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Meanwhile, Pitt and Giordino were poring over the massive engine with its distinctive nineteenth-century fittings, valves and unfamiliar mechanisms, many of them cast and polished in brass.
Pitt crawled under and around the great engine, inspecting it from every angle. Finally, he stood and scratched the stubble on his chin. "I've researched hundreds of marine engines in hundreds of different ships, including old steamships, but I've never seen anything that matches this layout."
Giordino, who had been examining the manufacturers' plaques bolted on different parts of the machinery, said, "The power plant did not come from one manufacturer. Amherst must have commissioned thirty different marine engine machinists throughout Europe and America to build this thing before assembling it with his own crew."
"That's how he managed to
construct the Nautilus in secrecy."
"What do you make of the design?"
"My best guess is that it's a combination of massive electrical energy and a rudimentary form of magnetohydrodynamics."
"So Amherst created the concept a hundred and forty years before it was rediscovered."
"He didn't have the technology to run the seawater through a magnetic core kept at absolute zero by liquid helium-that wouldn't be produced commercially for another sixty years-so he used a kind of sodium converter. It wasn't nearly as efficient, but good enough for his purposes. Amherst had to compensate by relying on massive electrical energy to produce enough generating current to turn the propeller at an efficient rate of speed."
"Then it would seem likely that Egan used Amherst's engine as a base for his own designs."
"It must have proven an inspiration for him."
"A phenomenal piece of work," said Giordino, appreciating the ingenuity behind the huge engine. "Especially when you realize that it propelled the Nautilus into every corner of the undersea world for forty years."
Kelly approached, carrying the engine-room log. She looked as if she were staring at a ghost. "If we're finished in here for now, I'd like to find the passage Dad must have discovered to get back and forth between here and the house above."
Pitt nodded and glanced at Giordino. "We should contact the admiral and report what we've found here."
"I'm sure he'd like to know," Giordino agreed.
Five minutes, no more, was all it took to climb through the passage leading up to the top of the palisades. Pitt felt a strange sensation, knowing the Vikings had passed this same way a thousand years earlier. He could almost hear their voices and touch their presence.
Josh Thomas was sitting in Egan's study, reading a chemical analysis journal, when he froze in fright. The rug in the center of the room suddenly rose from the floor as if a ghost were inside and then flew aside. A trapdoor beneath swung open and Pitt's head popped up like a jack-in-the-box.
"Sorry to intrude," said Pitt with a cheery smile. "But I just happened to be passing by."
Part Six
GHOST FROM THE PAST
58
AUGUST 16, 2003 WASHINGTON, D.C.
Pitt roused himself out of bed, slipped into a robe and helped himself to a cup of coffee brewed by Sally Morse. He wanted to remain in bed for most of the morning, but Sally and Kelly were leaving. After testifying before Loren's congressional committee and giving depositions to the Justice Department, Sally was warmly thanked by a grateful president and released to fly home and resume her duties as chairwoman of Yukon Oil, until her presence was required for additional testimony.
When Pitt swayed sleepy-eyed into the kitchen, Sally was happily humming and unloading the dishwasher. "I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but I'm going to miss having you and Kelly underfoot."
Sally laughed cheerfully. "That's only because you'll have to go back to fixing your own meals, cleaning the dishes, making your bed and doing your laundry."
"I can't deny I enjoyed it."
She looked becoming in a taupe, silk melange cowl-neck sweater and brown micro-suede jeans. Her ash blond hair hung loose and flowing. "You should find yourself a good woman to take care of you."
"Loren is the only one who'd have me, but she's too busy playing politics." Pitt sat down behind the breakfast table, which he'd salvaged from an old steamship in the Great Lakes, and sipped his coffee. "What about you? Too busy running an oil company to find a good man?"
"No," she said slowly. "I'm a widow. My husband and I built Yukon Oil together. When he died in a plane crash, I took over. Since then, most men act intimidated when they're around me."
"The price lady CEOs have to pay. But don't worry. You'll get lucky before the year is out."
