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“If you look at this one, you can see another structure in the background. The head of the dive team said he thought there were at least six of these, maybe more,” Leonid said, holding up a photo.
“If he’s right, it’s an incredible find. Not only an ancient ruin but one that’s been lost for long enough that nobody remembers it. Never mind that its location presents an intriguing mystery,” Remi said.
“Obviously, some sort of natural disaster,” Sam speculated. “This area has a history of earthquakes. That’s got to be how it wound up underwater.”
“Yes, but more interesting to me is the construction. Stone. There’s no history of stone building here. This is an important clue to a past we never imagined,” Leonid said.
“It is odd that there’s no record of it, isn’t it?” Remi asked softly.
Leonid put the photos down. “Not to me. This is a fragmented society that relies on oral tradition. There are over seventy languages in the islands. That speaks to separatism. It could be that everyone who knew about it was wiped out. Imagine how big an earthquake would have been required to sink the entire shore to that depth.”
An idea occurred to Sam. “Assuming it was built on the shore.”
Remi gave him a puzzled look. “Why would you think any differently?”
Sam sat forward. “Have you ever heard of Nan Madol?”
“No.”
“The ruling dynasty built islands out of big rocks on top of the coral reefs there—a similar approach to Venice—with a series of interconnected canals,” Sam explained. Leonid stared at him thoughtfully. “If it was built in a lagoon or on a reef, that would better explain why it’s submerged. If the shelf collapsed in a big earthquake—”
“Exactly. Anyway, without diving the find, that would be my first guess. We’ll know more once Selma finds us a research vessel.”
They rose and reluctantly traded the comfort of the hotel lobby for the muggy heat outside. The squall line that had been lingering on the horizon was approaching, pushing humid air ahead of it, and as they made their way back to the hospital, the sky was darkening.
Leonid had been on Guadalcanal for a week and was by now used to the schizophrenic weather. He glanced up at the clouds without interest. The interior of the SUV smelled like a slaughterhouse, and he pulled over at a car wash being operated out of an empty field next to a grocery, its water supplied by runners with buckets, the workers shirtless and shoeless, laughing as they worked on a short line of vehicles.
The good humor abruptly died when the lead youth got a glimpse of the Land Rover’s interior. Remi, Sam, and Leonid spent the next half hour beneath a banyan tree, watching the washers work in nervous silence. A police car appeared at the curb halfway through, and two officers approached them and questioned them briefly before radioing the hospital and getting confirmation of their account.
Leonid exhaled a sigh of relief once the police left. His gaze moved to the clouds when distant thunder boomed across the sea.
“Sounds like it’s coming on fast,” he commented.
“That will stir up the water and decrease visibility if we try to dive tomorrow,” Sam said. “Presuming you’re still game.”
“Did you not see the crocodile the size of a freight car back on the beach?” Remi asked.
“Right. So we know where he is.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she said.
“What’s life without a little stimulation?”
She frowned. “The word you’re looking for is ‘safe.’ Or maybe ‘long.’”
Sam waved a hand at the sky. “Bah. Let’s head over to the hospital and check on the uncle and then see about reserving some gear. I want to get a close-up look, now that we’re here. I don’t do well sitting on the sidelines. Besides, the attack happened on the beach, so the safest place in that bay is anywhere but where we were.”
Leonid nodded. “The hard part will be getting boats. The ones I rented today won’t be back.”
“Drop us off at the hospital while you nose around for some others. Leave a message for us at the hotel with the details if you’re successful,” Sam said.
“And see if you can find someone with a nice, lightly used .50 caliber machine gun, while you’re at it. In case our reptilian guest wasn’t alone,” Remi said.
The thunder was nearing when Leonid left them at the hospital and they barely made it inside before the heavens opened and sheets of rain poured down. Drops the size of golf balls hammered a rapid-fire tattoo on the corrugated metal roof of the waiting area, where Ricky was sitting immobile as a statue, his eyes closed. The crowd had thinned and now only the old man with the cough, a laborer with an obviously broken arm, and a fisherman with a gash on his hand remained.
They took seats on the bench next to Ricky. He stirred and cracked an eye open. Remi smiled at him and he returned the favor with a tentative grin of his own.
“Any word?” she asked.
