All That Glitters

By Kate

Thanks as always to my beta readers, Theresa, Liz and Diane K. Although this story follows in sequence after Sea and Sky and includes some references to previous events, it isn’t necessary to have read any of my preceding stories. The plot is self-contained and all relative events are explained herein. Comments are welcome at veniceplace12@verizon.net

It was rare for Admiral Harriman Nelson to be annoyed by the slow progression of the minute hand. Normally, there weren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything he needed to achieve in a twenty-four hour span. Today should have been no different, his attention focused on recent reports from the Leviathan II sea lab. He’d been anxious to dissect the latest round of data obtained by Dr. Nicole Rook and her small team of technicians. After only two weeks in the lab they’d discovered fossilized corals in newly-opened trenches within the Razorback Fracture Zone. Seismic activity and underground earthquakes had created fissures in areas previously unreachable. Some of the newly-discovered specimens, including giant sponges and carnivorous sea squirts, were thought to be over 10,000 years old. Determining what had happened to cause the fossilization would provide a wealth of information related to climate changes, ocean warming, and water acidity levels. 

Seaview had only recently returned from the lab and was set to depart again in a few days to deliver additional equipment. Dr. Rook and her team had reached a standstill, their hands tied as they waited for the specialized gear Seaview would deliver. 

Harry was anxious for the cruise and the results further monitoring would bring - - or at least he had been. As it was, he couldn’t concentrate on Nicole’s reports, presently strewn across his desk. He knew the fault wasn’t Dr. Rook’s, but his own inability to focus.   

She was more than competent, having proved herself as one of the country’s leading marine biologists. Quite a feat, given she was only forty-two. Harry found her to be attractive and intelligent, if a bit on the eccentric side. He’d picked up on some vague history between her and Lee Crane but was positive it wasn’t romantic. There was no question his captain knew her, but he couldn’t entirely gauge Lee’s comfort level around the woman. It wasn’t the first time Harry had found his young commander hard to read.

Sighing, he rubbed the fingertips of one hand against his temple. His head was pounding, nothing new given he’d awakened with a splitting headache. Somehow, he’d muddled through the morning at the Institute, downing several cups of black coffee and half a pack of cigarettes. He’d met with Lee and Chip Morton regarding the new equipment for the Leviathan, then spent five minutes being evasive when Lee pulled him aside to question his haggard appearance.

So he had a headache. So his color was off, and he looked a little under the weather. What he hadn’t told Lee was that his appetite had been on the wane for two days, and there were times his right arm felt so heavy he couldn’t lift it. Just an hour ago, he’d noticed a slight discoloration to his hand. It had been bothering him off and on, ever since he’d sliced his palm on a piece of coral during his last dive before departing the Leviathan II. He’d cleaned it thoroughly and swabbed it with antiseptic, expecting that would be the end of it. He didn’t have time for anything as annoying as headaches, fatigue and mystery pain, making his arm and hand sometimes useless. 

Deciding all he really needed were a few aspirin and several hours of sleep, Harry fumbled open his briefcase and shoved a handful of folders inside. He’d go home, take it easy for the rest of the day and leave Lee to sort out any complications at the Institute. His captain was more than competent and would make sure the last of the equipment was safely stowed aboard Seaview in preparation of the cruise. One more day of system checks and they’d be underway. 

Despite the short time on land, Harry would be glad to be back at sea. He loved the Institute but was most comfortable and in his element when he was on his boat, the ocean his personal frontier. No doubt the headaches and fatigue would depart once Seaview was underway and he was again focused on a mission.

He shrugged into his jacket, grabbed his briefcase and cap, and headed for the door. While he was still several feet away, he heard a knock. A few seconds passed before the barrier creaked open and Lee Crane stuck his head inside.

“Admiral?” The younger man seemed surprised to find him readying to depart. “Am I interrupting? I thought…”

“I was just leaving, Lee,” Harry inserted, stating the obvious. Damn, if the headache wasn’t getting worse, making him squint when he wanted to appear alert. His captain was not only overly intuitive but rabidly protective when it came to his health. The last thing he needed was to start sending up smoke signals hinting he wasn’t feeling up to par. Lee Crane might be his subordinate, but that wouldn’t stop his keenly perceptive friend from launching into full-blown mother-hen mode.

Stepping into the room, Lee hesitated on the threshold, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. “I just wanted to let you know the additional equipment for the Leviathan is now onboard. We should finish up our final system checks by 1100 tomorrow.” His eyes narrowed in marked scrutiny. “Admiral, are you feeling all right? You look a little…”

“I’m fine,” Harry inserted before he could finish. He headed for the door, brusque and professional, his demeanor squelching any niggling objections Lee might have been formulating. “I’ve got several hours of work on the latest fossil statistics for the Leviathan, and I think I’m just going to tackle them at home. You know where to reach me if there are any problems.”

“Home?” Lee seemed at a loss. “But, Sir, it’s not even 1200 hours.”

Harry blew air through his teeth, casting the observation aside as if it bore no weight. “I think I’m entitled to a bit of comfort now and then, don’t you, Captain? I can accomplish what I need at home just as easily as I can here.”

“Yes, Sir. I didn’t mean…”

“Of course you didn’t.” Harry managed an easy grin. The smile felt frozen in place, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He wondered if he looked as badly as he felt and chalked that up as an affirmative, based upon the worry he saw reflected in Lee’s scrutinizing gaze. “Take care of things for me,” he said, brushing past the younger man on his way out the door.

He knew he didn’t have to say it. Lee would do what was required of him without asking. Whether it was Seaview, ONI (the thought brought a slow burn) or the Institute itself, Lee would run himself into the ground making certain everything was as it should be. Fortunately, there wasn’t anything so critical that required his young commander to burn the candle at both ends. 

By this time tomorrow they would be at sea. Lee would be less acute with his observations, and Harry would no doubt be feeling better after a night of rest and a meal under his belt. That’s all he really needed.

Despite the fact he wasn’t hungry at all.

**********

The pain in his arm had worsened by the time he got home. Harry told himself it wasn’t anything new, that it was the same trivial discomfort he’d been feeling for several days now.

Only it wasn’t trivial any longer. 

Even slipping the key into the lock on his front door made him wince. There was no question he’d been overworking, logging long hours with little or no rest. Hadn’t Lee been on him to let up, repeatedly telling him he needed a break? He’d probably just overexerted himself or pulled a muscle during one of his recent dives. 

He’d pop a few Tylenol and hope that took care of the problem. Mentioning it to Jamie would result in a barrage of restrictions he didn’t have time for. Not when the Leviathan II beckoned, promising a wealth of data through its startling discovery of fossilized coral in the Razorback. 

Stepping inside, he passed through the foyer and into the Great room, dropping his briefcase on the sofa. Late morning light streamed through the windows, bright as butterscotch, making him narrow his eyes against the glare. 

Tylenol.

He fished behind the bar until he found a half-empty bottle, then downed two with a shot of soda water. Shrugging from his jacket, he dropped it onto the back of the couch and loosened his collar. It felt warm in the room, too warm for comfort. He fiddled with the control for the air conditioning then trekked to the kitchen where he made himself some dry toast and a cup of tea. The combination did little to soothe his queasy stomach, and he soon found himself back in the Great room, trying to distract himself with files he’d brought from the Institute.

Harry settled into the couch, making himself as comfortable as possible. As expected, Dr. Rook’s reports on the Razorback fossil bed were meticulously detailed. He flipped through the most recent data, jotting notes on a yellow legal pad as he went. The pain in his hand flared briefly before dwindling to a dull ache. At least that was manageable for the moment.

He regretted Dr. Rook wasn’t available to debate some of her more questionable speculations. He’d enjoyed their discussions at the lab even if she left him occasionally annoyed by her inability to concede another viewpoint. She wasn’t always so inflexible, but he’d found her positively rigid when it came to harvesting a golden broom coral located at the Razorback’s deepest point. He’d been anxious to begin lifting specimens while she’d argued for the necessity of leaving it undisturbed. He thought it an odd viewpoint for a scientist. In the end, lack of specialized equipment had prevented them from initializing the harvest. The new gear Seaview was delivering to the lab would remedy that.  

Of all the corals in the Razorback trench, the golden broom was the one that intrigued him the most. All relevant data indicated it shouldn’t exist - - not now, not 10,000 years before. With no documented specimens on record, the broom was equivalent to a myth, similar to the make-believe legends of Atlantis, mermaids or the Flying Dutchman. A more cautious person might attribute that lack of record to the curse it carried, but Harry didn’t believe in superstition. Like the apple in the Garden of Eden, legend said the coral was not to be disturbed. An omen of good luck, harvesting the broom was rumored to result in certain destruction for the one responsible.

He snorted softly. Damn, silly fallacy.

He was a scientist. Dr. Rook might believe in antiquated superstitions but, despite witnessing the strange and bizarre, Harry routinely put his faith in facts. To prove it, he’d touched the coral on his last dive - - fingered it, reveling in the knowledge it wasn’t a myth. He’d even cut his palm on the bloody thing.

The thrill was still there - - the knowledge it wasn’t ancient folklore but something concrete. Lee hadn’t been nearly as excited, but at least his captain understood his drive to return to the site as quickly as possible. Nicole had been less enthusiastic, warning him to concentrate on the other coral in the trench and leave the golden broom undisturbed.

Frustrating woman.

He respected her but her reluctance over the broom was something he couldn’t swallow. And damn if that didn’t bother him because he did respect her so much. It wasn’t like her to indulge in something as flighty as old wives tales. 

It didn’t matter. He was in charge of the mission and would have the final say on the matter. When Seaview returned to the underwater lab, he’d make one final effort to include her in the harvesting and, if her reluctance continued, he’d simply override the objection. 

A few days from now, he’d be dissecting the broom under a microscope.

Contented by the thought, Harry smiled grimly.

And ignored the persistent pain in his hand.

**********

 Jiggs Starke was not in a good mood.

The damn plane had been late getting in, and he’d had to wait on a taxi. The next time he flew from D.C., he’d ditch the layover in Santa Barbara. His departure had been earlier than planned, and there was nothing pressing at COMSUBPAC. As it stood, he had over a whole week to himself. Even Lydia was away, visiting her mother in upstate New York. Rather than head home to Hawaii he thought he’d surprise his good friend Harriman Nelson with an unannounced visit. He could always secure a hotel later. From experience, he knew the Regency routinely made room for him with little more than a few hours notice. In the meantime, he’d find Harry and drag him off to dinner. His most recent intel put Seaview in dock for several days, giving him plenty of time.

They could shoot the breeze, reminisce about old times, and share a dose of mutual grousing about the inept lunkheads at the top of the food chain and several buried below. It would be nice to catch up without having some catastrophe or government project orchestrating their every move. Normally, when Jiggs visited Harry it was business-related, but even four-star admirals needed a break from the grind. After three days in Washington he was glad to be “off the clock,” for several days with a clear schedule.

Unfortunately, the freedom he felt evaporated with the flight delay and the taxi. By the time he reached the Nelson Institute, it was almost 1800 hours. He flashed his credentials for the guard at the gate, then had the taxi stop at the main entrance. The cabby parked beside a showy red convertible that didn’t look large enough to accommodate a pixie.

Gaudy thing. Probably all flash and no power. Jiggs cast it a disdainful glance. Even so, he couldn’t deny the vehicle made an impression.

He paid his fare, shooting the car a last grudging glance as he headed for the door, single suitcase in hand. He bypassed the receptionist, trekking toward Harry’s office, fully aware his friend was likely to be buried in some project or other despite the late hour. One thing that hadn’t changed about Harry since their days at Annapolis - - the man was a workaholic, especially when inspired. 

He was halfway down the hall when he encountered Lee Crane exiting his office.

The commander of the Seaview nearly collided with him, turning unexpectedly before realizing Jiggs was in the hallway.

“Admiral Starke!”

The older man felt a twinge of satisfaction at the shocked surprise in Crane’s voice. He was accustomed to intimidating junior officers, but Crane didn’t rattle as easily as most. It was nice to get a reaction for a change.

Not losing my touch after all, he thought smugly, settling his suitcase at his feet.

Crane’s gaze tracked the movement. “Sir . . . what are you doing here?” A trace of confusion flitted through the captain’s multi-colored eyes. “We weren’t expecting you.”

No hesitancy there. It was interesting to note Crane included himself in the Admiral’s schedule. Or maybe he just meant the Institute with that all-too-obvious “we.” Whatever his rationale, it was evident he considered himself fully informed of all visits by outside parties. And - - knowing Harry the way he did - - Jiggs deemed it highly likely he really had shared his full schedule with Crane. His friend counted on the young captain entirely too much in his opinion.

“Does Harriman tell you everything he does?” Jiggs countered sharply. “Don’t you think it’s possible I have a scheduled meeting you’re not aware of, Commander?”

Crane flushed. Another reaction not easily accomplished. For the first time since he’d encountered the younger man in the hallway, Jiggs noticed he appeared mildly unsettled, anxious to be away.

“Of course, Sir.” Crane regained his composure with an imaginary snap of the fingers. “But Admiral Nelson left earlier today with no plans of returning. He wouldn’t have done that if he’d known you were coming.”

“Hmphf!” Cornered, Jiggs cleared his throat. “Where is he?” No need to concede the point. Damn if he wasn’t mentally playing chess with Crane, reacting move-for-move. 

“He took some work home with him. I think he wasn’t feeling well.”

Jiggs was beginning to understand Crane’s restlessness. Harriman Nelson wasn’t a man to be waylaid by illness when there was work to do. “Have you talked to him since?”

“No, Sir. I was afraid he might be resting. I’m headed there now. I thought I’d check in with him on the way home.”

“Fine. We’ll go together.”

“I…” That uncharacteristic loss was back in Crane’s gaze again.

“I came directly from the airport, Commander, via taxi.” It was time to cut the younger man some slack. “Harriman wasn’t expecting me. I’m on my way home from Washington and thought I’d lay over for a few nights in Santa Barbara.” He squared his shoulders, standing straighter and glowering from under his brows. Too much slack wouldn’t do. Especially not with Crane. “Does that meet with your approval, Mister?”

“Or course, Sir. I’ll get a car from the motor pool.”

“What’s wrong with yours?”

“Nothing.” A slight pause. “I just thought a sedan might be more comfortable.”

“I’ll do the thinking around here.”

Crane nodded. Stooping, he retrieved Jiggs’ suitcase. “If you’ll follow me, Sir. I’m parked out front.”

Satisfied, Jiggs gave a curt nod. After the flight delay and the taxi, it felt good to be in control again - - to be issuing commands and having people jump to obey them. Especially Crane. Harriman was entirely too lax with his captain. True, the man was gifted, but it never hurt to remind even exceptional officers of their place in the pecking order. 

Feeling comfortably superior, Jiggs stepped outside.

And felt his mouth drop when Crane fished in his pocket for his car keys, then popped the trunk on the pimento-red coupe parked at the entrance. He slid Jiggs’ suitcase inside. 

“Sir?” Crane shot him a cautious glance, realizing he’d halted on the curb. “We can leave when you’re ready, Sir.” Closing the trunk, he rounded the passenger’s side of the vehicle and opened the door. “It shouldn’t take us more than fifteen minutes to reach Admiral Nelson’s home.”

Jiggs shook away his shock. “I know exactly how long it takes to reach my friend’s home, Commander. I don’t need a verbal itinerary!”

Crane’s scowl happened much too quickly to register. “Yes, Sir.”

Compressing his lips in a flat line, Jiggs stalked to the car. He was by no means a small man, but he’d been the one who vetoed using a car from the motor pool. He wasn’t about to renege on that decision which would be equivalent to admitting Crane had been right all along. The hell with that. He’d stuff himself into the showy vehicle before owning up to the blunder. 

He should have known the outlandish thing belonged to Crane. A combination of flash, power and extravagance, it was just the kind of car an annoyingly confident young buck would drive.

He squeezed himself into the passenger’s seat as fluidly as he could, well aware Crane stood at his side waiting to close the door. It was only when the captain rounded the hood, headed for the driver’s side, that he allowed his breath to escape in a quiet hiss. He felt like a squashed pretzel. Crane was every bit as tall as he was but a lot more slender which probably accounted for the fluid ease with which the captain slid into the coupe.

“Don’t tell me Harriman rides in this toy,” he groused as Crane started the engine. It purred to life with leashed power.

“Frequently.” The younger man put the car in reverse.

As he turned his head away, looking behind him, Jiggs was certain he grinned.

**********

The drive to Nelson’s house was made mostly in silence. Jiggs Starke was not a talkative man under the best of circumstances but, crammed into the passenger’s seat of Lee’s Cobra, he was less inclined to be social.

Which was fine with Lee. Ever since Nelson had left the Institute earlier that day, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on much of anything. He’d muddled through the intervening hours, his mind constantly on the admiral and what he feared was an increasingly precarious state of health. 

Nelson hadn’t said he wasn’t feeling well, but the evidence was there. He’d been looking haggard and inordinately fatigued ever since their departure from the Leviathan II and, more than once, Lee had caught the older man favoring his right arm. He’d tried to broach the subject with Nelson, but the admiral had brushed off his concern, saying there was nothing wrong. 

He wouldn’t admit to it but, by heading home early, his uncharacteristic behavior more than confirmed Lee’s suspicions. The nagging doubt had been in the captain’s head all day. He wouldn’t feel satisfied until he had a chance to talk to Nelson and see for himself that his health hadn’t deteriorated further.

Then there was Starke - - a wrinkle he hadn’t expected. He was sure Nelson hadn’t either. Seaview would be setting sail again in less than twenty-four hours, heading back to Dr. Rook’s team of technicians. Hopefully, Starke hadn’t planned on a prolonged stay. The last thing Lee needed was to have the COMPSUBPAC commander tagging along. Just thinking about it was enough to give him a headache.

He knew Starke was fuming, stuffed into the passenger’s seat of the Cobra. He’d thought about putting the top up but decided that would just make the larger man more uncomfortable. The whole thing could have been remedied if Starke had let him sign out a car from the motor pool but, with the stubborn admiral calling the shots, Lee had followed orders. He’d expected a few snide remarks about the coupe but, other than his agitated query as to whether or not Nelson minded being chauffeured around in it, Starke had held his tongue.

