leave.
For that, he needed an earthquake.
Return soon, Ares, he commanded silently. Bring my slaves.
From a window in the palace pyramid, Zeus also watched the small boat
that sailed with the speed of a bird in flight.
He knew his brother. Poseidon would be impressed and would surely
rerig the ships of the fleet to use the odd new sails.
Perhaps it is time to think of escape, after all, he thought. So it has come
to this.
He fingered the diamond amulet. The Eye of Zeus no longer saw anything.
Once his mind had boiled with visions, plans, decisions. The stone had
glowed brightly.  Ah, Metis, why did I let you go?" he cried aloud.
With her, he had banished his self respect. And with that, even the
Stranger's great gift had left him.
Now Hades and his sacrifices were all he had left to wish upon.
His heart felt as dead as a hollow tree.


chapter 12.

HEPHAESTUS WAS CALLED AWAY THE NEXT DAY TO ATTEND THE FUNERAL
of his mother in Parnassus. Apollo told him that she had never regained
consciousness after her son's visit to her. It was as if she had saved the last
of her strength to see him.
Upon his return to Olympus, he found the naval yards in a welter of
activity. After Sam's demonstration of the efficacy of his new sails, Poseidon
had ordered the hundred large warships which remained in the harbor to
be similarly outfitted. Now, Hephaestus's forge worked day and night to
build the navy's new masts. At night, the glow of its furnaces colored the
sky around Mountnt Olympus.
Zeus had even aasked the commoners for their help in refitting, but they
had not cooperated. Instead, they had gathered on the banks of the canal
facing Hades's pyramid and raised their plaintive voices, praying for the
gods to deliver them from destruction.
 Why don't they help?" Sam asked, seeing the crowd kneel before the
black figure of the high priest.  Don't they understand? These ships can
save them."
 They'll accept salvation if someone gives it to them, the way Hades has
promised to," Hephaestus said dryly.  It's easier to sacrifice a slave than
rerig a ship. Besides, they don't want to accept the idea that they may have
to leave. There's not much out there, you know."
 Then the hell with them," Sam growled.  The best will want to go."
Will they? Hephaestus wondered. Will i?
His whole life and more was bound to Atlantis. This was where he grew
from an unwanted bastard child into the genius of his age. When the time
came, would he be willing to leave? Or would he, like the commoners, like
the king himself, continue to hope for an end to the earthquakes, look for
a way to repair the damage done, hang on for another day, yet another
day. . . .
Hephaestus had promised his mother he would go. He had meant to
keep that promise, but. . . Africa? Why, the whole gigantic uncharted continent was so savage that the Atlanteans had not even established slave routes
there. To leave the greatest civilization the world had ever known to live in
a jungle with people who had not yet developed even the concept of the
wheel was a prospect too unpleasant to contemplate.
Still, he had promised.
He owed more than his life to Polyhymnia. He owed her his knowledge.
For it was his mother, one of the jungle people his Atlantean sense of
superiority held in such disdain, who had taught him the magic of mathematics as she herself learned it. She had opened his eyes to the perfection of
geometry, the arcane mysteries of algebra. She had shown him the stars
and revealed to him their absolute connection with the Earth.
And she had never been a slave.
Zeus had found Polyhymnia by accident, in the remotest area of the deep
jungle, far to the south. She had been a queen of sorts, according to Zeus,
although she herself had rarely spoken of her life before she had come to
live in Atlantis.
The king had seen her, carried in a great chair, her hair braided into a
hundred loops, like snakes, dotted with gold nuggets and gems of brightest
blue and green. Her eyes, Zeus told him, were wild like a panther's, and
her limbs, longer and more graceful than any Atlantean woman's, were
covered with bracelets of hammered gold.
Zeus had been on excursion with Poseidon. They had blown off course,
and Polyhymnia was the unexpected treasure they found. She offered herself
to Zeus in exchange for his promise to send no others to the land she called
Timbuktu. If he did not comply with her bargain, she said, she would kill
herself.
Zeus never doubted that she would keep her word. Years after her arrival
in Atlantis, even after the king took other concubines to slake his lust in
her place, neither he nor Poseidon ever had revealed the location of her
native land.
Or perhaps they simply did not remember it.
Hephaestus sighed. In the end, he knew, he would go. Polyhymnia had
not been an Atlantean; promises had carried weight with her.
A sharp nub of metal from one of the masts he was unloading cut his
palm. He cursed and held his other hand to it to stanch the flow of blood.
 It's a sign," a voice said behind him.
Hephaestus did not turn around. He knew the velvet of that voice and
the poison it carried. He tore off a piece of his tunic and wrapped it around
his bleeding palm.
 You're defying the gods. Perhaps you'll lose those precious hands." She
laughed in that overblown, exaggerated way he had always hated.
He whirled to face her.  Aphrodite," he began. He wanted to tell her to
stop bothering people who worked while she idled but, as always, the sight
of her took all his words away and left him staring like a fool.
She was wearing the belt he had made as his wedding gift to her. It was
a broad expanse of beaten gold, seven inches wide in its center, ornamented
with polished red star sapphires in a sunburst pattern around a massive
pear-shaped pearl that gleamed like the moon. She had kept the gift when
she left him. In fact, she had worn it on the day she sailed away with Ares
to one of his pleasure homes on an out island.
Her infidelity had come as no surprise, really. Aphrodite was a beauty,
the most beautiful woman the royal house had ever produced. She would
have been a prize if she had been a peasant's daughter; as a noblewoman
of Atlantis, she was unreachable.
From the time she was a girl, Aphrodite had been courted. Songs were
written about her breathtaking beauty, her golden red hair, and eyes as
blue as the sea, her porcelain skin which never freckled, her lissome figure.
And so everyone was shocked when Hera, wife to Zeus, announced that
Aphrodite would marry Hephaestus, who walked with a limp, whose nose
had been crushed during his fall in infancy, whose right eye drooped some 
what, whose dark skin still bore the pink stretched scars from that fall.
Hephaestus!
He knew why he had been chosen. Hera, in her jealousy, had played
one of her cruel jokes on the one woman who was unqualifiedly more
beautiful than she herself. Hera had made the choice to punish Aphrodite
for her youth and perfection, but Hephaestus did not care. He loved her
anyway, and hoped that with time Aphrodite would come to love him in
return. He had asked nothing of her. He did not even demand his marital
rights to her body, although he hungered for it.
Once she had kissed him. It was a tease, a long, slow tantalizing kiss
that left his whole body hard and throbbing, his need so urgent that he
feared he would explode. And then she had danced away, laughing, taunting
him with her naked legs, her hair swirling in waves below her hips.
It was an old story, and he should have known the ending. Aphrodite
despised him. She openly consorted with other men, particularly Ares. And
after a while, Hephaestus no longer cared.
 What do you want, Aphrodite?" he asked quietly.
 Is this your best solution to the earthquakes? Rebuild the navy?"
 Yes." He went about his work, conscious that his hands were trembling.
It was the scent of her, not human, nothing to do with sweat or tears, but
the scent of jasmine and rose and bergamot, as if she were some exotic
blossom planted among weeds.
 It's a waste of time. No one's going to leave Atlantis except for the
king and his precious Athena. And good riddance to them both, the scared
rabbits!"
 If they leave, we all leave."
She laughed.  Do you think they'd let you on board?" Her voice was
high and tinkling as a bell.  It stinks here."
 Then go back to the palace. Or wherever you're lying down these days."
She pointed to Sam, fitting a mast at the other end of the ship.  It's his
doing, isn't it? He's the one who's been talking Zeus into abdicating his
throne."
 So far as I know, the king is not abdicating anything."
 But he will. When that spy says it's time, Zeus will leave, and our enemies
will move in without sacrificing a drop of blood."
 You're talking nonsense."
 Am I? Well, Ares will be home soon. We'll see what he has to say."
 What's that supposed to mean?"
 It means that some of us still care about Atlantis. We're not willing to
destroy it because some foreigner who claims to have magic powers tells
us to."
He wiped his hands on his tunic.  Fine," he said wearily.  Now if there's
nothing else, I have work to do."
She regarded him with disgust. For the first time, Hephaestus noticed the
fine lines around the corners of her mouth, the occasional glint of silver in
her abundant hair.
 You're not young anymore," he said with amazement. Her only gift had
been her beauty, and already it was fading.
Aphrodite's eyes flashed with anger.  Ape," she hissed as she turned
away.
As Sam ambled over to Hephaestus, he watched Aphrodite pick her way
awkwardly through the laborers on the docks.
 Your wife?" Sam asked.
 She was." Hephaestus felt ashamed of the catch in his voice.  A long
time ago."
Suddenly a man who was shimmying up Sam's newly set mast called out,
 Ships!"
On the shore, the supplicants praying to gods inside the death pyramid
bounded to their feet.  Ships! Ships!" They raced toward the docks, knocking
over the masts which stood waiting to be mounted, trampling the precious
handwoven sailcloth.  The crown prince has returned with the sacrifices!"
they shouted.  We are saved. Saved!"
 I was hoping we would be done before he got back," Hephaestus said
quietly to Sam.  Now, if an earthquake of any magnitude comes, they'll
have to choose between Hades's way and ours."
The crowd, shrieking and running like mainland savages, threw them 
selves into the water of the harbor, waving their arms wildly at the returning
ships, shouting through the tears that streamed down their faces that the
catastrophe had been averted and that the gods had taken pity on them.
 Bring the sacrifices," they screamed.  Let the temple run with blood for
the gods to feast on."
 I think they've already made their choice," Sam said.
And then the ground began to shake.
CHAPTER      13
IT WAS WORSE THAN THE OTHERS.
The earthquake lasted for nearly nine minutes. When it quieted, the city
of Olympus lay in ruins. The walls of ancient temples on the surrounding
hillsides had fallen in. Boulders had rolled loose from the volcano of Mount
Olympus and smashed into government buildings below. Whole sections
of the city were engulfed by fire. At first count, more than two hundred
people had died. The other cities on Atlantis were damaged just as badly.
More than twenty of Poseidon's newly rerigged ships were sunk at their
moorings when inundated by building-high waves. Forty others suffered
some sort of damage.
For the next twenty-four hours, Poseidon's seamen worked alongside
the fire patrols to dig through fallen rock and debris to retrieve the dead.
The twelve ships returning from the slaving expedition turned away at
the first sign of the quake. There was talk at first that the ships had sunk,
but Poseidon knew that the crewmen who manned the frigates could tell
the difference between the normal turbulence of rocky shoals and the wild
water that surrounded an island in the throes of earthquake.
Two days later, although most of the dead had been buried and the rubble
cleared, the city had not yet recovered. In the city squares, toppled statuary
lay bound in rags, awaiting the attention of workmen. The torso of Atlas,
first son of the Stranger, rose up, headless, from its ruined temple. A marble
likeness of the sea-god, Oceanus, lay half buried in broken stone.
Hephaestus surveyed the destruction around him. We will die here, he
thought, in this place which was supposed to bring the light of the universe
to the Earth. His eyes filled with tears.
Gods of my soul, how miserably we've failed.
Sam was in the fields with the zookeeper, Issa. He had seen the old man
struggling to splint the quake-broken leg of what appeared to be a lion cub.
The animal only a hundred pounds but already possessed of four-inch
fangs clawed and spat at the old man while he tried to set the bone.
 None but this one got hurt, bless me," Issa said, finishing the splint
while Sam held the cub still.  I suppose it's not much use fixing them up,
though. If we have to leave, there'll be no place on the ships for animals."
He turned his face to the sun and blinked.  I guess I've grown fond of
them." There were tears in the crinkles of his eyes.
 I think there's going to be a lot of water," Sam said.  And maybe not
just here."
The old man stared.  Is this a prophecy?" he asked meekly, bowing his
head to the man so many regarded as a wizard.
 No. It's . . . well, okay, yes. I think we're going to have a lot of flooding,
and I don't think you should leave all the animals behind. There might not
be any when you get where you're going."
Issa gasped and took a step backward.  You mean . . . the whole world . . ."
Sam touched his shoulder.  Issa, I have that boat that Poseidon gave me.
It's small, but it will carry many of your finest specimens. Build cages for
them. You can get the materials from the shipyard. If the worst happens,
you'll be ready."
 What animals would I take?"
 You'd know more about that than anyone else," Sam said.
Issa screwed up his face in thought.  Well, I do have this god."
 What?"
The old man looked suddenly flustered.  You won't tell the priests, will
you?"
Sam chuckled.  Not likely. Hades isn't exactly beating down my door to
make conversation with me."
 That's true enough," the old man considered.  Him and his priests are
telling people you made the earthquakes happen so everybody will leave
Atlantis and turn it over to you."
 Right. They probably believe him, too."
 Some do."
 So what about your god, Issa?"
He made a gesture for Sam to keep his voice down.  Slaves aren't supposed to have gods, but I've got one. He talks to me sometimes." He added
conspiratorially,  He's invisible."
 Ah."
 Tell you the truth, I don't even know for sure its a he. It's just this kind
of voice in my head. When I need to know something, really need it, I ask
him. And sometimes he answers." He grinned broadly.  So I think maybe
I'll ask the invisible god what animals I should take with me."
Sam nodded.  Sounds good."
 And I'll pray for you too, Nowar."
Sam smiled his thanks.
Even in a land of mind readers, some people were just plain nuts, Sam
thought as he walked back toward the harbor. The first of the expeditionary
ships was arriving, and the populace had gathered at the shore in welcome.
There were no cheers, though. The people who waited for the slave ships
wore expressions of despair as if their lives, along with their city, had fallen
to pieces.
While Poseidon was busy with the king, the expedition's command ship
sailed into harbor alone.
Ares was the first to walk down its ramp, looking about him in silent
incredulity at the damage the earthquake had wrought. The people, many
of them swathed in bandages, supported by sticks, their scars still crusted
with dried blood, bowed at his feet.
Suddenly Aphrodite ran through the immobile crowd, shrieking .  It was
his doing! The foreigner made the king lose faith!" Sobbing, she threw
herself at Ares's feet.  We were ordered to prepare to leave Atlantis, my
lord. To leave behind the bones of our ancestors, to turn our backs on the
gods themselves."
Ares stared at her, confused. What did he care for the bones of their
ancestors? He had eighteen hundred slaves in tow, and needed to get rid
of them. Then, behind her, he saw Hades emerge from a black palanquin.
The crowd immediately turned to the high priest, stretching out their
hands to him in supplication. Hades exchanged the briefest of glances with
Aphrodite before she melted quietly into the throng.
He had deliberately stayed away from the populace in the aftermath of
the earthquake, whetting their hunger for the sacrifices while the slave ships
remained at sea. The tremors had come in answer to his deepest prayers,
and at the most opportune time possible. It was his chance to make the
move he had been planning for more than forty years, and it was imperative
that he make the most of it.
His priests had been busy spreading rumors among the disheartened
populace about their weak-willed king and the barbarian who had turned
Zeus against his people and their gods. They painted a picture of Athena
as a wanton harlot who consorted with the enemy, and of Poseidon as a
senile dupe no longer capable of commanding the armed forces. To ensure
that none of the three would be present for this moment, Hades had sent
a priest with a message to Ares to bring in the expedition's flagship ahead
of schedule, at the hour when Poseidon always conferred with the king in
the palace.
Ares, too, if he had followed Hades's instructions, had played his part.
The contingent of fighting men sent with him on the expedition had included
all of Poseidon's most loyal commanders.
 How many casualties?" Hades asked the prince.
 More than a hundred." Ares's lips twitched.  Most of them officers."
Hades closed his eyes and let out his breath. At last his day was finally
coming to pass. He spoke so that all the multitude could hear his voice.
 Welcome home, future King of Atlantis!"
The noise of the crowd swelled into a deafening roar of welcome. Some
among them wept openly with gratitude as the first of Ares's troops swaggered down the gang plank to stand behind their leader.
Then Hades raised his hands for silence and cried,  Where is the enemy
spy who has visited this curse upon you?"
In the distance, the crowd writhed like a pit of snakes around the spot
where Sam had been working alongside Hephaestus. They shoved him

forward, kicking and spitting at him, until he landed on his knees in front
of the high priest.
 Is this true?" Hades demanded, each word ringing out in accusation,
 he had fixed the glare in his eye so that his face presented a perfect picture
of outraged justice. Slowly he lifted his arm, and from his long black sleeve
a bony finger pointed.  Have you persuaded King Zeus to abandon his
people and his country, as the Lady Aphrodite claims?"
 Of course it isn't," Hephaestus said, jostling through the crowd to reach
Sam, but the jeering of the closing mob drowned him out.
 Spy!" they shouted.
Hephaestus backed up, pushing Sam behind him.  What's the matter
with you people?" he shouted.
 The foreigner has brought evil with him!" someone screamed.
Quickly Hephaestus reached out for Sam's arm, but a hand in the closing
crowd snatched it away. The mob swarmed past Hephaestus to circle Sam
and engulf him, cursing him and tearing his clothes. Urged on by his neighbors, a fat farmer raised a stick.
 Stop!" Hephaestus screamed.  Don't kill him."
Hades halted the farmer with a gesture. The people fell aside silently as
the tall priest glided toward Sam.
Hades looked down at the dazed and bloodied face.  Your days as a
guest of the palace are over," he said, his voice low.  Your new quarters
will be among the kind of savages you represent." He turned to the cadre
of Ares's soldiers.  Take him to the temple of the true gods," he commanded,
then turned to the crowd as the soldiers grabbed Sam and lifted him over
their heads, his arms pulled behind him, his feet trussed up behind his back.
Hades spoke to a young priest who followed behind him like a shadow,
and the shadow carried the message to another black-robed shadow, who
brought it back to the galleon at the dock where another priest in a black
robe, his face invisible beneath his spread hood, cried out:  Bring forth the
sacrifices."
With the beating of drums they were led out, their hands tied with rope,
stumbling down the gangway, blinking in the fierce sunlight, marching
toward the Land of the Dead behind the soldiers who were carrying Sam.
Hephaestus moaned as he watched.
Then in the distance he saw Aphrodite, standing on a rock, her gossamer
robes blowing around her like the wind itself. The slaves passed before
her, not daring to look up at the vision of beauty.
But she was not watching them, nor the mob that followed. Her eyes
were fixed on Hephaestus, half-kneeling on the sand, his brown skin turned
ashen, a rivulet of blood trickling down the side of his face. Her lips curved
into a small smile.

chapter 14.


SAM sat ALONE AGAIN IN THE DARKNESS. SOMEWHERE BEYOND, HE COULD
hear the low murmur of voices.
He was in a small cubicle in the depths of the death pyramid. He had
been dragged into this black room past hundreds of men crowded together
in a vast, stinking outer chamber which he reasoned must be the holding
area for slaves.
They had all looked so different, he remembered. Some were very tall,
while others appeared to be almost miniature human beings. Some were
extraordinarily hairy, their arms long, their foreheads sloped back. Most
were dressed in skins, although a few wore fabric tunics or garments woven
of reeds. They spoke a babel of tongues.
But Sam knew they had one thing in common with each other, and with
him. They were all going to die.
The Great Sacrifice had begun. With each scream, as a slave's heart was
cut out by a sacrificial bronze knife, the voices inside the pyramid stilled
as these men, so different from one another, joined in mourning the fate
they would all share.
Sam leaned his head back against the cold stone. A few weeks ago, he
might have convinced himself that this, too, was part of the nightmare he
was experiencing. But he knew now that there was no hope of waking up
to find himself safe in a hospital bed. He had come to Atlantis through some
undersea window in time, and he would never be permitted to go back.
Athena, he thought, remembering her somber gray eyes. Athena had
warned him that his life would end here.
We cannot change the course of things to come.
Maybe he had known, somewhere deep in his mind, that he could not
change that course.
But he had never thought he would die so far from her.
Did he regret it, then? Was he sorry he had allowed Reba, offering to
bring him back to his own world, to slip away when he'd had the chance?
Sam turned his face to touch the damp wall. No, no regrets. For the
moment of love they had shared together, he had relinquished his existence
in two lifetimes.
But they had shared that moment.
 Athena," he whispered, and the name brought him comfort.
/Vthena stood proudly in the barge slowly making its way across the narrow
canal to the Land of the Dead. The sun reflected off her silver headband in
brilliant light.
 Why is she coming?" Ares asked nervously. He had stood beside the
high priest during the sacrifices as a symbol of the royal house. Since Hades's
dramatic welcome of the returning slave ships, the public knew that times
had changed. Zeus was a pariah to his own people; Ares would soon replace
him as king.
Hades smiled.  She's about to launch a protest, I imagine. The foreigner
is her lover, you know."
Ares looked up sharply.
 She'll want me to release him." He laughed softly.
 I don't see what's so funny," Ares said uncomfortably.  The king probably sent her."
 The king? What power does he wield? The kingdom he stole from me
is in ruins. The people hate him. The army belongs to you."
He watched the small boat reach the shore, its lone passenger standing
like a goddess.  Look at her," Hades said with scorn.  So arrogant, so sure
of herself." He descended the steps to await her arrival.  Come with me,
Ares," he said.  I think we should prepare a special welcome for the prin 
cess."
Athena walked up the long flight of stone steps which branched halfway
up the structure's side. One way led straight to the apex where the sacrifices
were being made; the other wound downward into the pyramid itself,
through a small door into a labrynth of corridors lit by smoky torches.
Hephaestus had designed this well, she noted. Without a single visible mark
on the exterior, the building was actually honeycombed with entrances and
stairways, leading in all directions.
Deep in the interior, in a spacious chamber that was dry despite the lack
of windows and the enormous stone wall blocks, she found Hades waiting
for her. His hands, she saw, were brown with dried blood. The odor of
death was strong on him.
 I have come to ask that you release Sam Nowar," she said without
preamble.
Hades did not answer for a moment, instead staring at her, his blue eyes
pale in the torchlight.
 It is not within your province to detain him," she reminded him.
He made a small gesture conveying his indifference.  In these times, the
law is of small moment."
 It is nevertheless the law."
 According to whom?" he bellowed with a sudden anger that made Athena's heart thump.  Your father, who no longer has even the respect of his
people? Let me tell you, Athena, they do not object to your lover's fate."
        
 The people have become a mob," Athena said.  A mob which follows
the loudest voice. Today that voice is yours. But what happens when the
earthquakes begin again? They will turn against you, just as they are turning
against Zeus "
 It is not my voice, but your father's own incompetence that has turned
the people against him," Hades said coldly.  Zeus was not meant to rule.
He stole the throne which was to have been mine."
Athena clasped her hands together, exasperated.  Uncle, that was so
long ago "
 Not to me!" Hades snapped.  Not to my descendants, who would become
gods of Atlantis were it not for the Stranger's blood that runs in your veins."
 Your descendants? You are a priest."
 I am the rightful king. And you will not usurp that right."
Athena frowned.  I?"
 The whole of Atlantis knows how you've plotted to take the crown from
Ares "
 That is not true," she said reasonably.  I am not the heir to the throne."
 You will be, if you have your way. The oracles predicted your coming.
In time, you will take the throne from him, just as Zeus took it from his
own father. And from me."
 Your oracles are never right," Athena said with contempt.  They said
the earthquakes would end if you sacrificed enough human blood. Well,
they haven't ended, and they're not going to end."
Hades narrowed his eyes.  Human blood," he said.  Perhaps that's it.
The slaves aren't human enough." He looked over at her.  But a royal
sacrifice may please the gods."
Athena stepped back slowly.  What are you saying?"
 First, the foreigner will be sacrificed," Hades said calmly.  Then you,
for your designs on the crown. By then, the populace will have grown used
to the idea." He smiled.  They'll accept the spectacle of the king on the
altar."
 The king!" Athena gasped.  You dare not!"
 Only by your deaths will the gods be satisfied."
She raised herself up to her full height.  So that you will ascend the
throne. That's what all of this is about, isn't it? Simple regicide?"
 Ares," the high priest called.
The young soldier entered and looked hesitantly toward Athena.  Yes,
lord."
 My lady wishes to see the enemy spy."
 Very well," Ares said.  I'll take her to him."
 See that she remains with him."
The soldier smiled cruelly.  Yes, lord."
He reached for her, but Athena slapped his hand away.  How can you
serve him, Ares?" she asked with disgust.  Hades means to take the throne.
After he eliminates me and our father, do you not believe he will come after
you, the king's eldest son?"
 But he is not Zeus's son, Athena," Hades said smoothly.  He is mine."

Athena's eyes met those of Ares. The young man's face was blank with
astonishment.
 Take her," the high priest commanded.
Sam had almost fallen asleep when he heard the voice.
How many hours he had spent in that utter darkness, he did not know,
but the screams of the dying, at regular intervals, had ceased to turn his
blood cold with fear. As he began to drowse, Sam felt a terrible guilt settle
over him because the death- screams were becoming no more than meaning 
less noise to him, the equivalent of a jackhammer drumming on a city street.
He ached at his own callousness.
And then he heard it, sharp and clear, hurting him like a knife slicing
through his brain.
Got to come home, Sam.
He sat bolt upright, inhaling, smelling suddenly the very dust motes in
the dry still chamber.
 Reba!"
I can hear you, honey. Can you find your way back?
 I don't know."
Well, you got to try. Something's going to happen and you got to be here
for it.
 What? What's going to happen?"
Come home, Sam. Come home.
Her voice was faint, dispersing.  Reba? Reba? Talk to me. I need you."
There was no answer.  No, don't go!" Sam was shouting, beating at the
stone walls of the chamber.
Quietly, she spoke again.
It's a puzzle.
 What is?" he whispered.
A picture. Can you see it?
 I can't see anything ."
Close your eyes, Samb. It's a picture. It'll take you out, bring you
home . . . Her voice was fading. Look, just look. . . .
The silence hung about him like cobwebs. Sam pressed his face against
the cold stone. His head was pounding.
Look? At what?
She had said there was a picture, a puzzle. He tried to think. High above,
the muffled scream of a slave cut through the stillness.
Sam threw his hands over his eyes.  Stop it," he cried.  For God's sake."
The heavy metal door swung open. At once Sam was assaulted with
sensation: the faint glow of light from torches in a distant corridor, the
shadowy figures of the slaves in the adjoining chamber, the odor of their
sweat and their fear, their voices, once a vague blur of sound rumbling in
agitation, now separate and distinct.
And then Athena stood in the doorway, framed by a faint glowing light.
Ares threw her roughly to the floor.  Take your whore," he growled.
After slamming the door behind him, Ares leaned against it, still stunned
by the impact of Hades's words.
He is not Zeus's son. He is mine.
Hades's son!
In a single sentence his birthright had been swept away like soiled straw.
He was not the crown prince. He was the bastard son of the high priest.
And he would never be king.
Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he saw a big slave lunging toward
him, his fingers spread like claws.
Ares welcomed the attack. He drew his dagger and brought it down with
a wild zeal, slicing the man's chest half open with the thrust. Then, with a
scream of rage, he whirled around and slashed another prisoner's throat
purely for the sense of release it gave him.
 Anyone else?" he shouted. His face was twisted in a grimace of fury.
 Come, fight me, you stinking animals. The bastard Ares waits to slaughter
you."
He threw himself toward the press of bodies again, thrusting wildly with
his dagger, sinking it into any flesh he could find while the slaves screamed
and then, finally, began to tear at him.
 Yes, kill me and I'll kill you," he panted, feeling his face slick with
blood.  That's what we're for. That and nothing else."
In the melee, the dagger was taken from him. Then the slaves parted
until Ares was faced by only one man, a big mainlander dressed in a tattered
cloth that wound around his loins. In his hand was Ares's own knife.
 In the heart, beast," Ares taunted.  It will only make my death official."
There was a sudden light. The slave looked up, startled, and in the
lantern's glow a spear flew straight into the man's neck and hurled him
backward. A squad of soldiers rushed into the chamber.
 We heard the noise, sir," one said.
 Get me out of this hole," Ares croaked.

chapter 15.


