New Atlantis

By Jane Woods

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Chapter Two

Lt. j g Mack Tim O'Neill sat at his communications station working on routine reports when a call came in over official UEO channels. Probably another personal call for one of the scientists onboard. They didn't care if he ever got his logs caught up. He was annoyed but he was a professional. His mood was not reflected in his voice. "SeaQuest DSV 4600," he answered.

"Lieutenant O'Neill," a familiar voice greeted. "It's Kristin Westphalen."

"Hello, Dr. Westphalen." He forced his voice to be militarily correct. A picture of the beautiful Dr. Westphalen flashed in his mind and his pulse quickened. He worked harder than ever to maintain his professional decorum.

"I must say," she went on conversationally "I'm really looking forward to your arrival here at New Atlantis."

"Mine?" he gasped. "You mean seaQuest's," he realized.

"SeaQuest's surely, but yours especially."

"Excuse me?"

"Lieutenant, with all these contingents of scientists from all over the world your skill with languages will be indispensable."

"Uh, Thank you, Doctor. I'll be glad to do anything I can to help." His voice was that of the consummate professional. The doctor would never know of the young man's bitter disappointment.

"I knew I could depend on you, Lieutenant, I wonder, if it's not too much trouble, if I might speak with the Captain."

"No trouble at all. I'll have to put you on hold for a minute and transfer the call to the Captain's quarters."

"Thank you, Lieutenant I'll see you soon."

"Yes, Ma'am." He put her on hold and buzzed the Captain's Quarters all the while bemoaning the fact that beautiful women only wanted him for his mind and not his body.

Captain Nathan Bridger sat at his desk laboring over tedious paperwork. 'He hadn't signed on to be a bean counter,' he complained to himself for the hundredth time. He was so deep in thought that the buzz of the intercom made him jump. He wanted to holler at something but he wouldn't take his frustration out on his crew. "Bridger," he answered in a civil tone of voice.

"You have a call from Dr. Westphalen, sir," O'Neill reported.

'What a wonderful distraction' Bridger thought with a pleased smile. He rubbed his tired eyes and ran his hand through his hair. "Thank you, Tim. I'll take it here."

"I'll put her through, sir," O'Neill said in his most official voice.

A moment later the vidscreen in his office snapped on and widened out to reveal the image of Dr. Kristin Westphalen. The weight of command and the tedium of the task at hand faded away when he looked at her. "Kristin," he smiled.

"Hello, Nathan," she bubbled happily but still managed to maintain her professional decorum.

"So, how are things going?" he asked with genuine interest.

"Well, there's all the usual problems connected with a project like this. Construction delays, cost overruns, supplies arriving late or not at all. All that's to be expected, I suppose, but by and large things are going moderately well."

"Moderately well," he laughed. "Come on, Kristin, this is me. I KNOW what it is to see a dream come to fruition. Go ahead and gush a little. I understand."

"Alright," she smiled. "Nathan, you wouldn't believe how well things are going. Sometimes I want to just pinch myself. I can't wait till you see this place."

"Do I get to pinch you?" he teased.

"We'll have to take that under advisement."

"Do you need UEO approval for everything?"

"Nathan Bridger!" she accused.

"Can't blame a guy for trying. It's been too long since we've seen each other."

"We've both been busy. You've had to build a new boat."

"You've had to build paradise."

"Paradise?!"

"Science without the military."

"Anytime you'd like to defect you're MORE than welcome."

"I'll have to take that under advisement," he teased. "Just a minute, there's someone at the door. Come in."

Cmdr. Ford entered. His eyes were on the clipboard he held in his hand. "Sir, I have the compilations of all the cargo manifests you asked for." He looked up and saw that the vidscreen was on. "Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realize...."

"Commander Ford," Kristin greeted her old nemesis.

"Dr. Westphalen," Ford nodded formally. "I'm looking forward to seeing New Atlantis."

"YOU?!" She couldn't believe it.

"Jonathan, I was just telling the doctor that I might be interested in a position at New Atlantis myself, once I teach you everything I know and can trust you with my boat."

"Hopefully, that will take quite some time, sir." Ford was every inch military decorum.

"Commander Ford is the last person on Earth I would suspect of having any interest whatever in a scientific facility," she stated flatly.