Grateful for the silence, Lee pulled into the winding driveway of Nelson’s gated home and followed the lane to the front entrance. He heard Starke mutter under his breath as he crawled from the car, but pretended not to hear the older man’s grumbling. On the porch, Lee rang the doorbell and waited patiently for the admiral to answer.

When the seconds dragged on too long, he rang again then fished in his pocket for his key. “Maybe he’s sleeping,” he said aside to Starke, preparing to unlock the door.

The admiral frowned. “You have your own key?”

“In the event of an emergency,” Lee explained but that wasn’t quite the case. There were other occasions when he’d used the key Nelson had given him, following up on simple things like dropping documents off when the admiral was out of town or just having it handy in a pinch. He didn’t think Starke would appreciate hearing Nelson had a key to his beach house as well. It implied a level of trust he knew Starke would likely take exception with.

Pushing the door open, he hesitated just inside the foyer allowing Starke to step past him. As he slid his key back into his pocket, Nelson emerged from the Great room, looking mildly disheveled as if he had been sleeping.

“Lee?” And then with a greater degree of shock:  “Jiggs?”

Lee was too focused on Nelson’s appearance to really pay attention to Starke’s boisterous greeting to his long-time friend. He heard something about a conference ending sooner than expected in D.C. and an excess of days to spare. He narrowed his eyes, trying not to appear too critical as he looked at Nelson.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I thought you might be resting, otherwise I would have waited for you to answer.”

Nelson dismissed the objection. “Just distracted with paperwork.” He waved them toward the Great room. “Come in, both of you.”

Lee hung back as Starke fell in at Nelson’s side, obviously pleased to see him. He listened as the two men exchanged a few pleasantries and jokes. Nelson still looked tired and, if Lee had his guess, he’d wager the older man really had been sleeping and simply didn’t want to admit the lapse. His hair was mussed, a rumpled mass of copper and bronze, his uniform creased with wrinkles. Lee thought his enthusiasm with Starke seemed almost forced, the spark in his blue eyes duller than usual.

“Where are you staying?” Nelson asked his friend.

“I haven’t booked a hotel yet,” Starke supplied, “But I’ll probably end up at the Regency. I thought you and I could grab some dinner, have a few drinks and spend the night catching up.”

“That’s well and good, but Seaview is sailing tomorrow.” Nelson shot Lee an expectant glance. “Unless we’ve encountered complications I don’t know about?” The end of the sentence rose on a query.

“No, Sir. Everything is proceeding on schedule. We can sail as planned. I just thought…” Lee hedged. It was on the tip of his tongue to say ‘I wanted to make sure you were all right. Thought maybe you should have Jamie check you over.’ But that would never fly in front of Jiggs Starke. It wasn’t his place, and Jiggs would certainly take exception with what he’d perceive as audacity.  

“Just what?” Nelson prompted.

Lee adapted quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you had no changes to our departure. If everything is fine, I’ll grab Admiral Starke’s suitcase from my car and…”

Harry gave a loud bark of laughter. “You stuffed Jiggs into your Cobra?”

Starke squared his shoulders indignantly. “There was no stuffing involved, Harriman.”

Lee caught Nelson’s grin and looked away before he answered with one of his own. Excusing himself, he bowed out and retrieved the suitcase from the car. He would have felt better if he could have spent a few minutes talking to Nelson alone, ascertaining he had nothing to be concerned about, but that wasn’t an option with Starke in the picture. By the time he returned inside, the two men were already engrossed in hashing over some prior experience from ‘back in the day.’

Depositing the suitcase, he readied to leave.

“Stay and have a drink, Lee,” Nelson suggested, moving behind a large oak bar positioned to the left of the fireplace. 

“I’d like to, Sir, but Alyssa and I have dinner plans.”

Starke’s eyebrow climbed into his hair. “Still with that woman, are you, Crane? I wouldn’t have thought it would last.”

Uncomfortable, Lee shot Nelson a glance from under his brows. The admiral saved him the need for a reply by laughing softly.

“Why would it surprise you, Jiggs? It’s a good match. And God knows, I wouldn’t want to keep a woman as beautiful as Ali waiting.” His eyes shifted to Lee. “So enjoy your dinner, Lee. I’ll see you tomorrow when we sail.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Given the out, he took it. In all likelihood Starke and Nelson would find someplace to have dinner themselves and maybe that was just what Nelson needed. At least with Starke in town, he’d eat something. 

Lee shot a last anxious glance back to the house as he climbed into his car.

With a meal and a solid night’s sleep under his belt, it was possible Nelson would be fine tomorrow.

Or so he hoped.

**********

It didn’t take Alyssa Halston long to realize the man she was in love with was more than just mildly distracted. Dinner was lovely, and Lee was flawless grace on the dance floor, but she knew him too well not to realize his mind was engaged elsewhere.

“Are you going to tell me what has you so preoccupied?” she prompted at long last when they were alone in his bedroom, undressing for the night. Tomorrow he’d be gone, out to sea again for almost two weeks as Seaview embarked on another assignment. They’d been together long enough that she was used to his absences. Another woman might have found that erratic schedule too difficult to navigate, but her own career as president and owner of an in-demand modeling agency often meant she was gone for long periods as well.

Despite the time apart, they made their relationship work. She’d fallen head-over-heels in love with him, a realization that sometimes left her frightened. She was sixteen years older than he, a former high-profile fashion model and the ex-wife of his boss, Admiral Harriman Nelson. The odds were stacked against them, yet she knew Lee was as committed to her as she was to him. 

She couldn’t help noticing the worried gleam in his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his shoes. She’d been involved with men who were younger before, but never anyone as young as Lee Crane. In the beginning, she walked a tightrope between euphoria and doubt. The newness of passion clashed with the shock of his age and the knowledge she was flirting with something controversial. But given time, love replaced infatuation and, she knew whatever the scope of his feelings, hers were for eternity.  

In some respects it wasn’t fair to him - - she couldn’t have children, or at least at fifty years of age, it would be ill-conceived and dangerous to try. He deserved the chance to be a father. There were certainly many alternatives, including adoption, but sometimes she felt she was depriving him unfairly. They hadn’t talked marriage, but the intensity of their relationship told her they were headed in that direction. It sometimes amazed her she had gone so far in life only to find true love with a man from a generation apart from her own. 

“What makes you think I’m preoccupied?” Lee tossed his shoes aside and stood to unbutton his shirt. He’d run late at the Institute, hadn’t bothered changing prior to dinner, and was still dressed in his captain’s uniform. He tossed his jacket on the bed and started to work on his tie. 

“You’ve been distracted all evening.” She stepped closer and slid her hands onto his shoulders. In her high heeled sandals, she was almost as tall as he. “Is it something with the mission tomorrow?”

He shook his head, his long fingers working to unravel the knot at his throat. “No.”

“Is it Nicole Rook?” Her brows dipped in a crease. “Does it bother you seeing her again after all these years?”

“No.” He frowned as though not entirely satisfied with the answer. He’d told her about Nicole, Ginny and the past. “Not really. It’s awkward, but our contact is limited.”

“You’re worried she blames you about Ginny?”

“No.” This time the protest was stronger. Firmly shaking his head, he stepped away, dropping his tie over his jacket on the foot of the bed.

Alyssa stared at his back, lodging her hands on her hips. “You’re not very convincing, Lee. If it isn’t the mission and Nicole isn’t an issue, then explain why the cocktail dress I wore for the sole purpose of getting a reaction from you has barely earned more than a passing glance all evening.”

“I…” Caught off guard, he turned and blinked. 

“Well, that’s better. At least now you’re speechless.” Smiling she sauntered closer, well aware the slinky emerald fabric hugged her curves in all the right places. Bracing her forearm over his shoulder, she let her wrist dangle free. “I was, however, hoping for a leer, Captain. Something to remember you by while you’re at sea.”

He chuckled, relaxing under her playfulness and molded a hand against her waist. “I think I can do better than that.” Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to hers, softening her mouth for his kiss.

Alyssa could have easily melted into his embrace, but his earlier distraction nipped at the back of her mind. She waited for the kiss to end, surrendering to the moment then looking up breathlessly to catch the muted light in his eyes. 

His gaze was hooded - - antique gold and crisp winter pine shrouded by the jet line of his lashes. She glided her hand from his shoulder to his neck, splaying her fingers along the side. “You kiss very well, Captain Crane, but you still haven’t told me what has you so distracted.”

His eyes lowered further and the hint of a grin flirted at the corner of his mouth. He hooked a finger into the plunging neckline of her dress and pulled, tugging her closer. “Maybe it’s what you’re wearing after all.”

She felt his lips against her throat, warm, slow and sensual. 

With his free hand, he started to unwork the delicate hooks and zipper at her back. “Although I think I could be more distracted if you weren’t wearing anything at all,” he murmured.

She tilted her head, enjoying the heated path of his lips. “You’re not going to tell me are you?”

“No.” He cupped her chin to kiss her again. “But I promise to make sure you remember me while I’m gone.”

Alyssa closed her eyes in defeat as much as anticipation. “Lee . . .”

And then she simply couldn’t think when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

**********

Harry grimaced, rolling his shoulder to work the stiffness from his right arm. He wasn’t usually hindered by age, but he felt disturbingly old this morning. It was almost as if fate had decided to dump another decade or two on his normally robust fifty-three years. He’d stayed up late, reminiscing with Jiggs Starke, but he was used to burning the candle at both ends. Late hours were par for the course for a man who owned a renowned institute and who’d masterminded the greatest submarine in the world.

Sleep was small potatoes compared to the usual demands on his time.

Frowning, he eyed his reflection in the mirror as he buttoned his shirt. He was probably just feeling the results of one too many Scotch and sodas. That, and the knowledge he was going to have to break it to Lee Crane Seaview would be entertaining an unexpected guest this cruise.

He should have probably said no when Jiggs came up with the idea but, with a few drinks under his belt, a good broiled steak and a few hours recalling their long friendship, he’d been hard pressed to refuse. Jiggs had free time on his hands, was tired of bureaucracy and needed a change of scenery before he was ready to tackle the usual lot of political machinations all over again. He’d asked, and Harry had agreed. Deal cemented and sealed.

It was only later he considered how that decision would affect Lee. Jiggs and the young, high-maintenance commander he often thought of as a son did not play nice together, to say the least. Hopefully, the admiral in Starke would be content to sit back and enjoy the cruise rather than criticize or micro-manage, and they’d all walk away with tempers unscathed.

He’d told Jiggs about the golden broom coral and, while his friend couldn’t muster up an equal amount of enthusiasm, he had no qualms about harvesting it. 

Why didn’t you just cut the damn thing out of there in the first place? he’d asked, and Harry had patiently explained about the specialized cutting torches and specimen containers needed to ensure the integrity of the samples. A scientist Jiggs was not, but submarines were in his blood, and that had been enough to get him hyped up about the cruise.

Puffing out a breath, Harry dragged a hand through his hair. Damn, if he didn’t look like he hadn’t slept in days. The smudges of shadow under his eyes had embedded deeply overnight and his skin appeared wan and chalky. He needed to pull it together before he triggered someone’s worry radar - - most likely that of his captain, or worse yet, Will Jamieson. Seaview’s chief medical officer had carte blanche authority when it came to the health of the sub’s officers and crew. If he thought Harry was sick he’d start flinging restrictions around that not even a four-star admiral could overrule.

Coffee. Black. Strong.

That was bound to help. He could already smell the rich aroma wafting up the steps. Jiggs had spent the night rather than bother with a hotel. Always an early riser, he’d apparently located the coffee pot and Harry’s stash of Columbian Bold.

Good.

He needed the jolt of caffeine to get him functioning before dawn bled into the sky. It was still dark outside, but he knew Lee Crane was probably already aboard Seaview. In the ‘pre-Alyssa’ days Lee would have just spent the night on the sub rather than drag himself there in the morning. But that had all changed when his relationship with Harry’s ex-wife kicked into high gear. Now, the captain compensated by setting his alarm a few hours early so he could still arrive before the crew.

Harry dragged a hand over his face. Lee had the right idea. Sex was definitely better than coffee to jumpstart the day, but not everyone was as fortunate as his young and virile captain. If he had time for a relationship, he’d gladly ditch the Colombian Bold in favor of joint sack time. The problem was he was currently, hopelessly single with nary a female on the radar.

Well . . . that wasn’t entirely true.

She often irritated the hell out of him, but Nicole Rook gave him pause now and then - - the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was engrossed in something or the heated spark that entered her eyes when she contested an issue with him. Maybe when the Leviathan II completed its mission, they could . . .

No.

He shook the thought away. He was fifty-three years old, divorced once, and set in his ways. Black coffee was definitely the way to go. Women just complicated matters.

Focused, he bent over his bathroom sink and cranked open the faucet. He cupped one hand under the spray and palmed it against his face. The shock of cold against his flushed skin sent a stab of pain into his head. Just that quickly it was squelched, swallowed by a surprising jolt of clear-headedness. He groped for a towel and smoothed it over his face, breathing easier.

I can do this.

If the damn stiffness in his hand and arm would just go away, he’d be fine. Rummaging in the medicine cabinet he located a bottle of Tylenol and swallowed two with a mouthful of water. He was about to put the bottle back into the cabinet when he thought better of it and jammed it in his trouser pocket. 

He was bound to need a second dose when Lee found out Jiggs was coming along for the ride.

**********

It wasn’t as bad as Harry thought.

Or maybe it was.

As expected, Lee was already on the boat when he arrived with Jiggs. Chip Morton was there too, along with a handful of the more resilient crew who shuffled through the pre-dawn grayness with surprising alertness given the hour. Harry kept his announcement brief - - ‘Admiral Starke will be joining us for this cruise’ - - then disappeared to his cabin before Lee could retaliate with fallout.

It wouldn’t happen in the control room - - Lee was too much of a professional for that. No, his captain knew when to push and when to ride the crest of the wave, waiting for it to break. It wasn’t until several hours later, after Seaview had cleared the harbor and Jiggs was off God-knows-where-doing-God-knows-what, that the expected knock sounded on Harry’s cabin door.

“Come.” He drew a breath, knowing full well the identity of his visitor. Earlier, he’d tried to distract himself with the most recent data he could find on the myth - - yes, myth - - of golden broom corals, but a steadily mounting headache had kept his concentration to a bare-bones minimum.

Seated behind his desk, papers splayed haphazardly across the blotter, he glanced up as Lee Crane stepped into the cabin. There was no mistaking the edge in his captain’s eyes - - one he had no desire to navigate at present. Not with his head pounding the way it was and the ever-present ache in his right hand shooting splinters into his wrist. Dropping his pencil, he flexed his fingers.

“Lee. I take it our departure went smoothly?”

The captain parted with a formal nod. “Textbook, Admiral. I wish I could say the same for the boat’s manifest, but we seem to have inherited a passenger I hadn’t planned on.” He paused just shy of Harry’s desk, his expression unreadable. Anyone else might have affected a stiff posture, hands clasped behind his back, but Lee merely tapped one long index finger idly against the desk’s edge. “Did you know in advance Admiral Starke would be joining us?”

Harry fought the urge to grin. Lee’s stance reflected casual ease, but the tightness in his voice belied his mood. “No, Commander,” he said with just a trace of humor attached to the title. “I had no idea he’d be showing up in Santa Barbara, much less that he’d want to join us on this cruise.”

“But you seconded that idea,” Lee protested.

Harry shrugged. “He’s been cooped up in Washington for the last several weeks, bound up in red tape. You know what that’s like. He saw Seaview as a diversion, and I wasn’t going to be the one to pull the rug out from under him. He’s here as an observer, nothing more.”

Lee frowned. “Admiral Starke doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘observe.’ He isn’t happy unless he’s involved.”

“You sound worried.” Harry’s brows drew together. “Is he giving you grief?”

“No.” Lee deflated with a sigh. Turning, he paced a short distance away, idly swiping a hand over the back of his head. “I just keep waiting for the hatchet to drop. Since we left port, he’s been in practically every vital area of the ship. The last I heard, he was questioning Patterson on the efficiency of the engine crew.”

Harry laughed. “He’s just poking around, Lee. Looking things over.”

“He’s inspecting.”

Harry shrugged. “He hasn’t called you on anything has he?”

“It’s just a matter of time.”

“It’s your boat, Captain. You run a good ship and Jiggs knows it. He’s just enjoying being at sea, making his presence felt.”

Lee mumbled something under his breath.

Harry leaned forward. “I missed that.”

“Nothing, Admiral. Just remembering he doesn’t care for my command style.” Wandering back to Harry’s desk, the younger man poked absently at the edge of the paper menagerie. “What’s all this? More broom coral research?”

“Golden broom,” Harry corrected. “I thought I’d read up on the myth so I have ammunition for any protests Dr. Rook might have about harvesting.”

Lee frowned. “She’s not shy about making opinions known, is she?”

Harry considered. The inflection in Lee’s voice told him the comment had absolutely nothing to do with harvesting coral but something personal. Confused, he’d thought back to that initial meeting in the Leviathan II when he and Lee had taken FS1 from Seaview to meet with Dr. Rook at her underwater lab. He’d already known the woman for several years but thought she was meeting Lee Crane for the first time.

“Dr. Rook, it’s good to see you again.” He shook hands with her then motioned to his side with the intent of introducing Lee. “This is…”

“Lee Crane,” she finished before he could continue. “Captain of the Seaview. Yes. Most of us in the marine biology field are familiar with the name.”

Lee nodded formally, stiffer than usual. “Dr. Rook.”

She had golden eyes. Like the broom coral Harry wanted to harvest. No beguiling threads of amber, jade or brown to offset that startling color. Her hair, straight and shoulder-length, was rich as toasted chestnuts, her skin a little too pale as if she spent all her time indoors. A striking woman with a dominant personality, she commanded a sometimes questionable reputation among her peers. It wasn’t her brilliance but rather her unorthodox approach to research and her theories that often put her on the outs with the scientific community. Admittedly, Harry’s contact with her had been mostly scattershot over the preceding years, but he’d been familiar with her reputation as a radical thinker. Part of him admired her for that. It was that kind of thinking that led her to the discovery of the fossilized coral in the Razorback Fracture Zone. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen to partner with her on the research project.

Having noted Lee, she quickly dismissed him. “You can send your captain back to your submarine, Admiral. I’m sure he’d only find my research boring.”