AT MIDNIGHT, HADES CAME TO HIM.
 The screaming's stopped," Ares said.  Too bad. I was getting used to
hearing them."
 What on Earth possessed you in the slave chamber?" Hades hissed.  You
killed five of the sacrifices."
Ares burst out laughing.
 Was it because of what I told you of your lineage?"
 What? That you're my father and not Zeus? That I'm not the rightful heir
to the throne? Why should that upset me?" He laughed again.
 You are the rightful heir," Hades shouted.  I was the rightful king. /
was the eldest son. /was trained to wear the crown. And my birth was not
in question."
Ares furrowed his brow.  Was Zeus's?" he asked.
 Oh, surely you have heard that story," Hades snapped.  There has been
speculation about Zeus's birth for decades."
 They say Rhea had him in the woods," Ares recalled.
 Quite. She claimed to have seen a vision of doom for her unborn child,
so she fled the palace to spawn him like an animal in the forest." He curled
his lip.  Rather convenient, I'd say, considering that King Cronus had already
approached the priests about sacrificing the infant."
 A royal sacrifice?" Ares was astonished.  Back then? But the earthquakes
weren't even that bad sixty years ago, were they?"
 It wasn't a question of earthquakes, but of parentage," Hades explained
disdainfully.  Everyone at court knew that the queen was in love with
Prometheus. Why my father didn't just have her and her treasonous lover
executed, I'll never know. At any rate, there was no witness to the birth,
so no one saw if she exchanged the baby for some peasant brat in order
to save Prometheus's bastard."
He sighed.  And of course, once she brought him to the king, Cronus
had reconsidered and accepted Zeus with open arms. Even when Zeus
started to exhibit that freakish ability he calls the Power, Cronus was too
besotted with him to admit the boy wasn't his own son." He laughed mirthlessly.  I'll wager my father went to his grave wishing he had gone through
with the sacrifice while he had the chance."
 We'll take care of that for him," Ares said stolidly.  Imagine, a peasant
bastard sitting on the throne of Atlantis."
Absently, Hades scraped some dried blood from the dagger beside Ares's
bed.  And so you see, your claim to the throne is thoroughly legitimate.
But in order to secure it for you, I had to work for a lifetime." The memory
brought bile to his mouth.  That was the bargain I struck with Zeus." punishment?" Hades had asked incredulously when Zeus came to visit
him in the priests" temple after his coronation.  What do you mean, there
must be a punishment?"
 You tried to kill the king," the young ruler explained.  It is a capital
offense."
Hades exploded at him.  You wet-nosed pup! I let you steal the crown
of Atlantis from me! Is that not punishment enough?"
Zeus ignored the insult.  When the people were calling for your death,
I permitted a slave to be sacrificed in your place," he had said.  But that
does not end your guilt."
 By the gods," Hades sighed.  Do you forget that you are my own
brother?"
 No, I do not forget. But neither can I forget that I am king, and responsible
for law." He took a deep breath.  For this reason, I must command that
you remain here, as a priest, for the rest of your life."
 What? You must be mad!"
 It will not be a bad existence, Hades," Zeus said, half in apology.  I
have thought it through carefully. The priests are exempt from our laws.
So long as you are one of them, no one can accuse you of treason."
 You could pardon me," Hades said crisply.
The young king shook his head.  I will not begin my reign in corruption.
Not even for you."
Hades had shuddered in despair.  But priests are not permitted to wed.
What of my wife, Persephone? She is with child."
 She will be treated as your widow," Zeus said.  According to custom,
a woman who loses her husband must be cared for by the dead man's
family. I will take responsibility for Persephone and the child."
Hades considered the offer for some time in silence. Finally he asked,
 How much responsibility?"
Zeus looked at him questioningly.
 If the child is a boy, will you make him your heir?"
This had stunned the King.  But I have not even married. It would not
be seemly "
 As you yourself have said, little brother, you must not forget that you
are the king. You can name whomever you please to succeed you."
Zeus paced the small temple cell.
 You owe me this much," Hades said.  Were it not for my actions, you
would not wear the crown today."
 Your actions! The council had advised me to have you executed for
your actions!" the young king shouted.
 I see. Then listen to them, by all means. They will be pleased to tell
you how much they have each stolen from the treasury. They will gladly
allow you to administer their lands, oversee their appointments, watch their
plots against you. I'm sure they will advise you well." His eyes were hard.
 They know that you are young and completely inexperienced. They look
forward to your reign as an era of wild abandon for their greed."
Zeus felt deflated.  How can I stop them?"
 I will stop them for you," Hades said.  And as a priest who possesses
no private property, I will serve Atlantis without thought for personal gain.
You will never look at me and question my dedication to you and our
country. All I ask in return is that my dynasty sit on the throne, in your
name. It is a small price, I think."
Zeus had paid that price. And it was a pittance for what he had received
in return.
Hades had worked ceaselessly for four decades providing a solid back 
ground for Zeus's flashy popularity. It was he who had met through endless
hours with Zeus's ministers, who had examined each provincial office for
signs of corruption, who had quelled a thousand small rebellions before
they required military action. It was Hades who had agonized over the daily
problems of Atlantis, while Zeus was lauded for his perfect rule. And in the
end, when they were both dead and their bones crumbled to dust, Hades
would be forgotten, a faceless priest whose name had vanished, while Zeus
would be proclaimed an immortal god until the end of time.
How Hades hated his brother.
You will be king," he said now, looking at Ares.  I have sealed that bargain
with my life."
The young man clenched his fists.  And Zeus would take it from me,"
he said bitterly.  A bastard and his daughter, born in exile to a deposed
queen, and a lying mainland savage." He shook his head.
 None of them will live out the week," Hades said consolingly.  And
none of their blood will ever rule again."
In the small cell, Sam held Athena in his arms.  Hades won't hurt you," he
said.  He wouldn't dare."
Athena said nothing, but Sam could sense her thoughts. Hades no longer
cared if he offended the king. Through Ares, the army was his. Zeus had
no more power.
 How did he let it slip away from him?" he wondered aloud.
 He was afraid to use the Stranger's gift," she said.  And now Zeus is
like an elk felled by yapping dogs. The vermin have come to power now."
 Suddenly she sucked in her breath.  What was that?"
Sam's head felt as if it had been split open with an axe.
The picture, Sam.
Athena jerked backward.  Whose voice is that?"
Sam ran his hand through his hair.  Someone from . . . my time. She
wants me to find a picture. She says it's the way out of here."
 A picture?"
 I don't know what she's talking about."
 Sam!"
She took his hand and pulled it over her shoulder, to the wall she had
been leaning against.
There he felt it, there beneath his fingertips, chiseled into the stone: a
circle inscribed with a cross.
 Hephaestus would have thought of a way out," Athena whispered.
Sam scrabbled with his hands over the surface of the immense stone
block.  But these are too big," he said.  They couldn't move.   ." He
chuckled.  You crazy black devil."
The stone on which the emblem had been chiseled was not the same
size as the others. It was no more than twelve inches wide and two feet
high. Sam stood and began pressing against the stone, but even with all his
weight against it, it would not move. Finally he lay flat on his back on the
floor and extended his arms over his head until they touched the far wall.
Then, bracing his feet against the block containing the symbol, he pushed
with all the strength in his legs.
The stone moved.
 Sam
 "Just follow me."
It only moved a short distance, perhaps eighteen inches straight back.
Sam looked beyond it, but could see nothing. Still, he crawled through the
opening headfirst. There was room to stand on the other side of the stone.
He waited there for Athena, then pulled her through.
 Are you all right?" he whispered.
 Yes. We must replace the stone perfectly."
Together they moved the heavy block back into place, then sat in the
pitch blackness of this second chamber.
After a moment Athena began searching the walls for another emblem
chiseled into the stone.
 Are you so sure Hephaestus would have planned an exit?" Sam asked,
feeling along the lower stones.
 Yes. He designed this as a tomb for the bodies of the ancient kings, the
greatest treasure of our people. Once that treasure was in place, it would
have been too easy for Hades to seal the architect in with it, to protect its
secrets."
 So he made sure he could always get out," Sam said.
 My brother Hephaestus is not a fool."
 No. And here's the mark to prove it."
The second stone was higher, almost at waist level. Sam leaned his shoulder against it. Some thin retaining mortar broke loose and the stone slid
silently on tiny metal balls until it fell with a thud into the next chamber.
 Let's go," Sam said.


chapter 16.


WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE WONT SEE ME?"
The courtier trembled.  I'm sorry, Lord Poseidon.  We have instructions
that the king is not to be disturbed by anyone." He nodded over his shoulder
toward two soldiers guarding the door to the king's chambers. Poseidon
recognized neither of them.
 But . . ." Poseidon snapped his jaw closed. He was not about to whine
in front of a palace underling. He turned on his heel and stomped out of
the palace.
Up ahead he saw the harbor, guarded now by a ring of heavily armed
soldiers. They had already been there when Poseidon and his seamen had
marched to the docks to welcome the homecoming troops.
When he asked a smirking young officer who had stationed them there,
the man had replied,  Ares."
 Ares?" Poseidon had roared.  Who do you think is commander of this
harbor?"
 Ares, sir," the young officer had answered languidly.
 Diaclo!" he shouted. There was no response.  Where is Diaclo, whom
I placed in charge of the second phalanx?"
 Dead, sir," the officer replied.
 Sodalus?"
 Dead on campaign."
Poseidon narrowed his eyes.  Celmus?"
 Dead."
He stared levelly at the man.  They're all dead, aren't they," he said
finally.  Ares has had you kill every last one of my commanders."
The officer stared straight ahead, but there was a gleam in his eye that
Poseidon had to struggle to keep from extinguishing with his fists. It was
then that he heard the scream from the first of Hades's slaves as the heart
was torn out of him. In the distance, he saw Ares's plumed helmet beside
the black robes of Hades atop the death pyramid.
Filled with shame and impotent rage, Poseidon had gone immediately
to Zeus, but it seemed the king, too, was now under the control of the new
army.
He ran up a flight of stairs and burst into Athena's apartment. Her maidservant shuffled up to him, her face swollen with tears.  She has gone, my
lord."
 Gone? Where?"
Iris wailed and covered her face with her hands.
 Speak, woman!" Poseidon shouted impatiently.  Your histrionics aren't
helping anything."
 To the priests" pyramid," she sputtered.  To free the foreigner."
 What? Why the devil would she do that?"
 Sire, I don't "
 Never mind. When did she go?"
 At sunset, my lord. Will you help her?"
Poseidon let out a sound that resembled a growl.  I'll try. But if she's
gone to Hades's temple, she's just walked into the lion's mouth."
Iris started wailing anew. He closed the door on her.
Mad, he thought. The whole kingdom has gone mad. Ares had usurped
command of the army, Hades had seized control of the populace with his
bloodbath extravaganzas, the king was a captive in his own palace, and the
princess Athena had sailed willingly to her death.
Poseidon spat on the ground. This was not the Atlantis where he had
grown up, playing in the waves of its ocean, abundant with life and wonder,
where he had raced his wild horses, where he had read since childhood of
heroes and their deeds of glory in the sheltering walls of Olympus. This
was an ugly, alien place where people lived in misery and fear and had
forgotten all they had learned about civilization. Here, a man's dying scream
provided all the excitement of which his people were capable.
 Damn you all," he whispered.  Damn you all."
He stalked to the stables. Issa was busy nailing crates together on the deck
of the small boat that the foreigner had rebuilt. When the slave saw him,
he rushed over to help Poseidon with the white stallion.
 I can mount my own steed," Poseidon barked as he clambered atop the
stamping horse.  What are you doing with that boat?" he asked as a cranky
afterthought.
The old man grinned.  It's for your creatures, sir," he answered.  Nowar
gave it to me." His wrinkled face seemed to slump.  He been took by the
priests," he said.
 I know. You think you'll need that boat?"
 Nowar told me I would, and I do believe him, lord. I don't want the
animals to die. If we have to leave Atlantis, somebody'll have to take care
of them."
Poseidon could not help but smile.  You're a good man, Issa, but you
don't know anything about sailing."
 I'll trust in the god."
 Which one?" Poseidon said.
 It depends on who's asking, sir," the old man said evasively.  They all
seem to work well enough for them that believe."
Poseidon sat back on his steed, his vision momentarily blurred.  I  wish
I had your faith."
He started away, then turned about.  How long have you been my slave,
Issa?"
 Since Queen Metis left, sir." He bowed his head.  I was free before
that."
The sailor felt an ache in his heart for the old man. When the decree
came to again enslave the foreign-born citizens of Atlantis whom Metis had
freed during her reign, Poseidon had been at sea. He had never given a
thought to how Issa or any of his other slaves had come to be his property.
 As I recall, Issa isn't even your name."
The old man smiled.  It was the name of the stable master I worked
under. When he died, you gave the name to me."
Poseidon winced.  That was pretty callous of me."
 No, sir. I don't recall having another name, anyway. Least not now."
Slowly Poseidon dismounted.  Do you have ink and paper?" he asked.
 Parchment, sir, inside the barn," said Issa, puzzled.  For keeping
accounts of the feed."
Poseidon brushed past him into the barn. When the old man followed
him inside, he was writing with Issa's brush.  That's your freedom," he said,
handing the documents to Issa.  Give it to one of the palace clerks." He
climbed back onto the stallion.  Choose a new name for yourself, too," he
said.
The old man stared at the parchment with wonder.  Yes, lord." His
toothless grin was as bright as the sun.
Poseidon held up a hand in salute.  Safe journey to you and your ship,"
he said before riding away.
Hephaestus peered out one of the foundry's windows. It was dark enough
now to leave.
Outside, where the canal waters rolled gently by the heavy metal furnaces,
he struggled to put a small boat into the water.
He would approach the death pyramid from the north, where no ships
ever came. There were a thousand ways into and out of the structure as
long as there were no guards to see him.
And if there were?
Hephaestus checked the dagger in his belt. He had never been much of
a fighter, but if he had to kill one of Ares's soldiers to free Sam, he would.
He stepped into the small flat-bottomed boat and prepared to untie it
from the dock. Just then he saw Poseidon, arms akimbo, staring down at
him.  Where are you going?" the sailor asked.
Hephaestus waffled. Poseidon could have him hanged for what he was
planning to do. He took a deep breath.  To the Land of the Dead," he
answered honestly.
 Can you get inside the pyramid?"
 I can."
Poseidon looked toward the island, a small dim speck from here, then
back to Hephaestus.  Move over," he said.  I'm going with you."
They moored the boat at the rocky north shore and climbed hand over
hand to reach the cliff edge where the pyramid stood.
 Stay low," Poseidon said as he dropped to his belly.  The moon is our
enemy tonight."
They crawled for some distance before Poseidon grabbed Hephaestus's
tunic to stop him.  Soldiers," he hissed.  They're on patrol. We'll wait here
and see how long each of their rounds are." He moved back into a shallow
ravine. Hephaestus followed him, sitting back and wiping the dead grass
off his hair.
 A fine fix this is," Poseidon said.  When a crazed priest and a make 
believe soldier can abduct a royal princess and neither the king nor I have
anything to say about it."
 The princess? Athena?" Hephaestus asked, stunned.
 What'd you think this was about? That sail-rigging foreigner?"
 Well, yes," Hephaestus admitted.
Poseidon's eyebrows knitted.  You mean you were coming here in the
dead of night to free a legitimate slave?"
 He isn't a slave. He was taken without right "
 Oh, never mind." Poseidon waved him down.
Hephaestus studied the old sailor's face.  If Hades has taken Athena,
why aren't you here with a battalion?"
 Can't reach them," Poseidon grumbled.  Ares has taken over the army.
The only people I have that I know are loyal are my sailors, and the little
bastard's sealed off the harbor."
 What about the king?"
 I think they've got him under house arrest in the palace." He noted the
black man's horrified expression.  I couldn't very well storm the throne
room by myself," he muttered.  If I had any sense, I'd be with my men
instead of trying to get Athena out, but Hades is likely to kill her unless
someone acts quickly."
 He'd kill you, too," Hephaestus said.  He'd never allow you near your
men." He looked up at the waxing moon.  If Hades and Ares control all of
Atlantis, what are we going to do once we get Sam and Athena out of here?"
Poseidon gave a rueful laugh.  I was hoping to come up with something."
He sighed.  There are no laws anymore. Earthquake or not, I'm afraid this
might be the end, my friend."
Hephaestus looked at the ground, but Poseidon slapped him heartily on
the back.  So we might as well have one last run, don't you think?"
The black man smiled lopsidedly.  I wish you had a better fighter on
your side than me," he admitted.  There are more soldiers around the
pyramid than I'd anticipated."
Poseidon raised an eyebrow.  Not so many. Twelve I've counted three
four-man patrols, coming by every three minutes or so. Add in another four
inside the pyramid   . no more than sixteen men."
 Three minutes," Hephaestus considered.  That's awfully tight. I can't
run fast."
 Then it's a good thing I'm here." Poseidon got up into a crouch.
 What are you doing?" Hephaestus squeaked.  The guards are coming."
 I'm giving you another minute or two. When they take me, run like your
ass is on fire. And bring Athena out alive."
Then he stood up and walked toward the pyramid.
When the next patrol appeared, Poseidon was standing in a field of wild
grass, his trident held aloft. In the moonlight, he looked like a bearded
deity rising from the foaming waves of the sea.
The soldiers hesitated, looked at one another, then walked slowly toward
the apparition.  Who goes?" one asked timidly.
 It is Poseidon," he answered. The young soldiers immediately saluted,
their faces pale and frightened in the eerie silver moonlight.
 Take me to the priest, my brother Hades," he said.  And do it speedily,
or you'll find yourselves on that bloody altar of his."
The four men hastened to escort him to the front and only known 
entrance to the pyramid, while other soldiers joined the growing entourage
as they neared.
None of them saw the lone black man limping to the rear of the pyramid,
where the boats of Charon, the ferryman, bobbed on the canal that wound
around the island. No one saw Hephaestus slip onto the algae-covered rocks
behind the oldest of the canal boats and lift a ring of iron which opened
an underground stairway. No one, in the confusion of Poseidon's entrance,
heard the soft steps of a man in a narrow passageway which roamed the
entire structure, a passageway which led nowhere unless one understood
the key to its design.
What is it?" Hades murmured low, his eyes red-rimmed and his breath
foul.
 I've come for my niece."
Hades blinked once, lazily.  Your niece? Not your army?"
 The, army will be mine again soon enough," Poseidon said.
The high priest broke into laughter.  Are you too stupid to know that
your life is forfeit among the army, you corrupt old fool?"
 Corrupt? You're the one who murdered my commanders, you and your
evil spawn!"
 Your commanders were as worthless as you, Poseidon. For years, you
all pretended there were no slaves to be had. But we picked them like
berries from a bush."
 Slaves," Poseidon spat.  That's all that concerns you, Hades. Are you
so little a man that you cannot feel safe with anyone who is not in chains?"
Hades rolled his eyes and waved his brother away like an annoying fly.
 I will not leave without Athena."
 I'm afraid that won't be possible," Hades said.  The citizenry has already
been informed of a royal virgin sacrifice to appease the gods. I'm afraid
she'll have to stay until morning." He smiled.
Poseidon leaped at him, unable to contain himself any longer. Hades
had anticipated the move. With a crook of his finger he signaled a pair of
armed guards to intercept his brother.
 I imagine you'd like to see her before she dies," the priest said calmly
as he led the way below to the cells.
In the main chamber, the new slaves parted fearfully as the door opened
pressing themselves against the walls. But when Poseidon entered, the  
silence gave way to astonished murmurs.
 The King of the Sea!" someone whispered loud enough to carry through
the stone chamber.
 It is Poseidon. . . ."
 Poseidon. . . ."
 Poseidon. . . ."
Some of them fell prostrate, bowing their heads in obeisance. Poseidon
recognized some of the faces of the mainlanders with whose villages Atlantis
had once traded peaceably, before the days of the slaving expeditions.
 Could there be a better argument for your treason than this?" Hades
scoffed.  These savages consider you one of them."
He signaled for a guard to open the door to the next chamber.  Who
orchestrated it all, Poseidon? You? Zeus? The foreigner? Did you plan the
abandonment of our country together? Or were you just a puppet?"
When Poseidon did not deign to answer, Hades pushed open the next
chamber door.  It's no matter. You're all where you belong now " He
looked about frantically.  What is this?" he breathed.
The small room was empty. One of the guards lifted his lantern in all
four corners, but there was no trace of Athena or Sam Nowar.
 Sorcery!" Hades seethed.
In the next chamber, a low buzz of excitement traveled around the vast
room.
 Guards!" the high priest called.  Guards, come at once!"
The slaves fell silent as a dozen soldiers clattered down the stairs, their
weapons drawn. They found Hades quivering with rage.
 Take this man outside and lock him in irons," he rasped.  You're going
to tell me what you know about this, Poseidon."
The soldiers hesitated. Poseidon was no ordinary criminal. Even the very
youngest had heard tales of his feats at sea and his compassion for the men
who served him. But when Hades snapped his head around angrily, one
guard stepped forward and pushed the point of a spear against the old
man's back.  Yes, sir," he shouted to the priest.
Hades swept past them in a fury and rushed toward the stairs, his robes
billowing behind him.
 We're obliged to follow orders, sir," the guard told Poseidon in a small
voice.
Poseidon fixed him with a glare.  Not from madmen."
The tip of the guard's spear quivered, then poked into Poseidon's back
so hard it drew blood. The old sailor appeared not to notice. He walked
forward, his carriage straight, his head high.
The slaves parted in silence to let him pass. One gave him the Atlantean
salute, a mark of respect which Poseidon himself had always accorded the
residents of the mainland villages he visited. One by one, each slave took
up the salute, right arm extended, ending in a closed fist.
When Poseidon and his armed escort left and the slaves were again left
in darkness, they remained standing, their arms still upraised 
				CHAPTER      17
SAM   and ATHENA PASSED THROUGH EIGHT OTHER CHAMBERS AS EMPTY
and dark as the one in which they had been held prisoner before Sam felt
the shape of a lamp in the middle of the otherwise unbroken stone wall.
 There's flint, too," he said excitedly.
Athena hurried over to him, her hands feeling along the smooth stone.
 Give it to me," she said.  I don't imagine you're very experienced at using
flint."
He handed it over to her, their hands cradling the precious stone. A spark
flashed, and then the wick burst into a tiny flame that seemed so bright
they both had to turn their eyes away from it.
Then they saw the rest of the chamber, glowing softly in its opulence.
There was a chaise of pure gold with cushions of lapis blue; an alabaster
table inlaid with sparkling cut gems of all hues; a chest made of a red metal,
banded with silver and gold; a large painted wood mask; urns and vases
of translucent stone, giving off the faint scent of rare oils; and, in the center
of the room, an enormous sarcophagus bearing the astonishingly lifelike
image of a man in old age, with flowing white hair and large, wise eyes.
A gold plaque beneath the face read OCEANUS .
Athena gave a little gasp.  Why, King Oceanus has been dead so long,
he is all but a legend. It's hard to believe this is where he's really buried."
She touched the gold-bordered coffin gently.  Hephaestus knew of this, yet
said nothing."
 He knows a lot of things," Sam said. He raised the lamp to the plaque.
Beneath the ancient king's name were details of his deeds in the long-ago
time when Atlantis was still young.
 He built the first great ships to cross the ocean," Athena said, smiling
as she read. Then her eyes met Sam's, and slowly she melted into his arms.
 Is it all gone now?" she whispered.  All to be destroyed by Hades and his
hatred. . . ."
Sam swallowed.  We've got to find the next door," he said.
Each burial chamber was more fabulous than the last, and for the first time
Sam understood the stories the Atlanteans told about the proliferation of
genius during the early years after the Stranger's arrival.
In the tomb of Atlas, they found chairs with complex mechanisms which
permitted them to change shape, as well as a global map of the Earth, a
wall painting that showed the planets in orbit around the sun, and in a
corner of the room, a compass not much different from the one Sam had
worn on his wrist when he first came ashore in this strange land.
 Who would have thought the old tombs held such wonders," Athena
said.  Hephaestus and his forge workers dug all this out of an underground
rubbish heap."
Sam examined the compass.  But hasn't anyone ever seen these treasures?"
 Oh, the priests must have. Each room has a door." She pointed to the
gilt-encrusted portal in Atlas's chamber.
 But the moving stones . . ."
 I don't think Hephaestus told anyone about those."
Sam felt a frisson of uncertainty.  Maybe they weren't his idea," he said.
 They might be a trap."
Athena examined the wall carefully, going over it with her fingertips.  In
any case, I prefer it to that dank cell." She found the symbol again and
pushed the stone.
The passageway was long, longer than any of the others, and was made
of metal. Athena and Sam crawled at an agonizingly slow pace through the
suffocating heat until they finally reached a block of stone. Sam pushed
against it, hoping fervently that they had finally reached an exit to the
outside.
Nothing happened.
 Oh, no," he moaned.
 What is it?"
Sam pushed again, harder this time, bracing his feet against the sides of
the shaft. There was no movement, not the slight shift of rock he felt with
the stone in the first chamber, nothing. He lowered his hands in despair.
 Then it was a trap," Athena said tonelessly.
 Damn it!" His anger made him lurch upward, striking his head against
the low ceiling of the tunnel. Stars sprang to his eyes.
And the ceiling moved.
 What in hell . . ." He felt tentatively above his head. The metal was
dented. As he pressed against the dent, he felt it bang loosely under his
fingers. He pushed gently to the left. The panel swung away.
Above the panel was a space of about six inches and then a flat stone
surface. Sam positioned himself into a low squat and pressed upward with
his back against the overhead stone. It moved easily. He hoisted himself
up, helped pull Athena after him, then replaced both the metal panel and
the stone.
 I've known tricky minds before, but your brother Hephaestus has got
to be "
The words caught in his throat. As they turned toward what they thought
was the center of the darkened room, they saw a strange glowing, green
light forming the shape of a lozenge.
 It's a coffin," Athena said.
They both scrambled to find the lamp. Athena located it first, in the far
corner of this room which was vastly larger than the others. When the flame
caught, they both looked around in wonder.
Every inch of the walls was covered with writing.
There was nothing in the chamber besides the sarcophagus. It was made
of some black iridescent metal and banded with gold on either side of the
infinitesimal crack through which the green glow came.
 There are no doors here," Athena said with quiet excitement.  Hades
has never been in this room."
Sam frowned, his eyes fixed on the glowing casket.  Hephaestus sealed
it from everyone except . . . himself."
Athena held the lamp aloft, studying the writing. " The effect must be
envisioned, " she read, squinting.   And must be desired by all. " She
moved on.  Somewhere there must be a beginning to all this writing."
Sam was paying only half-hearted attention. His eyes were riveted on
the sarcophagus. It glowed with the same light as the Eye of Zeus, the
diamond he himself had found millenia in the future.
 Here it is!" Athena called. She looked back at him with delight.  Listen
to this, Sam.  I who write this am nameless among those with whom I have
made my home. My journey was long. This place, which I have named
Atlantis after a children's story in my own land, was not my destination,
although I now know that it was my destiny.   .  " She turned to him.
 Sam," she said in a hushed voice,  this is the tomb of the Stranger."
Her eyes were sparkling with wonder, but the gleam left them when she
saw what he was doing.  Sam, don't. You mustn't.   ."
She might as well have told him to stop his heart from beating. The casket
drew him to it like a magnet. When he placed his hands upon it, a sensation
like electric shock coursed through his body, making his eyes close and his
lips open, gasping for air.
 Sam . . ."
Tears streamed down his face; his hands trembled.
Quickly Athena replaced the lamp on its holder and rushed toward him,
but by then he had already slid open the lid of the sarcophagus. The green
light flooded the room and washed over Sam as his heart thudded wildly
in his chest. He stared and moaned, low and long.
The body inside the coffin was not human.
Athena clasped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Sam
stood transfixed, his hands hovering over the corpse as if he were warming
them in its radiance.
The Stranger had been taller than any man either of them had ever seen,
easily over eight feet. His skin was pale to the point of blueness, and he
had no bodily hair whatever. The orbs around his eyes were high and
arched. The nose was very thin, almost like a beak. There were no lips, no
teeth merely an opening in the mask of the face, a slit, like the slits of his
ears, surrounded by a network of veins close to the skin. His neck was
slender, yet supported a head shaped rather like a lightbulb, swelling above
his ears.
And yet, though the individual features may have seemed grotesque, the
overall effect of the mummy if that was what it was, since it was so perfectly
preserved it looked as if it might sit up at any moment was one of gentle 
ness and calm.
Athena lowered her hands to look again.  A woman made love with
him," she said wonderingly.
His hands were folded over his belly and covered with a cloth woven
with exquisite refinement. Tentatively, Athena reached out a hand to the
cloth. It fell apart at her touch, and she drew away.
Beneath the disintegrated cloth rested the Stranger's hands. They were
long and slender, spatulate at the tips, their fine bones standing out in relief.
Sam touched them gently.
You must lead them now, a voice inside him said.
Sam trembled wildly.
 Sam? Are you all right?"
There is so much yet to teach them.
 But they're going to die," Sam answered aloud.  And I'm going to go
with them."
 Sam!" Athena said frantically. She touched Sam's face, his forehead.
They were cold. She leaned her head against his shoulder. There was no
link between them, none of the communication that had till then flowed so
freely between their minds.  Sam, who are you talking to?"
These people have their own destiny, and it is entwined with yours. But
you must take the next step. You must begin it again.
Listen-. I who write this am nameless . . .
For two hours he remained motionless, clasping the hands of the alien
corpse. Sweat poured off Sam's face; he shivered as if suffering from cold.
Only his  lips moved, repeating in a whisper ever word he was hearing.
"  We can change the course of things to come, " Sam said, repeating each
word of the message pouring into his mind from the being in the coffin. " The
Power is to be used by all, together. Envision and desire one thing above all
else, each of you in the deepest recesses of your spirit. . . .  "
 What are you saying?" Athena sobbed, then sat back on her heels in despair,
watching the man she loved rant while he clutched the dead body of a monster.
He had lost his mind. She was alone now, in the core of the pyramid, with
no way out except the tortured route which had led her here, and that would
only take her back to a cell where an executioner waited. She turned away.
What did it matter now, she thought finally, straightening her back like the
princess she was. Here was as good a place to die as any other. Here, where
they had found the strange heart of Atlantis and she had lost her love to it.
"  In the other realm, we appear as we are truly, because we do not possess
the trappings of flesh, or the fears that come of that flesh.
Sam's voice was hoarse and raw. Saliva trickled from a corner of his mouth.
Ob, my love, she thought wearily. How could I have done this to you?
She had nearly closed her eyes to sleep when she saw the ceiling open.
Her first instinct was to use the oil lamp as a weapon. Whoever had come
for them would not leave without an injury of his own. A pair of legs dangled
for a moment, and Athena took aim.
The man dropped in front of her. It was Hephaestus.
She lowered the lamp and threw her arms around him, but he was staring
at Sam and the creature in the coffin.
 Can you get us out of here?" Athena asked.
Hephaestus swallowed hard and turned to face her.  Yes, but we have
to move fast. Poseidon's used himself as bait to distract the guards."
 What will they do to him?"
He exhaled heavily.  I don't know. But it was what he wanted. You're
to get out alive, Athena. That was his order to me." He grabbed her around
the waist and thrust her upward into the hole in the ceiling.
 But Sam "
 I'll get him. Wait in the passageway."
Sam had taken no notice of him. Standing still as stone, he appeared to
be speaking to the corpse.
 Come along, Sam," Hephaestus said gently, taking him by the arm. He
shook him, then tried to pry his fingers loose from the Stranger's. It was no
use. Sam remained transfixed, the words rushing out of him too fast to be
understood.
With a sigh, Hephaestus stepped back a pace and clenched his fist.  I'm
sorry, my friend," he said as he threw his best punch at Sam's jaw.
It never struck.
At the moment before impact, Sam turned his face to Hephaestus. Perhaps
that was it, the engineer would think later. Perhaps Sam's eyes had stopped
him.
They were unearthly, clear as pools of green water, with depths of intelligence and compassion Hephaestus had never, in all his life, seen before
on any human face. He had looked into an elephant's eyes once and had
seen something of like kind, as if the beast had understood all the suffering
in the universe, but Sam's gaze held even more than that.
It held power.
His fist stopped a hair's breadth from Sam's face. For the briefest moment,
he felt as if it had been stopped for him in mid-air, halted by some unseen
force.
But of course that couldn't have been so.
Then Sam smiled with an expression difficult to fathom: hopeful, patient,
peaceful beyond telling.  I've finished," he said softly. He let go of the
Stranger's hands at last.  You knew about him, didn't you?"
 Yes," Hephaestus said.  I knew who he was. But I couldn't open the
coffin." He glanced down at the weird countenance of the sarcophagus's
occupant.  Where could he be from?"
 I don't think that matters," Sam said. He met Sam's eyes questioningly.
 You never saw him before? You never touched him?"
 Gods, no."
 But the walls . . ."
 I found a scroll in a case beside the sarcophagus," Hephaestus said. It
fell to pieces when I read it, so I copied it all down on the spot and then
painted it on the walls. I couldn't understand much of what he said, but I
thought it was important to preserve." He made an impatient gesture.  Come
on. We have to go."
Sam saw Athena's face appear at the ceiling opening.
Hephaestus jumped to latch onto the stone ledge of the shaft with his
fingers and pulled himself up.  Now, Sam," he urged.
Sam had turned back to the Stranger's sarcophagus. The creature had
never been wrapped in bandages like the subsequent kings; he had not
needed it. Slowly, with reverence, Sam closed the coffin's lid. Then he blew
out the lamp and pulled himself through the ceiling opening.
When he replaced the slate, the chamber was again sealed, hidden, age 
less, unknown.
And in the darkened room, the green glow around the sarcophagus
dimmed and faded into blackness.