"Oh, I haven't," he agreed coolly. "My only interest is in delivering this order so the SeaQuest stop being a glorified cargo ship and get on with our REAL work. If you'll both excuse me." With that Ford  put the clipboard on the Captain's desk and left.

"Why that pompous, self-centered, anal retentive....." Kristin spewed angry insults.

"Kristin, KRISTIN," Bridger fought to regain her attention. "That was a joke."

"A JOKE?! From Commander Ford?!"

"He's mellowed. Wait and see. Under my excellent tutelage he may even be almost human before too much longer," he laughed.

"If you're waiting to teach him that you'll never get off that damn boat," she vowed.

"Hey, watch it. This damn boat is MY dream, remember."

"I'm sorry, Nathan. I shouldn't let him get to me."

"Hey, he has to have some fun too."

"He doesn't know the meaning of the word."

"He's just young and ambitious. We were that way once."

"That was another lifetime," she laughed. "Look, I just wondered if you were still on schedule."

"We're waiting on one more load of supplies, then Krieg's wish list is complete and we're on our way. Can I ask you something, Kristin?"

"Fire away."

"Why Kreig, of all people?"

"Nathan, he's very good at what he does. There is almost nothing that man can't lay his hands on. Besides I think we're safer with him on our side, don't you?"

"I suppose you're right. Well, we'll see you in a few days. Then maybe you'll tell me whatever it is you're not telling me now."

"Why, Nathan Bridger! A girl has to have a few secrets, doesn't she? Good-bye, Nathan." She hit the button that darkened the screen on Nathan Bridger's smiling face. She missed him more than she'd thought. He was right, as usual. There was something she hadn't told him. It was nothing concrete just a nagging suspicion that wouldn't go away. On the one hand, things were going well. Better than could be expected. Maybe that was it. She'd fought tooth and nail for everything she'd ever gotten and this was just too easy. Maybe she was crazy. She hoped that was the case but she was not naive enough to just hope she was wrong. She wanted proof. To that end, she had initiated her own private security team headed by another old and trusted friend from the SeaQuest. It had not been hard to lure him away from Tucker Enterprises. Manilow Crocker was a man of the sea. That was where he belonged. She pressed a button on her intercom.

"Crocker," a gruff voice barked in response.

"Manilow, could you come to my office when you get a chance?"

"On my way, ma'am." Crocker pulled his desk drawer opened. He reached behind the false back and pulled out a small cylindrical device. He shoved it into his pocket and headed for Westphalen's office. They'd discovered the office was bugged his first day here. Rather than remove the bug and tip off who'd ever planted it, they simply used this device to jam the bug so they could talk in private. They'd let everyone assume that this was a pity job that Westphalen had given her poor-old-forced-to-retire friend. He even amused himself by playing the old fool in front of others since he did not really know who he could trust. Head of security was supposed to be an honorary position but he had found that Kristin had every reason to be suspicious of someone. Kristin? Dr. Westphalen, he corrected himself. He couldn't quite bring himself to be on a first name basis with someone like her. He had to admit, though, he did like the way his first name sounded when she said it. He'd always hated that name. To him, it was a perfect argument for not letting woman name babies so soon after labor. It was too perfect a chance for revenge. He supposed when men started having the babies they could make the rules. After all, it had taken his poor mother two whole days to give birth to all 13 lbs of him - but to name him after some singer whose music got her through it just didn't seem right. He'd had to fight his whole life because kids bigger than him thought his name was funny. Well, he'd been able to change a lot of people's thinking in his day.

Crocker reached her door and knocked. The door slid opened before she'd ascertained who it was. How many times was he going to have to warn her about that? He switched on the device in his pocket and walked in. He nodded that it was safe to speak as he sat down in the chair she'd motioned him to.

"Any news, Chief? I'm sorry, I mean Manilow."

"To tell ya the truth, ma'am, I kinda prefer Chief. It's what I'm used to."

"Very well, Chief it is then," she smiled. "Any news?"

"Nothing I can lay my finger on but my gut tells me it's them reef huggers."

"You mean environmentalists?"

"Yeah, whatever. Word is they don't want ANYBODY working in this area. I mean, I could almost see their point with strip mining or oil drilling but what possible harm could a bunch of scientists do?"

