Prologue
Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Dennis
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author. For more information, contact via email, [email protected].
Note to readers: The first chapter is a prologue, and the next three chapters begin slow and gradually speed up as the story progresses. This is a slow-burn romance. Enjoy!
May 11, 1900
It was here, somewhere, Isaac was sure of it. Dead sure. A small fortune’s worth of sureness. After all, he’d spent nearly a century hunting down the elusive leviathan hidden on, or near the island. The coordinates were perfectly aligned with the other portals. Geographic analysis showed restructuring consistencies as well.
Isaac slowly opened his eyes and relaxed his grip on the railing. A change in wind direction brought with it the smell of burning woodland. But, why? Why isn’t this portal listed in the database? A question he’d asked himself thousands of times and would ask thousands more until it was learned.
Two ships hauling construction equipment dropped anchors nearly simultaneously. Isaac climbed into the wobbling lifeboat and motioned to one of the sailors near the davit’s turn crank. He feigned a concerned glance at the billowing smoke flowing unobstructed above the island. For the record, admitted Isaac, to no one of consequence, the eruption’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
Fears of a greater, future eruption had sent the last remaining occupants fleeing West, to the newly annexed Territory of Hawaii. Isaac had paid their voyage fees and gave each of them enough money to begin a new, comfortable life there. It was the least he could do. He knew there would be no future eruptions. At least, not on this island.
It took an eighty-seven-man work crew three days of round-the-clock labor to deconstruct and burn all fifty-seven abandoned shelters, and another two days to clear out centuries of rubbish and clutter.
Isaac sat on the shore and waited for the second ship to be far enough away before slipping out of his pants and diving into an unusually large tidal swell. He headed towards a particular coral-covered rock on the east side of the island, scanning the sides as he approached, and then the front. His wristband expanded and lifted as he aimed.
Rapid pulses, emanating from his band, sent waves of coral and rock bursting in every direction as Isaac slowly moved back to avoid wayward fragments. He moved his arm from left to right, feeling a twinge of guilt for destroying the hundred-year-old colony of red and blue coral. When the debris finally settled, Isaac was pleased to see the hexagonal-shaped stone he’d suspected he’d find.
Isaac changed the setting on his band and began tracing the edge of the shape, clearing out any remaining sand and debris until he was satisfied with the results. It was an unnecessary undertaking. Opening the entrance would have broken through coral easily and swept away debris as it did. It was more an act of procrastination if he were being honest. Now for the fun part, he sighed, meaning the opposite.
Upon finding the stone, he wasn’t entirely confident he could generate the codes to open the antiquated station. It wasn’t supposed to exist, as far as the records showed. Nevertheless, after twelve and a half hours of frustrating trials and maddening errors, the rock finally budged, and then pulled inward, sending a current of stagnated fluid into the surrounding ocean. He’d used a sequence of older codes until a combination of half skill and half clumsy luck had done the trick.
It came as no surprise to Isaac that there was no second barrier beyond the stone, given that a second barrier had only become necessary around the turn of the nineteenth century when humans had finally invented their first submarine. The functioning code was far older than that.
Isaac crept reverently through the entrance. He turned on his belt lamp, bathing the tunnel ahead in a blue-white glow. His eyes widened as he moved through the tunnel. He’d never seen a station this old, not even on Cambrania. Passing several doors, his focus remained fixed on the large dome ahead of him.
The blue-white light from his belt reflected off the metallic walls and crept toward a glass desk that arched around three curved, auto-positioning metal chairs, built for prolonged sitting.
Isaac glided into the middle chair, allowing his dorsal fin to protrude through the cut-out section of the seat once his nerves had settled down. He let his tail slip through the bottom loop rest and stared intently at the panel of controls. Tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the desk, he swished his tail back and forth.
Whoever had established this station, Isaac paused for a moment to reflect, had gone through the trouble of erasing all evidence of its existence, and whoever would and could do such a thing would no doubt also have the same wherewithal and ability to effectively secure the contents of its database.
Isaac slid his left hand to the top-left panel. The panel lit up, displaying a multitude of symbols. His eyes remained fixed on the panel to his right, as his left hand blindly selected the controls that lit up the entire station and activated the ventilation system. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, preparing for the strenuous task ahead of him, then he slid his right hand over to the right panel, triggering a holographic, panoramic “YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED” message.
Isaac cracked his knuckles and tapped his wristband. He was out of his league, and he knew it. That’s what he told himself, as he waited for his wife to answer his call. In truth, he had an irresistible desire to conduct a more thorough search of the island. A holographic screen projecting from his band appeared in front of him. He waved it onto the panoramic screen, preferring to see her face, spinning around him, smiling down at him.
“Hi, sweetheart,” said Rose, in the flowery voice she always used for her husband, “I see you were able to find the station.”
“You know, I had thought to take on the job alone, but then I remembered that my beautiful wife was far better at convincing an AI database to let her meddle with its contents.”
She smiled knowingly at Isaac, “did you give it your best efforts?”
“Absolutely not,” he leaned back in his chair, glancing toward the corridor, then back to his wife, “I have a feeling there’s another one, Rose, something huge.”
“It makes sense,” she tilted her head and smiled, “I guess I could take over there and let you explore your new toy.”
He lifted his arms and rested both on the top of his head, rocking slightly–a sign his wife recognized to mean he was fiercely excited about something, and anxious to get at it.
“What are you waiting for?” she mouthed the words, blowing him a kiss and waving before disconnecting the call.
In less than a week, Rose sat in his place, busily working her magic, leaving Isaac to explore and renovate Blue Liaison.