chapter 18.

THERE HAD BEEN NO SACRIFICES FOR NEARLY THREE HOURS, AS HADES HAD
been occupied with his prisoner.
The high priest sat now on an uncomfortable low stool, facing his brother.
Poseidon was bent over a barrel, his wrists and ankles tied to metal rings
that jutted out of the stone floor. The seaman was nearly unconscious.
Hades touched his finger to one of the open slashes in Poseidon's back.
There was an involuntary shiver, nothing more. The priest's eyes slid disdain 
fully toward Ares.
 You're supposed to keep him alive," Hades said with soft contempt.
 He'll stay alive as long as I want him to," Ares countered. The young
commander was naked from the waist up, his muscled torso slick and shiny
with sweat. His eyes glistened.
He was a killer; Hades had always known it. It was a virtue in a warrior,
and Ares was the greatest of all Atlantean fighters. But he lost control too
easily. There had been stories of Ares's inventive brutality since his child 
hood. Since the last slaving expedition, Hades knew that they had all been
true. Ares found an almost sexual release in conferring death.
But he must not kill Poseidon. Not until they had learned the secret of
the foreign spy.
 Brother," he said softly, leaning toward Poseidon,  I do not wish you
harmed this way. It is the stranger I seek, the foreign devil. He has addled
you with his sorcery and done the same to Zeus. At this moment, he holds
our beloved Athena as his captive. I beg you, Poseidon, help me. Help me
to save our country. Tell me where he has gone."
With effort, Poseidon lifted his head and met Hades's sincere gaze with
frozen calm. He had known torture before. He had seen many of his own
men die under the lash of pirates or savage tribal kings.
The end of torture was always death. If a man broke early, he died with
contemptuous but merciful speed; if he refused to talk, death came slowly
and with great pain. But there was no alternative to death.
Poseidon decided to die in silence.
 Where has he gone?" Hades repeated, this time without the posture of
concern.
He waited for a moment, then nodded wearily to Ares.
The whip sang before it cracked against Poseidon, opening a fresh gash.
The sailor flinched, his arms and legs pulling the ropes taut.
In a corner of the torture chamber, a young soldier turned his face away.
The skin had been almost entirely flayed from Poseidon's back, exposing
the raw muscle beneath.
The soldier's name was Orion. He had sailed with Poseidon, as his father
had a generation before him. On Orion's first voyage he had traveled west
to Ixlatan, the most civilized of the mainland cities, where the kings dressed
in feathers like plumed jungle birds and ate magic black berries which they
said gave them superhuman strength. The Atlantean traders were welcomed
with day-long parties and celebrations and honors appropriate for kings.
Thus it had always been, sailing with Poseidon.
Even with the advent of the slaving expeditions, some semblance of
courtesy had remained. Instead of trading goods for goods, Poseidon had
bartered Atlantean looms and machinery in exchange for slaves captured
by the warriors of Ixlatan in their battles with neighboring tribesmen.
But this last voyage under Ares had been different from the beginning.
After Poseidon's commanders were run through with spears and dumped
overboard, the troops were constantly indoctrinated in the way they should
think: The old regime was corrupt, they were told. Poseidon, along with
the puppet king Zeus, worked for the foreign barbarian nations to destroy
the great civilization of Atlantis. It was incorrect to call the barbarians
 human." They were not human. To pretend otherwise was to undermine
the sanctity of the Atlantean ideal.
After a while, only a few among them had disagreed. These were executed. By the time the fleet reached Ixlatan, there were no dissenters left.
And there was no talk of trade.
Their first command was to storm the palace. The great feathered king
of Ixlatan was killed in his throne room, and his nobles taken off as slaves.
The golden ornaments which hung everywhere were hacked off, taken away
as booty by the young Atlantean soldiers.
Ares himself had been the first to rape one of the palace women an act
which would have merited execution under Poseidon and his troops had
followed Ares's example. Orion had been caught up in it all, the violence,
the heady freedom of absolute power over a subject people. He had felt
like a god there, capricious and responsible to no one. Drunk on the strong
wine which Ares had brought for his victorious troops, Orion had axed the
wooden gods of the mainlanders into splinters. He had stood back, lost in
a pleasant fog, while his fellow soldiers aimed their spears at a line of fleeing
women and picked them off like birds at the hunt. He had helped to light
the fires that burned the stately houses of the nobility, one after the other,
to the ground.
In the span of three days, Orion saw the empire of the west, established
for more than two hundred years, crushed like a primitive village. When
the Atlanteans were finished in Ixlatan and the long line of slaves marched
into the holds of the ships, the fabled city of the young soldier's first boyhood
adventure stood in ruins.
Now Orion looked at Poseidon, hung over the barrel like a bloody slab
of meat. The old man had already vomited; he probably hadn't much water
left in him. Flies settled in his wounds.
The soldier no longer knew what to believe.
A priest walked slowly down the stairs and approached.  It is almost
dawn, Eminence," he whispered to Hades.
Hades cast a final look at his brother, then rose slowly.  Place him with
the slaves until I return," he told Ares.  I must speak with Zeus."
Ares was slapping the coiled whip impatiently against his thigh. For
safety's sake, Hades plucked the whip away and gave it to the soldier. Then
he picked up a pitcher of water, drank from it, and threw the rest onto
Poseidon's head.  Wake up, brother," he said.  We would not want you to
miss the first sacrifice of the day. Particularly since it is to be you."
Wordlessly the soldiers moved aside when Hades approached the door to
the king's chamber. He found Zeus sitting in his golden curved chair, staring
forlornly through the window at the death pyramid across the canal.
 Most glorious Majesty," Hades said mockingly.
As Zeus turned slowly to face him, even Hades was shocked at the king's
appearance. His face was drawn, his eyes sad and tired. There was an
expression of ineffable sadness in his eyes, as if he had looked into the
future and seen there only death and decay. The pendant hung lifelessly
from the chain around his throat, the giant diamond as dull as a piece of
chalk.
 What more do you want, Hades, now that you've imprisoned me in my
own palace?" he asked. The words, meant to be curt, instead sounded only
weary.
 Soon the day's sacrifices will begin," Hades said.  As you see, the citizenry is already gathering below. It would be appropriate for the king to
give his blessing to the first offering."
 I'd rather not."
 Oh, but I'm afraid your presence will be required. It's to be a special
sacrifice." Hades leaned close to whisper in his ear.  Poseidon."
 What?" The king's eyes glimmered with shock.  Is this some sort of
foul jest?"
Hades clucked sympathetically.  Alas, no, Highness. Like his friend, Pro 
metheus, he has betrayed his country. Perhaps the gods will forgive him
after his sacrifice."
 Even you cannot commit such an atrocity," Zeus said.  Poseidon is our
own brother!"
Hades feigned surprise.  My, what an odd thing for you to say. I, too,
was your brother, if you will recall."
 I did not take your life!"
 You took my throne! It was more than my life!" The high priest closed
his eyes; in a moment, he had brought himself under control again.  As I
was saying, you will watch the ceremony from the palace balcony, either
willingly or at the point of a soldier's spear. And you will watch again when
Athena and the foreign spy are brought to the block."
The king half rose from his chair.  You cannot do this," he rasped.
 Oh, I can," Hades reassured him.
 Athena is an innocent. Even if you took the throne, she would not stand
in your way."
 She has the Stranger's power," Hades explained quietly.  That is what
must be eradicated. Every drop of the foul blood that has poisoned Atlantis
must be spilled on its earth."
He did not have to add that the king himself possessed that blood. Zeus
knew that his own turn at the altar would come, but only after he had
watched his brother and daughter die before him.
 You are mad," the king said, his voice quivering.
Hades had an answer, but Zeus could listen to him no longer. He turned
away to stare out the window again.
In the slave chamber, the men were quiet. The shadow of Poseidon had
seemed to linger long after he had been taken away for torture.
Some slept; the respite before the sacrifices resumed had been welcome.
For a while, at least, death had not come for them.
Then the heavy door at the top of the stairway opened and Poseidon
was tossed inside to fall down the stone steps.
For a moment no one moved except to clear a little space around the
old man whose body was slick with his own blood. Then one of the slaves
ventured forward. Bending down, he slung Poseidon's arm around his neck.
Immediately they were surrounded by others, supporting the seaman's
head and legs and body, carrying him to a clean corner of the chamber.
 Is he dead?" a middle-aged man asked in the Atlantean tongue.
The slave who had picked up Poseidon looked at him. The speaker was
small and dark and beardless, like many of the slaves from the western
mainland, except that this man had the delicate uncalloused hands of a
patrician. The man who had lifted Poseidon was himself from Attica, far to
the east.
 No," he answered.  He's . . ." He searched for the Atlantean word.  He's
alive."
The dark-skinned patrician knelt and tore his filthy tunic to wipe Poseidon's wounds. It was made of fine soft cloth. There was a thick band of
white on one of the man's fingers where he had worn a ring. Of gold,
probably, the Attican thought. The westerners were all very rich, especially
those like this one who had clearly been a nobleman.
And now the man was a slave, the same as himself, waiting for death.
There were those in his country who had believed that Atlantis was the
home of the gods. Well, they were evil gods, the Attican decided. They
destroyed not only those who were helpless to fight them, but their own
as well. He had heard how Prometheus was brought down for giving fire
to a mainlander. Now they had tortured the famed Lord Poseidon, the king
of the sea himself.
Evil gods.
For an hour he sat in silence next to the dark-skinned patrician who
cradled the unconscious Poseidon's head in his arms. Finally he clasped
his hand on the westerner's shoulder. The other man looked up in surprise,
the bloody rag still dangling from his fingers, then understood the gesture.
He nodded; the Attican saw his eyes well with tears.
 Bring up the traitor Poseidon!" a priest's voice commanded from the
top of the stairs.
The Attican held him more tightly. As six soldiers marched down the
stone steps, he knew that they were coming to take the king of the sea to
the altar of sacrifice.
Poseidon's eyes fluttered open, unfocused.
The soldiers approached two abreast as the throng of slaves parted deferentially, their eyes downcast, each hoping not to be the next selected to
go to the blood altar. One of the guards reached past the Attican to grasp
Poseidon's arm. The slave shoved the soldier away.
The chamber fell instantly into dead silence.
At first, the soldiers were so amazed at the slave's impudence that they
did nothing. Then the guard he had pushed gave him a swat on the side
of his head that sent him reeling. But the Attican got up again and rushed
at him, forcing him away from Poseidon once more.
 You'll not take this man!" he shouted in his own language.
This time the guard raised his spear.
And it was snatched out of his hands.
By the patrician from the west, the Attican noticed. By those smooth
brown hands which had probably never borne a weight heavier than the
gold of his jewelry.
 The king of the sea is not a slave," the patrician said in the clicking
sounds of his native speech.  And neither am I." With that, he thrust the
spear into the neck of the nearest guard.
The riot had begun.
Within ten seconds the other five soldiers lay dead. A flood of men poured
up the stairs. The great restraining door shook, then bent, then broke with
a deafening crash.
The soldiers on the other side were prepared with long daggers and
pikes, but they were outnumbered by a hundred to one. Overcoming the
guards" scanty resistance, the prisoners poured through the passageways,
heading to the outside, to freedom.
In their frenzy, Poseidon was left behind.
In the pyramid palace across the canal, Hades was still hectoring the king,
savoring and dragging out the moment of triumph he had envisioned for
so many years.
Through the large window, Zeus saw the first slaves pour out of the
pyramid entrance and head down the steps toward the plaza below. He
stood up, about to command his guards to quell the riot, before realizing
that the military was no longer his to command.
He thought quickly. Poseidon and Athena were both imprisoned in that
pyramid. The revolt taking place across the canal might well be their last
hope of escape.
He would somehow have to prevent Hades from becoming aware of it.
Keeping his back to the high priest, he swiftly pulled closed the thick,
sound-muffling draperies.
 You're absolutely right, brother," he said, forcing the excitement out of
his voice.  I have wronged you. But I am prepared now to make amends.
Here is a proposal. Have your sacrifices. You may have Poseidon and Athena.
But don't take me to the block, I beg you. Let me abdicate. I will announce
you as king, repudiate any family claim to the throne, and go into exile.
Would that be agreeable to you?"
Hades blinked for a moment in surprise, then chuckled.  At least you're
straightforward about your cowardice."
 This is no time for noble posturing," Zeus said with false heartiness.
 Not if I hope to keep my organs intact." He dashed to the door of his
chamber and ordered the guards outside not to disturb them for any reason.
 We'll work out the details immediately. That would set my mind at rest."
Hades stroked his chin, teasing the king.  Let us not be precipitous in
our enthusiasm, Majesty. It may be that you would be more useful as a
sacrifice to the gods."
 No," the king said quietly.  I am prepared to publicly acknowledge that
I took the throne from you, thereby legitimizing your claim and averting
civil war. It is a good offer, but you must either accept it now, and work
out with me the exact manner of my abdication, or reject it forever."
Hades stared at him icily.  How dare you think you can continue to give
me orders?"
 It will be my last. Decide, Hades. I have said that you were right and I
was wrong. Let us now, as brothers, resolve this matter."
And let us not, under any circumstances, look out the window as your
precious sacrifices escape your bloody prison, he thought.
His jaw clenching, Hades picked up a blank scroll and tossed it at the
king.  Write your confession," he said.


chapter 19.

ARES AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF CLANGING METAL. THE YOUNG SOLDIER
named Orion had just burst into his sleeping chamber in the death pyramid.
 What is it?"
 The slaves have rioted, sir. They are escaping. There aren't enough of
us left to fight them."
Ares jumped to his feet and grabbed his sword.  How many have
escaped?"
 All of them, sir," Orion said, terrified.  They're leaving the island in the
canal boats."
 What about the military transport? Have they taken that, too?"
 Not yet, but I saw them boarding." Orion felt a great need to relieve
his bowels.  I don't think any of us are going to get out of here alive,
anyway," he added.
Ares shoved him out the door.  Get to the boat," he growled.
 The boat?" Orion nearly tripped over his own feet.  But the fighting is
in this building "
 Get to the boat!" Ares repeated in a shout.  I'll be damned if I'm going
to get myself killed at the hands of a filthy slave."
Hephaestus was the first to emerge from the hidden passageway at the
back of the pyramid where he had hidden his boat. Behind him, Athena
and Sam held one another as they took in the horrific scene in the courtyard
just outside the boathouse. Blood ran in rivulets along the pavement, pooling
around the bodies of dead Atlantean soldiers while half-naked slaves,
screaming in terror and jubilation, ran wildly among the corpses.
A flotilla of small vessels zigzagged in the canal. Ordinarily used only to
ferry the dead across the canal, the unseaworthy craft were now so filled
with men that they could barely float. In the empty boathouse, Hephaestus
saw Charon's bloodied body. One of the ancient ferryman's thin arms hung
limply over the wall of the canal.
 Charon!" he whispered, trying to determine if the old man was still alive.
The ferryman's eyes opened.  Took the boats," he said.  They killed the
guards and took the boats."
Athena made her way toward him and looked at his wounds. There was
little she could do for the dying man.  Do you know where Poseidon is?"
she asked gently.
Charon pointed feebly to the pyramid.  Inside . . . slaves" quarters . . ."
Hephaestus made for the entrance at once. Sam followed after him.
The massive underground slave chamber was eerie in its silence.
There was a thin-faced slave with Poseidon, crouched among the bodies
of the dead. When Sam and Hephaestus entered, the bloodied slave made
no move to fight or run. His only gesture was a movement of his arm across
Poseidon's battered head, as if protecting it to the last from the Atlantean
killers.
 We've come to take Lord Poseidon to safety," Hephaestus said cautiously.
The slave's expression changed in sudden recognition of the black man.
 Hephaestus," he whispered.  The architect." He scrambled to his feet.  I'll
help you carry him out of here. But be careful. Everyone here has gone
mad, prisoners and captors alike."
 There are no more captors," Sam said as they lifted Poseidon into their
arms.  They're all dead." He cast a glance at the slave.  Why did you stay
behind?"
The ragged man with the oddly noble bearing panted with the effort of
carrying Poseidon up the long flight of steps, obstructed by the heaps of blood 
spattered corpses lying across their path.  This began because of me," he said
softly.  And him." He looked down at Poseidon.  I was a captive, and was to
die. That was fate. But when the king of the sea, who had commanded respect
even from the ruler of my own land, was brought in here like a common slave,
I could no longer accept fate. That was the beginning of the insurrection."
At the top of the steps, after kicking aside several corpses, the three men set
down their burden. There was an even longer flight down to reach ground level,
but at least, they were outdoors, away from the horror of the blood-slick stairway.
In the distance, Hephaestus saw his ship in the open water, heavy with the
weight of too many men on board. He groaned.
 What's that?" Sam asked, wiping his forehead.
 Our ship's gone," Hephaestus said. He felt like weeping, but Sam's voice cut
through his despair.
 Let's get Poseidon to Athena," he said.  We'll worry about everything else
later."
Hephaestus exhaled a small puff of resignation, then lifted Poseidon's legs
and helped carry him away from the death pyramid.
In the wide stone courtyard in front, hundreds of slaves were moving frantically,
some of them picking the valuables off the bodies of slain guards, others simply
milling about, uncertain of what to do with their newfound freedom in the Land
of the Dead, where there was not even one living tree.
Beyond the pyramid was a long plain where the dead were buried. Their
graves were unmarked, forgotten to the living, the older ones covered with
weeds, the newer ones mounded with brown earth. After the plain was the sea.
There was no more.
Some of the prisoners howled in despair. The boats were all gone. They had
fled the slave chamber in triumph, only to realize that there was no way home.
A few of them leapt into the water and were swimming toward the harbor.
Hephaestus saw that the ships in Poseidon's fleet that had survived the last
earthquake had already moved offshore. But the twelve frigates which had
returned from the slaving expedition under Ares were still docked, surrounded
now by swarming slaves who tried to climb the sides of the vessels.
Let them have them, he thought. It was better to lose a few ships than to have
the slaves rioting in the streets of Olympus. There would be enough problems
coping with Hades and Ares and their traitorous army.
But that, too, was something they would have to worry about later.
Row," Ares commanded the young soldier as he settled into the large
military boat.
His bare arms were covered with blood. When Ares and Orion had arrived
at the canal, they had had to fight nearly fifty slaves for the vessel. All of
them now lay dead on the shore as Orion punted with one oar to free it
from the shallow waters into the channel separating the Land of the Dead
from Olympus. Behind him he heard the death cries of the Atlantean guards
as they tried to defend the pyramid from the blood-crazed slaves.
 They'll die to the last man," Orion said, unaware that he had spoken
aloud.
Ares splashed water from the canal onto his arms to clean them.  Won't
be much of a loss," he said.  Sixteen troops, most of them too young to be
of any consequence." The boat stilled.  I said row, damn you!"
Orion turned back to his task and rowed, steeling his jaw to keep back his
tears. The new commander had deserted his men during a bloody massacre.
Not much of a loss. Ares dealt with numbers, not human lives. And Hades,
the high priest who was privy to the thoughts of the gods themselves, was
already calling him the future king.
They know more than you do, Orion told himself. It was not a soldier's
place to criticize his superiors. And yet he could not push back the feeling
that this army was a different one from the army in which his father had
served. Under Prometheus and Poseidon, a soldier fought with honor. In
this new army, all that was required was a willingness to kill.
The men in Orion's squadron had killed tribesmen, patricians, women,
children . . . even their own officers. Now they, too, had been left to die.
Orion rowed, and tried not to think.
Athena was waiting at the boathouse. Charon lay beside her, his wounds
bleeding through the bandages Athena had made from strips of her own
garment. She wiped his face with a water-soaked cloth, trying to bring the
old ferryman some comfort, when Poseidon was carried in to her. Gently
she moved away from Charon to examine her uncle's flayed back.
 We have to get him to the palace," she said.
I