Caught off guard, Harry was about to protest on Lee’s behalf. Before he could, the younger man surprised him by coolly interjecting he had some diagnostic tests to run in the Flying Sub and would leave them to review matters together.

Looking back on the incident, Harry realized that while very little had been said, there’d been a distinctive undercurrent of emotion between Lee and Nicole, none of it favorable. Deciding to fish a little, he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. 

“No, she’s not shy,” he agreed. “Brilliant . . . considered eccentric.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Lee’s frown twisted into a grin. “Sir.”

Harry chuckled. 

Relaxing, Lee slid onto the edge of the desk, perching comfortably. “So what did you find out about golden broom corals?”

“Other than the fact they shouldn’t exist?” Quirking a brow, Harry leaned forward and reached for the nearest book. He gave it a glance then shoved it across the desk to Lee. “Artist’s conceptions, myth and legends. That’s it.”

Lee flipped it open at random, scanning the first passage he encountered. “It has a curse attached.”

“Don’t all good legends?”

“An omen of good fortune, golden broom corals bring blessings only if left undisturbed.” Lee read directly from the book. The reverse is true if the coral is harvested, resulting in certain destruction for the one responsible. Once disturbed, the curse of the coral cannot be reversed without payment in blood.” Shaking his head, he dropped the book back onto the desk. “You don’t seriously think Dr. Rook believes this nonsense do you?”

“She made it plain she doesn’t want us to harvest the coral.”

“I thought that had more to do with preservation than superstition. I would have given her more credit than that.” The frown was back in place. “She made it plain she didn’t want me lingering in her lab so I was never privy to your discussions with her.”

About to broach that subject with Lee, Harry found himself put off when his captain changed tactics.

“Dr. Rook and Jiggs Starke aside, I really came down to see how you were feeling, Sir.”

Unprepared for Lee’s candor, Harry blinked. “I . . . what do you mean?”

“You left the Institute early yesterday. That’s not like you.”

“I told you . . . I thought I could concentrate better at home without interruptions.”

“Mmm.”

It was not the answer Harry was expecting but, coupled with Lee’s thoughtfully dissecting glance, it helped him recover his poise. Realizing his captain was headed down a path he didn’t want to broach, he cleared his throat and made a show of gathering up several sheets of paper. “I’m fine, Lee. And I’ve got work to do.”

Lee didn’t move. “Is that a dismissal?”

Harry glanced up, meeting the younger man’s eyes. Damn, but it was harder getting around Lee than it was Jiggs Starke. He’d been able to sidestep any obvious physical discomfort last night by telling Jiggs it was work-related fatigue. But Lee knew him too well and would just come sniffing around later. In the long run, it was probably better to own up to some marginal ailment and get it out of the way. Lee was less likely to poke if he thought Harry was taking care of himself.

“All right.” With a sigh of resignation, Harry sat back in the chair. “So, I’m a little tired. It’s nothing out of the ordinary given we’ve all been pushing hard. I should have used last night to catch up on some rack time, but having Jiggs as a houseguest changed that.”

“That’s it?” Lee didn’t look entirely convinced. “Nothing else?”

There was no sense telling him about the headaches or infrequent heaviness in his hand and arm. “Even I get tired, Captain,” he responded, amused. The lightness of his tone did the trick. 

“Point made.” Relaxing, Lee smiled and stood. “You’ll get some rest?”

“As soon as I wade through all of this.” Harry motioned to the papers scattered across his desk.

“Don’t take too long,” Lee countered. Seemingly satisfied, he headed for the door.

Harry waited until he left before sagging back in his chair. Frowning, he flexed the fingers of his right hand, noting the slight discoloration to his palm. The cut from the coral had turned jagged, the edges raised like a puce-colored lightning bolt etched across his flesh. He prodded it with his index finger, wincing when the answering pain splintered into his wrist and thumb.  

Stupid, debilitating cut.

He didn’t have time for anything that left him faltering or incapacitated. Not when something as potentially earth-shattering as a nest of golden broom coral lingered around the corner. Rummaging in his desk drawer, he hunted up his ever-reliable bottle of Tylenol. In a few days Seaview would be back in position at the Razorback Fracture Zone, ready to coordinate harvesting with the Leviathan II. In the meantime, the good people of McNeill Company and Johnson and Johnson would take care of him. 

Opening the bottle, he popped two tablets into his mouth and swallowed them dry.

**********

Jiggs Starke was not an easy man to read. Just when Lee thought he had the COMSUBPAC commander figured out - - all bluster and bravado - - Starke opted to be sly and dissecting, observing rather than riding roughshod. Sometimes that analytical quietness was worse than his grousing.

It was bad enough having Starke dumped on him at the last minute prior to sailing, it was worse being forced to associate on a semi-social level. The first day of Seaview’s cruise, Nelson arranged for a late night dinner in the observation nose with Starke and the sub’s senior officers. Chip was able to worm his way free at the last minute when a problem with one of the port engines demanded his intervention. Thus it was Lee who found himself eating baked chicken and string-bean almandine with Nelson and Starke while trying to navigate small talk and social pleasantries.

It was hard to imagine chitchat of any kind with Starke involved but Lee carried his part of the conversation well, aware the curmudgeon admiral was a close friend of Nelson’s. Personal conflict and dislike aside, anyone who had Harriman Nelson’s welfare at heart automatically earned Lee’s seal of approval.

Starke shook his head when the conversation turned to Nicole Rook and the Razorback Fracture Zone. “I still don’t understand all the fuss over this . . . what did you call it, Harry?” He shot Nelson a questioning glance as he salted his chicken. “Golden bridge coral?”

“Broom,” Nelson corrected. Setting his fork down, he flexed his right hand then absently began to massage the palm. He’d picked most of the evening, pushing his food around on his plate, actually eating little. “To begin with, all of the coral in the Razorback are fossilized, possibly thousands of years old. They’re all of immense interest.”

“But all you keep talking about is the broom,” Starke countered.

“That’s because it shouldn’t exist.”

“Because it’s extinct?”

“Because it’s myth,” Lee interjected. He glanced sideways at Nelson, inwardly bothered by the way the older man continued to favor his right hand. 

Growing aware of his interest, Nelson immediately stopped rubbing his palm and reached for his water glass. Across the table, Starke gave a grunt of disbelief.

“Myth, Captain?” His gaze swiveled to Lee. “You expect me to believe you’re driving this sub at flank speed to some underwater laboratory just to harvest a prehistoric figment of someone’s imagination?”

Nelson chuckled. “It’s not a figment any longer, Jiggs. I saw it. Touched it.”

“Don’t you think you might have mistaken it for something else? You told me yourself that woman doctor . . . what’s her name?”

“Rook.”

“Yes.” He nodded as though remembering a previous discussion. “Didn’t you say she was prone to chase wild geese and dragon tails?”

“That’s her reputation,” Lee inserted, unable to keep a trace of vinegar from his voice. Personal experience had taught him she had a knack for resurrecting ghosts too . . . phantoms of past events and emotions that were better left buried.

Starke frowned openly. “I wasn’t aware you ran in scientific circles, Commander.”  

Stuck. He’d put his foot in his mouth. He might as well just spit it out and get it said since the truth was bound to surface eventually. “Dr. Rook is a past acquaintance of mine.” Lee felt Nelson eye him sharply. “I haven’t seen her in a number of years, but I’m aware of her reputation and familiar with some of her work.”

Nelson was intrigued. “You didn’t tell me that.”

No, because that would lead to Ginny and a host of dreadful memories he hadn’t thought about in over a decade. Feigning nonchalance, he shrugged. “It didn’t seem important to the mission, Admiral. She’s always had a reputation for chasing the impossible but, in this case, it looks like she was right.”

Starke groused something under his breath, chewing around a piece of chicken. “. . . scientists . . .” Lee heard him mutter. “. . . myths  . . . no sense to any of it if you ask me . . .”

Nelson laughed and leaned forward to clap him on the back. “That’s all right, Jiggs. You’re just along for the ride anyway. A change of scenery.”

“Speaking of which.” Starke sat back in his chair, bracing his wrists against the table and angling his knife and fork over his plate as he looked at Lee. “When’s the last time you made a snap inspection, Captain? Crewmembers with lax attitudes spell disaster waiting to happen.”

Lee immediately went on the defensive. “My men aren’t lax, Admiral,”

Starke snorted what he thought of the opinion. “Then why is it I overheard your sonar man and COB discussing Gilligan’s Island in the control room?”

Despite his initial anger, Lee fought the urge to grin. He could just imagine what that discussion must have sounded like and Starke’s reaction to it. “I think you were probably mistaken, Sir. They weren’t discussing TV, but a mutant hagfish known to haunt these waters. What you overhead was the men reacting to a standing order to continually scan for any sign of  . . .”  He trailed off not quite certain how to explain the crew had nicknamed a scientific anomaly after a television character. Starke would never appreciate the humor. Lee had even been irked by the idea until the god-awful ugly thing inadvertently saved his life.

“Scan for what?” Starke prompted when he’d been silent too long.

“Gilligan,” Nelson inserted, saving Lee from squirming through an explanation. The older man’s blue eyes danced with amusement. “My hagfish.”

Starke looked from one to the other. “Yours?”

“It’s a long story.” Nelson waved off the discussion. “Which ranks right up there with golden broom corals and myth.”

“All that glitters,” Lee said softly. When Nelson looked at him oddly, he dropped his eyes. “To a scientist.” Maybe it was just the fact Nicole Rook was the one waiting in the Leviathan II, but he suddenly had a bad feeling about the whole voyage. It didn’t help that Nelson continued to rub his palm, the gesture as absent as it was disconcerting. “Is there something wrong with your hand, Sir?”

“What?” Nelson abruptly stopped the unconscious action as though confronted in a crime. He managed a blustery snort before laughing away the observation. “What would make you say that?”

Before he could think it through, Lee reached across the table and caught his wrist, turning his palm face up. A jagged cut left a raised scar on the surface, the flesh purplish and puckered at the edges. “How’d you do this?”

Irked, Nelson wrenched free. “It’s just a coral cut. It happened on my last dive.”

“It looks infected.”

“So you’re a doctor now too?” Starke shot him a perturbed glance, but Lee could tell the other man waffled on what stance to take. One look at Nelson’s hand and it was obvious it was infected, but there was also protocol and rank involved. Starke clearly felt Lee had overstepped his bounds.

“I don’t need a medical degree to recognize an infection when I see one,” Lee returned icily.

“But apparently a lesson in knowing your place.”

“That’s enough.” Nelson interrupted before the squabble could erupt further.

Lee frowned. “Admiral, I really think you should have Jamie look at that.”

“Consider your observation noted, Captain.” Nelson’s tone made it clear the discussion was over.

Stubborn man, Lee thought, but gave a curt nod and kept the opinion to himself. He’d just make it a point to be more attentive for the duration of the cruise, noting whether or not Nelson continued to favor the hand.

The next morning he was pleased to see a bandage wrapped around the admiral’s palm when Nelson joined him in the control room. Surprised that he’d apparently followed through with Jamie, Lee casually inquired what the doctor’s reaction had been. 

“He swabbed it with antiseptic, gave me a shot of something and said I’m good to go.” Nelson’s answer was a little too smooth as if he’d had it preplanned.

Lee looked doubtful. He was sure he wasn’t getting the whole conversation - - he suspected Jamie’s reaction had been a bit more to the point - - but he also knew the admiral didn’t mince words when determined to have his way. He’d probably told Jamie the antiseptic cream and a shot was all he needed. The doctor might have argued but, in the end, Nelson would have put the kibosh on any objections.

“Jamie said that?” Lee persisted, unwilling to give up so easily. “No mention of fever?”

“Nothing earth shattering or vital enough to put me on the sick list if that’s what you mean. He just told me to be sensible and take it easy.” Nelson’s eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead, the hint of a smile flitting over his lips. “Does that meet with your approval, Captain?”

Lee bent his head, pretending interest in the maps splayed across the plotting table, aware Nelson was lightly chiding.  

“Perfectly, Sir.” Maybe he really was too overly concerned about the whole thing, but Nelson had gone home from the Institute, he had been looking under the weather for days, and the man just didn’t get sick. If one of them got sidelined and ended up in Sick Bay, he was usually the one waylaid and out of commission, not the admiral.  

Twenty-eight hours later when they reached the Leviathan II Nelson seemed as focused and as hale as always. The special cutting torches and specimen containers Seaview had transported from NIMR were transferred to the underwater lab where Lee joined Nelson and the first of several rotating diving parties. Anxious to obtain a sample of the golden broom, the admiral was one of the first in the water. He wasted no time in harvesting a portion of the coral and returning to the Leviathan where he immediately sequestered himself in the lab.

Lee waited until the last of the divers were back aboard Seaview before readying to leave in FS1. From their previous discussions, he knew Nelson planned to remain overnight, working in the Leviathan’s lab. He was about to leave through the access hatch when Nicole Rook abruptly appeared at his shoulder.

“I think we’ve made a horrible mistake, Lee.”

She’d spoken little to him throughout the course of the day, much less addressed him by his first name. Surprised, he halted with his hand on the hatch and turned to face her.

“About?” 

“The coral. Admiral Nelson is a brilliant man, but I think he’s let ambition cloud his reason.” Disconcerted, she bit down on her bottom lip. It was the first time she’d shown any visible signs of anxiety. “My diver, Jensen, was with Harriman when he was collecting the samples, and he said something felt wrong. The whole time they were working, he felt like they were being watched. I have a very bad feeling about this, Lee.”

“Because of some myth?” Dropping his hand, he turned completely, giving her his full attention. He’d always known her to be a little odd, a little ‘touched’ as far as her beliefs were concerned, but this seemed extreme even for her. “Feelings aren’t science, Nic.”

She stiffened. Maybe it was his use of the name he’d call her all those years ago that had her defenses shooting up like iron gates. Abruptly cool, she met his gaze unflinchingly. “Scoff if you want, but I had a feeling about Ginny. I told you not to go that night. I told you something bad was going to happen.”

He ground his teeth together. Damn, but she wouldn’t leave it alone. “That was twelve years ago. She made her choice.”

“After you left her.”

“She left me. The ECT treatments made sure of that.”

“But you went back. For a single night. And you slept with her. Why the hell couldn’t you leave things the way they were?”

He looked at her like she’d gone off the deep end. “What is this? She told you everything we did?”

“She’s my sister.”

“And you’re just as close-minded about the whole thing as you were twelve years ago. I’m here on a mission, Nic - - to collect fossilized coral. If you want to talk about golden brooms, cutting torches, dive times, or anything related to our objective, fine. My relationship with your sister is in the past.”

“So you think.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” She gave a disgruntled toss of her head, sending her hair bouncing against her shoulder. “We’ll agree to forget about Ginny for now. I can be just as professional as you, Captain Crane.” Dropping her arms to her side, she took a deliberate step forward. “But you should be focused on your admiral. He’s headed down a path that’s certain to result in disaster - - for him, possibly for all of us.”

“I’m not interested in myth, Nicole.” Lee turned back to the hatch and spun the release wheel. Yet even as he focused on what he was doing, he couldn’t dismiss the niggling thread of worry in the back of his mind. The same one that had lingered for days, surfacing when he least expected it. He was not a man given to superstition, yet it felt like a cloud of doom had hung over his head from the time Nelson had first discovered the golden broom.

All that glitters.

The sea sang to him . . . beckoned like gold and unmatched dreams. It was the ‘glitter’ in his life much the way science was in Nelson’s.

“Very well.” Nicole pressed her lips together. She seemed to recognize Lee wasn’t going to feed into her illogical worry. “When will you be back?”

“0700. Another dive team will follow in the bell. I believe Admiral Starke is planning on visiting your lab as well. You’re welcome to join us on Seaview for breakfast.”

“I think I can do without the company, Commander.” Pivoting on her heel, she strode crisply in the direction of the lab.

Lee scowled. He was thankful she hadn’t taken him up on the invitation to breakfast. Maybe she could do without the company.

He could definitely do without the heartburn.

**********

Nicole tried not to show her interest, but Nelson’s enthusiasm was contagious. Hunched over a microscope, he alternately jotted notes on a yellow legal tablet while rattling off his findings in bursts of rapid-fire dialog. They were alone in the lab, the two technicians she shared the Leviathan with busy elsewhere, inspecting the diving gear for tomorrow. Despite her conviction the golden broom should have remained undisturbed, the scientist in her couldn’t help responding to Nelson’s findings. Even more surprising was learning a man of such stature and normally measured decorum could grow so animated when something struck a chord with him. She’d heard his temper could be volatile, but his excitement caught her off guard and made him more than a little appealing.

She’d long admired his reputation, even grudgingly acknowledged he was distractingly handsome. More, he had intelligence, wit and passion. They were hard virtues to overlook in a man, especially when that same man made her momentarily forget she was a scientist just by being in the room with her.

But the golden broom . . .

It was hard to relinquish her convictions about the mythical coral even for Admiral Harriman Nelson.  

Hastily scratching notes on his tablet, Nicole was certain he was unaware when she slid onto a stool across the table from him. “I’d like to compare your findings to some of the other coral we’ve found.”

“I thought you’d didn’t want anything to do with this one?” Nelson didn’t raise his head, but she could see a slight curl to his lips, almost as if he knew she was intrigued.

Her spine stiffened. “Admiral Nelson…”

“Harry.”

Taken aback, she blinked. “I beg your pardon.”

“Harry.” This time he did raise his head, the glint of amusement in his eyes unmistakable. “We’re going to be working closely on this project for some time. I think we could do without the formality, Nicole.”

She was tempted to sputter an objection, but there was something about the way he said her name that cut through her defenses. And damn, if he wasn’t totally disarming when he grinned. Why did she have to notice that now? The last thing she needed was to let that grin and charm worm under her skin when she should be focused on the disquieting feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

For as long as she could remember, those feelings had guided her intuition, warning of possible tragedy. She’d had the same kind of feeling the night Lee and Ginny were involved in a car accident, her sister’s life turned upside down because of her injuries. The once vibrant young woman who’d dreamed of becoming a lawyer had instead become a reclusive soul, barely recognizable. Nicole knew she shouldn’t blame Lee. The other driver had clearly been at fault, traveling much too fast for the icy road conditions. She just wished Lee had walked away when Ginny made it clear the relationship was over. Instead he’d gone back and that one night had impacted Ginny’s world in a way that changed her life forever.