"Well, I must admit, Chief, a part of me can see their point. Scientists have caused a great deal of environmental damage in the past."

"Yeah, but the ocean don't belong to them, now does it?"

"It belongs to us all, Chief. That's the whole point of this place. To learn how to judiciously and correctly govern out greatest resource."

"Well, I trust scientists with it before all those radicals."

"Did you ever think you'd find yourself defending science?" she laughed.

"Well, uh, Ma'am. A place like this is where scientists belong."

"Not on one of the Navy's submarines? It's alright, Chief, I've come to agree with you. By the way, I've just spoken with Nathan. SeaQuest should arrive right on schedule."

"Alright!" Crocker enthused. "When seaQuest gets here we'll kick some reef hugger butt! Uh, excuse me, ma'am."

"That's alright, Chief," she laughed. "It's good to have one constant thing around here to depend on."

Crocker looked past her to the large viewport over her shoulder. "The sea is constant, ma'am. Ever constant and ever changing."

"Why, Chief Crocker! You're a poet at heart!"

"There's no need to get insulting."

Captain Katherine Hitchcock looked out over the deck of the ship. Her ship, she reminded herself. The super tanker Carlton, registered out of Panama but belonging to Channing Oil. This was the biggest ship belonging to the biggest oil company in the world and they trusted her to run it. Skinny little Katie Hitchcock always working harder than the boys to beat them at their own game and now she had. She had everything in the world she ever wanted. She made more money than she had time to spend. She was well respected in her field. She had the world by the balls, to coin a crude expression. So why did she feel it was not enough sometimes?

She ran the tightest ship in Channing's fleet. And she had the best crew. She had made them the best. She'd had more luck with them than she had with actual humans. Although they were humans, she supposed, maybe they were even better. They were GELFs and with just a dozen of them she ran this whole ship. It would have taken hundreds of humans but the superior stamina of GELFs proved more than equal to the task. She had had no qualms about an all GELF crew.

The truth was, she sometimes had problems with humans. Their incessant, inane chatter and their willingness to goof off at the slightest provocation had always annoyed her. Maybe that was why she'd always been a loner. The GELFs, on the other hand had none of these annoying human habits. They carried out any task assigned without hesitation or complaint. They were the perfect crew for her.

But sometimes she found herself missing senseless human conversation or having someone to relax with. GELFs did not know the meaning of relaxing or just plain talking. Since the GELFs had been freed they had learned the sad lesson that nothing is free. They had to work to support themselves. They preferred the company of their own kind. A job like this one was perfect for them. They did their work and did not bother her with any foolishness. What more could any captain want?

"Captain, begging your pardon, sir," the GELF called Benjamin approached her on the bridge. What was it about Benjamin that managed to annoy her? Was it that he was a stickler for nautical protocol in which it was perfectly acceptable to address all officers in the masculine that rubbed her the wrong way? Was it his whiney voice? Was it his name?

"Yes, Benjamin, what is it?"

"You asked for the weather report, sir," he reminded her. "You wished to be appraised of that storm." He handed her a computer printout.

She took it and read it. "It'll be a pretty good blow." She purposely used the vernacular knowing it confused the GELFs. "But nothing we can't easily ride out."

"You advise no course change," he surmised.

"No course change," she said stoically then returned her gaze to the horizon without formally dismissing him. He returned to his post without even realizing he'd been insulted. She wondered if it was possible to insult a GELF. She doubted it. That petty human behavior that she'd always deplored was absent from everyone in this crew - except herself. She desperately needed for this tour to be over with. Failing that she'd settle for a drink. Tonight, when her watch was over. Even though she was the captain, she was still Katherine Hitchcock and she did things right.

Brody's fancy maneuvers worked for a while but these renegades were not giving up. He'd even managed to wing one of the deltas but the other three were relentless and finally the laws of probability took over and the launch took a bone jarring hit. They spun out of control for a few minutes but Brody was able to regain his trim.

"That one hurt," Ortiz stated.

"Go see how bad it is," Brody commanded, not taking his eyes off his instruments. "Half of these are out," he commented for Ortiz' ears only.