 I'm afraid that won't be easy," Hephaestus sighed.  We don't have a
boat."
Charon stirred and mumbled something. Athena knelt beside him and
leaned over to hear what he was struggling to say. The ferryman gestured
with a trembling hand toward the rocky far wall of the boathouse. He
mumbled again.
 I think he said, boat," Athena said.
Sam climbed the rock pile which concealed Hephaestus's secret entrance
to the pyramid.  That's what it is," he called out exultantly. He lifted the
end of a small canal boat, then cursed. There was a melon-sized hole in its
side.
 He must have been repairing it," Sam said disspiritedly.
Hephaestus clambered on the rocks after him.  Then he'll have tools
about. Use your head, Sam." In a moment the engineer produced some
planking, already cut to size, and a hammer and nails from a barrel well
out of sight of the canal. With his expert hands he set to work quickly, each
blow of the hammer ringing out in the cavernous rock. In a matter of minutes
the boat was afloat in the canal, with Poseidon laid carefully inside. They
had all gathered around Charon to lift him next, but the old ferryman shook
his head with more energy than Athena would have thought him capable.
 I will stay here," Charon said with a tremendous effort, the words bring 
ing up bubbles of blood.  Here, among the dead whom I have served." His
head lolled back against Athena.
 But Charon, you must   ." she began, but her words trailed away. The
old ferryman's eyes were already beginning to glaze.
 We'll have to leave him," Hephaestus said. Athena closed the old man's
eyes, then arranged his limbs into a position of dignity before stepping into
the boat.
Hephaestus gestured to the patrician slave.  You next," he said.
 I?" he asked.  But I am nothing to you."
 Get in!" Hephaestus took his arm and forced him into the boat.  If you
should be so lucky as to reach your home again, tell them that not all the
people of Atlantis are like the ones who enslaved you."
 Yes, yes, I will do that," he said, his eyes gleaming.
Hephaestus gestured Sam to go next, but Sam unceremoniously shoved
him in first.  You may be an engineering genius, but I'm not trusting you
with the only boat left."
When everyone was safely seated, Sam got in.  Don't suppose we have
any oars," he said. No one answered.  All right, then, we're going to have
to paddle. Get your hands in the water, all of you."
The boat started out uncertainly into the canal, with Sam lying across
the bow, his arms elbow-deep in the water, trying to steer the boat to the
other side where the pyramid palace was.
 You row well, westerner," Hephaestus said to the slave with a grin.
 What is your name?"
 I am Quetzalcoatl of Ixlatan," the man answered.  And for you and the
Lord Poseidon I will paddle with my hands to the ends of the Earth."        
While on foot they had gone unnoticed by the rioting slaves, but now the
people from the palace had a boat. Five persons in a boat large enough for
ten. First dozens, then hundreds of former prisoners suddenly gathered
along the sides of the canal to watch them.
One picked up a stone.
 Oh, no," Hephaestus said.  They're going to kill us for the boat."
 Be quiet," Sam commanded with quiet authority. He turned from the
bow to Athena.  Put your arm on my back," he said.  The rest of you, too.
Get close so that we're all touching."
Hephaestus frowned with irritation as the others pulled their hands out
of the water.  Sam, this is no . . ."
 Do it!" Sam snapped.
Reluctantly, Hephaestus joined the others. Athena held one of Poseidon's
hands. Quetzalcoatl held the other. They huddled together, the tiny boat
bobbing in the water of the canal. There were masses of men now on both
sides of the small waterway. One by one, they stooped to pick up stones.
They moved together, closing in on the boat like shadows.
 The Power is used by all, together . . ." Sam whispered. And speaking
the words, the feeling of perfect understanding that he had experienced
while touching the Stranger's hands filled him once again.
Envision and desire one thing above all else, each of you in the deepest
recesses of your spirit. . .
 They won't harm us," Sam said softly.
A strength grew inside him and suffused every part of his body. It spread
through him like honey, then flowed out of him into Athena's fingertips,
which he could no longer distinguish from his own flesh. And from there
it traveled, quick, snapping like lightning into Hephaestus, who was another
part of Sam's being, and to Quetzalcoatl, who knew nothing of the Stranger,
but was part, nevertheless, of the new entity which the five of them had
become. Somewhere, in a part of Sam beyond the realm of physical touch,
he felt Poseidon stir. The sailor's life force, weak but growing stronger with
each beat of his heart, added to the new being.
Sam felt the entity that was himself and the others glow with colors, each
hue contributed by one of its parts Athena's a pure blue, Hephaestus's an
ever-changing purple. Poseidon emanated a yellow which was changing
rapidly to gold, and Quetzalcoatl added a fiery red to the mix. They were
all part of each other, yet also part of this new, unique life form that throbbed
 with invincible power.
When the first rock was hurled, it came straight at Sam's eyes, then
caromed away as if it had struck a shield. He never blinked. Another rock
hurtled toward them and also was repelled.
Some of the slaves made the sign of the evil eye; others set their jaws
and threw their missiles with greater determination. They fell like bubbles
on the five in the boat, sliding over them and into the water.
 That is Poseidon," one of the slaves murmured.  You have cast your
stones at the king of the sea."
At that, many of the attackers dropped their rocks and backed away, but
their places on the bank were quickly filled with others. A red-haired slave
from the eastern mainland whose face bore the scar from an Atlantean whip
stroked the blade of a dead soldier's knife. The tip of his tongue showed
between tight lips.  I don't care who he is," he said.  I want that boat." He
stepped forward, his chin thrust out.
Athena turned and looked up at the savage with the knife on the shore
beside them. The men around him shrank back, awestruck at the sight of
her face.
 Her eyes are made of moonlight," someone said.
The slave swallowed but stood his ground. Grunting, he jabbed his
weapon into the air.
 You will not harm us." It was Athena's lips that moved, but the men
who heard her would have sworn that five different voices had spoken.
With a cry, the slave with the knife flung himself toward the boat. All
five inside raised their arms at the same moment to catch him. The weapon
fell from his hands as he passed among them like a current of water, then
slid out the back of the boat. There he clung to the side of the canal, wearing
an expression of utter disbelief.
One of his countrymen pushed his way through the crowd to pull him
out of the water but when he extended his hand, the man only stared up
at him.
 I have touched the gods," he whispered.
The slaves on shore dropped their stones, one by one, all of them, so
that they made a sound like rain on the barren plain. Then one man waded
into the water of the canal and pushed the boat gently forward. Others
followed in silence as if performing a sacred ritual, moving the vessel out
into the channel.
When it reached open water, they stood on the banks of the Land of the
Dead, watching as the tender current carried the immortals to the palace
on the far shore.


chapter 20.

THE FIRST TREMOR HIT AS THE CANAL BOAT WAS NEARING SHORE, CAPSIZING
the ferry and bringing the five out of their entranced state with terrifying
abruptness.
 Get my uncle!" Athena shouted, wading frantically back toward the
boat.
 I'm here." Poseidon rose out of the water, shaking droplets off his hair
and beard. Quezlcoatl, who had been trying to upright the boat, suddenly
dropped the bow. Then he reached out and touched Poseidon. The skin of
his back was nearly healed, with only faint pink marks to show where Ares's
lash had cut into his flesh only hours before.
 The whip . . . my wounds from the whip are healed," Poseidon said.
He turned to face Sam.  What did you do?"
 I don't know," Sam said.  It was something we did together. Something
we must have always known how to do. . . ." He could still feel the Stranger's
spirit infusing him as the long-hidden words had poured into his mind from
an unknowable source beyond death.
Hephaestus stepped onto the bank and put his arm around Sam's shoulders.  Let's go," he said.  There might be another tremor, and we don't
want to be in the water when it comes."
They began the slow walk to shore but fell back as, in silent agreement,
everyone stood aside to let Poseidon pass. When the old sailor stood on
the rocky ground, he raised his arms to the sun, as if infusing himself with
the light and warmth of life.  Go to the palace and wait for me," he told
the others.
 What about you?" Hephaestus asked.
Poseidon's eyebrows knitted in anger.  I'm going to get my army back!"
At the barracks, Orion called the surprised troops to attention. They had
been either asleep or preparing for furlough, eager to shake off the dust of
the long slaving expedition, when the small tremor hit. A portion of the
ceiling had collapsed, and at the time of Orion's announcement that Ares
himself stood outside, the men had been scrambling for their garments and
weapons. When the battalion finally stood ready for inspection, Orion fell
in to his usual place among the men.
 The slaves have escaped," Ares said, preparing them for the riot which
 he knew would take place shortly in the streets of Olympus.  They have
murdered your fellow soldiers, who now lay slaughtered in the Land of the
 dead. Now these savages are on their way to murder your families in their
 homes as they murdered your comrades."
The soldiers tensed, ready to do battle.
 The corrupt devil Poseidon let loose the foreign wizard to work his evil
sorcery on the brave Atlantean troops "
 That's a lie!" Orion called out.
It was not something he had planned to say. Years later, after he had
taken up a quite different life, Orion would still be puzzled by this rash
Action of his youth. He had been trained to obedience, taught to question
nothing spoken by his superiors. Yet he had called the high commander of
 he Atlantean military a liar in front of an entire barracks!
Ares swiveled slowly toward the young soldier, his expression one of
rage. Orion's fellow soldiers looked at him aghast, their feet moving imperceptibly away from him so that he appeared to stand alone in a small, empty
place.
His cheeks blushed wildly, but he had started and, since he knew that
he would pay for the remark with his life, he saw no need to stop.  Lord
Poseidon came to the death pyramid to find the princess Athena, who was
 locked in a cell. She was going to be sacrificed."
Orion spoke at the top of his lungs.  Then the high priest Hades and
Commander Ares tortured Poseidon with a whip across his back. But he
wouldn't talk. Even when they threw him in with the slaves."
Ares drew his dagger and lunged forward. One of the soldiers pushed
 rion aside, out of the way. Incensed, Ares waved the dagger from side to
 side, examining the faces of the troops to see who had come to Orion's aid.
Even the officers were struggling to retain their composure. For weeks
they had been drunk with power and adventure in foreign lands, drunk
enough to obey whomever had appointed himself in charge; but back on
 land, they remembered Poseidon.
 That's what made the slaves go crazy," Orion went on, righting himself
to stand at attention once again.  They recognized Lord Poseidon. They
called him the king of the sea."
 Because he was in league with them!" Ares shouted.
 Because he was a good man, sir!" Orion shouted back.
Ares came at him again. This time, a dozen or more men stepped between
him and Orion. One of them pried the dagger out of his hand.
The soldier's voice was hoarse. He wiped away tears that had sprung
involuntarily to his eyes as he recalled the senseless agony in the Land of
the Dead.  And so they rioted. And when they did, the commander left the
troops to die, every last one of them except for me, so I could row the boat.
And I swear by everything that's holy that's the truth, and I don't care if
you kill me now, sir, because I've said it."
The knife lay in the dust at Ares's feet. He bent to pick it up, but an
officer casually placed his foot over the blade as he cleared his throat.  Sir,
I suggest we take the soldier into custody so we can question . . "
Ares came up swinging a fist that connected with the officer's chin with
a bone-crushing thud, then staggered backward as the man slumped to the
ground.
 You swine!" he shrieked at the troops.  I'll see you're all flogged before
you die, traitors! I'll kill every one of you myself, do you hear me, then
hang your worthless skulls from the palace, where your wives and children
can look at you while they're beaten in the public square!"
His mouth was foaming with rage, but little by little the troops had ceased
to pay attention to him. For over the horizon walked a man with a set to
his shoulders and a stance they all recognized before ever seeing his face.
Emerging calmly into the sunlight, his long white hair streaming like the
whitecaps of the sea, strode Poseidon.
Ares gasped.  Kill him!" he commanded.
No one moved.
Poseidon never deigned to look at him.  Captain, take four men and
escort Commander Ares to King Zeus in the palace and wait for me there,"
he said. With his toe, he kicked Ares's knife away.
The order was carried out at once.
 You'll die for this, old man," Ares seethed as he was unceremoniously
trundled away.
At that moment, another tremor rumbled beneath the Earth, sending some
of the soldiers tumbling to the ground like toys.
 Stand at attention!" Poseidon snapped, riding the quake like a wave at
sea.  What's happened to him?" He indicated the unconscious officer.
A young lieutenant stepped forward.  Commander Ares attacked him,
sir. For preventing the Commander from killing young Orion there."
Poseidon raised an eyebrow when he recognized the guard who had
forced him into Hades's chamber of horrors at spearpoint.
 He said you were tortured, sir," the lieutenant said, frowning.
 So I was."
 But. .  but. . ." Orion stammered.  Your wounds . . . I saw them myself."
 You inflicted one of them, if I'm not mistaken."
Moaning, Orion fell to his knees.  Kill me, lord. I beg you "
 Get up, fool, and act like a soldier," Poseidon said irritably.  Alert the
other barracks. The runaway slaves are beginning to swarm the city. All
troops not presently defending their ships offshore are to assemble at the
south gate of the palace. I will meet with them presently."
 Yes, sir." Orion took off at a run.
The quake had settled quickly, but the waves at sea were rising. Poseidon
raised his voice.  The rest of you, crew members of the galleon Oceanus,
secure your ship immediately, before the runaway slaves have a chance to
steal it. And don't kill them unless you have to. You'll be sailing with them
back to the mainlands."
The young lieutenant glanced sidewise at the bay, where the waves were
crashing white against the shore.
 Think you can remember how to sail in weather?" Poseidon bellowed,
staring hotly into the officer's eyes.
 Yes, sir," the lieutenant answered with pride.  I sailed with you to
Ixlatan once, sir."
 Good! Then you'll know the way." He addressed the troops again.
 You'll be stopping off at the priests" pyramid to pick up the rest of the
slaves, then sailing west. When you reach the mainland, every soldier on
board is to remain in Ixlatan until whatever damage you've wrought on
your last expedition has been repaired. Once you have completed your task
to the satisfaction of the present ruler there, you will set sail for Attica to
return the eastern mainlanders to their home. Is that clear?"
 But . . . but that will take years, sir," the officer stammered.
 Then I suggest you get moving," Poseidon answered.  Dismissed."
It's settled then," Hades said. He looked up from the parchment scroll on
which he and the king had been writing.  You will speak to the people
today. You will abdicate and name me as the rightful king. In return, you
will be exiled to the eastern mainland. Is that agreed?"
 In essence," Zeus replied.  But exactly how will I get to the mainland?
Will I have escort vessels in the event of attack? Will I "
 You're being exasperating, brother," Hades snapped.  I have no more
time to waste with you on such nonsense. This is your proclamation." He
tapped the parchment.  Read it, sign it, and later you may "
The door to the king's private chamber flew open. Two soldiers tossed
the struggling figure of Ares on the floor. Behind them stood Poseidon.
 You!" Hades exclaimed, unable to take his eyes off his brother who
seemed, miraculously, to be in perfect health.
 He escaped with the slaves," Ares reported bitterly.
 What?"
 They're rioting, Hades, overrunning the city. I came back to get reinforce 
ments, but Poseidon showed up and took the fourth battalion from me.
They were always weak.   ."
Hades ran to the large window and pulled back the draperies, revealing
a nightmare scene of absolute chaos. In the plaza below, fear-maddened
slaves fought with Atlantean soldiers. Citizens lay dead in the street. Already
a half dozen fires had been set, and smoke poured from the small wooden
buildings of the marketplace.
His face twisted in fury, Hades turned to the king.  You knew this," he
accused.
Zeus's face was inscrutable.  How do you like your kingdom now,
brother?" he asked quietly. He reached down to the table, picked up the
piece of parchment on which Hades had been writing, and tore it in two
pieces.
 Father?"
He looked up to see Athena entering the room, along with Hephaestus
and the foreigner. With a cry of relief, he rose to embrace his daughter.
Then came the third quake.


chapter 21.

SECURE IN THE STRUCTURAL PERFECTION OF THE PYRAMID PALACE, ZEUS
and Hades had not even felt the previous tremors, but this latest earthquake
was enough to buckle the pavement of the plaza below. Athena fell into
her father's arms as outside, a wagon drawn by oxen tumbled onto its side.
Poseidon clenched his jaw as he looked through the window at his ships,
so carefully preserved against attack, now bobbing crazily in the mouth of
the harbor.
 I have spoken with the troops," Poseidon said, forcing calm into his
voice.  The navy is at your command, Majesty."
Zeus felt a rush of love for his brother whose loyalty had never wavered,
even when the king had proven too cowardly to accept his sage advice.
Now he knew Poseidon was silently offering it again.  How many ships is
that?"
 Eighty," Poseidon answered with a gleam of hope in his eyes.  Enough."
 Enough for what?" Hades asked suspiciously, not privy to the current
that was flowing between his two younger brothers. Then, like a hammerblow, the realization of what they were planning struck him.  No!" he
shouted.  You will not evacuate Atlantis. This earthquake is minor. With
time "
 There is no time," Zeus snapped.
Everyone present turned to stare at him, and at the diamond hanging on
his chest. It had begun to glow with a faint green light.
 We must leave now," he said quietly,  before the ships we have left to
us are destroyed. The Iberian coast is relatively unpopulated. Our people
will be safe there, and we can build shelters before winter comes."
 You must be mad," Hades said.  No one will leave Atlantis for the
wilderness of the mainlands. If you wish to abdicate your rule, then do so.
But don't expect anyone with any intelligence to go with you."
 Those with the Power will go," Zeus said, touching the pendant.  The
Eye will draw them together. The others   ." He turned back to the window.
 The others must follow, or they will die here."
His heart sank as he watched the continuing carnage in the streets. Greedy
youths crawled over the overturned oxcart, helping themselves to its con 
tents. A contingent of soldiers had collected twenty or thirty runaway slaves
who were walking across the plaza, their waists tied together with rope.
Passersby threw stones at them as they shouted their scorn at the foreigners.
At the eastern end of the docks, distinguishable by their square sail riggings,
were moored the two remaining ships which had sailed with Hades on the
slaving expedition. On their decks, washed by wild waves, pitched battles
were taking place as the slaves attacked and fought for control of the vessels.
We have had our chance at paradise, he thought. And we have thrown
it away.
There was so little left of Atlantis to save.
He cleared his throat.  Hephaestus, bring all the royal family to the harbor
and help them to board safely."
Hephaestus stood frozen, trying to absorb the impact of what the king
was saying. He would be leaving Atlantis, not at some time in the vague
future, but now. His pyramids, his dams all his accomplishments would
be left behind for the sea to swallow and the winds to erase.
 Go now, my son," the king said gently.  The palace must be evacuated."
Their eyes met. Hephaestus's were brimming.  Yes, Highness," he said,
and left. His long journey to Timbuktu was about to begin.
Zeus turned his attention to Poseidon.  Make room for any troops who
remain loyal to you, and their families as well." He glanced back at the
window.  And get the slaves."
 The slaves?" Hades howled.
 They were brought here in violence and against their will," Zeus
answered curtly.  We owe them at least that much."
 I have ordered the crew of the Oceanus to sail for the west with the
slaves, once they are subdued," Poseidon said.  It shouldn't take long. They
are unarmed, and most of them aren't trained fighters. One of them, a former
nobleman from Ixlatan, is talking with them now, urging them to surrender."
 Oh, by all means, take your slaves with you," Hades hissed.  Go live
together with them in their thatched huts and bow down to their feathered
demons. You will find out how much your freakish Power is valued among
the savages." He laughed.  In their land, they will make slaves of you. And
while you toil in their fields and carry the stone for their buildings, while
you watch the foul-smelling savages fondle your women, my son and I will
rule Atlantis."
Poseidon snatched a sword from one of the guards.  Give me permission,
Zeus, to kill these dogs now!"
The king shook his head.  No," he said softly.  It is too late for our
squabbles and our dreams. Our day is done. Even yours, Hades." He gestured
to the soldiers to release Ares.  The two of you are free to go. The punishment
for your crimes is that you are not to leave Atlantis with the ships that sail."
 Brother, I implore you!" Poseidon said, aghast at the king's leniency.
 These two vermin tried to take control of the entire military. They imprisoned your daughter, tortured me, and openly plotted to take your throne.
Surely they must not be allowed to remain and rule the country!"
Zeus's eyes were cloudy and distant. The stone on his chest pulsed with
a life it had not shown for a quarter of a century.  There will be nothing
left here to rule," he said.
Out to sea, past the fleet of ships that stood ready to take his people
away, he saw once again the island of his vision a bare, unpopulated
place all but covered with water, its once great cities sunk deep in the abyss
of the ocean.
The first time the vision had come to him, it had filled him with terror,
but now he saw it for what it had always been, the truth, nothing more
nor less. Atlantis was not theirs to keep. It belonged to whatever gods
had first brought the Stranger, with his knowledge, to a primitive island
archipelago in the middle of the ocean. That knowledge was given, for
better or worse, to Zeus's ancestors; now their descendants, in their turn,
were commanded by those same gods to pass it on to other lands, other
minds.
He turned back to the people in the room Hades, smirking at the
lightness of his sentence; the others, puzzled and disappointed at what they
considered the king's weakness. Even Athena and the barbarian, with the
Power strong in their blood, were too young to see beyond the calamity of
their own lives. But Zeus understood. For the coming generations of man
to live, Atlantis must die.
So it was to be a sacrifice, after all, he realized, the greatest sacrifice
possible: the body of Atlantis for the spirit of the Earth.
 We cannot change the course of things to come," he said quietly.
Hades sneered.  We'll see about that." From the king's desk he picked
up the torn parchment on which Zeus had written the announcement of
his abdication.  When you leave, I will consider you banished from this
kingdom, as you agreed. My kingdom. Those who follow you will be
regarded as traitors."
Shoving the soldier's swords aside, he walked regally to the door.  You'll
wish you had killed me, brother," he said.  Because I swear I will kill you.
You and everyone who carries your blood."
The guards accompanied him and Ares outside. Through the window, Zeus
watched Hades walk out onto the plaza. Around him, despite his armed
guard, people by the dozens threw themselves at his feet, begging him to
avert the earthquakes with more sacrifices.
 Look at them," Poseidon said with disdain.  He'll give them what they
want, even though it means a death sentence for them all."
Zeus knew the truth of that. Nothing would stop the earthquakes. They
would come again and again until there were no crops at all, no animals,
no clean water. Those who stayed behind with Hades to satisfy his hunger
to sit on the throne would die of starvation and thirst in a barren land. By
the time the last of them decided to leave, there would be no ships for their
journey, and no resources from which to build them.
And that time was coming soon, soon.
 We will save who we can," he said. He stepped forward and embraced
Poseidon.  Fill your vessels, King of the Sea. You yourself captain the ship
carrying the royal family."
 Aye, brother. The Dolphin's the best in the fleet." He hesitated.  And
you?"
 You will see me." Zeus nodded to all of them.  Collect your belongings,
all of you, and be quick."
Athena clung to him.  Father . . ." A terrible feeling of unease was settling
around her like ashes.  You will come, too, won't you?" she asked anxiously.
 I said you will see me." He kissed her forehead.  Safe journey to you,
my precious one." Gently he disengaged himself from her.  The gods 
your gods be with you."
As they were leaving, he touched Sam's shoulder.  Please stay for a
moment," he said, closing the door behind the others.
He walked to the window.  You come from the future," he said.  I believe
that truly. And so I must ask you: Will any of my people survive?"
Sam hesitated before he answered.  I don't know," he said finally.  I
don't know what will happen to any of you. But you'll be remembered.
Even in my time, people will know your name."
 The last king of Atlantis," Zeus said, smiling bitterly.  How cruel." He
picked up the amulet on his chest and let it fall again.  I wonder if the
Stranger, too, was no more than an ordinary man."
Sam looked at his hands.  I don't think he was ordinary," he said.
 No. Probably not. But he wasn't an Atlantean, and I doubt he was a
mainlander. Since I met you, it's occurred to me that possibly he, too, came
from another time. Another Atlantis, perhaps, which had made the same
mistakes we have." He turned to face the window.  Do we ever learn from
the past?"
 Someday we might," Sam said.
The king nodded slowly.  Yes," he whispered.  Someday." He bent his
head forward and removed the pendant from his neck, then placed it on
Sam's. The stone sprung into fiery life, its glow throbbing with Sam's pulse.
Zeus touched the diamond.  This will keep our people together," he
said.  There are others with the Power. Athena, Apollo . . . others. They
will be drawn to you. You will not lose one another so long as you have
the Eye to see clearly. Do you understand?"
Sam felt himself trembling.  I think so."
 It is you, Stranger, who will begin it again. You, not I, will bring back
Atlantis, with your people who are not doomed as we are, but waiting to
be born."
He clasped Sam's hands in his own.  You must go now," he said.  There
is a ship waiting for you. And a new life. Use it well."
The king would not be leaving the island, Sam knew. He would never
be part of the new world into which he was sending his people. After they
sailed, he would cease to be a man with a man's cares and sorrows. From
this day, he would be known as Zeus, king of the gods.
Sam bent his knee and bowed before him.
Alone, Zeus walked from the palace toward the peak of Mount Olympus.
In the city below, soldiers, rioting slaves, and the angry citizenry clashed
together over the neglected bodies of the dead into one screaming, danger 
ous mob. The crowd around Hades was swelling. Others, following Ares,
were striking down the few families who were trying to make their way
toward the ships.
This is not the end of the world, the king thought. It ended some time
ago, when no one noticed.
He turned his back on it and resumed the wearying climb among the
rocks of the mountain. Perhaps the Atlanteans deserved the inexorable
future that awaited them. Once noble and magnanimous, they had become
indifferent to everything except their own vicious pleasures. Their king, by
forgetting his kinship with the Stranger, had led them into this.
Now he must lead them out.
At last he stood on the rim of the great volcano, his feet bare and his
head bowed. He would never know if he was right or not, if what he was
about to do would be known as an act of faith or of mass murder.
Perhaps the Stranger had felt something of the same trepidation, Zeus
thought. He must have known that men could use his knowledge for evil
as well as good.
In Atlantis, evil had won.
But the knowledge was still alive. And someday people would learn from
the past.
Someday, the Stranger would be welcome again.
He raised his arms in the ancient attitude of prayer.  Gods, the gods of
the Stranger, do not destroy Atlantis!" he shouted.  Take me in its place!"
Inside the dark hole of the volcano appeared a spot of red. Heat steamed
up, searing Zeus's face.  Scatter us to the winds if you must, bury our
treasures beneath the sea, punish us for forgetting you and debasing the
gifts which our ancestor brought us. But this I beg you: Do not take away
the Stranger's land forever. One day when we are clean again, when we
have given our gift to the world as we were meant to give it, bring us back
to our home."
His body shook with uncontrollable force as the Power surged through
him, up his spine and down his limbs. Light crackled from his fingertips.
His eyes, glowing with rapture and gratitude, looked into the heart of Mount
Olympus.
In that void, the spirit of the Earth beckoned to him.


chapter 22.

