Echoes of the Fourth Magic Read Free

later Ray Corbin and Doc Brady rushed in, followed closely by Mitchell and Martin Reinheiser, the civilian physicist who had earned the dubious distinction of becoming Mitchell’s right-hand man. They ran to DelGiudice, now working furiously on the body.
    “I’ve got him,” Doc Brady told Del.
    “He’s dead,” Del whispered as he rose. He felt his own pulse pounding as he watched helplessly.
    “What happened?” Mitchell demanded.
    From across the room, Billy Shank answered. “The indicators on my panel started jumping beyond the range of the gauges, and these gauges extend well beyond the limits of anything we ever expected to measure. I’ve never seen anything like it. And then there was a loud noise and Camarillo just fell over.”
    Mitchell glared at Del, who couldn’t meet his accusing gaze, too vulnerable to argue with the captain this time. Though Del wasn’t at fault, the fact remained that he had been in command at the time.
    Secure in his victory as Del’s head dropped, Mitchell turned to Reinheiser. “What could it be?”
    Reinheiser snorted at the absurd request. “I believe I should examine the data before I make any guesses.
    Doc Brady shook his head and closed Camarillo’s eyes.
    A dead crewman. Mitchell fumed at the thought, at the implications to his record. “Put the ship on alert!” he roared. “And get me a damage report!” He rushed over to the security of his command seat, all the more angry at the lack of focus for his ire.
    Within moments the alarms sounded and the crew scrambled, but even the commotion could not ease Mitchell’s impatience.
    “The rest of the ship reports no damage or casualties, sir,” Jonson called out.
    Mitchell glanced at Del.
    “Just one speaker,” the junior officer explained. “It’ll still work.”
    “Only minor damage here, too,” Billy Shank called.
    Martin Reinheiser, at a terminal to the side of the room, overlapped files with a gridded reference chart. “I believe the disturbance came from right about here,” he said, moving his mouse pointer to a spot on the grid and giving a click so the indicated area expanded to fill the screen. “About a quarter mile dead ahead.”
    “Get us there, but keep it slow,” Mitchell snapped at Billy. “I want to know what killed my crewman.”
    Del eyed the viewing screen, now perceiving the beacon of the searchlight as an unwelcome invader of this secret and suddenly hostile darkness. We’re heading right into something that killed Camarillo from a quarter mile away, he thought, and he was not the only one in the room troubled by that fact.
    Billy Shank’s indicator needles flickered in warning.
    “Captain …” Billy began, but his voice trailed off when he noticed the astounded expressions on the faces around him. He looked to the screen and, following a waving command from Mitchell, brought the sub to a halt.
    Blackness. The searchlight knifed down and abruptly disappeared. It didn’t reflect back; it simply stopped.
    “What is it?” Mitchell asked.
    “A cavern?” Reinheiser questioned rhetorically, certainly not expecting answers from the men around him.
    “My indicators are dancing again,” Billy remarked loudly, but they seemed not to notice him.
    “We have to get a closer look,” Reinheiser declared, unconsciously leaning toward the screen.
    “Move us in,” Mitchell ordered flatly.
    “But, sir,” Billy replied, “my instruments aren’t functional. I’ll have to guide us manually.”
    “Take it nice and slow then,” Mitchell said. “DelGiudice, have you got that speaker fixed yet?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Get us a replacement for Camarillo.”
    “I can take it,” Del offered, thinking his act of braverymight earn him some grudging respect from Mitchell. It didn’t. Gingerly, suddenly not so sure of his offer, he slid the headphones over his head.
    The sub inched downward. Still the light could not penetrate the void before them. The sonic equipment issued its signals out