Lee’s too, if he only knew the outcome.

Annoyed with herself for being part of the deception, Nicole shook aside the distraction. The issue was Nelson - - Harry­, she mentally corrected - - and the danger she was sure he’d released in harvesting the golden broom.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Still grinning, the admiral crooked a finger and beckoned her closer. “Take a look,” he said, stepping away from the microscope.

She swallowed, mentally warring with her conscience. She was intrigued, but damn, she didn’t want him to know. In the end, the scientist in her made her round the table and peer into the scope. Her breath caught in her throat. “It’s . . . it’s beautiful,” she breathed.

On the outside the golden broom was a dull mustard yellow, but sectioned and placed under the microscope it sparkled like its namesake - - each microscopic cell glittering like a tiny fleck of polished gold.

Harry chuckled. “Not what you were expecting, is it?”

Her head snapped around and she caught him smiling. 

“So . . .” He slid a pencil behind his ear and picked up the tablet he’d been scribbling on, casually flipping through the last several pages of notes. “Do we work on this together? Are you interested in what I’ve found?”

She looked back to the microscope again. Saw that glitter of gold through the lens. The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach grew less invasive as the allure of the coral became stronger. Reaching a decision, she extended her hand for the tablet. “May I?”

Harry grinned, fully aware he’d won, and passed it over.

**********

He was tired, but exhilarated too. 

Harry knew he should have called it a night hours ago but it was hard to shut off his mind when he’d latched onto something extraordinary. Sleep became an inconvenience he didn’t have the time to trouble with. Surprisingly, despite her earlier reservations, Nicole Rook had kept pace with him, taking part in every test he ran on the golden broom. The scope of the whole situation was still more than a little mind-boggling. Not only did the specimen they’d harvested defy dating, but prior to its discovery in the Razorback Fracture Zone, it had hereto been considered a myth.  

Stretching, he shot a glance at his watch. 0318.  In a little under four hours, Lee would be returning to the Leviathan with a diving party. It was definitely time to call it a night, or he and Nicole wouldn’t be able to function when needed. She’d held her own, but he could tell she was tired. Even now she struggled to suppress a yawn as she added chemicals to a specimen container.

“That’s the last,” she said as she capped off the container.

Harry nodded, tossing his pencil on the table. Tomorrow, he’d review his notes and put them in a concise order. They’d already discovered marked differences in the cellular structure of several of the specimens which intrigued him. He wanted to harvest from a different section of the Razorback tomorrow, for although the corals were deep-water and didn’t form a reef in the truest sense of the word, they seemed to contain many of the same properties as hermatypic reef-building corals. Fossilization made it difficult to tell, but the golden broom appeared to have thrived in the deep water, void of sunlight, relying on a food supply of plankton to nurture its growth. But unlike the other more common corals in the colony, the golden broom appeared to exhibit some characteristics of its shallow-water cousins.

And then there was the myth.

“I guess it’s time to call it a night,” he said reluctantly. Once Nicole had moved past her belief in superstition, he’d found he actually enjoyed working with her. She had a sharp mind, was dedicated to her work and was refreshingly down-to-earth when she allowed herself to set formality aside. “There’s not much more we can do without new specimens or transporting what we have back to the Institute. I’d say your research in the Leviathan has been a resounding success, Doctor.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” Tired, she bowed her head and rubbed her eyes, the long hours obviously catching up with her.

“Don’t tell me you’ve moved back into superstition mode?” Harry teased lightly.

She flashed him a glance that was part annoyance and part resigned acceptance. “I thought you’d be more open-minded, Harry. Science is about exploration.”

“And proof.”

He had her there and knew it. 

She stood and paced away from the table, taking a moment to lodge her hands in the small of her back and work the kinks from her spine. “Sometimes you just have to go with your gut,” she countered.

Right now his gut was telling him they were both tired . . . but that she was also surprisingly fascinating. It struck him odd that anyone would doggedly hold onto a belief that had no basis in fact. “And has your gut proven correct before?” he challenged.

The thought seemed to sober her. She turned to face him, absently tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “You know my reputation.” She evaded the question. “Given you surely had me investigated, I’m surprised you chose to work with me on this assignment.”

Folding his arms over his chest, he shrugged. “It’s my business to know the professional standing of anyone affiliated with the Institute.”

“So it didn’t bother you that I’m considered a bit of a crackpot?”

He laughed out loud. “You’re harder on yourself than your contemporaries choose to be. ‘Eccentric’ was the word that popped up most often. Given I’ve been called a lot worse in my day, I figured you were worth the risk.” 

“And it doesn’t bother you that most of my research has been spent chasing myths?”

“Why should it? You’re apparently wealthy enough to fund your own excursions. Either that or you have a backer with deep pockets. You needed Seaview and I needed someone reliable on this project. I’m curious though if you expected to find fossilized coral or the golden broom specifically?”

The hint of a smile touched her lips. He liked the way it added depth and sparkle to her remarkable amber eyes. “I like to think I was chasing a rainbow and stumbled across a pot of gold in the process.” She slid onto the stool beside him, her expression growing more serious. “The golden broom isn’t a myth, Harry. We know that now. Maybe the legends associated with it aren’t myth either. I’ve really enjoyed working with you and I appreciate the fact you accepted me as part as the project when someone else would have chosen a more . . .” She groped for the right word. “. . . traditional-minded candidate. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

He gave a soft snort and dragged a hand across the back of his head. Of course nothing was going to happen - - what was the fool woman going on about - - but then he saw the marked concern in her eyes and realized something more underscored her worry. 

They’d made a connection over the last several hours. Not just a professional one, but an emotional one too. For a woman driven by gut instinct and feeling, it only stood to reason that the sometimes-too-rigid Dr. Nicole Rook responded to mood. Maybe it was just the coral, or the fact it was late and neither one of them were functioning at par, but he suddenly started noticing how the light glinted off her hair and the way her pale skin carried the slightest flush of rose. 

“I appreciate your concern.” Damn, how long had it been since he’d noticed a woman - - really noticed? Seaview, the Institute and his ties to the Navy and government branches left him little time for a social life. Even Lee and Ali had been on him about that lately. More than once they’d extended an invitation to him and his current female companion to some social event. But there’d rarely been a woman he was inclined to invite, and he’d either gone himself or ended up declining altogether. 

No question Dr. Nicole Rook was attractive and intelligent, but there just wasn’t time in his schedule for a social life. He grinned as disarmingly as he could. “I promise to be careful.”

She scowled. “Somehow I don’t think ‘careful’ is part of your vocabulary.”

“You sound like my captain.” 

“Well, at least Lee managed to get something right.”

He couldn’t help noticing a faint trace of sarcasm in her tone. It seemed as good a time as any to do some poking. “He told me the two of you were acquainted from before.”

“Did he? What else did he say?”

To Harry’s chagrin, her expression gave away nothing. “He didn’t. I was hoping you could fill in the blanks.”

“There’s very little to fill in.” She glanced away briefly, avoiding his eyes. “He dated my younger sister for a time. It was over a decade ago.”

“Oh.” Harry did his own guessing - - romance ends badly, Lee’s probably at fault, Nicole harbors resentment on behalf of her sister. It probably wouldn’t do any good to mention Lee was currently involved with a high-profile, ex-supermodel. Salt in the wound, Harry. Just leave it alone.

“I don’t know what happened between Lee and your sister, but I can assure you he’s amazingly competent in his job. Seaview’s never had a finer commander.”

“Yes.” Her gaze slid back thoughtfully. “I’ve heard the two of you are exceptionally close.”

He decided to diffuse the situation. “The same way I’ve heard you’re eccentric?”

She laughed. “I suppose I deserved that. Scuttlebutt and rumors have no place in research. I think you’re right.” Clapping her hands down on her knees, she stood. “We should call it a night. I’d like to go on the dive tomorrow and need to catch a few hours if I’m going to be focused.”

He balked, surprised. “You’re going to harvest some of the golden broom?”

“No. Some of the other corals, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. The damage has already been done.”

“If you believe in superstition.”

She nodded. “I do.”

**********

Lee woke, drenched in a cold sweat. He’d been dreaming . . . of an icy road, another driver . . . the sickening squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber. Only it hadn’t been Ginny in the car with him this time, but Alyssa. His heart shuddered against his ribs, the images all too vivid and real. 

He’d been in love with Ginny once. Or thought he was. But all of that had changed when the ECT treatments destroyed her memory. She had changed, her feelings for him disappearing overnight. He regretted that part of his life, regretted what had happened, but he loved Alyssa . . . knew she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. If the dream weren’t so damn irrational he’d have Sparks radio the Institute and track her down just so he could hear her voice. But it was 1:00 a.m. in Santa Barbara and she’d be sleeping. It was just a nightmare. He wasn’t going to drag her out of bed no matter how much he wanted to assure himself.

Standing, he paced to the head and doused his face with cold water. In another hour he’d be joining Starke for breakfast in the wardroom. Without Nelson acting as buffer, hopefully they’d both survive.

Realistically, if he put things in perspective, the dream was probably just the result of his worry over Nelson colliding with having Nicole Rook in his life again. 

He hadn’t asked about Ginny. Maybe she resented that lack of inquiry, but what good would it do? Ginny had taken off years ago, breaking contact with everyone, even her family. To the best of his knowledge no one had heard from her since. Why bother asking Nicole if she’d heard from her sister when he knew damn well it would just open an old wound?

There’d been a time all those years ago when Nic had actually thought well of him. It was a shame they couldn’t find common ground now.

Deciding he might as well just stay up, Lee headed for the shower. By the time he was through and dressed, the dream was already fading. He’d have Sparks place a call for him later just to be sure Alyssa was safe. He’d feel better if he heard her voice. Hell, maybe Nic was actually spooking him with all her talk of something ‘bad’ destined to happen. 

An hour later, he joined Starke in the wardroom and concentrated on getting through the uncomfortable breakfast. With the COMSUBPAC admiral present there was little chatter from the officers at the other tables who grew uncomfortably inhibited in their normal conversations. Lee took his cue from Starke, answering when addressed, keeping the discussion centered on the Leviathan and her mission. It surprised him that for two men who shared such a close common friend, there was little common ground between them. 

In the end he knew that came down to rank - - the difference between his rank and Starke’s, and Starke’s disapproval of his uncommon friendship with Nelson. 

He was surprised when Starke abruptly shifted gears on him, changing the topic from the next scheduled dive to something far more personal. “So how is Alison Hagan these days?” he asked as he took a swig of coffee.

Lee hedged, taken aback. It was rare to hear Alyssa referred to by her given name, even rarer for Starke to poke his nose in personal issues. He knew the older man knew Alyssa from when she’d been married to Nelson - - before her career had taken off and she’d become the toast of the modeling world. The limelight was behind her now, her business savvy focused on the success of her own sought-after agency but she still turned heads wherever she went, her reputation synonymous with the world of fashion and glamour.

Abruptly guarded, Lee replied carefully. “Alyssa’s fine, Sir.”

“Hmphf.” Starke poked his fork into a fat piece of sausage. “Never did understand that woman. Far too driven for a female if you ask me. She and Harriman were too much alike for any marriage to work. It’s a wonder they lasted three years.”

Uncertain how to respond, Lee filled the gap by reaching for his coffee.

“I’m going to surprise you, Crane. I always had a soft spot for that woman, single-minded as she was. Oh, it was long before Lydia,” Starke clarified when Lee gaped in surprise. “And there was nothing romantic involved. I thought of her like a kid sister. Of course, when she and Harriman split, I lost touch with her too.”

“I didn’t realize, Sir. Alyssa and I don’t talk much about the past.”

“So I would guess. It’s fairly obvious why she’s with you.”

“Sir?”

Starke grinned sharply. “Would it insult you if I told you she’s always had a weakness for pretty things.”

Lee flushed with anger. “I fail to see the need for this conversation, Sir.”

“Then I’ll explain it to you - - you have a habit of infringing in the lives of people I care about. First Harry, now Alyssa. Hell, even my wife is so damn taken with you that all I ever hear is ‘don’t you cause any trouble for that nice Captain Crane.’ It’s moved past annoying into aggravating. I don’t tolerate ‘aggravating’ well, Commander.”

Lee tried not to react defensively. “Your point, Sir?”

Starke leaned forward, bracing an arm against the table. “Females are their own creatures. I don’t pretend to understand them. But Harry I’ve known since Annapolis. You tell him to get his hand checked, and that same night he’s having a powwow with your doctor. If I’d asked him to do the same thing he would have told me to keep my opinions to myself then avoided any kind of medical help for three days just to prove he could.”

Lee stared. “I don’t follow.”

“I didn’t think you would. Let’s just say I’m not entirely enamored of your influence over him, but even I’ve noticed he’s pushing the limits. I tell him that, and he’s just going to jump down my throat. You tell him that and he might actually back off a bit.”

Surprised, Lee felt his anger drain. “But, Sir, I thought you were upset with me for suggesting he have his hand looked at.”

Starke snorted. “Damn right. But that was for Harriman’s benefit. He would have expected me to react that way - - and the bald truth is I enjoy rattling your cage every chance I get. Same as you do mine. You’re too damn sure of yourself, Commander. One of these days that’s going to backfire in your face.”

Though Starke had kept his voice lowered for most of their conversation, Lee noticed he raised it on his closing observations, making sure they were heard by most everyone in the room. One or two junior officers stole a hasty glance in their direction, but most kept their faces uncomfortably averted.

“I’ll be sure to file your concern, Sir.” 

Starke grinned, appreciating his ongoing balancing act between audacity and respect. “You’re a rapier, Captain. You might be able to feint with Harriman, but I’ll give you just enough blade to decapitate yourself. Do we understand one another?”

“Perfectly.” Lee waited half a heart-beat. “Sir.” He was pushing it and knew it but was still smarting over the older man’s crack about Alyssa liking ‘pretty things.’ 

Starke merely grunted and shoved away from the table, preparing to leave. If nothing else, they’d reached semi-common ground where Nelson was concerned with Starke even suggesting Lee continue to prod about his health. 

Maybe this time, the trumped-up bag of hot air would keep his nose out of it.

Lee stood and followed Starke from the room.

**********

After another day of diving, Lee returned to Seaview, this time accompanied by Nelson and Nicole Rook, the sub’s extensively outfitted lab deemed better for the next phase of testing. Though the admiral appeared no worse than the day before, he seemed no better, still looking inordinately fatigued to Lee. Despite that weariness, he worked nonstop, retiring to his cabin after midnight. 

Heading to his own compartment after doing his final rounds of the boat, Lee saw the tell-tale stream of light seeping from beneath the admiral’s door. It only took one knock for Nelson to beckon him inside. Lee’s mood shifted from curiosity to alarm when he witnessed the pallor of the older man’s face.

“Admiral!” He crossed the cabin in three strides, instinctively reaching out to clutch Nelson’s arm. Unsteady on his feet, the admiral surprisingly allowed Lee to guide him to his desk chair where he collapsed with a soft grunt. A surge of heated determination swept through Lee. “I’m calling Jamie.” He turned, reaching for the desk mike.

“No. Wait.” Nelson caught his wrist. “I was just lightheaded for a moment. I’m fine now.”

“I’m not buying that.”

“You’re out of line, Captain.”

“Thank God one of us is.”

Nelson glowered, ready to snap a reply. Just that quickly the blood drained from his face, and he bowed his head pressing his fingertips to his temples. 

Lee heard him mutter an oath.

“Admiral?” Alarmed, he crouched at the side of the chair. “Sir, what’s wrong?” He curled his fingers around Nelson’s sleeve, shocked by the abrupt flash of heat he felt through the material. There was no debate this time. Extending his hand to depress the mike, he leaned toward the desk. “Jamie, this is the captain. I need you in the admiral’s cabin.”

Even then Nelson shook his head, though he didn’t raise it. “You’re overreacting, Lee.”

“So humor me. It won’t hurt to have Jamie look you over. We have another two days of dives scheduled. You’re not going to be able to do much if you’re incapacitated.”

“It’s a simple headache.”

“It’s not simple, and you’ve got a fever, Admiral. I can feel the heat through your sleeve.” Standing, he pressed gently on the older man’s shoulder, guiding him back in the chair. “Just lean back and rest until Jamie gets here.”

“Hang it, man, will you stop hovering! I’m not an invalid.”

“Well, at least your temper’s intact.” Lee didn’t take the outburst to heart, too concerned to be put off by Nelson’s chastisement. If he wanted to hover, he was damn well going to hover. He’d already noticed the skin around the bandage on the admiral’s right hand was purplish in color. If infection had set in that would explain Nelson’s fever and even his lightheadedness. What concerned Lee was that the antibiotics Jamie had given the older man weren’t doing the trick. Had Nelson let things go too long before having his hand tended to?

Several minutes later Jamie arrived in the cabin, and Lee backed out of the way, giving the doctor room. No less disagreeable with Jamie, Nelson continued to protest there was nothing wrong with him that a few pills and sleep wouldn’t cure. After a brief exam, Jamie shook his head. 

“I’m not so sure about that.” Carefully, he unwrapped the bandage secured around Nelson’s right hand. The skin underneath was angry and purple, streaked with red near the edges of the laceration. A single glance told Lee the wound was infected and enflamed. 

“Damn it!” Nelson gave a reactionary hiss when air hit the exposed wound. He clutched his wrist in an attempt to mute the sting, but it was obvious to Lee the pain had spiked straight to his head. His skin, already white and drawn, had turned a sickly shade of gray. 

“You’re going to have to come down to Sick Bay, Admiral.” Gently, Jamie prodded the wound. “This is infected and needs to be cleaned properly. How long has it been like this?”

“I don’t know.” Nelson shook his head, his voice brusque. “Since this morning. Maybe last night.”

Lee exchanged a silent glance with the doctor.

“You should have told me immediately,” Jamie said sternly. He drew a breath, obviously fighting the urge to launch into a lecture. “I might have to put you on an intravenous antibiotic for a few hours.”

“I don’t have a few hours to spare, Doctor.”

“Well, you’re going to have to find the time. I shouldn’t need to tell you what infection can do to the body or the danger of coral cuts in general. We’re going to Sick Bay and we’re going now!”