BY THE TIME SAM CAME OUT INTO THE PLAZA, POSIEDON'S FLEET WAS RETURN 
ing from its offshore mooring back to port. A long procession of royal family
and servants, carrying their masters" personal treasures, all surrounded by soldiers
loyal to Poseidon, marched from the palace toward the docks.
Beyond them, on the grazing grounds for the royal cattle, Issa led Poseidon's
white stallion on a rope. When he spotted Sam, his spine straightened and he
quickly wiped his tear-streaked face.
 This is the last of them," he said stoically.  I killed all the others this morning.
My wife dressed the meat to take with us."
 But the king just now gave the order to leave," Sam said.
The old man smiled in a toothless grin.  A king higher than Zeus told me
what to do. I said I'd ask the invisible god, and I did. He sorted everything out
about the animals. The boat, too." He pointed to the bay with pride.
Ahead, moored on a sandy stretch of beach some distance away from the
harbor, was a huge ungainly rectangle, the strangest looking craft Sam had ever
seen. He had to look twice to realize that it was the same boat he had given to
the old gamekeeper. A superstructure had been built on the deck, so high it
looked like a wall, unbroken by even a slit in the boards. Only one small perch
appeared above it. The sails had been removed.
 No wonder the slaves didn't take it," Sam blurted out.
 My sons were guarding it," Issa said, oblivious to his friend's dismay.  My
sons and two bears."
Sam smiled wanly.  I think there might be a problem with the design," Sam
said, rubbing his forehead.  You're not going to be able to see out of that."
 Don't need to," the old man answered.  Don't know nothing about sailing,
anyway."
 You mean you're just going to   . to float along?"
 That's my plan." He took a deep breath of salty spray.  Well, I guess I'll be
setting out."
 Where to?"
Issa spread his hands.  Wherever the sea takes me. I'm a free man now."
Sam looked at the wide ocean.  That you are, Issa."
 Oh, I changed my name, too. As part of my freedom. I don't want to go by
a slave's name no more. Nor a master's. I'm going to be a stranger where I'm
going, and I want to have a stranger's name."
Sam smiled.  So what should I call you if we ever meet again?"
 You won't forget it," the old man said, bursting into wheezy laughter.  I plan
to call myself Nowar."
 Nowar?" Suddenly Sam's face blanked.  Nowar . . ." He looked again at the
odd craft in the water.  The ark."
 I took your name. It's the closest to the Stranger's I could think of."
Sam looked into the old man's eyes, as hopeful as a boy's.  Good luck to
you, Nowar," he said.
Issa shrugged.  It's out of my hands."
 You're going to make it."
The old man beamed.  Is that a prophecy?"
 Guaranteed accurate," Sam said.  Watch for a bird."
They bade each other good-bye, and Sam went to look for Athena.
The first frigate to sail out of the harbor was filled, not with members of
the royal family, but with slaves.
It had not been easy. Many of the captives who had been brought to the
docks by Poseidon's soldiers had died by their own hands before Quetzalcoatl could persuade them to board. Even Poseidon's presence on the
docks had not convinced the slaves that they were not going to be sent
back to certain sacrifice on the high priest's pyramid.
Quetzalcoatl had pleaded with them to believe that they would be taken
home, not to the Land of the Dead. He had sworn by his god Tlaloc that
he spoke the truth.
 The gods have abandoned us," one of the slaves had shouted as he
held a knife to his own breast.
 They have not," Quetzalcoatl explained patiently.  They are speaking
now through the king of the sea and through me. You must believe that
there is good in the world, as well as bad." His voice broke.  You must
believe this, or your lives are no longer worth living."
With his patient efforts, they came. Those from the nearby western shores
who had dreamed of Ixlatan and its wonders; and the wild tribesmen from
the far lands across the ocean, from Attica and Iberia and Egypt, from Sicily
and Italy and the vast wilderness of the uncharted European plain, all willing
to die for the chance to see their homelands again.
When they boarded the Atlantean ship, Poseidon pointed to Quetzalcoatl
and instructed the ship's crew.  This man is to be in charge of all passengers.
He will see to it that these free men do you no harm. In turn, you will defer
to Quetzalcoatl in all matters not related to the running of the ship."
 Yes, sir," answered the young lieutenant from the fourth batallion. The
sailors saluted Poseidon. Clenching his jaw, he returned the salute, knowing
he would never see any of them again. He clapped his hand on Quetzalcoatl's
shoulder.
 Thank you," he said quietly.  I know what you did for me in the pyr 
amid."
 I believe you would have done the same," the patrician answered. He
stood up straight.  We will rebuild Ixlatan, and your men will be safe there.
I hope, Lord Poseidon, that one day you will consider making your home
with us as well."
Poseidon looked out to the sea, which he knew would be his only home
from now on. There would be no scrabbling in the dirt of a farmer's field
for him, no bending to the laws of a feather-caped king. He was a sailor.
A woman passed by on the docks, carrying a basket of grass for weaving.
She sang as she walked, her voice breathy and low:
The wind blows
And we are scattered like seeds
To clutch the Earth
To bloom for a moment
To die like dust in the wind
And the wind blows. . . .
 Farewell, my friend," Poseidon said.
And so the freed slaves came to the ship Oceanus, their muscles taut,
their hearts pounding as it pulled from its mooring. As it neared the Land
of the Dead, the stranded men on shore gathered silently, prepared grimly,
prepared to fight what they thought was the approaching Atlantean army
with just the stones in their hands.
Quetzalcoatl disembarked and spoke to them as he had spoken to the
others, and in time they, too, boarded. And when the ship finally rode the
wind out into the open sea, they cheered, the former slaves and the Atlantean
crew alike, the cheer of free men sailing into the unknown.
Athena was not at the docks with the other royals who waited patiently
for Poseidon to see off the ship of slaves. Smoke from the fires all over the city
was thick as Sam walked from the harbor to the back lawns of the palace, where
Athena's rooms faced. In the distance, he could hear the lowing and braying of
Issa's menagerie.
Not Issa, he corrected himself: Nowar. The old man who bore his name would
become the most famous survivor in history, and on a boat that looked as if it
had been designed by a committee.
He smiled. So one of the Atlanteans will make it to land, he reflected.
And the rest? The slaves escaping from the Land of the Dead in their tiny canal
boats? Would any of them reach the far shores of the desolate wilderness that
would come to be called Europe, or the weird civilizations of Central America?
And what about the others, the inhabitants of the great Atlantis? Could they bring
themselves to cast off everything they owned, everything that was accepted as
their due, to live as pioneers in harder conditions than they could ever imagine?
Could exquisites like Apollo make a life in a place where there was no music
except for the wind whistling through a clump of water reeds? Could Athena . . .
No, Athena would survive. Sam would make sure of that, one way or another.
He  would never see his own home again, but he would stay by her. And the
rest.
He pulled the diamond on its chain from beneath his garment. This was the
Stranger's legacy, and Zeus the Thunderer's.
Sam was not its rightful owner, he knew. This object, this repository of the
Power, would someday belong to someone greater than himself. But until he
found that person, he would be its guardian. With it, the Stranger's descendants
would stay together. He owed that to the king. Sam would keep them together
and try to persuade them to use the Power together, as the Stranger had intended.
Together, they would all possess it, and its scope would be magnificent.
These strangers, for they would all be strangers now, would fulfill the promise
of the world by sailing to all its distant shores.
It would be a new beginning for all of them. Perhaps, even, for himself.
Suddenly he felt horribly cold.
The diamond dropped out of Sam's hand and thudded heavily onto his chest.
Sweat poured off his face. His hands shook violently; his knees nearly buckled.
It was difficult to breathe.
The shivers. Even here, he recognized them.
Earthquake, he thought. Back at the docks, Poseidon's command voice echoed
through the mist. Hurry, Sam wanted to shout. The big one. The big one's coming.
But he could not speak. The shivers had its icy hands gripped around his throat.
Then he arched his back and a dry gasp hissed out of his throat as something
struck between his shoulderblades. Something that felt like a hot iron burning
into his flesh.
The blade twisted, and Sam knew it was not the shivers. It was a knife.
Ares's face peered over Sam's shoulder.  Don't pretend you didn't expect
this," he said.
Another voice spoke through the agony of Sam's pain.  How did you get
the Eye of Zeus?" As Sam's vision dimmed, a shadowy figure robed in black
came out of the smoke into his line of sight.  Did you kill Zeus for it?"
Hades demanded.
 What difference does that make," Ares grumbled as he withdrew the
dagger from Sam's flesh.  He's saved us the trouble."
The pain was horrifying. Sam screamed as the blood rushed out through
the pulsing wound. He felt only vaguely the tug of the chain around his
neck as the pendant was removed.
 Perhaps you're right, Ares," Hades said, hefting the diamond.  The Eye
will draw those with the Stranger's blood to it."
Oh no, no, Sam thought through a swirl of light and darkness. To show
his domination over Zeus, Hades was going to kill Zeus's children and
everyone else with the Power. Wipe them out until nothing remained of
the Stranger, and all the magic of Atlantis was gone.
The magic . . .
Because that was what the Power was, ultimately a speck of magic
inside the human race which made them hope and dream and imagine.
People in his time had seen angels. Reba Dobbs spoke with the spirit of
her dead grandmother. Carol Ann Frye could heal with some unknown
force within her own body. Harry Woodson, Jamie McCabe . . . names from
another life, now never to exist. Because without the Atlanteans, the Stranger's blood would never flow through the veins of any human being who
would ever walk the Earth.
Hades would kill them all. The human race would go on without any
trace of the Power, beings with intelligence, but without any inkling of
something greater than themselves, something binding them together as
part of the infinite universe.
Mankind would lose its soul, now and forever.
Sam caught hold of the priest's robe and pulled Hades to him.  Don't
do this," he rasped, tasting his own blood.  You don't know. . . ."
He never finished. The Earth began to rumble again, deep in its heart.
The sound grew stronger, and the ground began to quiver like the fletching
of an arrow when it strikes a tree. It rolled by in waves, each one closer to
the surface than the last.
Ares cried out.
 It's nothing," Hades snapped, flinging Sam away from him.  This will
pass in a moment."
 But . . ." Ares pointed upward.  Look. The mountain."
Hades craned his head to see, above the pall of smoke, the peak of Mount
Olympus. At its summit stood the figure of Zeus, his body glowing with
eerie green light. The light radiated out from him, growing, finally encompassing the entire island. He turned to look down on the ravaged city. His
eyes were visible, even from such a distance; they burned like coals. Light 
ning shot out of his upraised hands into the sky, burning it black. The clouds
raced down, and the balmy summer day turned in an instant to terrifying
night.
Sam pulled himself up to his knees as he witnessed the fulfillment of
the vision he had seen in the grotto, under the sea: Zeus the Thunderer,
commanding his people into exile.
The mountain roared. Zeus bowed to it once, humbly. Then, as the low
clouds flashed and boomed, he stretched his arms out to his sides in a
gesture of supplication and stepped out over the rim.
In the city, a collective gasp rose from the populace. Soldiers dropped
their weapons. The citizens of Olympus fell prostrate. The sea itself seemed
to still as a plume of fire spewed out of the volcano's cauldron, and the
darkened sky lit up like a fireball.
Sam closed his eyes. The Atlanteans would leave now, he knew. Hades
would not be able to kill everyone with the Stranger's gift. They would go
to the far corners of the world to suffer and die, but they would take the
magic of their ancestor with them.
 Good-bye, great king." Sam moved his cracked lips, but no sound came.
He felt cold. Death was coming quickly for him. He wished he could
have saved the diamond, but it was out of his hands now. He smiled with
the thought. It was what Issa Nowar had said. Out of his hands.
He fell against the ground and pictured Athena's face. No regrets, he
thought.
Not a one.


chapter 23.

POSEIDON, HURRIEDLY RUSHING HERA'S SERVANTS WITH THE QUEEN'S ENdless baggage onto the fleet's flagship, looked up suddenly at the blaze in
the sky and knew instantly, with a moan in his throat, what Zeus had done.
 What is it?" Hera screamed, running out on deck.  Another earthquake?
Now?" Her attention was seized by two servants stumbling along the gang 
plank with a particularly heavy chest of inlaid wood. In the first tremors of
the explosion, they lost their footing and were scrambling to keep the chest
from falling overboard.
 Be careful with that!" she shrieked.  Those are my best lamps!"
Without a word, Poseidon yanked the chest out of the hands of the slaves
and heaved it into the water.  Hercules," he called.  Take the queen below.
If she gives you any trouble, throw her overboard." Then he shoved the
slaves up the gangplank. There was no time now for an orderly progression
into reserved berths. Whomever the gods chose would survive.
Poseidon wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. In
his mind, he could still see the figure of Zeus, glowing with an unearthly
light as he was immolated in the heat of the volcano's eruption.
 Peace be with you at last, my brother," he whispered. It was the only
prayer he had ever spoken.
 No baggage except food," he shouted, taking a silk-wrapped bundle of
gowns from another servant and tossing it on the ground like a heap of
rags. The volcano rumbled again.
Hephaestus found Aphrodite in her apartment, seated before a silver mirror.  What do you want?" she asked his reflection.
 We are leaving the island. There is room on the ship for you."
She laughed.  Thank you, but I don't think I'd enjoy the life of a mainland
farmer."
 Then you'll die here," Hephaestus said evenly.  The ships are leaving.
There won't be any more after the fleet goes."
 What a pity. I've always liked sailors."
if anyone deserves to be left behind, it's you," he muttered.
A moment later, the palace shook again. The windows filled with red
light from the erupting volcano, and all the lamps burning in the corridors
were extinguished by a massive swat of air.
From somewhere in the palace someone screamed,  The king!" but Heph 
aestus was thinking only of Aphrodite. He ran back into her rooms, picked
her up bodily, and slung her over his shoulder.
 Put me down, you disgusting beast!" she shrieked.
 Nothing would give me more pleasure," he said, racing down the broad
stairwells.  Nevertheless, you are my legal wife, and as such I am responsible
for your safety."
He had barely reached the docks when Mount Olympus roared to life
again, this time sending a wall of lava a hundred feet into the air. The crack
in the pavement of the plaza broadened into a crevasse wider than the
height of a man. Two buildings sank toward one another and collided, their
roofs shearing off like pieces of tin and falling to the street below. For a
moment, the thousands of windows in the two pyramids shimmered with
light in rainbow colors, then exploded outward in a violent burst, carrying
with them the bodies of those who had not left in time.
Aphrodite hung motionless on Hephaestus's shoulder, her face blank
with shock. As the children from the palace and their nurses crowded,
whimpering, up the ship's gangway, Hephaestus set her down.
 Are you all right?" he asked.
Her face was ashen.  Hephaestus, you . . . you saved my . . ."
Her interest in her husband vanished when she caught sight of Ares
leading a contingent of rogue soldiers. She waved to get his attention, but
Ares and his men were marching determinedly toward the last remaining
vessel from the slaving expedition.
 Excuse me," she said hurriedly,  but since we're all leaving, I think I'll
join Ares on his ship." She danced away.
 Ares isn't going," Hephaestus said flatly.  It's his punishment for torturing Poseidon and plotting to kill the king."
She turned around.  He's not leaving?"
 I'm afraid not," Hephaestus said.
 Oh." She sauntered back, displaying her brilliant smile.  In that case,
I'll sail with you. I'll have my own stateroom, of course."
 I doubt that."
 But you can arrange it, can't you?" She held out her arms invitingly.
 After we're underway, I'll show you how grateful I am."
Hephaestus sighed.  I'd rather you didn't," he said, moving out of her
reach.  But if it becomes necessary, I believe the stable servants will be on
this ship. You might ask one of them to accept your gratitude."
He left her, crimson and speechless, and loped back over the plain to
help the injured.
On board the Oceanus, already sailing far out to sea, the jubilant freed
slaves were stunned into silence by the eruption of Mount Olympus. As the
waves beneath them rose to unimagined heights, they saw the windows in
the distant pyramids in the land of the gods shatter like a spray of water.
 Get below!" Quezalcoatl ordered his passengers. Slipping along the
rolling, wave-lashed deck, he heard the navigator shouting to communicate
with the captain, who stood at the helm less than a foot away.
 Should we come about, sir?" he called, squinting against the wind which
had begun to blow them wildly out to sea.
The captain took a final look at the towering buildings of Atlantis, now
crumbling like sand castles before his eyes, and shook his head.  Just try
to keep us on course," he answered gruffly.
He glanced over at Quezalcoatl, clinging to a mast like an insect on a
twig, his clothing soaked, his face blackened with the ash that was engulfing
the ship in a thick cloud. The captain gestured angrily for the fool mainlander
to get below decks, but a fifty-foot swell soon diverted his concentration
from the thin-faced man from Ixlatan.
Quezalcoatl watched the land of his conquerors disappear into the black
mist, and hung his head. He tried to pray, but the only thing his mind could
hold was the song of the woman at the docks.
The wind blows, and we are scattered like seeds . . .
He heard it again and again, and even the screaming of the wild sea
could not drown it out.
Nowar, too, was in the open water, headed east. He saw only a plume of
smoke in the far distance, which he took to be Hephaestus's forge.
 Funny how lively the sea is out here," he said. His wife smiled and put
her arm around his waist. Neither of them had been on a ship since being
brought to Atlantis as children. The motion of the craft was exhilarating to
them both.
Then the ark lunged forward, bobbing like a cork on the suddenly bilowing waves. Nowar's wife shrieked with laughter and hung onto the sturdy
rail.
He chuckled, too.  Why, you aren't afraid at all, are you?" he said, trying
to make it sound like an accusation.
She straightened up and shook her head. Her kerchief blew free and her
gray-streaked hair flowed out behind her in the wind like a girl's.
In the palace library, Athena witnessed her father's suicide.
She had been carefully packing some fragile scrolls into a box when she
looked outside to see the king on the rim of the volcano.
 Father!" she whispered, too stunned to believe her eyes.
Then he jumped.
You will see me, he had said in his chamber. And so she had, at the
moment of his death.
She slumped to the floor. As the fireball erupted, consummating Zeus's
union with his land, Athena stared emptily into the hot, red light. Outside
the library people stampeded down the stairways, forgetting their baggage,
anxious to arrive at the docks before it was too late, but Athena did not
move. Only the shouting of her maid, who was shaking her by her shoulders,
finally roused her from her numbing grief.
 Princess, you must help!" Iris shouted hysterically.  The Queen Mother
Rhea has dismissed her servants and locked herself in her room. She refuses
to leave the palace!"
Athena got to her feet.  I'll see her," she said.  Take your things to the
ship and wait for me there."
The maid wrung her hands.  Oh, lady, you'd better hurry "
 I will," she said, shooing Iris away.
Rhea was lying on her bed, calmly embroidering a baby's gown.
Athena noted that the draperies were drawn and that the old woman
stitched by the light of a single candle. That was some relief: Perhaps Rhea
had not seen her son's death.
She sat down on the bed beside her grandmother.  We have to go now,"
she said, placing an arm around the old woman.
Rhea smiled and shook her head.  No, I won't be making this journey."
Slowly she completed a perfect flower on the hem of the tiny garment.
 When you have all gone, I will walk to the sea and wait."
 Wait?" Athena could hear the impatient edge in her voice and forced
herself to be calm.  Wait for what?"
 For Prometheus." She held the cloth near the candle to examine her
work.  He often talks with me there." She laughed lightly.  Sometimes I
think we've spent more time together since his death than before it."
 Come with me," Athena urged gently.  Wherever you are, Prometheus
will find you."
Ignoring her request, Rhea held up the gown.  I dressed Zeus in this on
his naming day. He'd been swathed in nothing but rags. I gave birth to him
outdoors, you know, in the woods."
 I know," Athena said.
 Prometheus was with me. He helped with the birth."
 Did he?" Quietly Athena rose and went through her grandmother's
things, gathering a few items Rhea might need on the journey.
 He was always there when I needed him," the dowager queen said, so
quietly she might have been talking to herself.  The council wouldn't permit
me to leave the palace, even when I told them my baby would be in danger.
They didn't believe that I'd seen a vision. A terrible vision."
Her hands grew agitated.  I walked through the woods halfway to Parnassus. When the labor began, I was all alone. I was afraid the wolves would
come after me, but I needn't have worried." She smiled shyly.  A few hours
before dawn, when Zeus was ready to be born, Prometheus found me. He
built me a fire."
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.  I've often thought that he might
have been thinking of me when he built the fire for that woman and her
babies on the mainland. The fire that got him killed."
 Perhaps you should ask his spirit," Athena said.
 I have. He tells me only that it is the destiny of Atlantis to bring fire to
the world. What an odd thing to say, even for a ghost. 
                                            
Athena bent over her grandmother.  Please, we must go now. There is
no more time." She tried to pull Rhea from the bed, but the old woman
firmly pushed her away.
 Hush, Athena!" she whispered excitedly.  He is here now. Prometheus!"
she cried with delight.  And Zeus . . ." Rhea frowned.  But why are you
here, my son? The vision was overcome. I bore you in the woods, away
from the palace."
 Grandmother, we really " Something brushed against Athena's cheek
like a caress. She dropped Rhea's carefully folded robes.  Father," she
whispered. The image of the king's final act came back to her, and her heart
broke all over again.  Father, why did you do such a thing?"
A dry, fragile hand fell softly into her own.  Don't you see, child? It was
the vision," the dowager said softly.  I could not cheat fate, after all."
 What was it?" She knelt on the floor beside Rhea's bed.  Tell me, Grand 
mother. What was the vision? Tell me!"
It took a moment for the old woman to acknowledge her, as if the pull
of the spirits she saw were almost too strong to release her.  The vision,
yes," she said at last.  I saw Zeus atop Mount Olympus. He was to be
sacrificed to the volcano for the expiation of Atlantis's sins."
Athena's breath caught.  A sacrifice   ."
 But he's here now." Rhea leaned back against her pillow.  Well, I suppose it's all right," she said contentedly.  There are so many people here
I never thought I would see again . . ."
And then came the boom from the mountain above them. The draperies
in the room glowed red with the fiery blast, and the walls shook. In the
corridor outside, the few who remained in the palace screamed in terror.
 Grandmother!" Athena gasped. Rhea did not respond. She rested against
her pillow, her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face.
 Grandmother . . ." She released the old woman's hand. It fell limply to
the bed. There was no heartbeat, no life force left in the queen dowager.
She had simply gone away.
Carefully Athena arranged the coverlet over her and kissed the wrinkled,
lovely face.  Thank you, Prometheus," she murmured,  for taking her when
you did." She blinked back her tears.  Farewell, Father. Good journey to
you."
As she approached the door leading from Rhea's room, a tremendous
crack resonated through the palace. Two gigantic pillars tumbled like twigs
onto the marble floor which seemed to writhe in a bizarre dance. She tried
to pull herself back, but it was too late. One entire stairwell had collapsed,
and she felt herself sliding toward the hole it had left.
 Sam!" she called, unaware that she had even uttered the name.
The pressure inside the pyramid became suddenly suffocating. The force
which had been dragging her out and down inexplicably reversed and
propelled her up off the floor. Then, in one ear-shattering instant, all the
windows of the palace blew out at once. Athena was slammed against the
stone casing above her grandmother's bed, then hurled into space in a
shower of glass, but she saw none of this.
All she saw was Sam Nowar's face.
Sam, peering over cards on which were printed symbols of stars and
triangles and circles.
 How'd I do, Doc?"
 I think you know. "
 How would I know? Think I'm a mind reader?"
She threw down her . . . what was it? A thin piece of wood with a black
point. It made a mark where it touched the snowy white paper cut into
perfect rectangles.
 I hope you're happy, Sam."
She? It was her own voice; she could feel the sounds coming from her
throat, but in a language Athena had never heard before. And the face
wasn't hers. Not exactly. The same green flecks in the gray eyes, perhaps,
but the features were different. The woman was older than Athena and she
wore an odd garment that covered her arms and fastened in the front with
white bonelike disks.
Don't let go. . . .
Her hands were touching Sam's across a table littered with evenly shaped
rectangular papers, and through them both a music was flowing, raging
like a river; the same music she had heard the first time she touched Sam's
battered face on the plain where the slaves marched.
Music.
She had heard it, too, in a place called Rome, where Sam held her
clasped against the metal armor covering his chest. She was dark then, as
was he, and she never would have recognized his face if it weren't for the
music that called him to her in that life, as in this.
He was her son, splashing naked along the yellow mud shores of the
Huang River as she tried to hold him still, feeling her heart leap as high as
the trees to hear their secret music.
He was her commander in a legion of Huns. Wounded, she had carried
him across her saddle as she rode, listening to the hoofbeats of her horse
keep time with the music of the wind.
He had been a woman, dressed in blue finery, come to be married in
the church where she served as priest. At the moment the priest touched the
hands of the couple, the music flowed between the thin, celibate hand and
the ring-bedecked fingers of the bride. The woman looked up, gasping, and
the priest choked down a feeling of irredeemable loss.
And, too, he had once come to her in a grotto protected by snakes, where
she prayed to the Goddess for a sign that life was everlasting. He came,
following the music of her soul, a stranger to fill her heart with love and
her belly with a new beginning for mankind.
Again and again: a grandfather, a daughter, a friend, an illicit love . . .
always Sam had been there, in lives before this and lives yet to come; yet
always the music was the same.
She could hear it now, rising around her in waves. And then his voice:
My love, I have waited so long for you. . . .
Her own words, in the fevered dreams from which she had called him
from the depths of the sea.
Come to me now, one last time. . . .
Sam," she murmured, dragging herself along the grassy plain before she
was quite conscious. She tasted the blood in her mouth. Her eyes, too, were
sticky with it, but she did not need to see in order to find him. Hand over
hand, she pulled herself over the ground, now thick with ash, feeling the
hot embers burn her palms and the legs that dragged behind her.
 Athena!" A pair of voices called to her.
Dimly she saw two figures running toward her from different directions,
but she did not stop for them. One figure was bathed in a yellow glow.
Apollo, who could feel others" pain; he would understand. The other was
limping and lame, but nevertheless running with the power of an athlete
over the roiling earth.
They both would live long lives. This would end and they would go on,
just as Zeus had wanted them to. It was something Athena knew, surely,
without thought, just as she knew her own time to die had come. And Sam's.
That was the terrible regret of her dying moments: Knowing that, after
such a short time together, they would have to wait for yet another lifetime
to be together again.
Make it soon, she prayed, inching closer to the bloodied man she saw
before her on the burned grass.
 Sam." She was with him at last, her fingers entwined in his hair, her
lips nearing his, touching his.
/ love you, Athena.
I love you, my darling. Forever.
Don't leave this life. Not now.
I will stay with you, Sam.
Then silence.
 Are they dead?" Hephaestus's voice.
 No. Not yet." She felt Apollo's deft healer's fingers probing her. She
wanted him to stop; she wanted both of them to go away.
 Can you do anything?" Hephaestus asked plaintively.
Apollo shook his head.
 Not for either of them?" He bent down to disengage the two mangled
bodies.
 Don't move them," Apollo said.  She doesn't want that."
It will be soon, Sam.
No. You have to go . . . out into the world. It was what the Stranger
intended.
He struggled to lift his head, and she felt a desperate surge of energy
flow through them both.
Don't Sam. The music is so strong now. Don't take it away.
Another surge. I can't do this alone. The power wasn't meant to be used
alone. Remember the boat?
 Hephaestus," Apollo said quizzically, sitting back on his haunches.
 What happened on the boat from the Land of the Dead?"
 The   ." He looked at Apollo, then at the nearly lifeless bodies of Sam
and Athena.  Poseidon was injured."
 Yes, I know."
 Sam told us to "
Just then, the big figure of Poseidon flung himself on the ground at
their side and wrapped his sinewy arms around the two.  Hold them," he
commanded. As the men obeyed, Poseidon shouted over his shoulder at
the sailor and laborers who had followed him in his mad dash from his
duties on the ships.
 You, mate! Come here! You, too."
Dutifully the seamen wrapped their arms around the others.
Hephaestus understood at once.  Come, Apollo," he whispered as he
joined the circle.
Apollo knelt beside him. A small cry escaped his lips. His was the gift
of healing, yet never had he experienced the Power in such abundance.
He felt his own golden essence growing as it left his fingertips, growing
and mingling with the others like strands of hemp entwining to create a
rope. The rope was made of light and color; it was life itself, pouring out
and flowing into each of them, diminishing no one, adding to each, until
it throbbed through them all like a single heartbeat.
One of the sailors burst into tears, trembling in that web of life. Hephaestus
sighed. Slowly Athena's eyes opened. She saw the violet aura around his
wooly head, and Apollo's dazzling smile, but they were not separate from
one another, nor from other others gathered around, nor from Athena and
Sam. All of them had become one being, as they had been on the canal
boat sailing from the Land of the Dead. And once again they had journeyed
back to life, this time as a different collection of souls, a new consciousness,
but their species had been the same: man, yet more than man.
They had become the Stranger.
Athena sat up, bringing Sam with her. The two seemed to float on the
bed of energy created for a moment, then settled softly to the ground as
the crowd around them separated once again into individuals.
Around them the ground cleaved, shooting up a spray of rock as the
massive gates of the Earth ground together. Mount Olympus exploded
again and lava poured red, crawling slowly down the mountainside toward
the city, covering with a burning hiss everything in its path.
The screams of terrified people running wildly, some carrying the lifeless
bodies of children, the whistling wind from the sea, the shouts of the crowd
at the docks suddenly they all boomed to life again for the handful who,
for a moment, had transcended to a place of mute and timeless power.
Hephaestus knelt beside Sam.  Are you . . ." He plucked at Sam's blood 
stained clothing, searching for the wound.
 We can change the course of things to come," Sam whispered, holding
tight to Athena.
The sailors who had joined in the miraculous healing were looking at their
hands, watching in wonder as the vibrance of color drained from their
fingertips, when the volcano erupted yet again.  Hurry, all of you, back to
the ship," Poseidon growled above the din of the endless earthquake. He
was pulling Athena to her feet when he spotted something over at the docks.
 Damn him," he said through clenched teeth. Without another word he
raced over the buckling ground toward the ships, with his men struggling
to catch up.
At the far end of the harbor, on the bow of the last slave ship, stood
Hades.
Ringing him was a line of soldiers led by Ares. At his command, they
were casting their spears into the hysterical throng of people storming the
gangway, pleading for a chance to escape the destruction of the volcano.
A woman carrying an infant pushed through the frantic crowd.  No passengers not necessary to the running of the ship!" Ares shouted at her. In
a frenzy of fear, she tried to slip past him. One of the soldiers knocked her
backward with the shaft of his spear. When she tried to get up, Ares drew
his sword and, with one motion, sliced off the woman's head. Still clutching
the baby, her decapitated body fell into the harbor.
 Get those traitors off that ship!" Poseidon shouted to his second in
command, who had already lost several men trying to halt the piracy while
attempting to launch the rest of the fleet.  I'll not have it sailing half empty
because of that priest and "
With a sound like the dying groan of some huge, immortal beast, the
ground around him cracked and pulled apart. Poseidon threw himself down
as a gush of salt water exploded out of the earth like a solid wall. Gasping,
he finally stumbled to the splintered pier just as Hades's ship set sail, rocking
wildly on the waves in the enclosed harbor.
 Ready to cast off, sir," his second reported.  The ships are boarded with
all the passengers they can carry. I don't know how long they can hold up
here."
 Send them on their way," Poseidon said with disgust, watching Hades's
spacious, nearly vacant ship sail off.  Get everyone who's left onto the
Dolphin. We'll manage somehow."
He shoved Athena and the others up the gangplank, screaming orders
at the top of his voice, while on the plain beyond the Earth turned to
quicksand, swallowing up the people who were running vainly to reach
the docks.
Except for the pyramids, the buildings had all gone. The Hall of Justice,
the Academy, the marble shrine dedicated to Atlas, first king of Atlantis 
buildings believed to have stood for a thousand years had fallen in the span
of an hour, crumbled to dust. The statues and fountains, the mansions of
the nobles, the wide-paved streets, the elegant plazas with their gold-tipped
obelisks, all gone. The houses and farms had caught fire; now the blaze
had spread to the plain where the gushing water doused some of the blaze
in clouds of steam.
So this is how it ends, Poseidon thought as he made his way through the
delirious mob to the helm. This is what had come of the greatest civilization
ever to grace the earth.
 Damn all the gods," he muttered.
As if in response, another roar rose up and, with a blast of heat from the
raging heart of the earth, the top of Mount Olympus blew apart.
The palace exploded. Its huge blocks of stone, glowing red as coals,
scattered through the air like feathers, leaving nothing behind but its per 
fectly wrought metal core. On the Land of the Dead, the priests" temple
trembled as if in sympathy, then shattered.
The pyramids were gone.
On board, the crowded passengers covered their heads as chunks of
flaming mortar rained down on them, but no one spoke. There were no
more words to encompass the horror which their eyes and ears conveyed.
Poseidon called for his crew to pull up the anchor. The Dolphin leaped in the
water like one of his impatient horses. As the vessel was freed at last, he
saw the two lonely towers which had once been the great pyramids of
Atlantis sink slowly into the rising sea.
All that was left now was the sagging, blackened cone of Mount Olympus,
standing sentinel over the dead dreams of a thousand years.