"We'll help," Lucas volunteered, hoping he didn't sound as scared as he felt.

"Sorry, guys, this is a Navy thing," Brody told them. "You two are only in the Navy in Lucas' dreams - just stay strapped in tight."

Ortiz climbed past them and into the passenger/cargo area of the launch. "Oh shit!" Ortiz hollered back to them.

"How professional," Brody muttered under his breath.

Ortiz popped back up the ladder. His pants were wet up to his thighs. "We're really taking on water." He grabbed the pump from its place under Dagwood's seat.

Brody decided he had to level with them."Dagwood, go give him a hand. Lucas, come up here and help me. Half of this stuff is fried. See if you can get communications back up but strap yourself in. They're not done with us yet." He indicated the blips on the still working sensor screen. "Grab onto something. They're making another run at us," Brody called out to Dagwood and Ortiz in the passenger bay.

They had found the leak. Dagwood shoved the cargo aside and Ortiz knelt in water up to his chest to set the pump in place. An hydraulic hiss signaled the pump kicking in. Ortiz stood up hoping it was enough.

Suddenly the craft was hit again. The force was great enough to knock the pump out of place. Ortiz also lost his footing and slid beneath the water. Dagwood held on tightly to a large cargo canister and fished Ortiz out of the water.

He came up choking and gasping. "Don't worry about me. Get the pump. The pump," Ortiz could barely say while he desperately gulped air.

Dagwood made sure Ortiz had a good hold on the canister before he let go of him, then he dove beneath the rising waters to try and re-attach the pump. The force of the incoming water made this a Herculean task but finally the GELF locked the pump into place. Bubbles in the water indicated that the pump was once more stemming the tide and the water level slowly began to drop. "Did we do it?" he asked.

"So far, so good," Ortiz yelled over the noise.

"Hang on back there," Brody warned. "I'm losing helm control!"

The shuttle spun dizzily then came to a rest listing badly to the side of the craft that had been breached. Water sloshed over Ortiz' head once more and once more Dagwood pulled him to safety. "Thanks, Dags," he coughed as Dagwood shoved him onto the high side of the shuttle. But once he got his breath he noticed something that took it away again. A four foot section of the bulkhead was bowing in. "Uh oh."

"That is not good, is it?" Dagwood surmised.

"That is very not good," Ortiz agreed as he half swam and half jumped to the ladder leading to the cockpit. He pulled himself up to the door. "Lieutenant, it looks like we got about a four foot tear in the outer hull and the inner hull is about to lose its integrity."

"We're dead in the water anyway. I'm afraid we're going to have to ditch," Brody told them.

"Isn't that what the pirates want? They're after the cargo aren't they?" Lucas objected.

"Lucas, that hull is concaving and under that pressure it'll be like an eggshell before long. We gotta abandon ship while we still can," Ortiz pulled no punches as he gathered some data disks and emergency supplies.  They all began grabbing jackets and survival packs.

"How are you coming with communications?" Brody asked Lucas as he set a timer.

"I can't get an emergency frequency but here's an auxiliary channel."

"Will it reach seaQuest?"

"It should. Theoretically ......"

"We got no time for theories. Ortiz, get them into the pod."

"What about you?"

"I'm right behind you. Just gotta send a mayday. Now GO."

Ben Krieg walked onto the bridge of seaQuest. Everyone was caught up in their work and no one noticed him. He spotted a familiar face and walked up to Tim O'Neill. "Say, O'Neill, how's it hanging?" He knew O'Neill found crude language vulgar so he always tried to use it around him.

"Hello, Ben." This time O'Neill did not cloak the disgust in his voice. "You really shouldn't be on the bridge, you know."

"Lighten up. I just wanna see the changes they made."

"Ben, regulations clearly state that civilians...."

"Good, old, diligent O'Neill. Ever the stickler for details and I ask you, where'd it ever get you?"

"Well, uh, I am still with seaQuest." He tried to put it delicately. Everyone knew it was Kreig's constant schemes and screw ups that cost him his career.

"I'm here too, don't forget, Pal. And I'm just a carefree passenger while you're burdened down with paperwork and God knows what else."

O'Neill's look hardened but before he could make a reply Kreig wandered over to bother Lt. McKenna. O'Neill just shook his head with disgust.

