Preparations for a Swim


It wasn't hard to find the dive shop, once I consulted my map of the resort. I was greeted upon my arrival by a handsome young native man named Vaeamatoka, who apparently ran the place. "Are you certified with scuba gear?" he asked, once I'd explained what I needed. "Where will you be diving? I need to put it in the log, just in case."

I nodded. "I'm certified. We're planning on going a little ways out along the sub route, I think. Professor Laughlin liked the view and wanted to get a better look at one of the coral reefs. And maybe do a little fishing. Are there any rules against spear fishing in that area?" I figured that would cover my request for a spear gun.

"That depends, Ma'am. Could you point out the area on this map?" He put an area dive map on the table, showing the resort island of Avua'tutu and the tiny islet of Avua'tuopavo, along with all the reefs.

"Sure." I pointed to one of the reefs that the sub had passed on the tour before reaching Avua'tuopavo. It was far enough away from Avua'tuopavo so as not to arouse any suspicion...or so I hoped. I had to pick something in that general area, since it would be obvious what direction we were heading in when we left.

Vaeamatoka made a few notes on a ledger and began to test the air tanks before giving them to me. "All right. There might be a storm later in the day, so make sure you're out of the water by noon, Ma'am."

I nodded, inwardly groaning at the news. A storm. Wonderful. I hoped we'd be done with our investigation by then. "I assume I can stop by in the morning and get an update on the forecast?" I asked, knowing how much forecasts can change in a day. Although it was probably too much to hope that the storm would turn enough to miss us.

He smiled, a dazzling white against his dark skin. "Oh, yes. The very latest from the NOAA reports."

I smiled as well. "Wonderful. What kind of storm are they predicting right now? Just a set of thunderstorms, or something more serious?"

"Thunderstorms can be very dangerous on the water. Don't take them lightly," he admonished. Which wasn't really an answer, but then he was probably used to dealing with the kind of idiot tourists you always see getting rescued by the Coast Guard on T.V. - the ones who decided that surely their little boat could make it through a hurricane...

Having delivered his warning, Vaeamatoka began bringing my gear out of the back. It was a lot of stuff, and it took me a minute or so to get all of the pieces distributed in the most efficient manner to carry them. "So, are there any spots around here that you'd recommend for diving?" I asked as I loaded myself up. "If I can find a partner, I might do a little diving this afternoon, as well."

"The north end of the island has some excellent reefs and the currents aren't too bad, if you stay in the island's lee."

I had to think for a moment to recall where that was in relation to Avua'tuopavo. Avua'tutu, the island that I was currently on, was about a mile across. Its circular outer reef, which our mystery islet of Avua'tuopavo was a part of, was about two miles in diameter. So a point on the reef north of Avua'tutu should be no more than two miles from Avua'tuopavo, or maybe three miles by water around the reef's circumference. I'd been hoping for someplace closer, though, where I could scope out the island without looking suspicious. No such luck.

"That sounds perfect," I lied. "Thanks for the information." I gathered up the rest of my equipment and hauled it back to my cabana, where I spread it out and checked it all over, just to make sure everything seemed to be working properly. Deep underwater is a bad place to discover that your oxygen tank was only half full.

Once I was satisfied that the equipment was in working order, I decided to stop by the afternoon lecture. I was hoping I'd find Laughlin there, so I could make sure that he was aware of the storm. A small man, who I took to be the scheduled lecturer, Hector Bromowitz, was raving about the true location of Atlantis up on the stage when I arrived. I stopped and listened to him for a bit, curious to see what he was like after hearing of Laughlin's encounter with him. I had to admit he was entertaining, if you enjoy creepy, sweaty little lunatics positive that the governments of the world are determined to keep them from revealing the truth about the ancient world. He rambled on, showing slides and diagrams of ancient sites throughout northern Europe. It wasn't my field, but I knew a kook when I heard one.

The lecture hall was about half-filled, which made my search for Laughlin easier. Unfortunately, he didn't appear to be present. I opted to stick around for a little while, hoping that Laughlin might put in an appearance at some point. Bromowitz continued his ranting while I waited, rambling from Europe to the Americas to Siberia to the Sudan. The audience didn't seem to be reacting much to his ravings, other than with a few yawns. I guess they didn't find him any more interesting than I did. The crux of his crackpot theory seemed to be that Atlantis existed in what was now the Altiplano high deserts of Bolivia, and that acknowledged experts were merely jealous of his superior scholarship and wanted to wreck his career. Naturally, they'd be sorry when he got enough money to prove his theories.

I decided that I'd stayed long enough at this point. If Laughlin hadn't shown by now, he wasn't likely to, and I didn't think I could listen to this nonsense for much longer. I stopped by the front desk of the hotel next, looking for some word as to Theresa's condition. I was directed to the resort doctor, who informed me that Laughlin had recently been in to check on her as well. He was gone now, of course. Theresa was still comatose, and Doctor Volk hadn't arrived yet. Once he did, if she was stable, it was expected that they both would head back to the States. Since the doctor didn't think it would be a problem, I looked in on her, although I knew she wouldn't be able to talk to me. She looked for all the world like she was sleeping, her lack of responsiveness the only clue that anything traumatic had occurred earlier today. I wondered again how proximity to the cave could have affected her so strongly, when it hadn't harmed anyone else. Maybe I'd know by this time tomorrow.

Feeling slightly guilty by now for having neglected my primary mission today, I went searching for Stroeker, a task that didn't take nearly as long as I'd thought it would. I found him in the hotel lounge, in a good mood and drinking himself into oblivion. I wondered what he was celebrating. Had the buyer for his bizarre statues arrived? If so, they were keeping their distance.

Since Stroeker didn't seem to be going anywhere, I stopped by the day's final presentation at 4:00, Dr. Shannon Langtree's slide show of satellite images. She claimed these images proved the existence of ancient habitation in Antarctica, a statement that caused quite a stir, but none of the delegates appeared to take her seriously. Like Hector Bromowitz, Langtree was definitely a bit nutty, and a latter-day hippie, to boot. I wondered if all of the lectures were this bizarre. And why anyone bothered to listen to them, when they obviously didn't believe them.

The evening turned out to as uneventful as the afternoon. I sat at the bar for a bit, far away from Stroeker, and watched as he continued to pour an amazing amount of alcohol into his system. I decided that, drunk as he was, there was little chance he was going to be moving any statues tonight. At this rate, I'd be impressed if he didn't wind up passed out in a pool of his own vomit. I rather liked that image. Even better would be if he simply drank himself to death, but I knew I couldn't be that lucky.

I called it a day at 9:00, since I had to be up early and it was going to be a busy day. I'd like to say my sleep was restful and free of nightmares, but I'd be lying. My dreams were dark and oppressive, although this time I didn't remember them with any specificity. For that much, at least, I was grateful. I would have been far more grateful for a decent night's sleep, though. I was beginning to wish I'd never laid eyes on Stroeker's statues.


Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth
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All text on this page is © 2000-2002 by Kris Fazzari.

Last modified on May 19, 2002 by Kris Fazzari.