“Do what he says, Admiral.” Having Jamie ride roughshod freed Lee to act as reinforcement to the doctor. “You can tackle things fresh in the morning.” He slid his hand onto Nelson’s shoulder, giving a brief squeeze. He’d learned long ago the admiral didn’t tolerate coddling of any kind, but he couldn’t help craving that single hint of contact. Maybe Nelson wasn’t worried, but Lee had yet to shake the unsettled feeling in his gut. He’d sleep better knowing Nelson was in Sick Bay with Jamie monitoring him. 

In the morning everything would be back to normal.

**********

Lee woke early, showered and dressed, and headed to Sick Bay. Despite a restless night with unsettling dreams, he remained optimistic he would find Nelson vastly improved after spending time under Jamie’s care. But when he reached the infirmary, the doctor caught his arm and drew him into his office away from the rack area where Nelson lay resting.

“His fever keeps spiking.” Jamie looked tired and haggard, having obviously spent the preceding hours fussing over his patient. “He’s had a rough night but he’s finally sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb him.” 

Bewildered, Lee felt his earlier hopefulness crushed. “But I thought you put him on an IV antibiotic?”

“I did. Unfortunately, the infection has progressed to the point it’s proving resistant.” Jamie shook his head, weariness turning his voice brittle. “I’ve cleaned the wound, taken cultures . . . I wish I had an answer for you, Captain, but I don’t. He let the damn thing go too long.”

“You looked at it the other day.”

“Yes. And it appeared minor then. A simple coral cut and a slight infection. It’s as if the contaminant in the wound has tripled since then, much the way gangrene can spread if left untreated.”

“Are you saying…?”

“No.” With a sigh, Jamie riddled a hand through his hair. “There’s no fear of that, but I do worry the infection may spread to other parts of his body. I think we have to consider the fact we could be dealing with a primitive pathogen. If he cut his hand in the Razorback, then he did it on coral over 12,000 years old. Who knows what microbes might have been present during fossilization? Whatever infected him may have been in a dormant state for eons. The trick is finding an antibiotic the bacterium responds to.”

Lee’s gut curdled into a tight knot. “What about his hand? It looked like the skin was discolored.”

“Yes, but that’s due to inflammation not lack of blood supply.”

“So your recommendation?” In the back of his mind, Lee was already considering turning the boat around and heading back to Santa Barbara. There were still two full days of dives remaining, and he knew Nelson would balk at cutting them short. The key was whether or not Jamie could provide adequate treatment with the equipment and supplies he had on Seaview or if the admiral needed more intensive care in a hospital. “I need to know how bad off he is, Jamie.”

The doctor wavered. “Normally, I would say nothing I can’t handle here. His fever is high, but I believe it’s controllable. Rest is the best thing for him and, quite frankly, I can probably monitor him better here than I can in Santa Barbara. What I’d like to do is schedule check-ups of everyone involved in the dives just to make sure the coral cut is really the source of his problem. If I find anything that would make me second guess that decision, I’ll advise you immediately.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Jamie gave a vague shrug. “A pollutant in the water itself . . . possibly something ingestible by air. The admiral could have been exposed at any point while working in the lab.”

“But Nicole Rook would have been exposed too,” Lee pointed out, “And he was sick before we left Santa Barbara.” He shook his head, irked with himself for not being more forceful with Nelson in regards to his health. “He tried to deny it, but he went home from the Institute early, and I could tell he wasn’t feeling well.”

Jamie nodded thoughtfully. “From what he told me, he cut his hand during our previous trip to the Razorback. If the wound isn’t the source of his infection, it’s a repository. I don’t expect to find any problems with Dr. Rook or the dive teams, but I’d like to be thorough by examining all possibilities. I’d also be interested in speaking to Dr. Rook. She and her technicians have been working in the Leviathan for several weeks. She may have additional information about the coral reefs and the Razorback in general that could be beneficial.”

Lee nodded. Personal feelings aside, Nicole Rook was an expert in her field. If she would just abandon her hokey beliefs centered around myths and superstition, she could be extremely valuable to them. It was why the admiral had chosen her in the first place. If nothing else, Lee had faith in Nelson’s judgment.

“All right. I’ll make the arrangements.” He cast a glance over his shoulder, looking toward the partitioned area where he knew Nelson was sleeping. The bi-fold doors were partially open. He could tell the lights had been turned off in that section of Sick Bay to allow for rest. “Can I see him?” he asked.

“I’d rather you didn’t, Captain. Not just now. I can call you the next time he wakes up.”

Lee conceded a bit reluctantly. He knew it only made sense, but the illogical part of his psyche insisted he wouldn’t be satisfied until he stood at his friend’s side and ascertained for himself the infection wasn’t critical. 

Damn Nic Rook for putting stupid thoughts in my head.

Each day the weight of foreboding grew heavier and more insistent. He’d tried to shake it, but it always came creeping back stronger than before.

“Lee?” Jamie prodded when he’d been quiet too long.

“That’s fine, Jamie.” 

“Good. And since I know you were on several dives, we can take care of your check-up now.”

Lee hedged, but decided he might as well get it out of the way before he got caught up in the day-to-day operation of the sub. “All right.” He unbuttoned his cuffs then started to work on his tie. His eyes narrowed critically as he considered the drawn look to Jamie’s skin. “How long have you been up?” He was dead-certain he already knew. “All night? You’re going to have to get some sleep.”

“After I run through these physicals.”

Lee could have predicted the answer. There was little sense arguing with Jamie when he’d made up his mind. The sooner they worked through his plan, the sooner the doctor could rest and be fresh in the event Nelson needed him. “I’ll have Chip prepare a list of everyone involved in the dives,” he told Jamie, moving to the wall mike to page his executive officer. “Until you rule out a problem, we’ll put today’s dives on hold.”

That wouldn’t please the admiral, but some things were just unavoidable.

**********

Much later that day Lee undogged the hatch for the lab and stepped inside. If felt odd to be there without Nelson. In his mind the admiral was as much a fixture of the room as the long worktable and specimen tanks. He could easily visualize the older man hunched over a microscope or scribbling notes on a tablet, the overhead lights bronzing his red hair with threads of gold.

Lee had been hopeful as the day progressed the news from Sick Bay would improve, but it had done the reverse. Jamie had discovered no ill effects in anyone involved in the dives or handling of the coral - - including Nicole Rook - - but Nelson’s condition continued to deteriorate. His fever remained high, his sleep agitated and restless. Lee had already given the order to return to Santa Barbara over an hour ago.

The two technicians from the Leviathan joined Dr. Rook on the Seaview, continuing Nelson’s research on the coral specimens that had already been transferred to the submarine. 

Edgy and increasingly worried over the admiral’s failing health, Lee decided to seek out Nicole and fish for advice. He’d expected her to be engrossed in her work when he entered the lab but found her seated at the table, staring vacantly into space.

She gave a surprised start when he closed the hatch then made a mental effort to regain her poise. “Captain Crane.” Her glance was cool, her voice icy with professionalism. “I didn’t think the lab was your usual domain.”

Lee sighed. “Look, Nic, let’s call a truce, okay? I’d appreciate it if you could sheath your claws so we can have a civil discussion.”

Her mouth tightened, but she responded to the weariness in his voice. “This is about Harry, isn’t it?”

Caught off guard by her use of the admiral’s first name, Lee struggled to keep his expression neutral. There was more than just casual concern in that query. “Yes.” He didn’t understand the controlled emotion in her voice or the flicker of anxiety in her eyes but, if it would put them on common ground for a time, he didn’t care.

Nicole bit her lip. “He isn’t getting any better, is he?”

“No.” The admission threatened to stick in his throat. She was unlikely to understand his relationship with the admiral but he didn’t care. Sometimes he didn’t understand it either. All he knew was that Nelson was one of the most important people in his life, and the thought of his friend confined to Sick Bay made his gut roil. He walked around the table to face her. “Dr. Jamieson is still focused on the coral cut on the admiral’s palm as the source of his infection. Do you remember him injuring himself during our first visit to the Leviathan?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything.” She hesitated, obviously considering how much she wanted to say. Her glance was guarded, carefully gauging his reaction. “Are you familiar with the concept of coral growing inside a wound?”

“You mean if a piece breaks off and works inward  . . . if it isn’t cleaned from the cut?” It wasn’t the type of focused answer he’d been looking for. He wanted information, not conjecture and more questions. “That’s a myth, Nic. And, even if it weren’t, Jamie cleaned the wound thoroughly.”

“He could have missed something.”

“That’s about as credible as the idea of a curse.”

She titled her head, looking at him pointedly and, in that single pulse-beat, he felt the thing inside his gut tighten in reaction. “No. That’s crazy.” Blowing out an exasperated breath, he paced a short distance away, agitatedly running a hand through his hair. Was he that desperate he was ready to start considering superstition? 

Yet how many times in the past had Seaview encountered something unexplainable or otherworldly? He’d crossed paths with phantoms of the deep, extraterrestrials and monsters. What was a single curse stacked against all the improbabilities that had already shaped his life?

“Do you remember the Rime of the Ancient Mariner?” Nicole asked quietly.

He turned to face her, uncertain where she was headed.

“The golden broom is Harry’s albatross to bear. Instead of cursing his shipmates, he’s cursed himself by disturbing it. Death and Life-in-Death are rolling the dice, Lee.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Damn, if she didn’t have a way of getting under his skin, making him think crazy thoughts.

“They haggled over Ginny and Life-in-Death won,” Nicole continued as though she hadn’t heard. “You could have made a difference then but didn’t. You still have a chance to help Harry.”

“How?” Part of him wanted to kick himself for asking. The other part waited, hanging on her answer. 

“What do you know about the legend of the golden broom?” She looked away almost nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No - - don’t answer that. I’d rather you listen with an open mind.” Her gaze swiveled back, but she was no less guarded, almost as if she feared his criticism. “Harry and I have only worked together a short time, but I’ve always admired him. Having spent time with him now . . .” She flushed and her eyes dipped. “He’s important to me.”

Lee stared, uncertain he read her correctly. Surely, she didn’t mean…

Before he could think it through, Nicole drew a breath and pushed from her stool. She rounded the worktable, turning to face him, as if she felt more comfortable with that barrier between them.

“Are you familiar with the legend of Icarus?”

More myth. Lee tried not to grow frustrated. “Yes. From Greek Mythology. Icarus flew too close to the sun using wings of wax. The wings melted, and he fell into the sea.” Was she going to send him on a wild goose chase to the Icarian Sea - - a stretch of water sandwiched between Turkey and the Greek Isles of Patmos and Leros? 

“Don’t worry.” She smiled faintly as if reading his mind. “I’m not suggesting a course change. I mention Icarus because the legend is relevant to what I’m going to tell you. Some theorists believe his wings were woven with gold and, when they melted, all that glitter fell into the sea. Over time, ocean currents distributed the debris to the four corners of the globe. Most simply vanished, but a few particles became infused with deepwater reefs, creating ridges like broom thistles on the ectoskeletons of the coral. Hence the name ‘golden broom.’ Icarus’ wings were meant to be a blessing, but he used them foolishly and they became a curse. It’s the same with the coral. Icarus died as a result of his folly.”

Lee was growing impatient. “What does this have to do with the admiral?”

“Left undisturbed, the golden broom is an omen of good fortune. Harvesting it releases the same curse that destroyed Icarus. The power behind the broom won’t be satisfied until it claims a life.” Her face crumpled, and she looked away. “In this case, I’m afraid that’s going to be Harry. It’s the reason your doctor can’t find anything to combat the infection. Nothing is going to work, Lee.”

“I don’t believe that.” He didn’t. He’d known all along the whole thing was going to be nothing but a bunch of hocus-pocus hogwash and suddenly felt like a fool for having wasted valuable time listening to it. At least now, Nicole couldn’t say he hadn’t given her an opportunity to convince him. “I’ll put my faith in medicine and Jamie.”

She sighed, her expression glum. “Do what you want, Lee. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

**********

An hour later, Lee found himself in Sick Bay, sitting by the admiral’s bedside. He’d gotten an update from Jamie, but there’d been no significant improvement. Nelson remained in an agitated state of restlessness, drifting in and out of sleep, rarely lucid for more than a few minutes at a time. His fever had dropped but still hovered above the 101 mark. The bandages on his right hand were replaced every few hours as Jamie continued to flush the wound and apply topical antibiotics in combination with ongoing intravenous medication. Thus far the doctor had avoided the necessity of an incision to drain the wound but warned it was a foregone conclusion if it became abscessed. Nicole Rook had been providing whatever assistance she could, but Lee wondered if they were all simply spinning their wheels.

Nelson said he’d cut his hand on coral, but no one knew for certain when or where. Most of the coral in the reef appeared to be between 10,000 and 12,000 years old. The golden broom was another matter entirely, defying dating. Nicole believed it was ancient, and the admiral’s notes seemed to support that theory. If he’d cut his hand on the broom, it only complicated his care and made the treatment he was receiving potentially useless. Jamieson had nothing to combat a primeval microorganism.

Weary, Lee bowed his head, pinching a thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. The admiral hadn’t been coherent enough to give them any true information, most of what they operated on sheer guess work. There were dangers inherent in the sea, even more in submarine travel. To have something as mundane as a piece of coral cause such a debilitating illness was frustratingly senseless. How could a man be relatively healthy one day and incapacitated the next from a simple cut?

But was it simple?

Once he started thinking along those lines, Lee’s mind invariably followed Jamie’s theory of ancient pathogens and Nicole’s illogical mythology fixation. She’d been surprisingly attentive to Nelson’s condition, spending hours in Sick Bay hovering at his side. Coupled with her earlier behavior in the lab, Lee suspected she was more than a little infatuated with the man.  

It wasn’t hard to fathom given Nelson’s many accolades. Professionally and personally, he was someone to be admired. Lee had longed looked up to him from the time he’d been a plebe at Annapolis. In the beginning that relationship had been tinged with a bit of hero-worship, but maturity and age had channeled it into respect. Abiding friendship came later as their paths crossed with more frequency. Now after nearly three years of working closely, Lee felt deep affection for the man he’d come to think of as a surrogate father. Hell, if he was honest, he just plain loved Nelson the way he would any parent. It was just damnably hard to admit - - especially to the admiral.

The rest of the crew was clearly aware of that fondness. Since Nelson had taken ill there’d been more than one discussion that abruptly terminated when he’d walked in. Overall, the boat had been unnaturally subdued, each crewmember affected by the downturn in the admiral’s health. Only Jiggs Starke remained openly quarrelsome, his frustration vented through aggression. For the most part Lee had been able to avoid him, thanks mainly to Chip. Seaview’s executive officer had been running interference, freeing Lee of one less burden and avenue of strain. The longer he could stay clear of Starke, the better.

Unconsciously, he found his gaze drawn back to Nelson. Time had crept further along in the evening, the lighting in Sick Bay muted for rest. In spite of that dimness, the pallor of the older man’s face was starkly visible, heightened by ravaging lines of illness. Lee was used to Nelson’s animation and vigor. Seeing him reduced to a sickbed felt horribly wrong, as if he’d been caught up in some cruel twist of fate.  

As he watched, Nelson stirred, shifting restlessly on the bunk. Jamie had stepped out briefly on Lee’s orders that he get something to eat. A corpsmen was due any minute, but the captain appreciated the brief solitude - - a moment to sit and think, alone at Nelson’s side. The older man mumbled something incoherent, twisting his head on the pillow. 

“Admiral?” Lee slid a hand onto his forearm, giving a gentle squeeze. “Sir, try to rest.” How many times had he said that on his scattershot visits to Sick Bay, wishing he could do more than mouth platitudes or dab the sweat from Nelson’s brow? Half the time he wasn’t even sure the admiral heard him. 

The skin beneath his fingers was rabid with heat, strung taut with tension. Lee reached for a fresh cloth from the stack Jamie kept nearby and lightly blotted the perspiration from Nelson’s cheek. A flicker of movement exposed a bright glimmer of feverish blue beneath his lash line.

“Admiral?” Lee felt his heart stick in his throat along with an impulsive surge of hope. “Sir, can you hear me?”

Another muttered reply as Nelson’s lashes dipped again. He fidgeted on the bed, pushing at the light cotton sheets.

“Sir, try to lie still. You need to rest.” Lee sent a quick glance to the wall mike, debating about summoning Jamie.

“Lee?” 

His indecision was immediately squelched as his attention landed solely on Nelson. “I’m right here, Admiral.” The older man’s eyes were open now, and there seemed to be vague recognition buried deep in his gaze. Lee squeezed his arm, wrapping his fingers firmly around his wrist. He knew the touch registered when Nelson rolled his head to look at him directly. 

“Where?” His voice came out a hoarse croak, just a fraction of what it normally was. 

Lee reached for a pitcher of chilled water on the bedside table and poured a cup. “Here, drink this. It will help.” He slid his free hand beneath Nelson’s head, raising him slightly until he took several swallows from the plastic receptacle. It concerned him that the admiral’s skin was so wan, his eyes sunken and glitter-bright. If only the damn fever would break. He could see beads of sweat trapped in the copper waves of Nelson’s hair. Setting the cup aside, he picked up the cloth again and swiped at the dampness.

Nelson grunted. “Where?” he said again.

“You’re in Sick Bay.”

“No.” The admiral gave an agitated shake of his head. “Seaview?”

Abruptly Lee understood. He smoothed the cloth along the curve of Nelson’s jaw before setting it aside. “Headed back to Santa Barbara.” He was already focused on the fact Nelson was shivering, moving swiftly from heat to cold. Tugging at the sheets, Lee pulled them higher on his chest.

Nelson groaned and rolled his head on the pillow, looking away. “Go back,” he mumbled. His eyes dipped briefly, and he grimaced. “Can’t . . . was wrong . . . too sick . . .”

“I know you are, Admiral.” Lee felt his gut clench. It was one matter to think it, another to hear the older man admit it. “It’s why you need to rest.”

“No . . . too sick . . . not normal . . .” Nelson persisted.

Lee frowned. He’d worked with Nelson long enough to understand where his mind was headed. It wasn’t that the admiral was acknowledging how ill he was, but that the very nature of that illness wasn’t natural. “Jamie thinks it might be a resistant pathogen from the coral - - a microorganism as old as the reef.” He paused, wetting his lips. “Sir, what did you cut your hand on? If you could remember . . . it might be important.”