Ensign Lonnie Henderson let a screwdriver roll off the top of her position and fall on the floor behind O'Neill. She walked around the console and stooped to pick it up. "I hear Commander Ford used to fool around with his wife when she served onboard seaQuest," she said in a stage whisper.

"What?!" O'Neill yelped then lowered his voice. "Where did you hear an ugly rumor like that?"

"It's all over the boat."

"Well, for one thing she was his ex-wife for another I doubt very much high ranking officers 'fool around'."

"Why not?" she smiled mischievously. "We do."

"Lonnie!" He hissed blushing deep purple.

She just smiled all the broader and straightened up with the screwdriver in her hand. She flipped it end over end and caught it. She raised an eyebrow at him and went back to her station.

O'Neill wondered why his friends, as well as his foes, plotted to make his life miserable. He scanned the frequencies just to get his mind on something else. Suddenly he heard something very disturbing. He listened more closely. He shouldn't be hearing it where he was hearing it but there was no doubt about what it was. In his excitement he jumped to his feet and hollered across the bridge to the captain who was by the moonpool with Darwin.

"Captain, I have a Priority 6 call coming in, although not on the proper channel."

"Put it on the screen, Lieutenant." Bridger came to attention.

"Uh, sir." O'Neill pointed with his chin to Kreig. He couldn't put up a classified call with unauthorized personnel on the bridge.

"Get the hell off my bridge, Kreig." Bridger dispensed with ceremony.

"Uh, I think you're forgetting I'm no longer in the military. You can't order me around."

"I think you're forgetting I'm the captain. I can order you shot."

"Point taken. I'm getting the hell off your bridge." Kreig made a half hearted attempt at a salute and walked to the bridge exit. Kreig knew nothing if not how to listen to conversations he was not privy to. From a safe distance he spied on the bridge.

"I have audio only, sir. And the signal is weak," O'Neill advised. "I'm feeding it to the speaker now."

The speaker crackled to life and though there was a constant dull hum on the signal Brody's voice could be made out faintly. "M R 4 to seaQuest. Mayday. Come in seaQuest."

"This is seaQuest. We copy you, Jim, but you're breaking up. Hold for the Captain," O'Neill advised.

Two loud squeals and some static was all they could hear at first. O'Neill worked furiously to clean up the signal.

"......attacked by four Delta class subs of unknown registry. We got one but have been disabled and are taking on water. [screech. snap] no choice but to abandon launch."

"I understand, Lieutenant."

"SeaQuest, please be advised we are leaving vessel in Mode 86 due to proximity of hostiles. I repeat, I am engaging Mode 86"

"I concur, Lieutenant," Bridger went on.

Very faintly in the background Ortiz' voice was heard. "Come on, Lieutenant This thing's gonna blow any second now."

"Go ahead, Jim," Bridger commanded.

"Have a computer link up," O'Neill sang out as seaQuest began downloading data from the launch.

"GO!" Bridger hollered.

"M R 4 out," Brody signed off but before he did they heard the sound of metal tearing like fabric and a loud bang.

Brody stood for a minute at the cockpit hatchway trying to survey the damage. The inner hull had given way and the force of the onrushing water had shorted out the lights so it was pitch dark in the passenger/cargo section. He snapped on his small but powerful flashlight. Submersibles were designed to be quiet. This one was anything but. He could hear the groan of metal as the hull buckled under the pressure of the water. The torrents of sea water flooding the cabin roared. Loosened cargo slammed against the bulkheads. He played his light across the scene till he found the life pod. Lucas and Dagwood were already inside. Both covered their ears against the murderous pressure. His own ears began to pop immediately. Ortiz clung to the short ladder leading to the pod. Water rushed by him at his shoulder level threatening to tear him from the ladder. Brody could see his knuckles were white under the water so tightly did he grasp the ladder.

"Hurry up, Lieutenant," Ortiz hollered above the din. "Swim for it!"

Brody dove into the mad water. It was only a little over thirty feet to the pod but his shoulders and lungs burned with exhaustion in less than half that distance. The current was so strong it slammed him time and again into the bulkhead or a cargo canister. He became disoriented more than once in the dark. The waters continued to rise. He'd dropped his flashlight but someone in the pod waved one. He concentrated on that and only that till at last he was pulled from the water by Dagwood. Lucas pulled him farther into the life pod and strapped him into a seat while Dagwood dragged the choking Ortiz onboard and closed the hatch.

