Page 130 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest
Max threw up his calloused hands. “So besides tying one hand behind our backs, dropping our guns, and picking up a Nerf bat, now we have to go in deaf, dumb, and blind?”
“Stoney’s right,” Juan said. “We don’t have a choice.”
“Said the one-legged man taking tap-dancing lessons.” Max waved a hand at Cabrillo. “No offense, chief.”
“None taken. I do a mean Watusi, by the way. Eric, given what you just said, how do you want to approach theBaktun?”
Eric tapped a few more keys on his laptop. Another window opened up on the LCD monitor displaying the past-reported “demon” attacks by theBaktun. He’d pulled those calculations together when they were first trying to find the mystery ship.
“TheBaktunwas probably on some level of radio silence when we encountered her. But it was still able to detect these ships it previously attacked, including theOregon.”
“My guess would be with a drone screen,” Juan said.
“Exactly. You see where these ships previously attacked by theBaktunare located? We used the relative distances between them to determine theBaktun’s general operating area when we first set out to find them. But as you can see by the additional information I’ve laid over this map, I’ve been able to calculate the approximate distance between the victim ships and theBaktun. The average is thirty kilometers—about eighteen miles.”
“And that’s how far her drone screens extend,” Linda said. “That’s about the limits of tripod-mounted optics.”
“We know he’s hiding from electromagnetic detection. But he can’t escape the human eye if a ship gets close enough. That boat really does want to stay invisible,” Max said.
“That’s good work, Stoney,” Linda said.
“So we park ourselves out at twenty miles. Then what?” Max asked.
“I’d make it twenty-five miles, just to be safe,” Eric said.
“I’ve got a few ideas about what to do next,” Juan said. “But first, we need to call in Eddie and his Gundogs and get them up to speed. They’ll need to work up a mission plan for a boarding party if it comes to that.”
“Let’s break for coffee,” Linda said. “I’ll call brother Seng and we’ll meet them in the team room in thirty.”
“Agreed,” Juan said. “And after that briefing, I want a meeting with all of the department heads. I want every station, every motor, every weapon, every battery, every ammo mag, push broom, mop bucket, and electric toothbrush battle ready by 0500 tomorrow. No surprises. Anything else to add?”
“I’ve got a weird question,” Linda said. “It’s been bugging me a lot.”
“Shoot.”
“What does the nameBaktunmean anyway?”
“Could mean a lot of things,” Eric said. “But abak’tunis a unit of time in the Mayan long calendar. It represents one hundred forty-four thousand days. The end of abak’tunsignals the end of an era, and the dawn of a new one.”
Everyone in the room stared at Stone like he was an alien life-form.
Max finally broke the silence. “Remind me never to play Scrabble with you, son.”
“Almost like the AI singularity,” Juan said. “Or should I say, AGI singularity?”
Eric shook his head. “No, sir. More like the end of the world.”
71
Aboard theBaktun
Captain Stokes stood bleary-eyed in the combat information center, a cup of his favorite Royal Navy tea gripped in one hand. He and Bose both had a fitful sleep, and Fierro was no better off. Being so close to ultimate success meant every moment was an existential agony as they waited for Project Q to finally launch. The countdown clock on the wall read 02:29:42.
“Sir, there’s an incoming message,” the comms tech said, touching his earpiece. He turned in his chair to face Stokes.
“Who is it, man?”
“It’s the Chinese warshipFuzhou. He wants to speak with Mr.Fierro.”