Nelson closed his eyes and shuddered. He looked away again, turning his face toward the bulkhead. Several seconds passed during which time Lee was certain he’d fallen asleep. Trapped between relief that Nelson was resting and frustration that he hadn’t gotten an answer, Lee expelled a noisy breath.

“. . . broom . . .” Nelson whispered.

For a moment Lee wasn’t certain he’d actually heard the word. The admiral’s lips were cracked and dry, the answer every bit as parched. Lee leaned forward, his hand automatically returning to rest on Nelson’s forearm. “You cut it on the golden broom?” he persisted.

Nelson murmured something that might have been a ‘yes.’

“Admiral?” But this time there was no acknowledging response, just a shallow, raspy inhale of breath.

Dejected, Lee dropped his forehead to the edge of the rack. He closed his eyes, holding tight to Nelson’s wrist as he let a rare wave of depression wash through him. It scared him to think the admiral had pegged his own illness as unnatural. Nelson hadn’t been fully coherent, but he’d been trying to rationalize his thoughts even then. Unfortunately, the conclusion only boded gravely for his condition. Jamie was stumped and running into brick walls. The admiral’s muttered assessment reinforced the helplessness of what they were facing. At least now he could relay to Seaview’s doctor he was fairly certain Nelson had sliced his hand on a piece of golden broom coral. Even with that knowledge, he wondered if he should trust a declaration made while semi-delirious?

Lee sucked down a jagged breath. “Sir, you have to get well,” he whispered. What if he couldn’t recover? What if the illness left him debilitated physically or mentally, or worse yet, proved fatal? Lee couldn’t begin to imagine life without the man he’d come to cherish so highly. Their relationship went far beyond Seaview and the Institute. “You’re much more than a friend and an employer,” he muttered. “I should have told you that long ago.” Had he? Had he ever actually vocalized what he felt? “I’d give anything to have you well again. You have to fight this. For both of us.”

He heard footsteps behind him   

Jamie. Coming back from the wardroom.

Lee raised his head, turning to look over his shoulder. It wasn’t the doctor who stood directly behind him but a sour-looking Jiggs Starke. 

“Whining about it isn’t going to help,” Starke said gruffly. “You should have kept after him about that damn wound like I told you to.”

Lee shot to his feet. It suddenly occurred to him that Starke hadn’t just entered but had obviously been there a few minutes - - more than enough time to overhear what Lee had imagined a private dialogue with Nelson. He flushed with indignation. “I should have kept after him?” he challenged, anger turning his voice to steel. “Were you completely incapable of adding an opinion of your own?”

Starke’s face darkened swiftly. “Sir,” he spat. “You’re out of line, Captain. And you forget to whom you’re speaking.”

Lee narrowed his eyes. “Sir,” he seethed between clenched teeth.

“I’ll overlook your attitude this time, Mister, given the circumstances. Henceforth, you will make sure you use the proper tone of respect when you address me. Is that clear?”

Lee bit his tongue. “Yes, Sir.” He reminded himself Starke was every bit as worried as he. The older man just had different ways of venting that concern, one of which was bashing junior officers. Even then Lee chafed, forcing control when his poise threatened to crack. He and Starke just naturally rubbed each other the wrong way. No matter what he did, that underlying friction was always there. Unable to relax, he stood stiffly as Starke moved past him to gaze down on Nelson. 

A cloud of disquiet passed over the COMSUBPAC commander’s face as he beheld Nelson’s haggard appearance. “What’s wrong with that blasted doctor,” he muttered. “He should have found an answer by now.”

“Jamie’s doing all he can,” Lee said sharply, immediately regretting the knee-jerk response. What he’d said was true, but there was no sense aggravating Nelson’s oldest friend. Sighing, he relaxed marginally, striving for common ground. “It’s difficult, Sir. According to Dr. Jamieson, the infection isn’t responding the way it should. Once we get back to Santa Barbara - -”

“Nothing is going to change,” Starke interrupted curtly. “The answer isn’t in some hospital lab; it’s out there…” He waved his hand to indicate the ocean waters crowding close beyond the bulkhead. “Use your head, Commander. You said yourself the infection isn’t responding the way it should. What makes you think a bunch of test tubes and medical wards are going to change that?”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Go back to the damn Razorback. I’m not a scientist or a doctor but, if the cause was the coral, then the cure has to be there too.”

Lee considered, surprised Starke would advocate returning to the reef. He’d always viewed the COMSUBPAC commander as a rigidly practical man, but it wasn’t level-headedness that motivated that return to the reef. It was speculation, hope, and a healthy measure of frustration. It made Lee realize how much the older man cared for his friend. Starke was just as bad as he was at vocalizing it, but by suggesting something wholly out of character he’d revealed his desperation.

Lee nodded thoughtfully. “You might be right.” He wanted Nelson safe and in a hospital, but if there were no answers to be found in Santa Barbara what good would it do?

“Of course I’m right.” As soon as he said the words, Starke looked away. If they made the return trip and scored zero it further delayed any potential care Nelson might otherwise benefit from. 

But there was the Flying Sub too. If needed, it could transport Seaview’s designer to a care facility in record time.

“You should have done something earlier,” Starke said with a dark glance. “You should have kept at him when I told you to. If you want to help him, take some responsibility now. Getting your submarine back to port isn’t the answer, Captain.”

Lee felt his back stiffen, but before he could grow fully defensive, Jamie arrived in Sick Bay. With a single glance he took in the two men and seemed to recognize the lingering combativeness in the air. “Gentlemen, don’t you think it’s a bit crowded in here? I’d like Admiral Nelson to rest undisturbed as much as possible.”

Starke headed for the door with a grunt. “Take care of him,” he muttered and left.

Lee sighed. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, gut instinct told him Starke was right. The cure for Nelson’s illness was in the Razorback, not Santa Barbara. 

“Jamie, I need to talk to you.”

It was time to roll the dice. He just prayed he was correct and wasn’t gambling foolishly.

**********

Having already given rein to impulse by ordering the sub around, Lee decided to go for broke and fully embrace all possibilities concerning Nelson’s illness and recovery.

And - - as much as he might chafe at the idea - - that included the curse of the golden broom coral. After convincing Jamie he was doing the right thing by heading back to the Razorback, Lee locked himself in the admiral’s cabin and delved into Nelson’s research on the coral and its curse. He spent hours pouring over Nelson’s books and scattered clippings, trying to make sense of his notes. While he hadn’t given credence to the curse of the coral, it was clear from Nelson’s scribbling that he’d found it interesting. Lee already understood the connection to Icarus thanks to Nicole, but what he hadn’t expected was to get caught up in the ideology of the curse itself. The same passage that had struck him before when he and Nelson had discussed the coral drew his attention again. 

Looking at it now, he realized it was part of a story - - the ramblings of an ancient seer sharing his wisdom with a young explorer who’d harvested the coral because he fancied its coloring.

“Folly and greed are eternal stumbling blocks to the young,” the seer told the adventurer with a saddened shake of his head. “An omen of good fortune, golden broom corals bring blessings only if left undisturbed. The reverse is true if the coral is harvested, resulting in certain destruction for the one responsible. Once disturbed, the curse of the coral cannot be reversed without payment in blood. Though you seek all that glitters, you will find only death.”

Lee swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the book he clutched in his hands.

It’s just gibberish . . . a myth. A story. It isn’t true.

Unable to ease his fears, he continued to read, his heartbeat accelerating with each word.

“Then is there nothing I can do to stave off death?” the young man asked.

“Not unless you find another to take your place.”

Lee closed the book. 

It was all just silliness . . . fanciful ramblings and nonsense. There was no such thing as curses or enchanted coral. Icarus was a myth just as the story was a myth - - a fable meant to teach the reader about the folly of impulsive actions and greed. And yet . . .

Nelson wasn’t getting better. His illness defied logic and, realistically, they’d all been subject to the seemingly impossible before. What if there was a shred of truth in the tale? Wasn’t the admiral’s life worth the chance?

Starke had already accused him of not being responsible, and Nicole blamed him for the same failure with Ginny - - saying he had a chance to redeem himself with the admiral. What if he could barter his own health in place of Nelson’s? He was young, in excellent physical condition and had endured grueling circumstances, even imprisonment and punishment in the service of ONI. Given the same infection Nelson suffered, Lee’s odds of survival were statistically better.

Crazy . . . but was it possible? Or was he just desperate, grasping at straws?

The questions stayed with him throughout the remaining hours of the night. Seaview didn’t reach the Leviathan until 0900 the next morning. Lee managed to grab a few hours of restless sleep but tossed fitfully with troubling dreams. Nelson was worse when he awoke, bordering on comatose. 

Reaching a decision, Lee ordered the Flying Sub made ready. He had Kowalski act as co-pilot, then sent it and the rating back to Seaview saying he would radio when he was ready for pick-up. Whatever the outcome of his impossibly far-fetched scheme, he intended to face it alone. He’d told no one of his reason for visiting the sealab, fully aware any sane person would react as he had when Nicole first told him the legend of the golden broom. In all likelihood, he was an idiot for even entertaining the idea of breaking the curse, but he loved Nelson enough to try. For the admiral, he’d try anything. More than once if he had too.

Lee stood in the main portion of the lab, listening to the silence. It felt eerie and still, the lack of activity making the compact dome seem suffocating. He was used to being underwater, used to working at extreme depths in all types of submersibles, but for some reason, the Leviathan felt unnaturally confining. Shrugging from his flight jacket, Lee brightened the overhead lights, adding illumination to the inner cavity. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, disturbed to realize sweat had broken out on his forehead. If he didn’t know better, he’d say he was flirting with the sharp edge of panic.

Crazy.

He looked toward the view windows and saw Seaview hovering just off the port side. Nelson had constructed the Leviathan which like his famous submarine, had windows of herculite. Strange how even that view of the seascape and his beloved submarine did nothing to ease Lee’s uncharacteristic anxiety.

He palmed a hand against his cheek, mopping aside perspiration, then thumbed open another button on his shirt. It was almost as if the air revitalizer had been switched off, but he knew better. One deep inhalation and he could feel an underlying kiss of cool air slide into his lungs. He was just experiencing anxiety over Nelson.

Setting aside his own discomfort, he crossed to the nearest worktable. Much like those in Nelson’s lab it was littered with test tubes, specimen containers and an assortment of chemical vials. Two microscopes, several beakers, a flask and a stack of wire-bound notebooks occupied the space closest to him. It was, however, the object sitting on a glass plate that drew his attention.

It didn’t glitter or twinkle with gold. Compared to other specimens he’d seen, he would have called it ugly. This piece of golden broom was more brown than yellow, shot through with honey-colored veins from top to bottom. He hadn’t expected to find it waiting for him but knew as soon as he saw it, no one from Seaview or the Leviathan had placed it there. Every bit of coral the dive crews harvested had been carefully transferred to specially designed containers for preservation. Afterward, all the specimens were taken to Seaview for study.

And yet this one remained - - plain as day, exposed to the elements - - a chunk as large as a cantaloupe. Lee stepped closer, pausing to rub a hand over his throat. There was no longer any question he was on a fool’s errand, but he was convinced somehow, someway, it was the only course of action left to him. He no longer doubted or tried to reason through a web of impossible logic. He just knew. It was almost laughable to find himself in complete agreement with Nic Rook but, as he stood there sweating, his heart pulsing into his throat, he knew with sudden insight the coral was the difference between life and death for Nelson.

One touch and he could change fate - - exchange his life for the man he’d grown to love as a father. There was no longer a question of games or myth, only an impossible reality that became startlingly concrete in his mind. He thought of what he’d be giving up - - Alyssa, Seaview, his friends, his world. Everything he cherished and held dear.

But the moment he thought of Nelson nothing else mattered. 

“Take me instead,” Lee whispered and touched the coral. 

It crumbled to dust beneath his hand, spewing a dark gaseous cloud into the air. He staggered backward, engulfed by the noxious haze, a smell like super-heated tin and blood rushing to his head. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the deck as his world erupted in a flash-fire of pain.

**********

Harry woke with a start.

He’d been dreaming of heat and cold, ravaging extremes that made him feel trapped in a maelstrom. And just that quickly the glut of fire and ice had been replaced by a pleasurable sensation of floating. He’d thought briefly of Lee, and in that quicksilver second when his mind had been focused on his friend, the pain had started all over. Different this time - - stabbing and fierce, an agony so raw and sudden it ripped him wide awake.

He sat in the stillness, heart hammering against his ribs, his whole body shuddering at being released so abruptly. It was only a nightmare, excruciatingly real, but a nightmare all the same. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, he dragged a hand through his hair, finger-combing the disheveled strands into place. With a start he realized he was in Sick Bay. Just as swiftly came a hodgepodge string of memories: Lee and Jamie fussing over him in his cabin; Nicole Rook sitting beside him as he twisted with fever; Jamie changing the IV bag beside his rack; Lee telling him . . .

What? What the hell had Lee said?

His mind refused to wrap around the discussion. Lee had said something important . . . sitting beside him with his forehead pressed to the mattress, those long fingers of his holding tightly to Harry’s wrist. And Jiggs Starke had been there - - saying all the wrong things to Lee, making his friend feel he was somehow responsible for Harry’s condition. 

He frowned, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress. 

Damn. Everything felt jumbled in his head. All he knew for certain was that whatever malady had plagued him before had eased its crushing grip. Maybe he was a little unsteady on his feet - - he tested his balance by standing - - but he certainly didn’t need to be hooked up to an IV and a series of monitors. Several were already shrieking and blinking at him, setting his teeth on edge.

Before he could work up a suitable outburst, Jamie barged in from his office. The grim concentration on the doctor’s face quickly changed to a look of shock.

“Admiral! Sir, what are you doing out of bed?” Jamieson rushed to his side, gripped his arm and immediately attempted to steer him back to the rack. “You need to stay off your feet.”

“Hang that!” Incensed, Nelson shook off his grip. He wasn’t going to be stuffed into a bunk like some feeble invalid who couldn’t function. Whatever the hell had been wrong with him was in the past - - over, done with. Finito. “I’m fine. Now get this garbage off of me!” He motioned brusquely at the IV tubing and monitor nodes.

Jamie didn’t bat an eye. “I’ll be the judge of whether or not you’re fine.” But even as he said the words, the doctor’s expression changed. He obviously found it stupefying that his patient was up, mobile and grumbling.

Consenting to the inevitable, Harry allowed Jamieson to put him through a battery of checks - - heart, pulse, respirations, blood pressure, temperature. The sooner he got it over with, the sooner he would be out of Sick Bay. He waited patiently while Jamie unwound the bandage from his right hand and inspected the wound. Even Harry was surprised at the result.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Perplexed, Jamie gazed down on the wound. All that remained of the angry gash was a thin white line. His gaze flexed to Harry’s face. “You do realize you were seriously ill, Admiral? Nothing I gave you made the slightest change in your overall condition.”

“Well something did,” Harry complained. He felt edgy, confined, anxious to be away. Something worried at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The harder he tried the more it escaped him, like an image constantly shifting out of focus. Instinct told him it had something to do with the nightmare that had awakened him. Something to do with . . .

“Where’s Lee?”

Finishing his exam, Jamieson hooked his stethoscope around his neck. “He had Kowalski take him down to the Leviathan in the Flying Sub. Ski said the skipper was going to radio when he was ready for pick-up.”

“He’s down there alone?” Somehow he already knew the answer to that. Nicole was onboard Seaview and, in all likelihood, her technicians had joined her. It wasn’t logic or the process of elimination, just a cold certain dread that whatever Lee was involved in had something to do with his abrupt, miraculous recovery. “What’s he doing down there?”

“Looking for answers. Jiggs Starke put it in his head that the cure to your illness had to be in the Razorback.”

Harry swore softly. “Since when does Jiggs know anything about medicine or cures?”

“Harry, what’s the problem? I can’t explain it, but from everything I see at first glance, you appear to be as good as new. Lee’s going to be ecstatic when he hears…” 

“No. Lee already knows.” Harry shook his head, the cold in his gut congealing into an icy lump. What had Lee said sitting at his bedside? It came back to him now through the remembered delirium of pain and fever. . .‘I’d give anything to have you well again.’ 

Sickened by an overwhelming feeling of dread, he looked around for his clothes. “Have a corpsman get me a clean uniform. I’m taking FS1 to the Leviathan.”

Jamie gave a placating shake of his head. “Admiral, I think it’s best if you just stay here for awhile.”

“Now, Doctor!” Come hell, high water, or a bullheaded chief medical officer, he had no intention of being overruled. Not when his gut told him Lee had left to make good on his promise.

He narrowed his eyes. “I want you on standby, Jamie. I pray to God I’m wrong, but I may need you when I reach the Leviathan.”

**********

Jiggs Starke muttered an oath under his breath and settled in for the ride. When he’d realized Harry was completely recovered, his spirits had erupted in a rare but giddy rocket launch to cloud nine. Unfortunately, that euphoria had been short-lived.

He’d no sooner burst into laughter, clapping his old friend on the back than Harry had read him the riot act for sending Lee to the Razorback. 

“What were you thinking? I wish to God I’d never seen that damn golden broom coral. Don’t you realize what he’s done?”

Jiggs had no idea what Harry was yammering on about or why he was suddenly concerned with Crane. So the cocky young captain had gone down to the Leviathan. Big deal. All Jiggs cared about was that his oldest friend was healthy and well - - and, okay, irritable as hell.

Why that bad temper was tied up in fanatical concern for Lee Crane was beyond him. The man spent entirely too much time worrying about Seaview’s commander in his opinion. So what if Crane had hightailed it over to the Leviathan? He’d been searching for a cure to Harry’s illness as any competent officer should. Maybe the cure was no longer needed but Jiggs didn’t see how that equated into Harry having a volatile meltdown. The man was practically seething as he sat behind the controls of FS1, maneuvering the small yellow sub into position for hook-up with the Leviathan.

“I don’t see what all the grumbling is about,” Jiggs groused as the locking mechanisms engaged. Harry had tried to radio Crane from the sub but he wasn’t answering. It was that silence that had set the red-haired man dangerously on edge. “He’s probably just out on a dive, or engrossed in what he’s doing.”  

Harry shot him a dark look. “I know, Lee. He’d answer. Especially when he heard it was me radioing.”