Brody had regained some of his sensibilities by that time. "Make sure he's strapped in, Dagwood," he gasped as he activated the escape mode on the capsule. He was glad the pod had a completely independent power source. "Everybody ready?" He hit the red knob that started the eject sequence.

"5, 4, 3, 2,...."

Their ears popped too loudly to hear Brody's final count. Violent waves of vertigo hit them as the life pod blasted free of the doomed shuttle on its way to the surface.

Onboard the SEA WOLF the command ship of the small delta fleet the XO blasted the communications man who poured over a UEO code book. "What the hell is Mode 86?" he demanded for the third time.

"Ah, here it is," the communications man said with great relief. "It's, uh a self destruct command, sir."

"They'd just blow it up? All that high priced equipment?"

"Apparently so."

"Get me the captain," the XO was exasperated.

"Aye, sir." The communications man buzzed the Captain's quarters.

"Yes," the Captain answered.

"The crew has abandoned the vessel, Captain," the XO reported.

"Very good," the Captain laughed. "Then under the International Laws of Salvage, she's all ours."

"Well, there might be a complication, sir."

"What complication?"

"The vessel was left in a self destruct mode."

"They wouldn't do that," the Captain swore then turned to his drinking partner. "Would they Mr. Channing?"

"They're bluffing," Rupert Channing Jr. proclaimed. "Go for the salvage. That stuff is worth a fortune."

"You heard the man. Send Sea Dog and Sea Star in to secure the property."

"Aye, sir."

The minutes ticked by like hours onboard seaQuest. No one moved. No one even breathed. O'Neill monitored the incoming data from the shuttle. Bridger looked over his shoulder.

"Pod's away!" Tim announced not keeping the joy from his voice. The entire bridge crew breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Very good, Lieutenant. Put me through to UEO on a secured channel. I'll take it in my Quarters. You're with me, Commander. Mr. Phillips, you have the conn."

"Aye, sir."


Bridger and Ford left the bridge. In the corridor right outside they ran into Kreig.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I couldn't help overhearing," Kreig began.

"Couldn't HELP overhearing?!" Bridger shot him daggers.

Kreig sighed deeply. "Permission to drop the smart ass facade, sir."

"You CAN drop it?" Bridger was doubtful.

"Sir, there's something you should know. I'm sure Kristin was going to tell you in person but, under the circumstances, I don't think it can wait."

"My quarters, Mr. Kreig. Commander." Bridger turned on his heel and stalked toward his quarters. Kreig and Ford exchanged glances and followed.

The pod's gyros cut in and it stabilized in its voyage to the surface. Brody craned his neck to look out the view port. Far below he saw the lights of the two delta subs as they closed in on the darkened hulk of the shuttle. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said quietly.

"What did you say?" Lucas strained to hear. Their normal hearing had not yet returned.

"Two of the Deltas are trying to loot the shuttle," he hollered. Everything sounded tinny and distorted.

"They'll get the cargo!" Lucas worried raising his voice to be heard.

"I don't think so." A smile teased at Brody's lips as he glanced at his watch.

"Why not?" Lucas demanded.

"I set the self destruct to ---" Suddenly a concussion wave overtook the pod and rocked it violently. "---engage," Brody finished.

"You blew it all up!!!" Lucas couldn't believe it.

"Better than having it fall into enemy hands. Looks like we took out the deltas too!" Brody was jubilant as he peered out the tiny porthole.

"There were probably people on those subs," Lucas stated.

"Not people, Lucas, pirates. That's the chance they take when they mess with us." Brody was smug.

"I DON'T believe you. You don't know they were pirates."

"Then, why did they attack us and try to snag our load?"

"Maybe they were trying to rescue US. The launch had plainly been hulled."

"They don't care about us, except maybe as hostages. Ortiz, check the gear for weapons."

Ortiz did not move.

"I don't think he can hear yet," Dagwood told them. Ortiz was still trying to suction water from his ears and seemed unaware of anything else.