chapter 24.

WiTH THE FINAL MOMENTS OF DESTRUCTION, THE SKY WAS SO DENSE WITH
vapor and smoke and ash that seeing was impossible. The captains of
Poseidon's remaining ships, all setting sail at once through the boiling surf,
did the best they could to avoid colliding with one another, but they had
little to aid them except the calls of the sailors and the screams of the
passengers.
Perhaps it's for the best we can't see, Poseidon thought grimly. There was
nothing to be done now for those floundering in the water, calling out with their
last breaths for rescue. There was nothing to be done for the ships that were
sinking, their passengers wailing below decks as the sea invaded their broken
wooden hulls to devour them. Nothing for those left on Atlantis, clinging to a tree
limb or a fallen pillar, waiting wild-eyed for death.
No, he thought. It is better not to see.
Athena stood on deck next to Sam. There was no room below; she had
given her berth to a young servant who was in the late stages of pregnancy.
The deck was filled with passengers in similar straits, doing what they could
to help the crew, or simply trying to stay out of the way. Many of them
were soldiers who had stayed in Olympus, trying to save the city when
others had simply fled. They still wore their armor and carried their spears
wearily, grateful to be given some task by the crew.
Two of the soldiers stopped at the rail beside Sam and Athena to hurl a
corpse overboard. The ship had not been ten minutes out of the harbor and
already there were six dead.
 Perhaps they're the lucky ones," Athena said, thinking of her grand 
mother. Her last sight of Atlantis sinking into the ocean had been a devastating experience for her, as it had been for everyone on board. Hephaestus
had gone below decks in despair, carrying a misshapen piece of glass which
had once been the mortar in his perfect pyramids. It was all that remained
of his immortal creation.
 Even if we reach the mainland, what can we hope to find there?" she
asked, not expecting an answer.
 You'll find how to use the Power," Sam said.  And you'll pass that
knowledge on to your children."
She smiled and leaned against his chest.  Yes, our children. Yours and
mine. We'll start over with them."
He put his arm around her.  We'll do that," he said.
Yet he knew somehow that would never be. He remembered calling to
her from some faraway place where there had been a tunnel of light filled
with the promise of peace. He knew now that that light had been the
tranquility of death.
It had been difficult to turn away from the light, to come back to the
pain of his living body drowning in its own blood, but he had forced himself,
made himself come back and wait, wait for her, so that he might touch her
one last time.
And she had come to him. Her lips on his were their final moments
together. Even when the circle of life collected around them and infused
him with their own vitality and brought them back, he knew that his time
with Athena was over.
His eyes welled with tears.
 I will never leave you," Athena said on the deck of the ship bearing
them to the southwest, over the place where Parnassus and the cave of the
Stranger had once stood. Sam held her closer, filling up with the music that
bound them together.
With the screeching sound of a ship scraping an iceberg, their vessel
bumped roughly against another ship's hull. Athena went sprawling on the
deck. Sam rushed after her, but as he was picking her up, a wind from the
east gusted to blow the smoke momentarily away.
The clear air was a blessing for the sailors. On both ships, they ran toward
the point of impact to push away from each other with oars. The passengers
were squeezed aside by the crewmen, jammed so tightly together they could
hardly breathe. Sam felt his rib cage compressing painfully against the rail.
Athena was lost somewhere behind him.
He began to shout her name, but the words caught in his throat. Standing
exactly opposite him at the rail of the other ship was Hades, his eyes
widening in outrage when he spotted Sam. Around Hades's neck hung the
diamond pendant.
 I found Athena," Hercules said, pulling her through the throng back to
Sam.  She was . . ." His gaze followed Sam's to the priest on the square-sailed
ship.  By the gods, he has the Eye of Zeus," he remarked in astonishment.  I
wouldn't have thought the king would make him his successor."
A murmur circulated around the deck. Finally a man called out,  Hades
is the new king!"
 Like hell he is," Sam said in a language no one understood as he clam 
bered to the top of the rail.
Poseidon's own crewmen tried to push him back, cursing at him as they
swung their oars around to stop him, but Sam was already in the air, leaping
toward Hades's ship.
 Sam, don't!" Athena screamed as the pressing crowd separated her from
Hercules. Crushed against the rail, she watched, not quite believing what
she was seeing, as Sam landed squarely atop Hades on the opposite deck.
The two of them skidded, struggling, toward the main mast.
 I think you've got something that doesn't belong to you," Sam said,
snapping the chain.
The priest grabbed for the pendant.  Sorcerer! Do you think they will
ever accept you as king?"
 I don't want to be king," Sam said. He had held the priest by his collar;
now he let him go with a push.  That's not what this stone is about. Leave
it alone, Hades. Go be king of whatever hellhole you land in." He climbed
the rail again, but but by now the ships were too far apart to make the
jump.
 Kill him," Hades ordered. His gaze swung malevolently around toward
the oarsmen on his ship but they only stared at one another, then at Poseidon
on the other deck.
Poseidon watched Hades's silent frustration with some amusement. The
crew members had never had a vote as to which vessel each was to serve.
Ares may have persuaded the soldiers accompanying him on his slaving
expedition to abandon Poseidon, but he had never thought to gain the
loyalty of the men who worked the ships. If he had, he would have known
that to a man, they stood solidly behind the great sailor who had trained
them.
 Give him an oar," Poseidon said.
 Aye, aye, sir," one of the crewmen on Hades's ship said with a slight
smile as he extended his long oar across the void to bridge the distance
between the two vessels.
It was more than twenty feet long, enough for a hand-over-hand bridge,
if Sam could traverse it quickly. Sailors from both ships held it steady as
Sam climbed over the rail and suspended himself from the slender but sturdy
shaft of wood, the pendant's chain wound tightly around his wrist.
None of the passengers spoke while they watched Sam inch along the
oar as the two ships bobbed together. Even the gods seemed to be holding
their breath in this pocket of calm, clear air. Only Hades's eyes shifted
momentarily from Sam toward a line of figures moving in a silent crouch
along the deck.
Then suddenly the oarsman on Hades's ship arched forward, a dagger
buried in his back.
Ares rose from the deck.
 My troops are behind me, in case the rest of you have any ideas." His
soldiers stood up, their spears poised at Poseidon and his deck crowded
with civilians.
Sam was still hanging, not moving, while the oar shifted back and forth
on the railing, dancing closer to the edge with each movement of the ships.
He looked up through the cascade of perspiration flooding his face. Ares
met his gaze, and a smile spread over his handsome features.  Hold the
oar steady," he ordered. The onlookers sighed with relief.
A crewman obeyed, replacing the dead man who had held one end of
the oar. Ares reached across him to snatch the diamond from Sam. The
chain snaked around Sam's wrist, burning his skin as it unwound. He tried
to hold onto the amulet, but at that moment the ship lurched and he instinctively brought both hands back to the oar. The pendant snapped loose, and
Ares held it.
 All right. Let him come across," Poseidon called.  You've got what you
want. We'll part in peace."
Ares made an exaggerated bow.  How gracious of you, Uncle."
Hades moved to Ares's side.  Give me the diamond," he said cautiously.
He knew Ares would not stop now. The smell of blood was in the air.
Ares held the diamond to the light.  I think not, Hades. You seem to
have become overly fond of it."
That was when Sam moved. With a swing of his legs, he hurled himself
toward Hades's ship, catching the rail with his fingertips, then pulled himself
over. Without a second's pause he whirled, smashing Ares's cheek with
both fists clenched together.
Ares staggered back. His soldiers surrounded Sam, but Ares halted them
with a gesture.  No," he said, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
 He's mine."
He placed the diamond on the deck between them.  Come and get it,"
he taunted.
Sam lunged at him. Ares feinted, laughing. As they circled the stone, it
moved, first toward one, then the other as the ship rode the growing swells
beneath them. The wind was changing. Wisps of mist and smoke snaked
onto the deck. As the ships began to drift apart, the oar fell into the water.
Poseidon groaned. Even if Sam managed to get the Eye of Zeus away from
Ares, he would not be able to get back to the Dolphin.  Bring a rope," he
ordered a crewman.
In the mate's wake, Hercules muscled into the spot next to Athena. He
was carrying a fisherman's trident.
 I wish that was me over there," he said.  Your friend doesn't have much
of a chance against Ares." Someone shoved against him and he cursed.
 Found this on the deck, though. If those curs try anything . . ."
 Don't be a fool," Athena snapped, taking the trident from him.  If you
do anything, they'll kill him."
Aboard Hades" ship, the two men wrestled, parted, and came together
again. Sam was tiring. Ares was bigger than he was, and he knew from
Sam's first blow that this foreigner needed space to fight. He would keep
his arms pinned and straining until his muscles weakened.
It shouldn't take long, Ares thought. The savage's excitement had given
him a temporary strength, but he had been wounded. After all, I put the
knife in him myself.
Sam fought to free himself from Ares's grip, but the soldier was used to
combat. He pinned Sam's arms behind his back until his shoulders screamed
with pain. When they were too numb to move, Ares released them and
punched Sam in the stomach.
Sam flew across the deck, both from the blow and the sway of the ship,
crashing with a thud against the keel. He saw Ares coming at him again.
Blindly, he groped for a weapon. Anything . . .
His hand closed on the diamond which slid toward him. He felt its cold
fire, heard again Zeus's words.
It is you who will begin it again . . . with your people who are not doomed
as we are, but waiting to be born . . .
My people, Sam thought. The king must have been talking about the
frightened refugees on Poseidon's ship. Sam's own life was nothing, a small,
twisted anomaly that belonged neither in his old world or this new one.
But the others in his charge were the survivors of Atlantis, the only beings
on Earth who carried the knowledge of the Stranger deep in their blood.
The stone belonged to them, them and their descendants. It would be a
magnet, keeping them together so that the would not be scattered around
the world, their great gifts diminished through generations until, in his own
time, those blessed with the Power would be regarded as lunatics and
charlatans. Instead, they would be strong and certain, and one day would
create a civilization capable of understanding the depths of the universe.
They had to have the stone.
Ares jumped, crushing Sam with both feet. Before Sam could recover
from the nausea and the blistering pain, Ares dragged him up by the scruff
of his neck and pummeled him with his fists.
Sam went down again, rolling with the dizzying waves. He blinked,
searching for Poseidon's ship. It was drifting away. With each roll of the
sea, the two frigates drew farther apart. He got up, staggering, trying to
move toward the rail, but Ares caught him just below the eye with a fist
like iron.
Seeing the blood running down Sam's face, Ares took a moment to pick
flecks of his opponent's skin from the gold of his heavy insignia ring. Then
he looked up and shrugged in mock apology for the benefit of his soldiers,
who laughed heartily at the charade. They leaned lazily on their spears as
if to underscore their contempt for the interloper.
But Sam still held the diamond, and with each new blow, he moved
closer to the rail.
 Where's the damned rope?" Poseidon muttered from the deck of the
Dolphin. Already the two ships were so far apart that it would be next to
impossible to get the crazy foreigner back. To make matters worse, the
wind had shifted direction, bringing with it the soot and ash which had
temporarily cleared from the air. In another few minutes, Hades's ship would
not even be visible.
Finally the crewman with the rope appeared. Poseidon tied one end to
a cleat on the deck and knotted the other around a grappling hook, then
circled it over his head, letting out some of its length with each revolution.
Finally he let it fly. It sailed out over the water, just missing the railing of
the slave ship. With a curse he tried again, but the rope fell even more short
of its target. The ship was simply too far away.
Poseidon gritted his teeth and was preparing for a third attempt when
Hercules took the coil from him.  Let me try," he said quietly.
The sailor grunted. He'd heard the boy was strong, if empty-headed.  Try
to get a good swing," he said, handing over the rope.
Hercules swung. The rope grew longer as it rose into the air, picking up
momentum, then fell clamorously against the rail of the slave ship and held.
The passengers on board the Dolphin cheered as the rope yanked taut and
the two ships jerked to a standstill.
As the fight between Ares and Sam went on, one of Hades's soldiers
strolled over to the rail and casually began to saw at the rope with his knife.
Poseidon's heart sank.  Take the rope, Sam!" he shouted.  Throw the blasted
stone away and get to the rope!"
The soldier only sneered.
But Hercules was not yet finished. Hand over hand, he pulled on the
fraying rope, his huge muscles straining, his body lathered in sweat. Poseidon watched him for a moment, then realized with amazement that the
slave ship was moving nearer. With nothing except the strength of his arms,
Hercules was towing the frigates together.
Quietly Poseidon told his first mate to gather the soldiers on board the
Dolphin around Hercules. If Ares's men got the idea to kill him, they would
be answered by a hail of spears.
Glad to be of use, the troops showed up with miraculous speed, their
weapons poised for attack.
 I'd get away from that rope if I were you," Poseidon called to the soldier
with the knife.
Looking up to see an array of armed men well within throwing distance
of his body, Ares's man sheathed his knife.
The ships moved closer together.
 Come over!" Poseidon called to Sam.  Drop the damned stone if you
have to. Just get over here!"
Sam scrambled toward the rail, but he was too battered and exhausted
to escape Ares. With a kick to Sam's kidneys, Ares heaved himself onto the
body of the oarsman he had killed and pulled the knife from the man's
flesh.  I think I'm tired of you," he said with a smile.  I'll take the king's
stone now, if you don't mind." He moved forward for the kill, the blade in
his expert hands.
Sam got to his knees, gauged his distance to the rail, and knew he could
not make it across before the knife struck.
 Move, man!" Poseidon roared.
Sam stood up. His life was over. Only the stone mattered now.
Keeping his eyes fixed on Poseidon's, he threw the amulet to the old
sailor on the other ship and prayed that it would reach Poseidon's waiting
hands.
For a moment the diamond seemed to hang suspended in air, sparkling
with all the colors of the rainbow. Then the wind gusted up, so strong that
both ships listed dangerously. The frayed rope snapped.
Flying on the current, the stone veered, blowing westward toward the
Dolphin's bow. Every arm at the rail extended to reach for it, but it fell just
out of their reach, tumbling end over end, winking in the light. Finally, as
the passengers groaned in disappointment, the Eye of Zeus dropped into
the sea.
 Oh, God, no," Sam whispered.
No. It couldn't be. The stone was the reason he had been brought to
Atlantis in the first place. It had been his destiny to keep the Power intact,
to change the dreary course of things to come. After anguishing for a lifetime,
he had finally understood that things happen for a purpose, that each life
mattered, that there was, in fact, a force which could only be called God.
But the stone was gone. By hazard, luck, chance . . . gone. Like Atlantis.
Like the future he had thought to change. As he watched the dark bubbling
waves swell beneath him, he never heard Athena's scream.
 Sam!" she shrieked as she watched Ares rushing up behind him with
the dagger. Sam did not move. By losing the stone, he had seemed also to
lose any will to live.
She lifted the trident in her hand, pulled it back, and threw it with the
true aim at which the soldiers on the practice fields had marveled when
she had been little more than a child. It caught Ares square in the chest,
three spikes that pierced his armor to his beating heart. His lips parted
slightly; his eyes stared forward, unblinking; then he tumbled forward as
Hades ran to him, emitting a keening moan like the cry of a sacrificed slave.
Hades's soldiers bolted to attention.
 Ready your spears," Poseidon commanded his troops as the ships began
to bob away from one another in the mist.
Slowly Sam moved to the rail and climbed up. The soldiers on the slave
ship, greatly outnumbered by Poseidon's force, glanced over at Hades for
direction.
 Come to me, Sam," Athena pleaded.  Jump now. You can still make it."
Sam blinked at her fuzzily.
Hades looked up from his son's body.  Kill him," he growled to his
troops.  Then kill them all."
Athena covered her face.  Oh, my love," she whispered.
Poseidon tensed.  Ready your shields."
Sam listened to them all with complete indifference. He balanced on the
top of the rail, defeated, suspended between the sky and the sea. He felt
the shivers creeping up his body, engulfing him, but they meant nothing
to him now.
Hades's soldiers loosed their spears. Sam closed his eyes, waiting for the
blades to pierce his back.
And then the wave came, a gigantic wave bursting out of the calm water
between the ships, an eruption so sudden that it swept away the spears in
their flight as if they were straws. It washed over both ships in a torrent,
pushing them wide apart.
The wave lifted Sam off the rail as if cradling him in its monstrous dark
hand. It held him aloft on its crest, almost gently. Sam did not struggle. His
last sight was of Athena, her face buried in her hands.
I will never leave you, he told her with the voice of his undying soul.
Then the wave bore him down, down into the sea, and the mist followed
it, thick and white, to cover its secret work.
 Throw the rope into the water!" Poseidon ordered, although he already
knew it was too late.
The deck was curiously silent now. It might have been the mist, Poseidon
thought, so thick. He had sailed in heavy fog before, and he knew it could
play tricks with sound. Sometimes it would envelop a ship in a silence so
impenetrable that a man's voice sounded feeble from even a few feet away;
at other times, the most faint sounds from distant places could be heard
with absolute clarity. Now he could not hear even the roar of the ocean,
but a baby's cry cut cleanly through the white air. Then it, too, faded to
nothing and there was only silence.
 I'll kill you."
Poseidon's back tensed with a jolt. It was Hades's voice, shrill and filled
with menace.
The sailor remembered his last glimpse of the priest holding the body
of the son he had never been permitted to recognize. Hades had expected
to be king. He had expected the same for his son. Neither dream, the only
ones Hades ever cherished, had come to pass.
The priest screamed with rage.  Zeus has done this! Zeus and his murder 
ing daughter and the demonic Power they used to destroy everything we
knew, everything we owned   ." The scream diminished to a sob.  To the
world we were gods. We could have ruled like gods."
 That is past," Poseidon said into the mist, his voice not without gentleness.  Let it be, brother."
 I will not let it be!" Hades rasped.  I'll kill you. I'll kill you all. You and
your children and theirs, through all time, through all eternity. Every bearer
of that foul blood will die.   ."
And then the voice died away, vanishing into the mist like a memory.
Hades was gone.
Poseidon stared into the fog. There was nothing. His ship was adrift and
directionless.
Oh, he would find a port somewhere. He would leave his passengers on
dry land, and stay himself, perhaps, for a day or two, and then move on.
That much he could do. But no more.
To the world we were gods. . . .
The world was mistaken. They were not gods. They were only men, like
the slaves in the Land of the Dead, like the savages in the new lands. Seeds
in the wind, to light and bloom and die, and then blow away.
He breathed deeply, smelling the air, acrid with smoke and bitter with
remembrance, yet carrying still the scent of the eternal ocean.
Only men, for whom life was short and painful and precious.
He shouted into the fog.  All hands, back to your posts."
 Aye, aye, sir." Feet scrambled around him.
This, too, would be a new day.


book 5. genisis.

Deep.
The devil lived here.
Sam floated under the waves, carried back by the powerful current drawn to Atlantis. The sea was reclaiming its
own, and he was part of the sea.
All spirit now, his body visible, naked in the dark water
but no longer quite a part of him, he saw beneath the sea
the vanished city of Olympus, its broad paved streets, its
temples reduced to jagged lumps of stone, its citizens horrific cadavers, already bloated with death.
That would pass. The bodies would feed the fish. There
was a purpose for even the most useless of creations.
The souls, though, that was different. They went on,
intact, scrambling for a place to dwell, complaining when
they found it, then bitter to leave. The cycle of birth and
rebirth was endless, or could be.
He thought perhaps he would not come back another time. There had been so many
lives, after all, and each one a pitiable struggle, usually for foolish ends a soldier's
death at the heartfelt but idiotic command of some general or other   a priest's suicide
because of some imagined sin.
And this one! Twenty-nine years spent in the wrong time. It made no sense, even
now with his head finally clear and able to think.
He had gotten back or forward, or sideways, depending on how one looked at
time but it hadn't seemed to make much difference. He hadn't changed a thing.
Hadn't done any good whatever. A waste of a life.
He wished that the tenuous strings holding him to his body would let go. Sam
Nowar had been a particularly resilient receptacle, at least physically. He wanted
to shake it loose, this flesh, get on with things, be free.
Free . . .
His thoughts vanished at the sight of a curious structure, an odd assortment of
stones inside a cave. It came to him then. The Stranger's shrine. That small mis 
shapen pile of rocks where a man with no name had come to write his testament.
It was still intact, still as it had been.
Some things always survive.
Sam and his body moved closer to it. Even here, under the ocean, it was a place
of peace. No wonder Athena had loved it sO.   
The eyes in Sam's body began to weep.
Athena.
I will never leave you. . . .
He had told her that, but in the end he had left. He had left without even a
struggle because he had lost the stone.
Oh, Athena.
The music played for him now, tinny and frozen. He was so far from her. His
body swam down, closer to the grotto.
Come back, my love, my love forever
Closer yet, the body scraping against the ancient walls of the cave.
We can change the course of things to come.
Athena . . .
And then the music swelled and carried him through the grotto,  trembling,
terrified, suddenly burdened again with the body he had longed to shed, shaking
in spasm, bug-eyed, screaming finally when he saw the man in the wetsuit swimming
toward him.
The mouthpiece went in. Sam breathed and let himself be pulled back to the
submersible and put inside.
It was warm there, and light. As be lay on the floor of the metal ship, a familiar
blackface leaned over him and said:  You're alive."


CHAPTER      1.