Harry had him there. Crane knew his boss had been gravely ill. If he’d heard Harry’s voice crackle across the radio, he’d have gone out of his way to answer. For the first time, Jiggs began to think that something might be wrong.

“Look, Harry…Crane’s resourceful. It galls me to admit it, but he’s one of the best. Odds are his radio is just out of commission. I think you’re getting agitated for nothing. What could go wrong on a sealab?”

But the look in Harry’s eyes made his blood run cold.

“You don’t understand,” his friend said soberly. “He didn’t go there to find a cure. He went to offer himself as a sacrifice.”

Jiggs gave a reactionary snort. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Harry shut down the Flying Sub’s engines. “Something I feel in my gut. Something I saw in a dream.”

**********

Harry wasn’t really sure why he asked Jiggs to go with him other than the fact he wanted someone to act as backup if Lee were seriously hurt. He couldn’t ever remember experiencing such a strong sense of foreboding in his life. The longer he was awake, the more he was able to tune into his dream, bits and pieces of it surfacing in his mind. He knew the pain he’d felt had been Lee’s pain. He thought back to the book in his cabin . . . the tale of the ancient seer and the young explorer. If Lee had read that, believed that . . .

He remembered Lee sitting by his bedside in Sick Bay telling him to fight, that he’d give anything to have Harry well again. Anything. Had the young fool actually thought to bank on the tale of the explorer and barter his life for Harry’s? Jiggs Starke had put it in his head that the answer lay in the Razorback, the source of the coral. Lee hadn’t gone to look for a cure, as Jiggs thought, but to offer himself as a sacrifice. For Lee Crane, myth became reality as it now did for Harry.   

How ironic that in the end Nicole had been the sane one, believing in curses and superstition from the start. He should have talked to her . . . dragged Jamie along with him since he was so sure Lee was in serious danger. But in the back of his mind he knew neither would have made a difference. Fate didn’t play by logic or rules.

Harry had unleashed something unstoppable the moment he’d disturbed the nest of golden broom in the Razorback. Lee was trying to rectify that with his own life. If there was any escape for his captain, Harry knew that release had to come from him. Not Nicole, Jamie or anyone else. Harry was solely responsible and, for Lee more than anyone, he was willing to accept that responsibility.

He opened the connecting hatch to the lab and stepped inside, Jiggs right behind him. The first thing he became aware of was the odor - - a strange combination like sun-heated metal and liquid sugar - - the second, a limp hand upturned on the deck behind the central workstation. Lee’s onyx ring glinted in a halo of reflected light.

In a single heartbeat Harry’s world threatened to collapse, his worst fears confirmed. 

“Lee!” He darted around the table, kneeling to crouch at his friend’s side.

Lee was on his back, one arm outstretched above his head, the other limp across his stomach. Sweat glistened on his cheeks and lay trapped in his hair, his normally well-groomed bangs a riot of damp black curls. His breathing was rasp, his chest rising laboriously on each jagged inhalation. Though his eyes were closed - - the heavy fringe of his lashes angling spiked shadows across his cheeks - - Harry was certain he was semi-conscious.

“Lee?” He gripped the younger man’s shoulder and was rewarded by a soft moan. Lee’s lashes fluttered sluggishly. He rolled his head on the decking, dragged back to awareness.

“Easy, lad. We’re going to get you back to Seaview.”

“Admiral?” Lee struggled to focus. He seemed to realize he was no longer alone. His eyes were feverish, bright as sun-cut crystal, but his gaze was calm. The shadow of a smile traced fleetingly across his lips. “You’re  . . . not sick, Sir.”

“No. I have you to thank for that.”

“Nic was right,” Lee breathed in awe. “The legend  . . . real.” He grimaced abruptly and drew his legs up, bending them at the knees. “ I . . . the coral . . . disintegrated . . .”

Harry didn’t give a flying freakshow about the damn coral. All that concerned him was the pain he saw reflected in Lee’s eyes. “Jiggs,” he said over his shoulder. “Get Seaview on the radio and have Jamieson standing by. Tell him Lee’s in bad shape.”

“ . . . don’t understand . . .” Lee’s long fingers closed over Harry’s arm. He drew a laboring breath. “Released a cloud . . . hard to breathe.”

“The coral disintegrated and released a cloud?” Harry didn’t remember a piece of the coral being left behind in the Leviathan, but he was past discounting anything. Not with Lee in such wretched shape. Besides - - his captain could have dived solo, located a piece and brought it back to the lab. Abruptly, he understood. “You inhaled something from the coral? It’s hard for you to breathe?”

Lee nodded.

Harry wet his lips, his mind in overdrive. Behind him he could hear Jiggs calling for Seaview but his attention was on Lee. “Will it hurt if I move you?”

The captain closed his eyes, parting with a short laugh. In that sound Harry had his answer:  Won’t matter. 

“Listen to me.” He tightened his grip on Lee’s shoulder, bending close to his ear. “I don’t know how you did what you did, but this isn’t the end. For either of us. I’m going to get you back to Seaview, and we’ll deal with this. You told me to fight, now I’m ordering you to do the same. I’m going to sit you upright.” He slid his arm under Lee’s back. “We’ll take it slow . . .”

“Jiggs!” He snapped over his shoulder. “Find some oxygen.”

As long as Lee was breathing, there was hope.

**********

Jiggs took one look at the scene behind him and switched off the mike. “I can’t raise the sub.”

Damn, but it was starting to look like Harry’s captain had gotten himself into some kind of serious mess. He’d just talked to the young fool in Sick Bay not that long ago, and he’d been fine then. Stressed, yes. Tired, yes, but they all were. And stress and fatigue came with the territory of command. Crane should be used to managing both. How could he go from appearing healthy to looking like he was at death’s door?

Abandoning the mike, Jiggs raided several supply cabinets until he found a tank of portable oxygen. By that time Harry had Crane sitting up, leaning back against a stout table leg for support. The younger man’s skin was gray, his eyes closed. Harry kept a hand on his shoulder, steadying him as Jiggs joined them, crouching on the floor.

“You’re going to be fine, Lee,” Harry whispered. He placed the oxygen mask over Crane’s nose and mouth, nodding at Jiggs to engage the tank. A hiss of air followed, and the captain’s eyes fluttered open.

“Steady, lad.” Harry’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, not the brusque business tones or even badgering banter Jiggs was used to. This was a different Harry - - caring, openly demonstrative - - one he didn’t quite recognize. 

“Take slow breaths,” Harriman told his captain. “Lean back against me. I’ve got you, Lee.”

There was no hesitation on Crane’s part. He closed his eyes and folded gratefully against Harry, breathing raggedly through the mask. 

Complete trust, Jiggs realized. It threw him off balance. Not only did Crane place his faith in Nelson, but he did it unabashedly.    

“Damn fool,” Harry muttered, keeping one arm looped around the younger man’s back, but the chastisement seemed directed more at himself than Crane.

“Let’s not crowd him,” Jiggs said, still off-kilter. “I’ll try to raise Seaview from FS1.”

Harry nodded but his head stayed lowered, his attention on Crane. It was a strange sight to Jiggs - - the captain all but unconscious, bodily slumped against Harry, his eyes closed as he wheezed through the mask. Physically, there wasn’t a mark on him yet he appeared completely incapacitated. The only comfort he gleaned was attained by resting in Harry’s arms. Whatever reprieve the young commander felt came as a result of Harry’s presence more so than an influx of fresh oxygen.

Jiggs gave Harry’s arm a gruff pat and shoved to his feet. If something happened to Crane he wasn’t sure his friend would recover. He knew Harry sometimes foolishly thought of the younger man like a son - - hell, more than sometimes. Harriman had gone off the deep end with Crane, allowing that odd father/son relationship to reach a point that had them both wrapped up in emotional chains. Damn stupid move for a superior officer, but he wasn’t Harriman Nelson.

He’d already witnessed how Harry responded when Crane kept after him to do something, and he’d seen Crane glued to Harry’s rack when the older man was sick. The captain might be rigidly proper and arrogant with Jiggs, but he displayed open loyalty and affection with Harry. Amazing that Harry still remained solely “Admiral” or “Sir” to Lee Crane when it was obvious the barriers between them were few. He had to admire Crane for that. Whatever else he might feel for the older man, Crane would always defer to him with respect even when in a situation that didn’t require the dictates of rank. It was nearly impossible not to be affected by the bond they shared after observing the two of them together. And although he couldn’t put his finger on it, instinct told Jiggs that Crane’s baffling illness was somehow tied to Harry and his miraculous recovery.

Determined to raise Seaview, he shoved to his feet and bolted for FS1.

**********

Lee lifted his hand, making a feeble attempt to pull the oxygen mask aside.

“Just keep it there,” Nelson said, holding it firmly in place.

But it was easier to breathe now and Lee needed to explain. He shook his head and made another attempt until finally Nelson relented, switched off the oxygen and set the mask aside.

He eyed Lee critically. “Better?”

“Yes.” Lee was surprised to hear how weak his voice sounded. It was as if all the strength had bled from his body. His lungs felt on fire, scorched raw, his joints ached, and there was a sharp needle-like pain pressing against his temples. He knew he’d ingested something toxic when the coral disintegrated and wondered how long it would be until it proved fatal. Forcing himself to sit upright, he let his head fall back against the table leg and wearily closed his eyes. “It’s nice to have you here,” he murmured, realizing he hadn’t really wanted to die alone.

He felt Nelson’s touch against his cheek then the admiral’s hand dropped to his shoulder where it tightened in a squeeze. “I know why you came here, Lee.”

He was too tired to open his eyes . . . tried to ignore the waves of fire arcing deep into his abdomen. “To find a cure.” 

“No.” Nelson’s protest was immediate. “You came because you read the account of the seer and the explorer in my cabin.”

Stunned, Lee raised his head. “How did you >>>”

“You think after all these years, especially the last three, I don’t know how your mind works? You should have left well enough alone.”

Lee looked away, his stomach tight. “Not if there was a chance.” Everything was starting to feel distant, the influx of sound, muddy and hollow. He suppressed a shudder, tightening his hands into fists but it was difficult to feel his fingertips. His body was slowly growing numb, sensation dwindling, starting at his extremities. He wanted Nelson with him, but he didn’t want the admiral to watch him die. “You should leave.”

“You’re out of your head, lad.” Nelson made a vulgar sound. “You didn’t give up on me. What makes you think I’m going to give up on you? If you can swap your life for mine, I can swap mine for yours.” He stood abruptly, his expression fierce as he raked his gaze over the worktable. “I want what’s left of that damn coral.”

“Sir, no!” Lee shuddered, his whole body twitching with a spasm. He reached for the admiral, but his arm was too heavy, too numb. Strength gone, he toppled to the side, his body rag-doll limp and unresponsive.

Nelson was beside him in a heartbeat, bending to grip his arm. “Lee?”

He could feel light spooling into his head, taking awareness with it. Everything was fading, going black like the lowering of a curtain on a stage. All he wanted to do was roll into the darkness and sleep. It was no longer terrifying or strange but a haven that promised blissful rest and peace. 

Only Nelson wouldn’t be there. Or Alyssa or Chip. Or anyone else he loved and cared about. He tried to claw back even as he sank deeper, a groan slipping from his lips. Someone cupped his cheek and called his name. But he could barely feel or hear any longer.

“Admiral?” He tried to force the name past his lips, struggling to vocalize what was in his heart.

And then light exploded all around him, and he was caught up in a glittering whirlwind.

**********

The seer was old, his skin brown and weathered like crinkled parchment, his eyes a startling blue-green rimmed by a band of gray. He wore a short robe of homespun material, coarse and raisin-colored, belted at the waist with a piece of frayed rope. Harry found him sitting cross-legged beneath a sprawling apple tree, weaving a basket from dried bamboo. 

“So you found a sacrifice after all, young explorer,” the man hailed him. “Someone willing to take your place.”

Harry blinked, adjusting to the new tableau. It took him a moment to realize the seer was speaking to him, that he was standing on a tree-crowned knoll in the middle of nowhere. The last thing he remembered was bending over Lee as his friend slipped toward unconsciousness. He gave nothing away as he mentally took stock of his surroundings - - tall grass and blue sky, the warm kiss of sunlight on his face. Somewhere in the distance a bird called out to another, but it was an exotic sound, one he didn’t recognize. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or hallucinating, but neither mattered. He was only concerned with one reality.

“Where is Lee Crane?”

The seer mused silently, his nimble fingers working the wide straps of bamboo. “Does it matter? You have your health back . . . your life. You made a choice when you harvested the golden broom, despite warnings to leave it undisturbed. He made a choice when he offered his life in place of yours.”

“NO!” Harry’s outburst was vehement. Dream or not, he was not going to allow Lee to barter his life. “He had no right to make that choice. I won’t let him pay for my mistake.”

The seer’s fingers stopped their intricate dance over the bamboo. “Then you wish to reverse his decision?” He glanced at Harry speculatively as if measuring his intent. “You prefer to go back to a life crippled with illness, knowing it will lead to death? You would surrender your life in place of his?”

“Yes. Willingly. A thousand times over.” The words came fast and clipped. “Lee’s innocent. If there is a mistake here, it’s mine.”

The seer appeared perplexed. “But he has given you freedom . . . a chance to continue your explorations. Isn’t that what you value - - this science of yours?”

“No.” Harry shook his head in frustration, pressing his fingertips to his temples. Was he really standing in a limbo-world, holding a life-and-death discussion with a mythical figure about what mattered to him most? “Science is my passion, but it’s not my life. I would trade all the knowledge I have . . . all the discoveries I’ve made or will ever make if it would save Lee. Take what you want from me. I don’t care.” He stepped forward, propelled by a sense of urgency and the terrifying knowledge that Lee was dying. “Please. Can you save my friend?” 

The seer bowed his head. He was silent for a time, his fingers manipulating the bamboo with fluid ease. Harry waited, holding his breath. At last, the old man’s hands stilled.

“Icarus was a foolish boy,” he murmured. “I warned him not to fly too near the sun when I gave him the wings, but he was consumed with exhilaration. Freedom.” He shook his head sadly. “Glitter.”

Harry’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Daedalus?” he asked, stunned by what he heard.

The old man nodded. “Yes. I am Icarus’ father. I made the wings so together he and I could escape the prison of King Minos. I thought I was saving my son, but my creation ended up costing his life. As punishment, I have consigned myself to this limbo. All I have left to remember my son is the golden broom coral. For eons, I have guarded it jealously, secreting it away from the eyes of man. Those who disturb it must pay as I did - - with their own life or the life of someone they cherish.”

“But Lee is innocent!” Enraged, Harry fought to keep his hands from the seer’s neck. According to Greek mythology, Daedalus had been a craftsman of extraordinary talent, favored by King Minos until he helped an enemy of the king defeat the Minotaur. Minos had Daedalus exiled along with his son and imprisoned on Crete.

“Icarus was innocent too,” Daedalus said coldly. “I was the one who gave Ariadne the clew of string that helped Theseus defeat the Minotaur in the labyrinth. And still my son paid the cost.”

“Listen to me.” Desperate, Harry crouched at the old man’s side. “I hear the pain in your voice - - the pain of a father. It’s the same pain I feel now. Lee Crane may not be my son by blood or name, but I feel toward him the same as you do for Icarus. Why do you think he was so willing to sacrifice his life for me and me for him? If you condemn him to death, you’re every bit as guilty as Minos. Lee is just as innocent as Icarus. If it’s payment you want, I’ve already told you to take my life instead.”

Daedalus pondered, his eyes dark. Harry wasn’t sure if he was insulted or angry but didn’t care. He was running out of patience and time. His inner sense of urgency told him Lee’s life hung by a delicate thread, one that was a fraction shy of snapping.

“You have wisdom beyond your years, young explorer,” the old man said at last. “And you are as selfless as the man you wish to save. Most who hunt the coral have agendas of greed and fame.”

“Save Lee’s life,” Harry bartered. “Send me back to my submarine just long enough and I promise to destroy every sample of the coral, along with my notes. Afterward, I will willingly accept my fate.”

“The specimens you took have already been destroyed. When your captain touched the sample I planted in your sealab, an internal chain reaction made those specimens disintegrate as well. Your notes are also gibberish, due in part to your captain’s willing surrender. His choice has allowed me to exert control over all aspects related to the broom coral.”

Harry wet his lips, realizing he had little to offer. “You couldn’t save your son, Daedalus.” He stood, forcing the seer to lift his head to stare up at him. “Do the right thing and save mine. You’re here by choice. You could leave this limbo if you wanted to.”

“Yes. But there has been no one to inspire that desire.” The old man stood, surprisingly lithe despite his advanced years. For the first time, the hint of a smile touched his lips. “Until now.”

“Does that mean you’ll save Lee?”

“Yes. And I will also save you. For the first time, it is the explorer who has taught me. Go back to your world, young Nelson.” Daedalus laid a bony hand on his shoulder. “Find your captain - - your friend, your son, healthy and well. I realize now, it is my own remorse that has kept me from Icarus. I will join him where he is at rest.”

Harry experienced the first twinge of hope. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

“As you have mine. You and your captain have taught me there is still honor and loyalty among men.” He dropped his hand and stepped backward. “I give you back your life, Admiral Nelson, and that of your captain.” His form shimmered, growing fainter. “As you have given me mine.” 

A flash of light erupted from the sky, and Harry’s world dissolved in a dwindling canvas of white.

**********

The first sensation that registered in Harry’s mind was the compact hardness of the Leviathan’s deck beneath his hands and knees. The second was the sound of Lee Crane struggling back to coherency just a few feet away.

Prone on his back, the captain groaned, dragging one leg up, bent at the knee as he cupped a palm against his forehead.

“Lee!” Harry scrabbled to his side, helping him to sit upright. “Are you all right, lad?” Despite Daedalus’ promise, he couldn’t stop himself from gripping Lee’s chin and tilting his head back, measuring the clarity in the younger man’s eyes. It wasn’t that he doubted the seer, just that he wouldn’t breathe easily until he saw for himself Lee had passed the crisis mark. 

“Admiral?” Lee’s brows drew together. “I was dreaming. At least I think I was.” The color was back in his skin, the vibrancy in his eyes. He still looked rumpled, his shirt gaping open halfway down his chest, but he no longer appeared frail or confused. “You were talking to Daedalus . . . bargaining with your life.”