"I'll do it," Brody decided.

"You are so paranoid," Lucas stated.

"And you are so naive. I sometimes wonder......"

"Wonder what?" Lucas' back was up now. "Why a kid like me is allowed on the seaQuest?"

"No," Brody stated flatly. "Why any civilian is. I thought they had decided that experiment didn't work."

"Well, you weren't there so you wouldn't know if it worked or not. You were off playing policemen at that time or should I say jailer?" Lucas flared.

"Ohhhh," Dagwood moaned. "Please don't yell."

"Do your ears hurt, Dagwood?" Lucas asked with concern. "Try swallowing. It helps."

"Friends shouldn't yell at each other," Dagwood stated firmly.

"You're right, Dagwood," Brody smiled. "We gotta remember the real enemies are outside this pod. We may have to yell at Ortiz for a while though. Can you hear yet, Miguel? MIGUEL!"

Ortiz looked up. "You're going to have to speak up, Lieutenant All I can hear is the roar of that water still."

"Then you won't mind if I tell Dagwood and Lucas who you are currently dating," Brody tested him.

Ortiz did not react.

"O. K. He can't hear. Give him time. It'll come back," Brody thought out loud.

"Who's he dating?" Lucas asked.

"Beats me. It was a bluff," Brody admitted.

"At first, it was just little things, construction accidents, delivery snafus, supplies that were misplaced but it got to be a bit much to be a coincidence and then when Crocker found the bug in Kristin's office, we knew it had to be some kind of sabotage," Krieg explained as he sat across Bridger's desk from the captain. Ford was seated next to him. They both watched as Bridger alternately sat and paced.

"Sabotage," Bridger was dubious.

"By whom?" Ford was even less inclined to believe Kreig's outlandish theory.

"That's the 64 million dollar question," Kreig stated flatly. "Crocker thinks it's reef huggers. They've made no secret of the fact that they are dead set against New Atlantis."

"The reef huggers, as you call them, are a well meaning, if some what misguided, bunch of young people that are concerned about the future of the planet." Bridger did not hide the annoyance in his voice.

"I don't know, Captain. Some of them are really radical. They feel their end justifies any means. They have no qualms about damaging private property. My father has had some problems with them over the years. They don't feel anyone has the right to do anything but look at the ocean," Ford disagreed.

"Don't you think you might be a tad bit biased, owing to what your father does for a living, Jonathan? Besides most of the conservation groups are grassroots movements they don't have the funding for delta subs and electronic surveillance devices," Bridger argued.

"How about pirates?" Ford suggested.

"Why would pirates want to stop New Atlantis?" Krieg countered "If anything they'd want to encourage something that would bring more potential targets their way. Besides, no pirates I know of are organized enough to have a fleet of deltas."

"Well YOU would know," Ford agreed. "So if the pirates have no desire to stop the project that brings us back to the reef huggers. I think they are more destructive than you do. I've dealt with them before."

"Exactly what does you father do for a living?" Kreig asked conversationally.

"He's a farmer," Ford said absently.

"That explains why you buy into the reef hugger theory but it just doesn't fit."

"You have a different theory?" Bridger was almost afraid to ask.

"You bet I do, sir. Pirates might have had method and opportunity but no motive. Reef huggers have motive but no method. I think it's something else entirely, something much more basic." Kreig's voice took on the air of a master storyteller.

"Cut to the chase, Mr. Kreig." Bridger was losing his patience.

"I think it's simple old greed, Captain."

"Greed?"

"Yes sir. Look, should New Atlantis go belly up what happens to the funding? Wouldn't it revert back to Rupert Channing's heirs?"

"I suppose," Bridger mulled it over.

"That's a hell of a lot of money. If I stood in line to inherit it and the old man gave it away to someone else I'd be willing to commit all kinds of mayhem to get it back."

"Rupert Channing's children would go against his wishes?" Ford couldn't believe it.

"We're talking BIG MONEY here, Commander, what would you do if your father decided to do that?"

"It's his money, he can do what he likes with it. I have my own career," Ford said.

"We're not talking about some little dirt water farm here. We are talking about a huge fortune!!" Kreig was exasperated.

Ford got up and stiff-leggedly walked away before he did or said something unbecoming an officer and gentlemen.