WHERE'D YOU GO?" WOODSON ASKED.
 Where . . ." Sam laughed weakly.
 When I first went into that cave, you were gone. And then a second
later you were there, right in front of me. Buck naked."
Sam looked down at himself. Naked. He had lost the robe he had been
wearing, lost it in the water . . . with his body. . . .
 Where's your gear?" Woodson persisted.  What happened to the shark?"
 Shark?"
Had there been a shark? Yes, there had. Weeks ago, or months, or some 
where in a dream. He could not quite remember.
 The shark, man. It followed you into the cave. I expected you to look
like Tuna Helper by now."
 The shark . . . okay, yeah." Sam ran his fingers through his wet hair.
 We were diving. There were two guys. You killed one."
 I killed both of them. Sam, is this the Rapture?"
 I. . . I don't know. No, I don't think so.  He squinted his eyes at Woodson.
 Did you say I was only gone for a second?"
Woodson shrugged.  Well, it took me a couple of minutes to reach the
cave but . . . what am I talking about, of course you weren't actually
gone     "
 But I was, I left for a long time. I was living in    Atlantis," Sam said
with wonder.
Woodson reached for the control panel.  I'm taking you to a hospital."
 No." Sam grabbed his arm.  It isn't the Rapture. I don't know how to
explain how it happened, but it did happen. Right here. Those metal cylinders we saw are the cores of two cantilevered pyramids. The cave where
you found me was a shrine."
He studied the underwater scene on the other side of the submersible's
glass bow.  Over there was the harbor where the fleet docked, and beyond
it were the canals, three of them, ringing the city of Olympus."
 Olympus," Woodson said flatly.
 And in the center was the volcano."
 The what?"
 The volcano. You saw it. So did I. And Carol Ann. All the Rememberers
did. That's what we were all remembering, Harry. The volcano that destroyed
Atlantis."
He stared out into the sea.  It stood right where Memory Island is. The
island. That's all that's left of Mount Olympus."
Woodson looked at him quizzically.  You're serious, aren't you?" he said.
Sam met his eyes. In them, Woodson saw the pain of a thousand lifetimes.
This was not nitrogen narcosis, he realized. This was a man who had experienced the impossible.
 I'd better surface," Woodson said.  Keep talking."
As he brought the sub up, Sam began to relate his experiences on the
other side of the cave.
 That's why our blood is different," he interrupted himself.  It's the
Stranger's blood. The same blood Zeus had. And Athena . . ."
He felt his heart break.
Why did I have to go back, just to leave her again?
 Look," Woodson said as they reached the surface.  The speedboat. I'd
forgotten about it."
The powerboat belonging to the divers bobbed only a few feet away
from the sub. Far away, in the place where Woodson had submerged, their
own rowboat drifted idly.
 We can take their boat back," Woodson said.  They sure won't be
needing it anymore."
He maneuvered the submersible close to the powerboat, then rigged up
a towline between the two vessels as Sam crawled out of the hatch.
 They left their clothes on board," Sam said, picking up a sweatshirt and
a pair of jeans that were folded neatly over a pair of deck shoes.
 Good. I was getting tired of looking at your bare white butt."
Woodson hoisted the small anchor, revved up the engine, and set off
with the submersible bobbing along behind.
 Beats rowing," Sam said with satisfaction.
Woodson cocked his head at him.  You were talking about our blood,"
he said.  Who did it come from?"
 No one knew his name. He was a stranger, like me. That's what they
called him. The Stranger."
 And he was a psychic?"
Sam thought for a moment, then nodded. It was better, he decided to
keep the more exotic aspects of the Stranger to himself.  The first psychic.
And then the trait was pretty scarce down the years, until it appeared full 
blown with Zeus. But a lot of them, not just Zeus, must have carried the
gene, or whatever it was that produced the blood we have."
Sam's face lit up.  That means they made it," he said excitedly.  The
survivors from Atlantis found their way to other places. That's how civilization really happened. They brought farming and metalworking and writing
and mathematics and music to every piece of the Earth they could reach."
He thought of Prometheus.  In their way, they all gave the gift of fire."
 Zeus?" Woodson shook his head.  Now don't get too far ahead of me."
 Zeus was a real man, Harry. A king, just like it said in your book. And
the diamond was his thunderbolt. They called it the Eye of Zeus." He looked
away.  And I lost it."
 The diamond that was lost in the sea," Woodson said thoughtfully.
 You're the one who lost it!"
 Right," Sam said expectantly.  So?"
 And you're the one who found it again." He smiled.  Don't you see?
It's come full circle. That's probably why so many weird things are happening
now."
 With a stranger it began . . ." Sam whispered.
 What's that?"
 A saying. It was carved in stone in their language.  With a stranger it
began; with a stranger shall it begin again. "
 What does that mean?"
Sam hung his head.  I still don't know."
Unable to sleep after Sam and Woodson had left in the predawn blackness,
Darian had climbed to the small plateau atop the island and begun to
construct a rock and mud barricade.
As daylight began to insinuate itself over the sea, first Cory came up to
help him, then Carol Ann. Working together, they built their crude fort, but
Darian knew it would be a paltry defense against whatever Saint  James was
sending against them.
 I'm sorry, ladies," he said.  I wish I could do better for you."
 It's all right," Carol Ann said.  We all knew this time was coming. Reba's
right. No matter what happens, we need to be here now. Together."
They all looked at one another with the same unspoken thought: But
we're not together. Two of us are missing. We're not whole anymore.
Just then Reba puffed her way up the hill, her eyes frightened as she
approached them.
 What's is it?" Darian asked.
 It's Sam," Reba answered, almost in a whisper.  Something's happened
to Sam."
 I feel it, too," Carol Ann said. Her hand flew to her forehead and she
looked at Cory, who nodded.
 What's happened?" Darian growled.  He get hurt out there?"
 Not hurt, exactly," Reba said.  More like . . . vanished. He's gone,
Darian."
McCabe scowled.  I don't know what you're talking about. Is he dead?
Is that what you're saying?"
Cory shook her head.  No, he's not dead. Just . . . gone. I didn't know
how much I'd felt his presence before, but it's not there any longer." She
looked at Reba, her countenance imploring.
 Kind of like he stepped in some kind of bubble," Reba said.
 There's music, though." Carol Ann looked at Darian with her far-seeing
eyes.  Beautiful music that just keeps getting louder, until . . ." She turned
to the old woman.  You have to find him, Reba."
 Me? How?"
 The way you found him before. That's your gift."
The old woman thought.  Then it's going to take all of us." She linked
hands with the girl.  Me to find him, you to protect him, Cory to love him."
Cory blushed as she took Carol Anne's hand.
 And you too, Darian McCabe."
 Hogwash," Darian said.  I've got no gift."
 You understand him," Cory said. She held out her hand to him. Reluctantly, he placed his big bony palm over hers.
 This better not take long," he muttered. He glanced at his wristwatch.
Seven fifteen.  In case you haven't noticed, it's a hell of a time for a seance."
 Sam," Reba said softly, ranging her mind over the sea.  Sam, honey . . ."
They all felt the water at once. They gasped, choking, as they came up
facing two pyramids, then turned to see the shark swimming up fast behind
them.
A man on board a strange-looking sailing ship came into view. Darian
jerked upright.
 McCabe, it's you," Reba said.
Darian could not answer that he looked nothing like the sailor in the
vision they were seeing. He was gulping salt water with Sam, his pulse
racing as he tried to flee the attacking shark.
The man on the ship threw a weapon and the tiger shark thrashed wildly,
streaming blood. A few minutes later, the body that encased the four of
them along with Sam was hauled out of the water and dropped onto the
deck of the ship.
 We're inside him," Cory said in a small voice that sounded very far
away.  Sam's eyes are seeing this."
The tall gray-haired sailor who had saved Sam's life was examining him
suspiciously from a distance. When he finally turned away, he spoke one
word that they all understood: Atlantis.
It came on them then, all at once. Huddled together, hands joined on
their little piece of rock, Cory, Darian, Reba, and Carol Ann lived inside
Sam's mind, viewing his new world as he himself saw it: the sacrifices, the
king, the rebellion, the fires, the inside of the dungeon with Athena. Twice
Reba called out to him and tried to bring him home, but both times she
sank back into silence, defeated.
The images continued. The fires, the battle, the eruption that blew the
kingdom apart, and then Sam, washed off the railing of a ship, hurtling
finally into the sea.
And there it ended. The vision faded. The four of them on Memory Island
sat mutely in a circle, their eyes closed tightly in pain and sadness.
Then Reba shouted,  Hold on, folks. Something's out there."
 Woodson!" Darian exclaimed.
Carol Ann swallowed.  Sam's back."
 He's safe," Cory said, falling back against the rock behind her. Carol
Ann embraced her, trembling with joy.
Darian shook his head and breathed deeply for the first time in what
seemed like weeks.
Well, it's been weeks, hasn't it? he thought groggily.
He looked up at the sky. The sun was in the same position it had been
before the group had begun its strange odyssey with Sam. He checked the
time.
It was still seven-fifteen.
Darian shook his watch. It was ticking.  Don't make sense," he muttered.
 What don't?" Reba asked.
The minute hand on his watch clicked over one notch.  Seven sixteen,"
he said numbly.  How long were we with him, Reba?" he asked.
 I don't rightly . . . why, it must have been a couple months," she said,
surprised.  But we didn't none of us eat nothing in all that time." She
squinted into the sun.  And here it is still daylight."
Darian stood and leaned against the waist high-barricade.
It was the island, he knew.
Jamie had seen visions here. Darian himself had heard the voice calling
through the fog those long years ago. There was something on Memory
Island that increased the Sight in those who had it.
Including himself.
There was no point in denying that anymore, particularly since they were
probably all going to die here.
On the island.
He picked up his rifle. Sam was alive. There might still be hope.
Stiffly, he walked away from the circle.  I'm going to take another look
around," he said.
He walked for a few feet along the beach, then snapped rigidly to attention. Less than a mile away, a ship was racing toward Memory Island. From
thirty degrees east came another.
Darian loped along the shoreline. Another ship was visible just over the
horizon.
They're going to surround us, he thought, feeling sick.
He kept walking. To the west, close enough for Darian to read its name,
was Aidon Saint  James's yacht, the Pinnacle.
About a mile south of Memory Island, Woodson cut the boat's motor.
 Trouble," he said.
The island was ringed by ships, ocean-going yachts of two hundred feet
or more. There were five of them, and space for a sixth.
Sam picked up a pair of binoculars left on the speedboat.  That's Saint 
James's tub. Looks like he's brought reinforcements, too."
 He's going to a lot of bother for six people."
 Can we call the Coast Guard?" Sam asked.
Woodson sighed.  I've been trying, but I can't get anything out of this
radio. Those ships must have all the frequencies jammed." He walked back
to the tow rope.  Still, if they're out here, it means our guys are probably
still alive. Give me a hand here."
 We've got to go in," Sam said.
 We will. In the sub. We can shoot back through to that vacant spot to
the west. That's where I got the rowboat. There's a channel there. They'll
never see us."
He was right. Stacked on either side of the channel were the rotting hulls
of four rowboats, covered with tarps and secured by wires. They surfaced
the sub inside the channel, then covered it over with loose brush and crawled
on their bellies between boulders toward the interior of the island.
 Hold it," a voice barked above them.  Don't move one muscle."
Poseidon?
 Now get out here where I can see you."
Sam rolled over and looked up. It was Darian McCabe.
 Sam," the old man said softly. He extended his hand, then pulled Sam
up and caught him in a hug. It was the first time in Sam's life that Darian
had ever held him.
 I'm okay, too," Woodson said, brushing off the front of his jeans.
Darian laughed and swung an arm around him as well.
 Who do they belong to?" Sam asked, indicating the ships.
 Hell if I know. But Saint  James is one of them, so you can bet they're not
here to throw us a party. They sent a diver to take the propeller off my
boat. And they've jammed the radio."
 Sounds like you've done a great job looking after things while we were
gone," Sam said drily.
Darian grunted.  Shouldn't have been gone."
 We could take the propeller from the submersible," Woodson offered.
 I could put it back on underwater."
 No point, least not while those ships are here. Brand new, the Styx
couldn't outrun a one of them. But I was thinking about rigging up some
tripwires out of fishing line, in case some of these fancy-ass sailors decide
to pay us a visit. Want to give me a hand with that?"
 Sure," Woodson said.
 There are some blasting caps, too," Sam said.  We used them on that
canal job. Might even have a few sticks of dynamite left."
 Interesting," the black man said.  Let's see what else you've got."
Aidon Saint  James held a pair of binoculars to his eyes.  Here comes the last
of them," he said to Penrose, who squinted to see past the island onto the
sun-dappled ocean. To the east, a huge pleasure craft sped toward the hole
in the ring of ships surrounding Memory Island.
 Every one of those vessels is equipped with enough explosives to level
a square city block," he said.
Penrose lowered his own binoculars, frowning.  Do you think that will
be necessary, sir? There are only six people on the island."
Saint  James looked amused.  Then we'll be sure to get them, won't we?"
He waved the man away.  Get in communication with the ships. Have them
stand by for my orders."
 Yes, sir," Penrose said.
Six people, Saint  James mused. The idiot thought it was about six people.
But then, it had taken some time for Saint  James himself to understand. He
had gone through the testament dozens of times in the past days, piecing
together odd bits of information, inferring others from pages which had
been copied incorrectly or nearly disintegrated with age.
But he knew now.
He knew how to keep Hades's promise.
There will be no human gods on this Earth again, Saint  James had vowed
at his initiation, as his ancestors had, as just yesterday his son Liam had
also vowed.
No human gods. It was the only way to ensure that no one with the
Stranger's Power would ever again come to claim the Earth as Zeus had
claimed Atlantis.
Hades had written his testament during his last years in a primitive place
now known as Egypt, where he had suffered from an ailment which would
have been easily cured in a civilized country. But there were no civilized
countries any longer. Zeus had seen to that. He had destroyed Atlantis in
order to send the Power out into the world.
That Power had remained scattered and dilute for millennia, seeping into
the population generation by generation, until those who possessed the
Stranger's blood hardly recognized it in themselves. The Consortium could
only find them one at a time, with painstaking effort. Without the Eye of
Zeus, the people of the blood would always remain separate from one
another.
But the stone had come back.
And so, strangely, had the land.
According to everything Hades had written about the location of Atlantis,
its midpoint Mount Olympus stood exactly at the spot where Saint  James's
ship was now facing.
Memory Island. It was the last remnant of the brilliant nation which had
once dominated the world.
And Zeus's people found sanctuary there.
They had found it before, during the time of Edward Bonner's famous
experiment. Saint  James's father had eliminated the Rememberers then, but
even he had not guessed the island's secret. How many times through the
ages had that insignificant-looking rock sheltered Zeus's kin, strengthening
their power, forcing them to  remember" a time before most of mankind
possessed even the knowledge to plant wheat?
It was the land that kept their power alive. Saint  James knew that now. The
land itself.
It was their home, their place of belonging.
Without it, they would die.
The others were already coming, he knew; the stone called to them from
the far places of the earth. The stone would lead them to the land. That
was the prayer Zeus had invoked during his final moment.
But there would be no land. Within an hour, this pustule on the Atlantic
would be gone beneath the water. The voyagers would come, not knowing
why they were making the journey. They would come to the stone.
And Aidon Saint  James had the stone.
No human gods.
The promise would be kept.
Liam sat in his stateroom where he had been all day. His senses were still
numb after his initiation into the Consortium last night.
The blood, there was so much blood. . . .
His nose was running; he did not notice. He rocked back and forth on
the bed, trying to block out the memory of the man whose body had jerked
in spasm as the curved blade in Liam's hand cut into his beating heart.
The image had never left him, not for a moment. It was there behind the
words a mountain of words which had been spoken to him, words that
had addressed all the questions of his life: who he was, what he did, why
he lived.
He wished now he had never heard the answers.
His lessons had been in the history and language of Atlantis.
Atlantis!
The very sound of it had always sent a thrill up his spine. The lost
continent, the place where the legends began.
Now he knew that the legends were true. Zeus, Athena, Apollo, Hephaestus, Poseidon. . . they had actually lived, long before the Greeks worshiped
them. And there had been another, too, one he had never read about in
books of mythology. He had no name. He was called only the Stranger.
The Consortium hated the Stranger. In the testament, he was called the
seed of evil. In the testament written by Liam's ancestor, Hades.
That was whom the Consortium worshipped. Hades, God of death.
Liam rocked on his bed, hearing the sacrificed man's muffled screams,
seeing his pulsing blood.
The Stranger had the Power. It was what made him inhuman. Or maybe
he was inhuman, a revolting, atavistic monster, or some gross-looking
mutant from a swamp somewhere.
But he could heal. He could understand a person without hearing words.
He could communicate with the stars.
He was like the girl in the hospital with the golden hair. The Consortium
was going to kill her. Today, on the island the Pinnacle was facing.
He was like Sam Smith, who had saved Liam's life by listening to words
never spoken. Sam was on the island, too.
And he was also like Liam, in ways no one knew.
Last night Liam found the answer.
It would be his life's work to kill people like them. Like the Stranger.
Like himself.
Because of his fear of his father, he had mouthed the words of a vow to
eliminate their kind forever.
Now it is possible, his father had said, holding before Liam the diamond
that Zeus the Thunderer had left his people as his legacy. You have the
answer now.
The answer was to destroy their island, the last vestige of the living earth
of Atlantis.
There will be no human gods on this Earth again.
Liam would be the last leader of the Consortium. After him, there would
be no one with the Stranger's blood left to kill.
No more gods.
Slowly he rose from the bed. He wiped his nose. He stood erect.
 That is not the answer," he whispered.
His father was on deck, talking on his portable phone. Liam walked past
him into the dining room, then up the stairs and down a corridor to Saint 
James's office. There he smashed the lock on the gold chest. Inside was a
soft leather pouch containing the diamond.
Liam took it, then walked aft, on the starboard side where his father
could not see him. He removed his shirt, tied the cords of the leather pouch
to a belt loop on his trousers, and dove into the sea.
When Darian entered the bridge of the Styx, Woodson was sitting in the
captain's chair, surrounded by a litter of electronic debris.
 What the hell have you done to my radio?" he demanded.
 It wasn't working anyway," Woodson mumbled.  Just a sec." He bent
over something in his lap, his knotted fingers laboring painfully over a series
of fine wires. He wiped the sweat from his forehead.  Tricky bugger. There."
He held up his creations.  Ta-da. One remote detonator with a transmitter,
one receiver. Sam, you about ready?"
 Coming." Sam trudged up from the hold carrying two buckets of yellow
goo.  Nothing like a little homemade napalm to clear the sinuses," he said,
setting down the buckets.  I've got four more of these." He went back
below.
 I sure hope you two Einsteins know what you're doing," Darian said.
 Elementary science, Captain McCabe. We stripped the styrofoam off the
storage lockers, then mixed it with some diesel fuel we siphoned off the
tanks and added a little ether-based dry gas you had down there. The
styrofoam melts, and presto we've got a nice little surprise for Saint  James's
goons. Are the firepits ready?"
 We've just about finished digging." Darian noticed a clump of dirt on
his nose and brushed it away.  Want me to take this stuff?" He motioned
toward the buckets.
 Please. And stick the dynamite in your pockets before you go."
 Just these?" Darian asked, picking up six sticks.
 That's all you had. Otherwise, we'd be able to blow up their fleet."
 Damn," Darian said as he left with the buckets.
Sam emerged with two more buckets.  These are for you. I'll be right
behind you."
 Don't forget the blasting caps and fishing line," Woodson said, lumbering
to his feet. Over his shoulder, he slung a fat coil of wire cannibalized from
the boat's electrical system and added to some wire fishing leader from the
storage lockers. Then he picked up his two buckets of napalm and headed
for the island.
Darian and the women were leaning, exhausted, over their shovels and
picks near the last of six pits they had dug around the crown of the island,
some two hundred feet in diameter.
 Good work," Woodson said, pouring the contents of one bucket into
the pit.  Now listen up." He took one of the dynamite sticks from Darian's
shirt pocket and began to uncoil the wire.  I'm going to rig this dynamite
to the wire, one stick to a pit."
He wrapped the wire around the stick and dropped it into the napalm,
then proceeded to the next trench, playing out the wire as he walked.
 All the pits will be connected by this wire. At the last pit, I'm going to
make this bomb live by inserting a receiver into the dynamite. It won't go
off unless I transmit a signal from this detonator, but I don't want any of
us tripping over the wires and pulling out the dynamite."
He looked to each of them in turn.  We'll be safe inside this circle as
long as we're dead center. That's the barricade you built. Everyone got
that?"
They all nodded. Sam came up with the last two buckets.
 Now I'll need one of you to help me. The rest of you split up into two
teams and lay tripwires around the perimeter of the island. Sam will show
you how to set them up. Okay?"
 I'll stay," Carol Ann said, dumping another of the buckets into the second
pit. She stared at the gelatinous mixture with distaste.  Are we going to kill
them?" she asked softly.
 If we can," Woodson said.
He did not add that whatever damage their little group inflicted would
probably not change the ultimate outcome.
They would all die.
But they would all die clean, in the one place on Earth where they all
belonged.
Liam struggled in the water.
Fifty laps.
To avoid being seen, he had made a broad loop away from the Pinnacle
so that he would come in from the far side of the next yacht flanking his
father's. It may have been good strategy, but he had increased his distance
to shore by a half mile or more. There was a strong undertow too, so that
every stroke Liam took was a tremendous effort.
I said fifty. He could hear his father's voice taunting him. You disgust
me, Liam.
That's fine with me, he thought as he sliced through the water. Because
you disgust me, too. And I've already come a lot farther than fifty laps.
Sir.
His breath was loud, gasping. The muscles in his calves were beginning
to cramp. In his heart he knew there was no way he would make it all the
way to the island. It was just physically impossible.
 Then I'll go down to the bottom, damn it," he muttered, clamping his
teeth together.  But I'm not going to stop now."
One arm after the other. Push. Push.
For once, Aidon Saint  James was not going to get what he wanted.
Cory and Sam were on the far side of the island from the Styx, setting up
tripwires fashioned from nylon fishing line.
Each was no more than three feet long, but there was enough line to
virtually circle the island.
Working at a frantic pace, they carefully tied the ends of the line to heavy
stones, pulled the lines taut, then set blasting caps slightly forward of the
stones. Anyone tripping the line would dislodge at least one stone, making
it fall onto one of the blasting caps.
The tripwires would not deter anyone, but at least the loud bang from
the blasting caps would alert the six that someone was coming and give
them time to head for the shelter of the barricade.
As Sam put the last stone in place, Cory covered the wire with sand.
Then she sat back on her haunches and smiled.  Guess we're ready," she
said softly.
Sam studied her face. Its serenity, its pure beauty, filled him with pain.
Death meant little to Sam. He had lost the purpose of his life in the depths
of the sea off the sinking shores of Atlantis, Athena was gone; the voice
that had sustained him since his childhood would never sing to him again.
He would die gladly, relieved that his useless life was finally over.
But Cory deserved to live. She and the others, the Rememberers, possessed something wonderful, something that could change the future of the
entire planet for the better if they were allowed to develop their talents
fully.
They would pass on their knowledge even to those without the blood.
Together, the Remembers of the world could build a civilization greater
than Atlantis itself, because the power of Zeus would be shared by everyone.
But that was not going to happen. Hades had promised them death. And
death, not a new world, was what awaited them.
 I wish it didn't have to be this way," Sam said.
Cory bowed her head.  Me, too." She stood up abruptly.  Come on,"
she said, forcing a smile.  Let's get cleaned up. The lagoon's nearby."
Easily she made her way down the boulders protecting the shallow pool
where Carol Ann had gone fishing. She waded into the deepest part of the
lagoon and sat down, ducking her head under the sun-warmed water.
 God, that feels good," she said to Sam, who was splashing his face. She
pulled herself out of the declevity and took his wrist by both hands.  Here,
your turn."
 No, that's okay. . . ."
With a tug, she yanked him off his feet. He fell into the little pocket of
sand, legs up in the air.
 See? Just like a hot tub." She crawled out onto the sand beneath the big
rocks and slicked back her hair.
He was laughing.
She had never heard him laugh before.
She had never done anything with him, really. One guilty kiss in a hospital
office.
That was all there would ever be.
Even that had meant nothing to him, Cory thought sadly. How could it,
when someone like Athena had been with him all his life?
Sam was not a man who loved easily, she knew. He had not been reared
to tenderness or affection. But he had loved the princess from Atlantis,
loved her with every cell of his body and brain. Cory understood; she had
lived inside him then. She had seen the woman through his own eyes.
Sam loved Athena beyond death, beyond time itself, and he would never
love anyone else.
His smile faded. He was staring at her.
 What is it?" she asked.
 It's . . ." He shrugged.  It's just the light, I guess. You looked like . . .
someone. . . ."
She stood up.  We ought to find Darian and Reba. They might need
help."
Sam got to his feet.  Cory, while Woodson and I were diving this morning,
something happened to me. I went somewhere. Somewhere very strange."
His face struggled with emotion.  This isn't easy to explain.   ."
 You don't have to," she said, taking his hand.  We were there with
you."
Sam could not speak.
 It was as if we were all connected," Cory went on,  and when you came
up out of the water into Atlantis, you brought us along, in some corner of
your mind. All of us."
 Darian?" he asked finally.
She smiled.  He's the one who saw the marks on the stones inside the
pyramid dungeon. The hard part was getting Reba to understand enough
to communicate it to you."
He heard her words, but they passed through his mind like ribbons of
mist. The light was falling on Cory again and there was something shining
behind those smoky gray eyes, something deep and far.
My love, I have waited so long for you. . . .
 What did you say?"
Cory trembled.  Nothing."
/ love you. I have always loved you, and even after death, I will love
you still, for all time.
 For all   . time   ." Sam repeated.
Cory clutched the sides of her head.  Don't listen!" she cried.  Those
are my thoughts1. You don't have a right to them."
 It was you," he said in wonder. He was looking at her as if he were
seeing her for the first time.  All along, it was you."
 Don't try to pretend I'm someone else," she rasped, the tears bitter in
her eyes.  I saw Athena. I know you lost her, and I'm sorry. But I won't be
a substitute for her."
She started to scramble up the boulder, but he caught her and held her
by both arms. The music rushed into them both, loud, dizzying. He put his
mouth on hers and she felt a circle of light emanating out of her to embrace
them both.
 Sam," she whispered.
They took off their clothing and knelt, facing each other, the light pouring
out of them both. They were immortal, glowing, the music visible around
them. They loved each other then, each possessing the other's body with
a pure fire.
His spirit spoke: You've come back.
I was always with you, she answered silently. I was your mother, your
soldier, your priest. You were my friend, my student, my wild lover, my
wife. You are Sam Nowar and Jamie McCabe. I am Cory Althorpe the
physician and Athena of the royal house of Atlantis, and I have always
been with you,
Tears streamed from Sam's eyes.  I've waited so long," he said.
 We both have."
Afterwards, they lay together in the sand. He stroked her arm, still golden
with the light that was slowly passing back into her skin.
 We had a child, Sam," she said, not knowing where that knowledge
came from.  A daughter, born in Attica. I named her Pallas, for purity.   ."
She blinked.
 Cory?"
She stared at him for a long moment.  A child   . I don't remember.   ."
She touched his face.  You were filled with light, like a star. Made of light."
 Maybe that's what we really are," Sam said. He picked up a handful of
sand.  Star stuff, from some place in the universe where time doesn't exist."
"  Each of us is composed of all the sums he has not counted," " she said.
"  Subtract us into nakedness and night again and you shall see begin in
Create the love that ended yesterday in Texas. "
She smiled.  Thomas Wolfe wrote that.  Each moment is the fruit of forty
thousand years. . . . The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death
and each moment is a window on all time. "
He held her closer to him.  Do you think Thomas Wolfe had the blood?"
 I wouldn't be surprised," she said.  There's a lot of genius in the world.
Bach, Mozart, Galileo, Leonardo, Einstein   . I think they might have been
connected with something bigger than human thought. There might be all
kinds of Rememberers out there, not just pure psychics, but everyone with
something special about them."
Sam toyed with the sand he held in his palm. Each grain separate, he
thought, each sparkling with the life of a thousand galaxies.  That's every 
one," he said.
She smiled.  Then I suppose it would be possible for everyone to develop
extra senses if they wanted to."
 And knew how."
 Oh, Sam," Cory said, her face radiant.  Can you imagine what the world
would be like if we could all become what we might be?"
Then, feeling the thread of hope inside her break, her eyes dulled.  But
there won't be time for that, will there? Not for us." She touched his eyes.
 This moment is all we're going to have."
 It's all anyone ever has, Cory."
He kissed her. A bubble of light surrounded them. It had always been
there, he realized. It would always be.
He opened his hand and the sand in it blew away.
Like seeds in the wind.
Keep . . . moving . . . keep . . . moving. . . .
Liam's arms moved mechanically through the water. His legs had turned
into knotted logs some time ago. They trailed limply behind him as he
willed himself to wind mill his arms, ignoring the sharp pains that shot
through his lungs with each breath.
The shore of Memory Island was close. Already the water was warming,
though Liam thought he would never feel warm again.
His foot touched sand and seaweed. Then his knees scraped against a
bank of pebbles. Still he pushed forward, straining with his arms until his
hands brought up sand, and then he lay on his belly, tasting the salt water
that lapped up rhythmically over his face.
Gotta get up, he told himself. Someone on one of the ships is going to
see you.
Wouldn't that be just great, he thought, pulling himself to his knees. To
swim all this way, only to be returned to his father by a vigilant crewman
on another yacht.
He made himself crawl another ten feet to a pile of charred planking and
plaster before he collapsed. The huge diamond inside the leather pouch
dug into his hip.
Get up!
He forced one eye open. There was a length of nylon wire stretched taut
between two rocks in front of him.
He opened the other eye and raised his head. Behind each rock was
something that looked like a piece of black pumice. It was rectangular, with
wires curving out of it like a spider's legs.
 Blasting cap," he said, panting. One of the boys at school had booby 
trapped the toilets in the faculty men's room with some.
He examined the device more closely. Except for the fact that it had been
placed too near the shore so that the wind had blown off its camouflaging
layer of sand, it was pretty ingenious.
Liam grinned. These people weren't going to go down without a fight.
Now, maybe, with himself as a hostage, they would not have to go down
at all.
And they would have the stone. He had done at least that much for them.
Quickly he looked behind him. No dinghies from the ships. Maybe had
he had not been seen. He covered over the tripwire with sand, placed a small
piece of planking in front of it, then picked his way cautiously up the bank
to an enclave of rock, where his legs gave out.
The muscles in his calves went first, cramping violently from the instep
of his feet to the backs of his knees. He went down keening in pain, pounding
the knotted lumps with his fists.
 Damn it," he choked.  I can't stop here, I can't. . . ."
Then Liam noticed a pair of trousers. His trousers. On the legs of the girl
from the hospital.
She stared at him in astonishment.
God, I wish I'd kept my shirt on, he thought. He had pimples on his
shoulders. He tried to cover the worst of them with his hand.
She was so beautiful, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
I've tried to be brave, he wanted to say. I did it for you. And me. And
all of us.
But all that came out was,  Charlie horse."
 I'll help you," she said.
Mister Saint  James!"
Penrose skittered along the deck, the portable phone still in his hand.
 We've just had a call from the Odeon. Someone on board spotted a figure
swimming to Memory Island. They seem to think it was Liam."
 Liam?" Saint  James rushed inside.  They must be mistaken."
Penrose followed him.  The mate who saw him called the Odeon's owner.
Monsieur Messaline himself identified the boy."
They raced through the walkeway, nearly knocking over one of the
stewards, and burst into Liam's empty stateroom.
 Oh, no," Saint  James moaned.  Whatever could have possessed him
to . . ."
With a gasp, he shoved Penrose aside and dashed back the way he had
come.
Penrose caught up with him at the office, where Saint  James was standing
over the gold casket on his desk. It lay open. Pieces of the broken lock lay
beside it.
The diamond was gone.
Saint  James put one hand to his forehead.
 We can send a team in to get him," Penrose said.  There are two former
navy SEALs in your employ.   
 Shut up " Saint  James shouted between clenched teeth.  Don't you see?
He has the stone! They'll kill him for that."
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  We will send a message to the
six people on the island," he said calmly.  And then I'll go to see them.
Alone."
 Alone, sir?"
 I'll make them a deal." He examined the corners of the room as he
thought out loud.  Yes, that's it. They'll deal."
He scribbled a message on a piece of stationery and handed it to his
assistant."  Take that to the bridge," he said.  Then get on the phone to the
other ships. Tell them to hold their fire until I'm back on board. I'll give
the order for that personally. Understand?"
 Yes, sir. Of course."
 Meanwhile, I want them to get their men ready for an assault, in case
I need them while I'm on the island. If I do need them, I'll ring you on my
direct line. That's all you'll get, one ring. When that happens, signal the
ships to send in their mercenaries. They should be prepared to kill everyone
except me."
 And Liam," Penrose added.
Saint  James stared at him blankly.  Didn't you hear what I said?"
 Yes, but "
 We must recover the stone," Saint  James explained.  I can have another
son if I have to."
Inside the barricade, Reba passed around paper plates of clams and fish.
 Hope Carol Ann don't mind if we start without her," she said.  I told
her we didn't need no more."
 It won't take her long," Woodson said, chuckling.  Have you seen how
she fishes?"
 Damnedest thing." Darian raised a clam to his mouth.
 I think maybe we ought to say a grace," Reba said sternly.
Darian lowered the clam with regret.  All right. Make it a short one."
She lowered her head.  Lord, thank you for this bounty in the midst of
our trouble. Help us be strong now that we need to be. And when our time
comes to meet you, show us the path to your golden door."
 Amen," the others murmured. Darian grunted and picked up his clam.
 One more thing," Reba went on. Darian looked over at her irritably.
 Gram, if you're listening, I been wondering for a while now why this is
happening to us."
 For God's sake," Darian mumbled.
 I mean, we ain't denying that we got these gifts. I'm talking about the
Sight. We got it in different ways, but we all got it. And to tell you the truth,
we're in one heck of a pickle now because of it.
 Now, I know there's a reason and you must know what it is,  cause you
always do. There was a reason for Sam going back to that place with the
volcano. There was a reason for the Rememberers all seeing that volcano
blow. There must have been a reason why so many of them died, though
I don't expect to know what it was till I can talk to you face to face in the
land of glory."
Darian leaned back on his elbows, his eyes slitted, his fingers clenching
the clam.
 What I'm getting at, Gram, is that I think something happened back
then, in that place where Sam went, and whatever it was, it's still going on.
And us six are part of it.
 Is that right, Gram?  Cause if it is, I truly don't see no reason why we
got to die. Now, it's not that we're feared of dying. We're all ready to do that.
But it don't make no sense that we got to go just like the last Rememberers. If
we all get killed, us and everybody like us, then nobody on this Earth is
left with the Sight. What kind of a place will that be, with no seers, no
dreamers, where the dead just disappear like smoke and the living just use
up time? We're the connection between this world and yours, Gram. There's
got to be a place for us here."
 Wind it up, Reba," Darian snapped.
She glanced at him angrily.
 So I'd surely appreciate it, Gram, if you'd send us a sign that somebody
up there is still with us. It's getting scary around here, and we need some
light in this dark tunnel where we're at. Amen."
Darian sucked up his clam.  Damn thing's cold," he said. He was reaching
for another when a whistle sounded and a brilliant flash of light exploded
overhead.
Darian dropped the clam and grabbed his rifle.
 A sign," Reba squeaked.
 More like a flare," Sam said.  Stay put."
In a matter of seconds there was another whistle and then a thud as
something hit into the soft earth not far from the barricade.
It was a small metal canister, still steaming with heat. They ducked down,
prepared for a blast. Nothing happened.
Cautiously Sam got up, carrying the cup of water he had been drinking.
He walked to the cylinder and dumped the water on top of it until it was
cool enough to pick up in his hands.
Its two sections came apart. Inside was a sheet of paper.
 It's a note," Sam said.  From Saint  James." The others clustered around
him.  He wants to come on the island. To talk terms, he says."
 Terms?" Darian scoffed.  Six people and two rifles. What kind of terms
have we got?"
Sam shrugged.  He says he'll come alone. If we agree, flash a light three
times."
 I have a mirror we can use," Cory offered.
 To hell with him," Darian said.  He's been trying to kill us for days.
Why would he change his mind now?"
 I think we ought to let him come," Woodson said. He pointed to the
canister.  Because he sent us two messages."
Sam looked at the empty container, then at Woodson.
 You're holding one of them. The other message is that he has firepower
on that yacht, and equipment sophisticated enough to aim it wherever he
likes. If he wants to, he can blow the hell out of us."
Sam touched the canister with his toe.  Wouldn't it be kind of extreme
to bomb us?"
Woodson shrugged.  There'd be no bodies."
 But the Coast Guard . . . the police . . ."
 He'll be long gone by the time anyone gets here. And there are five
other ships to corroborate whatever he tells them."
 That's crazy," Sam said.
 Maybe. What's new?"
 It wouldn't be the first crazy thing that bastard has tried," Darian said.
 The whole idea about killing us in the first place is . . ."
 It's the land," Reba said, sinking to her knees. She scooped up two
handfuls of earth.  He wants to sink Memory Island."
She looked up at the incredulous faces around her.  Don't you see? It's
this place."
Cory took a step backward.  Oh, my God, yes," she said.  All of us have
become psychically stronger since we've been here. There's something
about the land itself that's increasing the powers we have."
 That's why we all felt we belonged here," Woodson said.
Sam looked at Darian.  This is what's left of Atlantis."
No one spoke for a long time. Finally Darian slung his rifle over his
shoulder.  Get that mirror," he said.
Saint  James stepped out of the dinghy and walked onto the island alone, as
he had promised.
The tripwires near the dock had been removed for his visit but the other
precautions had not been dismantled. Unseen, the barrels of two rifles
followed every step Saint  James took. When he reached the high ground near
the barricade, Sam was waiting for him.
 Where are the others?"
 You can talk to me," Sam said.
 All right. First show him to me so I know he's still alive."
Sam cocked his head.  Come again?"
 My son," Saint  James spat.  I want to see my son."
Sam sighed.  You're even crazier than I thought. Which of us do you
think is your son?"
 Liam!" he shouted.  Liam, get out here. Now!"
 You think we have Liam?" Sam asked.
 This joke is becoming tiresome. I don't think I have to remind you that
you're surrounded here. Every ship you see is armed with enough explosives
to send you all to hell and back. Now if you want to deal your way out of
that, you'd better show me what I came for."
 Which is Liam," Sam said, feeling his way.
 And the diamond."
 Ah. The diamond, too."
 That's part of the deal. You give me the boy and the stone and I'll see
that you're all taken care of."
 I'll bet," Sam said.
 No harm will come to you. We'll give you safe passage out of here, to
wherever you'd like to go. And your incomes will be assured."
Sam laughed out loud.
 I have no reason to lie to you," Saint  James insisted.  The lives of six
people mean nothing."
 Unless you happen to be one of the six."
 Now you're beginning to understand." He smiled.  You see, you don't
have to die. In fact, you can live very well, all of you. Better than you ever
imagined." He touched Sam's shoulder.  Better than your wildest dreams."
 I can't wait to hear this," Sam said.
 Don't trivialize what I'm offering," Saint  James warned.  I head an organization that can give you virtually everything you've ever wanted. A mansion
on the beach, fancy cars, anything. I can arrange for you to talk with some
of our members, if you like. They'll tell you what the Consortium can do
for you. It's a lot. An association with us would have definite rewards."
 What kind of  association" are you talking about?"
Saint  James's eyes flashed.  We would ask you to do some psychic work
for us from time to time."
 Such as?"
Saint  James gestured with his arm over the broad vista of ocean before
them.  People will be coming. Thousands of them, all with ICDL blood."
Sam blinked.  Because of the stone," he said, remembering what Zeus
had told him. The diamond would keep the Power intact.
 Yes. I'm glad you understand."
 And our job would be . . ."
 To identify them," Saint  James finished.  That's all. Just let the Consortium
know who they are."
 So that you can kill them? Is that what you're saying?"
 What difference would it make to you what happened to them?" Saint 
James reasoned.  You wouldn't know them."
 Yes, we would," Sam said. He took the man's measure with his eyes.
He remembered the night when he was on Saint  James's yacht and, in a vision,
had seen the man wearing a feathered mask and cape. They were Hades's
robes. Saint  James was one of his.  We would know them," Sam said.  We
know our own kind. And we know yours."
 Maybe the rest of your people should have something to say about this."
 We do," a voice called out as a figure walked from behind the barricade.
It was Liam. In his hand, he held the leather pouch containing the stone.
Saint  James sucked in his breath at the sight of it.
 It's still about slavery with you, isn't it, Father?" the boy asked.  That's
what it's always come down to whose life is worth something and whose
isn't. Well, if you want it, you can have mine. I'll go with you and you can
cut out my heart the way you did that poor geek who threw in his lot with
you. But you can't have these people."
Saint  James stared, speechless, at this boy . . . no, this man whom his son
had become.
 That's the offer, Dad. Me for them. Are you going to take it or not?"
 You . . . and the stone," Saint  James said.
 No deal."
 Don't be a fool, Liam. They'll kill you for that diamond."
 I don't care. They keep the stone."
Saint  James's face hardened.  Then they can keep you, too." He pressed a
button on the phone in his pocket. Aboard the Pinnacle, his direct line
rang once. Penrose heard it and sent the signal to the other ships.
 You were never worth a damn," Saint  James said.
The boy turned toward Sam, opened the leather pouch, and offered the
stone to him.
Sam shook his head.  It's not mine," he said.  I was only supposed to
hold it until the right one came along."
He looked hard at the boy, staring in his eyes. As if reconsidering, he
reached forward and took the pendant from the pouch. Then he hung it
around Liam's neck.
The stone instantly began to glow.
But before anyone could speak, around the island, the tripwires set off
their blasting caps as Saint  James's mercenaries leaped off their dinghies and
rafts and thundered up the slopes of Memory Island.
 Take cover!" Darian called and stood beside the barricade.
Liam did not move. He stood in the open, his head high, the diamond
on his chest glowing stronger, shining more gloriously than it ever had, so
brightly that Saint  James had to squint when he looked at his son. The light
seemed to pulse from the stone in waves, encompassing more and more of
Liam until his body was entirely ringed with raging light. And still it grew,
spreading like a flame into the air around him.
Sam gasped. The stone had never shone so powerfully, not even when
it had been around the throat of Zeus as he stood over the volcano.
Carol Ann stepped out from behind a cluster of rocks and stood beside
Liam. She joined hands with him and the light spread from Liam over to
the girl, illuminating her as it grew brighter, stronger, filled with power.
Their hair stood on end. In the brilliance around them, their outstretched
fingertips made long shadows. Their faces glowed with an inner fire.
Reba left the barricade to join them. Then Cory and Sam came, together,
feeling their power intensify into combustion.
Only Darian and Woodson were left. Before them, the Rememberers
stood like huge, light-filled angels. Beyond them, Aidon Saint  James was
motionless, transfixed, blinded by the light.
He's one of them, he thought. My own son.
Darian walked out from behind a tall bush, his rifle cocked, the sight
square on Saint  James's forehead. Woodson came into the clearing from the
other side, the detonator in his hand.
The mercenaries were coming. Their shouts were growing louder with
every second.
 Well?" Woodson asked.  You going to shoot him?"
Darian hesitated, then lowered the weapon.  No. I ain't about to kill an
unarmed man in front of his boy." He threw down the rifle.  It don't matter
much in the end, anyway."
Harry smiled sadly.  Good-bye, Darian."
 Good-bye, Harry." Darian stepped forward and joined the others.
Time to die, Woodson thought. He had hidden from death for twenty 
nine years, but his moment had finally come.
Reba's prayer had not been answered. They would indeed die just as the
other Rememberers had, slaughtered on this island without a hope.
Over the hill, he watched the first wave of mercenaries climbing toward
the clearing. Saint  James tore his gaze away from the five people pulsating
with their eerie light and waved on the soldiers.
Only one thing's going to be different, Woodson thought. This time, it's
not going to be easy for them.
Not this time.
He activated the transmitter. Within a split second, the dynamite in the
firepits exploded, showering the attackers with napalm. Their screams rent
the air like sirens. Horrified, Saint  James turned back, his face a mask of
outrage.
 Enjoy your victory, you son of a bitch," Woodson said as he took Darian's
hand and stepped into the light.
He felt himself vanish, felt all indecision, all bitterness, all guilt, all fear
leave him as the white fire, powerful now as the sun, engulfed the seven
of them. They were complete now; they were one being. And one thought
passed through them all, pure as starlight.
This is the beginning.
As the second wave of mercenaries approached, the sky seemed to turn
to stone. What had been a limitless expanse of blue transformed within
seconds into a single roiling black cloud, hanging low and sparking with
lightning.
Some of the soldiers looked up; others turned toward the sea, which
suddenly roared with gigantic gray waves that overturned the dinghies.
They tried to climb to the hillside as the waves reached up, swatting them
away like flies. They bobbed on the water, shrieking, bodiless heads.
Tears streamed down Darian's face as he listened to their screams. Around
him, beyond the great elemental light, bells were ringing, and the fog was
thick in the harbor.
Aidon Saint  James also saw the fog. It swept in fast as the wind, coating
both island and ocean in a vapor so dense he could almost touch its surface.
Somewhere out there was his yacht. Its bell tolled wildly as it rocked on
the waves, but he could not see it. All his eyes took in was the white fog
and, through it, the blinding light of the seven people he had planned to
kill.
 Where are you?" he screamed to the mercenaries.  Get up here, damn
you! This is Aidon Saint  James and I order you   . I order . . ."
The Earth swelled beneath him. It writhed and churned like the belly of
some huge beast giving birth. Its skin cracked and whole trees fell into the
new crevasses. They sucked the fog in with them as they tumbled down,
down so far he could not hear them hit bottom.
The beast bucked. Saint  James was thrown high into the air and then the
ground came up to meet him. In the shallow water surrounding the island,
enormous shafts of rock thrust upward through the fog. A vast plateau
emerged to the east, out of his line of sight, breaking up the yachts which
had anchored there.
Then, somewhere far out in the ocean, the red glow from an underground
volcano shimmered on the surface, boiling the water above it as it spread
like a wound beneath the blanket of mist. It grew to nearly a mile in diameter,
then shook the earth again as it shot upward, spewing lava that fell back
into the water in billows of steam.
Beside it, another volcano erupted. And a third, and a fourth, all in a
row to where the Pinnacle floated at anchor. The ship burst into flame at
once. Aboard, the man named Penrose ran shrieking down the deck, his
clothing afire.
Saint  James clung onto the bare ground with his fingers. But the earth did
not want him; not this earth. It recoiled beneath him. It shuddered, revolted
by his presence on it.
The lava from the four volcanoes formed a glowing red spit sprouting
wings on either side, leading directly to the island. Saint  James looked down
to see it, crimson, pulsating, like a long obscene tongue. It pointed at him.
It wagged its tip of flame.
He screamed once more as he felt the earth under his hands turn to sand
and shrug him off, down the hillside, down onto the beach, now white 
hot, down into the place where the water used to be, replaced now by a
shelf of burning rock. He thudded there, his blond hair frizzing to cinders.
His skin crisped. His eyeballs exploded in their sockets. Blood burst from
his ears and mouth, boiling as it arced in the air. The fat from his body
sizzled on the new rock. When he was little more than a mummy, his bones
caught fire.
He remained on the rock for some time, gray ash forming the outline of
a man on the cooling lava. Then a wind gusted up and blew his remains
into the sea as the sky opened and rain sank the cinders to the bottom.
Through it all the seven Rememberers stood, a wall of living light.
Like gods they stood, impassive, solid, protected against the rain by their
massive aura of light. It grew around them until the entire island glowed
with their essence.
Gram put her arms around Reba and laughed, her big breasts jiggling,
her hair redolent with the scents of cinnamon and fresh bread.
doctor  Edward Bonner, dressed in a white suit and a straw hat, kissed Cory's
cheek.
A host of angels, winged and magnificent, gathered around Carol Ann,
singing. Their music surrounded her like pieces of colored glass.
Two divers, gray-faced and suffering, knelt at Harry Woodson's feet. He
watched his heart open in his chest and out of it flowed forgiveness. The
divers caught it in their hands. It glowed there for a moment, shining in
their outstretched palms like liquid silver, then traveled up their arms and
down their legs and into their faces, which Woodson had never before seen.
They rose, whole and clean, then drifted skyward until they were only
specks in space, particles of Stardust.
Lars and Marie Nowar came to Sam. They touched him, and with that
touch poured into his soul all the love they had been unable to give him
in life. He trembled with the weight of it. Marie brushed her lips against
his face and placed a small object into his pocket.
 This is for you," she whispered.
Then out of Sam's body stepped a twelve-year-old boy. He was a wraith
at first, barely visible, but his flesh colored as he walked, unerringly, toward
Darian McCabe and put his arms around him.
 Jamie," the old man whispered.
 You knew I was here. All these years."
 Yes. Yes, I suppose I did."
The boy held out one hand and a woman joined them. A pretty woman
wearing a yellow enameled daisy on her collar.
For Liam, in the center, a swirl of air like a tornado descended from the
sky. It crackled with electricity, shooting off sparks. When it slowed, a man
stood inside.
He had reddish hair shot with white, a muscular lion of a man with a
square jaw and the eyes of a god. He looked over Liam critically, seeing to
his core, then smiled.
He nodded once, as if deigning this vehicle suitable, then merged into
the boy's body.
At once the light around them increased a thousand times over, filling
the sky and turning the sea to gold.
And Liam shouted, in an ancient language that all recognized, with a
voice that could command the very heavens.
 Come, people of the new Atlantis! Come to your land with your visions
and your dreams and make it live forever!"
And the Earth rose beneath the seven, thrusting them higher as the light
spread to encompass the whole horizon, higher, touching the clouds and
passing through them, higher still, until they stood alone in the pure and
rarefied air of Olympus.
Then the clouds below them parted, became soft trails of white, vanished.
The fog was gone. All that remained was land, new land, raw, steaming,
still quivering with life. It stretched for miles in all directions. To the east,
toward Europe, a series of smaller islands peeked out of the sea like stepping
stones. To the west, a single metal column rose up like a sentinel.
 The Peaks," Sam said, stepping away from the others to get a better
look.  This is just how it was."
Slowly, the glow around them faded. Reba clapped her hands over her
cheeks.  Lordie me!" she whispered.
 I'll be damned." Darian pointed down, laughing, to where the small
harbor of Memory Island had once been. The Styx was perched atop a ledge
of silt-covered rock, its sides charred but intact.
Woodson surveyed the scene with a grin, his engineer's mind already
designing bridges and roads.
Carol Ann and Liam scampered hand in hand down the mountain to a
large level expanse, thick with mud.
 This is going to be land," Liam said, wiggling his toes in the ankle-deep
soup.  Our land."
 Everyone's land," Carol Ann said. She reached into her pocket.  I almost
forgot about this." She showed him a seed.  A seagull dropped it into my
hand on the way to this place." Gently she placed it into the mud.  Maybe
it'll become a flower."
Cory came to stand beside Sam.  What's that?"
He was turning over a piece of lead, bordered with a thin strip of ancient
gold. He had recognized it at once as a fragment from the Stranger's coffin.
In its cold smoothness, he could still feel his connection with its occupant,
We can change the course of things to come.
 Just a relic," he said.  And a reminder."
Cory pulled away from him suddenly, her hand shielding her eyes.  Sam,
look!" 
He moved beside her. For a moment, the sun on the water obscured
everything with its dazzle, but then he saw them: boats and ships, hundreds
of them, thousands, curving over the horizon. Liners, fishing boats, tugs,
sailing vessels, catamarans   . all filled with Rememberers headed for a
dream each had always thought he dreamed alone.
They were all coming, coming to the place of their beginning.
Coming home.
 But why are they coming here?" Cory asked.
Sam put his arm around her.  Maybe for a second chance," he said.
Together they climbed down the mountain to meet the ships.


