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"So this is where one great man lived, and another great man created," Giordino commented philosophically.
"Let's keep going," said Pitt. "I want to see where he built his tele-portation sending chamber."
They walked through another watertight bulkhead and into a compartment that had once held the submarine's air tanks. These had been removed by Egan to make room for his teleportation instruments and equipment. There were two panels with dials and switches, a computer desk and an enclosed chamber that contained the sending station.
Pitt smiled when he saw a fifty-five-gallon drum marked Super Slick sitting in the chamber. It was connected to a timing device and a series of tubes, which were themselves connected to a round receptacle on the floor. "Now we know where the oil comes from that keeps filling up Egan's leather case."
"I wonder how it all works," said Giordino, examining the sending station.
"It will take someone smarter than me to figure it out."
"It's amazing that it actually works."
"As crude and elementary as it appears, you're looking at a scientific achievement that will forever alter the transportation of the future."
Pitt stepped over to the instrument panel where the timing device was mounted. He saw that the sequence was set at fourteen hours. He reset it to ten.
"What are you doing?" asked Giordino curiously.
The edges of his lips lifted in a sneaky grin. "I'm sending a message to Hiram Yaeger and Max."
Having gone as far as they could go toward the bow, Pitt and Giordino retraced their steps to the main saloon. Kelly was sitting in a chair, looking for all the world as if she were in the midst of an out-of-body experience.
Pitt squeezed her shoulder tenderly. "We're heading toward the engine room. Would you like to come along?"
She brushed her cheek against his hand. "Did you find anything interesting?"
"Your father's teleportation compartment."
"Then he actually created and built a device that can send objects through space."
"He did."
Lost in euphoria, she rose from the chair, and quietly followed the two men as they made their way aft.
Once on the other side of the dining hall and the entry compartment, they passed through a galley that made Kelly cringe. Food containers were cluttered around the countertops, dirty dishes and utensils were green with mold in a large sink, and large baskets of trash and garbage in plastic bags were stacked in a heap in one corner of the galley.
"Your father had many qualities," observed Pitt, "but neatness wasn't one of them."
"He had other things on his mind," Kelly said lovingly. "It's a pity he didn't take me into his confidence. I could have acted as his secretary and housekeeper."
They went through the next opening into the crew's quarters. What they saw here was the most mind-boggling of all.
Here is where Elmore had stored the treasures that had once adorned the main saloon and library. The number of canvases would have filled two rooms of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, Raphael, Rembrandt, Vermeer, Rubens and thirty others were stacked in rows. Sculptures from antiquity, in bronze and marble, stood in closets and individual crew's cabins. And then there were the treasures that Amherst had salvaged from ancient shipwrecks: piles of gold and silver bars, boxes filled to overflowing with coins and gemstones. The value of the collection was beyond their comprehension, beyond their wildest appraisal.
"I feel like Ali Baba after he discovered the forty thieves' cave of riches," said Pitt in a hushed voice.
Kelly was equally astounded. "I never dreamed anything like this existed."
Giordino took a handful of gold coins and let them sift through his fingers. "If there was ever a question as to how Dr. Elmore financed his experiments, what we see here tells it all."
They spent nearly an hour combing through the great hoard before carrying on with their tour. After walking through another watertight bulkhead, they found themselves in the Nautilus's engine room. This was the most expansive section of the ship, measuring sixty feet in length by twenty feet in width.
The maze of pipes, tanks and strange-looking mechanisms that Pitt and Giordino recognized as electrical generating equipment had to be a plumber's nightmare. A huge gear system with meshing steel teeth dominated the aft end of the room. While Kelly wandered about, not nearly as fascinated by the machinery as the men, she came to a high podium-like table without a chair that held a large leatherbound book. She opened it and studied the old-fashioned scroll handwriting in brown ink. The book proved to be the chief engineer's log. The last entry was dated June 10, 1901, and read . . .
Closed down the engine for the final time. Will keep the generators operating for power until my demise. The Nautilus that has served me so faithfully for forty years will now serve as my tomb. This is my last entry.
It was signed, Cameron Amherst.