Bridger had no such compulsion. "Tell me, Ben, have you ever heard of Ford Worldwide Aquaculture?"

"Shoot, who hasn't? It's a Fortune 1000 company. Strictly blue chip. With a portfolio that reads like a......Ford? You don't mean...?" The light dawned on Kreig.

Bridger just nodded.

"Damn," Kreig muttered to himself. "If I'd have known he was rich I would have been a whole lot nicer to him."

The intercom on Bridger's desk buzzed.

"I have General Noyce and Secretary McGaff on a secured channel standing by, sir." O'Neill's voice filtered over the speaker.

"Very Good, Lieutenant. Commander, if you'll be good enough to show Mr. Kreig to the door."

"My pleasure, Captain."

"Hey, there's no need to give me the bum's rush here."

"Oh, but there is," Ford disagreed taking him by the elbow. "You see, this is classified and you're just a civilian. Good bye, Ben." Ford closed the door over Kreig's objections and Bridger switched on the vid screen. The screen was split with an impatient looking Noyce on one side and a nervous looking McGaff on the other. Bridger sized them up for a minute before he spoke.

"What is it, Nathan?" Noyce tried to take control of the call.

"Why didn't you tell me there had been sabotage attempts on New Atlantis?" Bridger demanded flatly.

"We don't know there have been any, per say," Noyce said diplomatically.

"You don't KNOW?"

"Well, we don't know for sure all we have are the reports of an hyster----"

"You weren't going to say hysterical woman were you?" Bridger got to his feet ready to fight. "Because Kristin Westphalen is the farthest thing from ----"

"Nathan, " McGaff began, "you know we all have the highest regard for Dr. Westphalen. It's just that this is a tremendous undertaking. You know her. Do you think it likely she is delegating any responsibility? I'm sure she is right on top of every little detail without getting proper rest. The pressure alone would be enough to frazzle most people. Under those conditions the slightest little thing could seem sinister----"

"Is the fact that four delta subs attacked one of my launches carrying cargo for New Atlantis sinister enough for you or am I merely being hysterical?" Bridger blasted.

"WHAT?!!" Noyce was also on his feet. "Was the cargo stolen?"

"No. When the launch was disabled my men 86'd it."

"Thank God. We couldn't have any of that falling into the wrong hands," Noyce commented.

"Now there's 'wrong hands' all of a sudden?" Bridger was sarcastic.

"Believe it or not, Nathan, we are all on the same side here," Noyce stated. "I want you to proceed at full speed to New Atlantis. Your new assignment will be to protect that facility and get to the bottom of all this."

"Fine. As soon as I go back and pick up my men."

"No, Nathan," Noyce was emphatic. "You can't spare the time."

"Then I'll send a launch."

"Any more launches from seaQuest would just be more fodder for those deltas."

"I'm not going to leave four members of my crew bobbing around in a rubber raft," Bridger told them.

"All your pods are equipt with G27 life rafts. They are the state of the art in survival gear. They all have an automatic homing beacon and distress signal. Chances are a surface vessel will pick them up but your men could survive in that raft for weeks. They're Navy. They'll be fine. We'll dispatch ....."

"They're not all Navy, Bill," Bridger said meaningfully.

"You mean Lucas?"

Bridger nodded.

"Come on, Nathan. He's seventeen years old. Remember what it was like to be that age? Everything is a big adventure. He's probably having the time of his life. The other guys'll look out for him. We can get help to them by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"Tomorrow afternoon?! Do four lives mean that little to you?!"

"Against all the lives at New Atlantis?" McGaff put in. "You do the math."

"MATH?! These are human beings we are talking about not numbers!"

"You have your orders, Nathan," Noyce stated firmly then ended the transmission.

"You lousy son of a bitch!" Bridger yelled at the darkened screen.

Ford walked around to the laptop on Bridger's desk and keyed something in. Soon a map appeared on the screen. "Well," he began "the good news is they do appear to be close to the shipping lanes."

"And the bad news?" Bridger hardly dared ask.

"That area is about to experience a nor'easter with seas of 10 - 15 feet."

To be continued.........

Screen captures courtesy Patt. Be sure to check out her great website seaQuest screen captures & sound files

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