“I can wait here,” David said. “Or we could call out.”
“No,” Patrick whispered quickly. “If the Immari have found an entrance in Antarctica… the footsteps could be… might not be friendlies. Or,” he glanced at the tubes. “Either way, we wait.”
Both men receded behind the closest bunch of tubes and crouched in the shadows as the footsteps coming toward them echoed loudly through the tombs.
CHAPTER 134
Dorian watched the Nazi soldiers march past him in the dimly lit corridor. It was true. Some of them were alive. His father could be alive.
He stepped out from behind the shadow, straightened his back, and spoke with force. “Ich heiße Dieter Kane.”
The two men spun and pointed their submachine guns at him. “Halten sie!” One man yelled.
“How dare you!” Dorian spat at him. “I am Konrad Kane’s only surviving son. You will lower your weapons and take me to him at once.”
CHAPTER 135
Konrad Kane crept closer to Kate, like a big cat studying its prey, calculating whether or when to strike. “Who are you?”
Kate’s mind raced. She needed a believable lie. “I am Dr. Carolina Knapp, lead scientist on a special Immari research project sent to find you, sir.”
Kane scrutinized her, then the children. “Impossible. I’ve been here less than three months. Launching another expedition would take far longer.”
Kate wondered if he was suspicious of her accent. She hadn’t spoken German in so long. A short answer would be better. “You’ve been here much longer than a few months, sir. But I’m afraid we’re out of time. We must go. I need to get these children out of these packs and off—”
Another Nazi soldier rushed in, speaking quickly in German. “Sir, we’ve found something, and more people.” He panted, and waited for Kane.
Kane looked from the man to Kate. “I will be back, “ he apprised her again, “Doctor.” He bent down to face the children and, to Kate’s surprise, spoke English. “Boys, I need your help. Please come with me.” He swept them into his arms and left the room before Kate could object.
CHAPTER 136
Fifteen minutes of discussion with the oafs had got Dorian nowhere. Their heads would roll when he told his father. Holding him at gunpoint like a captured cat burglar. Finally, he had exhaled and stood there, rocking onto his heels and waiting.
Every second felt like an eternity.
Then, slowly, the silence broke. The footfalls rounding the corner echoed with the rhythm of Dorian’s heart as the moment he had waited for his entire life arrived. The man he could barely remember, who had tucked his sickly body into a glass coffin, who had saved his life and would save the world, his father, turned the corner and marched up to him.
Dorian wanted so much to run to him, to embrace his father and tell him all the things he’d done, how he had saved him, just as he had saved Dorian almost 100 years ago. He wanted his father to know that he had grown up to be strong, as strong as his father was, that he was worthy of the sacrifices his father had made. But Dorian kept still. The submachine guns were one reason, but not the biggest. His father’s eyes were cold, piercing. They seemed to analyze him, as if his eyes were gathering pieces of a puzzle.
“Papa,” Dieter whispered.
“Hello, Dieter.” His father spoke in German and the voice was lifeless, business like.
“There is much I must tell you. I was awakened in 197—”
“1978. Time moves slower here, Dieter. You are 40?”
“42,” Dieter said, amazed that his father had already made the leap.
“2013 outside. Here, 75 days. A day for every year. A 360 to 1 time differential.”
Dorian’s mind raced, trying to catch up. He wanted to say something insightful, to let his father know that he was smart enough to solve the mystery as well, but all he could manage was, “Yes. But why?”
“We’ve found their hibernation chamber, it is as we suspected,” his father said as he turned away and paced the length of the corridor. “Perhaps the Bell also distorts time inside the structure and generates the power they need for the hibernation. Perhaps the hibernation is not perfect. Perhaps they do age, if ever so gradually. Or maybe it is to benefit their machines, which would certainly endure some wear every year. Either way, slowing time would help them leapfrog through the ages. We have also found something else. The Atlanteans are not what we think they are. The truth is more bizarre than we imagined. It will take some time to explain.”
Dorian motioned to the packs. “The children are carrying—”
“Explosives. Yes. A clever move. I assume they could pass the Bell?” Konrad said.
“Yes. There was another woman who came through: Kate Warner. She is Patrick Pierce’s daughter. I was afraid she would get to them. But it doesn’t matter now. We’re almost out of time.”
Konrad checked the back of the pack. “Less than two hours. Warner did find them, but we have her. We’ll put them in the tombs. We’ll return if we need to finish the job.”
“We should leave soon after; it’s a thirty-minute walk from here to the portal door.” Dorian bent down to the children and spoke in English. “Hello again. I told you Kate would be down here. Did you enjoy the first game?”
The boys simply looked at him. They were as dumb as door nails, Dorian thought. “We’re going to play a new game. Would you like that?” Dorian waited, but the boys said nothing. “Ok… I’ll take that as a yes. This game is a race. Are you fast runners?”
The boys nodded.
CHAPTER 137
David watched the two Nazi soldiers wander deeper into the tombs, gawking at the tubes. They wore thick sweaters and no helmets: they were clearly Nazi marines. They would be very well-skilled at hand-to-hand combat in close quarters. Surprise was imperative for David and Patrick to take them down. David raised a hand to make signs, but Patrick was already signing to him: wait until they pass.
David tried to squat lower, but his leg burned. That he could squat at all was a miracle. The goo really worked. The goo — would they smell it? Patrick crouched beside him, between two other tubes in the banana cluster closest to the meandering soldiers. Two seconds.
One man stopped. Did he smell it?
Above David and Patrick’s hiding position, a burst of white fog spewed from the tubes, drawing the soldier’s attention. They swung their submachine guns off their backs and raised them, but David and Patrick were already up and on them, springing like snakes out of the tall grass onto their prey.