after word.

Poseidon was a good sailor. Many Atlanteans of the royal house survived
both the final earthquake and the long sea journey.
Hera settled in Attica, where she was almost immediately worshiped as
a goddess. With her former rivals, the Muses, attending her, she assisted in
childbirths, settled domestic disputes, and was greatly admired by the native
women, who believed her to possess the secret of eternal youth and beauty.
In her old age, she talked incessantly of the wonders of Atlantis and the
great deeds of her countrymen to the crowd of acolytes who sat daily at
her feet, listening to her tales from the land of the gods.
The Muses filled their ranks with local girls, whom they trained carefully
in the knowledge of their disciplines. The school they founded continued
for more than two thousand years.
To his dismay, Hercules also remained under Hera's yoke for many years,
although her harsh punishments did little to curb his rowdy ways. They led
him into numerous troublesome adventures which endeared him to young
men throughout Attica, and in a final irony Hera, by then quite elderly,
finally embraced him as the son she wished she had borne.
Hephaestus did return, through a roundabout route, to Timbuktu, where
he developed a unique civilization combining the magnificent technology
of Atlantis with native African customs. Because of a dire threat from the
developing Egypt, Ptah rendered the city invisible by means outlined in the
Stranger's writings. This society which worships both Ptah and his mother,
known as Malana, as a single deity still flourishes in the mists where the
engineer from Atlantis placed it.
After a tragic romance with the ardent Orion, Artemis journeyed away
from Attica to the Carpathian mountains. There she lived, first as a hermit,
and later as the leader of a band of women warriors known as Amazons.
Her twin brother, Apollo, made his way to distant Persia. He became
renowned as a physician, and his skills were developed even further by his
son Aescalapius, who became known throughout the world as the greatest
healer of his time.
Aphrodite, who was not granted a private stateroom on board the Dol 
phin, was even more bitterly dissatisfied with the primitive conditions on
land. She demanded that Poseidon take her from Attica to the more sophisti 
cated Phoenicia, which had not been destroyed by the great flood. There
she was known alternately as Astarte and Ba'al and became the darling of
the Phoenician court, introducing new delights into their worldly entertainments. Inadvertently, though, she did contribute a great deal of knowledge
about ships, having sailed often with Ares. Through her tutelage, Phoenicia
replaced Atlantis as the supreme power on the seas, even though the sails
of the Phoenician navy remained resolutely square.
Athena remained near Hera for several years, raising her daughter Pallas
as a free person. She taught Pallas weaving, at which the girl excelled, as
well as fighting. In later years, Pallas would become known as Pallas Athena.
Her protection of a tribe of Atticans resulted in the founding of the first of
Attica's great cities, Athens.
Meanwhile, Athena herself traveled far, helping thousands along the way
with her skills and knowledge. She never married. Eventually she lit upon
the soil of Egypt, whose civilization was blossoming at astonishing speed
and in a bizarre direction. There she met both Hephaestus and Hades and
made her greatest contribution to the history of that country by passing on
the Power to a group of earnest seekers. Not long afterward, she inexplicably
disappeared and was not heard from again.
Hades's ship sank off the coast of Egypt. He alone, of all the soldiers
and sailors on board, survived. There he quickly aligned himself with Osiris,
the most powerful of the primitive kings, and helped Osiris defeat his enemy
and brother, Set. As a result, Hades who changed his name to Thoth 
acquired great power and eventually ascended to the throne. As Pharaoh,
Thoth brought Egypt to world eminence and built an entire society devoted
to death. He dotted his kingdom with pyramids, though, without knowledge
of how to build them, they required thousands of slaves and vast amounts
of time to construct.
He had a son who ruled after him in his name, and his son also produced
a son who called himself Thoth. The line continued; eventually it would
be written that the king-god Thoth ruled Egypt for thirty-seven hundred
years.
Poseidon never found another home. Or, rather, it was the same home he
had always known: the sea. He sailed the world many times and wherever he
went, sailors acknowledged him with reverence.
Of all the survivors of the great catastrophe, only Poseidon ever returned to
the waters where Atlantis had once existed. The sea there was a horror of churning
mud which even the great Phoenician sailors had deemed impassable. Only
Poseidon could find his way back to the tiny island on which a boat-shaped rock
commemorated the passing of a great civilization.
There, on the rock, he placed a single seed that had blown into his hair during
the harrowing departure from its shores more than a year before. He had kept
it for this moment.
For the future, he said as he laid it upon the granite surface.
Overhead, a gull circled.