Harry palmed the side of his neck, craving the assurance of touch. He desperately needed to determine he wasn’t hallucinating . . . wasn’t trapped in another alternate reality or dream, and that Lee really was conscious and talking. 

Breathing an audible sigh of relief, he sat back on his haunches. “You  . . .saw all of that?” He’d been as candid in his feelings for Lee as he’d ever been in his life, but didn’t care. There were certain things he should have said a long time ago. Dropping his hand to Lee’s shoulder, he parted with a faint grin. “I didn’t do anything that you hadn’t already done before me. I still haven’t decided if I should be angry with you or eternally grateful. What you did was stupid, chancy and completely selfless. I’d ask you why you did something that idiotic, but …”

“…you already know the answer,” Lee finished for him. He grinned, his teeth a quicksilver flash of white. “I don’t pretend to understand what happened here, Admiral, but I do know your intervention saved my life.”

“As yours did mine.” Harry stood and extended his hand. “Care to put all of this behind you, Captain?”

 

“Just as quickly as possible.” Lee clasped his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. But something changed in that second when he went from nearly dying to healthy again. He’d no sooner gained his equilibrium than Harry tugged sharply, wrenching him off balance. 

Lee stumbled, unprepared when the admiral caught him in a tight embrace. 

“You ever do anything that stupid again, and I’ll use your hide for shark bait.” The words were gruff, but Nelson’s grip was hard, betraying just how truly shaken he was. Seconds passed and still he didn’t let go. “Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.”

Taken aback, Lee felt his breath catch in his throat. “Admiral…”

“Don’t.” Nelson released him, stepping away to rip a hand through his hair. “If you really were my son, I’d haul off and belt you for pulling such an asinine stunt. Hang your loyalty and chivalry, you almost died because of choices I made!” 

Pent-up adrenalin flowed from Lee like the surge of a bursting dam. Sagging backward, he folded against the worktable, gripping the edge behind him with both hands. “Sir, I…” And just that quickly he couldn’t breathe. He thought of everything he had, and everything he’d nearly thrown away. Delayed reaction kicked in, sending a string of tremors racing through his body. His gut lurched into his throat, ballooned by a sticky wave of nausea. He was suddenly one step shy of crashing.

Not because he’d almost died - - he’d been prepared to surrender his life without qualm - - but because Nelson had dodged the bullet. The man he thought of as a father . . . the man he’d almost lost to some ancient curse and primitive superstition had circumvented both. It took a second for that reality to sink in but when it did, Lee felt the axis of his world realign. 

Before he could utter a word, Nelson gripped him hard behind the neck. “Don’t do it again,” he ordered then abruptly released him. This time, something warm and affectionate gleamed in his gaze. “I know ONI might tell you differently, but you really aren’t a cat with nine lives to spare. Do we understand one another, Lee?”

“We do, Admiral.” Lee’s composure returned with Nelson’s teasing banter. He grinned faintly. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was go back to Seaview . . . to his crew and his sub, the world he knew and was comfortable navigating. A world that included Nelson. Today, tomorrow and in the future.

He was about to suggest they radio Seaview when Jiggs Starke burst through the docking hatch. 

“All right, I’ve got Seaview on standby with Jamieson and oxygen and…” He stopped abruptly, coming to a surprised halt several feet through the hatch as he registered Lee and Nelson standing side-by-side. Shock washed over his face, followed by incomprehension then finally confusion. “What happened here? I…” He stalked forward, seemingly uncertain if he should be angry, grateful or baffled. “Crane! Good God, man! Five minutes ago you were ready to go belly up. What the hell happened?”

Unable to suppress a smile, Lee exchanged a glance with Nelson. Rather than answer the question, he chose a tactic he knew was sure to rattle Starke. “It’s good to see you too, Admiral Starke.” 

Nelson laughed and clapped a hand on Starke’s shoulder before he could work up a suitable outburst. “I’ll tell you all about it back on Seaview,” he promised. “For now, I just want to pack us all into FS1 and get the hell out of here.” He shot a sideways glance to Lee and winked.

It told Lee that Nelson would give Starke an abridged version of the truth . . . enough to satisfy him but not enough to become entangled in the complicated relationship between admiral and captain. 

That - - and what they’d each been willing to sacrifice for the other - - was a secret that would remain solely between them.

**********

Three days later with Seaview safely back in Santa Barbara, Harry found himself rethinking the events of the preceding week. Once Lee had recovered and was able to assume command, he’d set the sub on a course for home. Both Harry and his captain had a fair share of creative explaining to do after Jiggs Starke’s urgent call from FS1 demanding Jamie be ready on standby with oxygen. Harry wasn’t sure anyone actually bought Lee’s vague explanation of an air filtration problem on the Leviathan as the reason Starke had mistakenly thought him unconscious - - especially given it checked out clean - - but no one challenged the story.

No one except Jamie, who insisted he undergo a physical - - which also checked out clean - - and Nicole Rook. She never said anything to Lee directly, but it was clear from the way she regarded both men she knew something more was involved. Given her understanding of the myth behind the golden broom and her ready acceptance of what amounted to the inexplicable destruction of their samples, Harry guessed she’d read between the lines.

For the benefit of her technicians and the others involved, Harry initially blamed the specimen containers he’d brought from the Institute on the bizarre breakdown of the golden broom samples. But it soon became apparent, after an exploratory dive, every trace of golden broom had been eradicated from the Razorback as well. All other coral types were undisturbed, ensuring the discovery of the ancient reef remained of immense value to the scientific community. For those involved on the dives, the mystery of the golden broom became exactly that - - an enigma no one was overly anxious to discuss. Given the coral wasn’t supposed to exist in the first place, no one was overly anxious to be labeled crazy for dwelling on its disappearance.

A knock on his office door drew Harry from his reflection. It was after 0600 and he’d already sent Angie home for the night. There was, however, one appointment he had yet to conduct.

“Come in,” he called, rising to stand behind his desk.

Nicole Rook stepped into the office with a faint smile. She was dressed smartly, but casually, in a soft coral blouse and dove gray slacks, her hair caught up in a becoming French braid. “It’s good to see you, Harry.”

“You too.” He motioned to a chair. “Sit down, please.” Rather than retreat behind his desk and place that barrier between them, he took the chair beside her. “I wanted to talk to you about the work still remaining in the Razorback.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I assumed the Institute would take that over.”

“Granted, but I’m going to need someone to oversee the whole process. It’s a sizeable investment of time for a lead scientist, anywhere from eight months to a year. As you know, it would involve long stretches at the Leviathan II and working here at the Institute. I’ve already spoken with your two technicians and both are interested in continuing. Of course, they’re concerned with who will be running the project on a day-to-day basis. Seaview makes that impossible for me.”

She tilted her head and grinned. “Are you offering me a job, Harry?” 

“Short term.” It made sense for all of them. She’d done the preliminary work on the coral beds, and she’d been privy to the strange circumstances surrounding the golden broom. He needed someone who thought outside of the box, could oversee the whole project, but still defer to him when necessary. Nicole fit the bill. “We can set you up with Institute housing for those periods when you’re not at the lab. The apartments aren’t exceptionally large - - two bedrooms with a living area, kitchen, dining and deck - - but they’re well-maintained and fully furnished. There is, however, one stipulation.”  

“Let me guess.” She looked at him squarely. “Lee Crane.”

No question she was sharp. Harry nodded. “I need to know you can work with him, Nicole. Lee is vital to Seaview, the Institute and to me personally. I can’t help remembering your initial reaction to him was less than favorable.”  

“I suppose I was pretty obvious.” She laughed and looked away, lowering her eyes. Force of habit made her move to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but the chestnut strands were already secure in her braid. She shook her head. “It’s hard to think badly of someone who acted as selflessly as Lee did on the Leviathan.”

Tempted to ask what she meant by that, Harry decided to remain silent. He’d already figured out she’d pieced together what had taken place on the sealab. He’d even noted the difference in her demeanor to Lee. “But you don’t think very highly of my captain, do you?” he prodded.

Her eyes flashed to his face and she hesitated, clearly deciding how much she wanted to share. “I knew Lee a long time ago when he was in love with my sister, Ginny,” she offered at last.

“Relationships end.”

“True, but nothing should have ended the way this one did.”

He looked at her pointedly, waiting her out. He didn’t want to pry into Lee’s past, but he also didn’t want an obstacle down the road if Nicole agreed to running the Razorback project. He’d already spoken to Lee about offering her the position and, while his captain had hesitated at first, he’d also been professional enough to admit she was the most qualified candidate for the job. All of that aside, if Nicole couldn’t work with Lee, Harry intended to look elsewhere.    

“There was a bad car accident,” Nicole explained. “Lee was driving. The other driver was clearly at fault, but my sister sustained a severe head injury. Afterward, she suffered violent mood swings . . . personality disorders. Nothing helped. Eventually, she agreed to undergo electroshock therapy.”

Harry balked. That was something he hadn’t expected. Not that long ago, he’d tried to get Lee to agree to the same treatment as a last ditch effort to save his life. At the time, an alien entity had twined itself around Lee’s Eustachian tube, cochlea and nasal passages, infringing further on his brain cavity. He’d suffered severe headaches, blackout spells and bleeding from the nose and ears. ECT was recommended by Seaview’s acting doctor at the time, Park Madison, with Jamie concurring via radio. When Harry had tried to reason with Lee about undergoing electroshock, his young captain would hear nothing of it. In the end Harry had resorted to blackmail but, thankfully, the treatment hadn’t been needed.

“Ginny changed after that,” Nicole continued, shifting uncomfortably. “She forgot a lot - - chunks of memory from the last several months of her life. Somewhere in there she forgot about Lee too, or at least how she’d felt about him. He tried to stay committed to her, I grant him that, but she just wasn’t the same person. The relationship fell apart.”

“You can’t blame Lee for that,” Harry protested. “You said yourself he wasn’t at fault for the accident, and he stayed faithful to your sister.”  

“I blame him for taking her out that night in the first place!” Angry, Nicole shoved to her feet and paced a short distance away, her back turned. Her spine was stiff with tension, her posture ramrod straight. “I told him not to go, that something horrible would happen to Ginny if he did. But he didn’t believe me. He said I was being foolish and overreacting.”

Harry had to admit he would have done the same. He’d never been one to put stock in premonitions. “Did you tell your sister not to go?” 

“No.” She drew a laboring breath. “I knew Ginny would just laugh at me and tell me to stop being silly.”

“Then you can’t blame Lee.”

“That isn’t all.” She turned to face him now, leaning back against his desk and gripping the edges until her knuckles grew white with the pressure. “He walked away from the relationship then came back three weeks later. He told her he still wanted to make it work. I guess he caught her in a vulnerable moment because she believed him.”

Harry stood. “If Lee said he wanted to make it work, he wanted to make it work.”

“You don’t understand what that single night did to my sister.” She looked away, unwilling to continue. Finally, she dragged a breath into her lungs, allowing herself to relax. “None of it matters now,” she said quietly. “It’s in the past, and I’ve vowed it’s going to stay there. However I might have felt about Lee before this mission is irrelevant. I know what he did for you, Harry.” She stepped away from the desk, moving closer. “It’s impossible to carry a grudge against someone who can be that selfless, regardless of his history with my sister. And I know what you must have done for him . . . how you must feel about him. No man could inspire that kind of loyalty if he was as self-centered as I once made him out to be. It’s obvious the two of you have a special bond.”

He grunted self-consciously and looked away. He didn’t want her examining his relationship with Lee too closely. There was already plenty of scuttlebutt about how he favored his young commander as he would a son. If she ended up a sub-contractor to N.I.M.R., she’d likely get an earful eventually. Even in military and scientific shops, gossip had a life of its own.

“So you’ll accept the position?” 

She smiled. “With pleasure.”

“Then welcome aboard.” Harry extended his hand, giving hers a firm shake. If he was honest, his reasons for wanting her to spearhead the project weren’t entirely professional. He hadn’t forgotten the spark between them before he’d taken sick and wasn’t entirely surprised to realize he felt it now. “Would you like to work out the details over dinner?” he asked, deciding to go for broke. 

She didn’t hesitate. “That sounds fantastic, but isn’t there some kind of rule about fraternizing with the boss?”

“Not when you’re the one who makes the rules.” Harry extended his hand again, this time catching her fingertips in a gentlemanly fashion. He inclined his head in the direction of the door. “Shall we?”

Her smile was positively dazzling. “I’d be delighted.”

**********

Lee took his time arriving at the question, but he eventually managed to get it said.

“So did Nicole accept your offer to oversee the Razorback project?” he asked conversationally, perching on the corner of Harry’s desk. 

Head bowed, Harry continued to scribble notes on the status report Lee had just handed him. “She did.” He didn’t look up, not entirely certain he was ready for the reaction he was likely to see in Lee’s expressive eyes. His captain might have agreed Nicole was the best candidate for the job, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was completely enamored of the notion.

Harry had slept on it, getting used to the idea. It wasn’t a hard adjustment, especially given how much he’d enjoyed his dinner with Nicole. She was every bit as stimulating and intelligent as he’d imagined, but away from the pressure of work, she was also lively and outgoing. He was more than a little bit taken with her and was beginning to understand how Lee must have felt when he’d first become involved with Alyssa. It was a strange territory to tread knowing her history with Lee. He didn’t want to make more of it than there was, but the person who mattered most to him was Lee Crane.

Lee waited. “Did she tell you about Ginny?”

Harry stopped what he was doing and looked up. He hadn’t seen that one coming. “Yes. But she said it’s all in the past.” He hedged, not sure how to address the change in Nicole. “What you did down on the Leviathan . . . when I was sick . . . it changed the way she thinks of you, Lee.”

The younger man nodded. “She’s been a lot more approachable since then. We won’t have a problem working together, Admiral. I was just curious if she mentioned Ginny.”

Harry sat back in his chair. He knew Lee . . . knew he was in love with Alyssa, but also knew he probably felt lingering remorse for the way he’d left things with Nicole’s sister. Seeing the marine biologist again had to have reawakened the pain of the way the relationship ended. “The accident wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that, Sir. I just didn’t want you to . . . think differently of me.”

He gave a soft snort. “Lad, after what you did for me, nothing could change how I think of you.”

Lee lowered his eyes, never comfortable discussing his feelings. On a normal day Harry wasn’t either, but a lot had changed over the last week. He didn’t want to dwell on it because he knew Lee didn’t want to. The younger man had done what he felt compelled to do and Harry had done the same when presented with the same choice. It hadn’t been a hard decision, trading his life for Lee’s, but he’d been the one in the wrong from the start. He’d initiated the whole catastrophic chain by harvesting the golden broom even after Nicole had warned him not to. Lee, on the other hand, had been innocent of the trespass yet still willing to surrender his life for Harry’s. 

As sobering as the thought was, he decided to lighten the mood. He didn’t want Lee remembering those grim moments in the Leviathan when he’d been unable to breathe and had felt his life slipping away. “At least you won’t have to worry about any unexpected guests on our next cruise,” he commented. “I think Jiggs Starke will be steering clear of Seaview for awhile. He called after he got back to COMSUBPAC and was still grumbling about what happened.”

“I’m just glad he didn’t challenge the explanation we gave the crew. Whether he believes it or not is another matter.”

“I’m not sure Jiggs even knows the answer to that. Which reminds me . . .” Harry stood and moved around the desk, giving Lee a friendly clap on the back. “I’m to tell you he and Lydia are expecting a dinner invitation in the near future.”

Lee balked. “Admiral Starke wants to have dinner with me?”

“Not exactly. He wants to have dinner with Alyssa. And me. I think he referred to you as ‘necessary baggage.’”

Lee pressed two fingertips to the middle of his forehead, stunting a headache. “I really do hate that man.” The oath was muttered, but there was no rancor in it, just resigned frustration - - the kind that kept life interesting between friendly enemies. 

Harry’s grin grew larger. He found it amusing his two closest friends were constantly at odds. Starke definitely knew how to push Lee’s buttons and vice-versa, but underneath the ongoing battle, he knew each man respected the other. 

“Don’t worry, lad.” Harry squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll arrange something at my place. Jiggs said it wouldn’t appear seemly for him to have dinner at the home of . . .” He chuckled. “And I quote - - ‘a mere captain.’”

Lee lowered his hand. “Can I bring a lynch mob with me?”

Harry laughed. “I’ll make him behave, Lee, I promise. And if I know Lydia, she will too. If he so much as looks at you sideways, she’ll be all over him. We both know you can’t do anything wrong in her eyes.”

Lee flushed. It was no secret Lydia Starke had taken a strong liking to him after he’d attended her annual Christmas party. “I’ll get through it, Sir.” He paused. “But what about Alyssa? Did he really think of her as a younger sister?”

“Yes. They were friendly but fought a lot - - like brothers and sisters will. Jiggs was overly protective of Ali, always thinking he knew what was best for her. He was vocal with his opinions, and she’s never handled that well.” He grinned. “As you know.”

Lee nodded. “That much hasn’t changed about her.” He drew a breath. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m sure she’ll enjoy seeing Admiral Starke again. Just give me a few days to prepare for it. Mentally.”

“Done.” Harry couldn’t help feeling a little giddy. Jiggs and Lee butting heads - - each grumbling about the other - - was exactly as it should be. It told him life was returning to normal after the traumatic events of the Razorback. His world was falling back into place, and there were new possibilities on the horizon. 

He rather liked the idea of having Nicole Rook around for the foreseeable future. After witnessing how committed Lee and Alyssa were to each other despite the obstacles they faced with divergent careers and a sizeable difference in age, it made him realize it was possible to have a dedicated relationship with someone. Finding the ‘right’ someone was the key. Whether or not that person might be Nicole he had no clue, but looked forward to the prospect of finding out just the same.

“What do you say we get out of here, Commander, and grab some lunch?”

Lee motioned to the papers still strewn over Harry’s desk. “But I thought you wanted to work through these status reports and plot the rotation schedule for the Leviathan?”

“That can wait. I have to eat too.”

Lee grinned and stood. “All right, Sir. Just let me get my jacket, and I’ll sign out a car from the motor pool.”

“Hang the motor pool. We’ll take your Cobra. Jiggs Starke has nothing on me.”

Lee’s smile was fast and blinding. “Trust me, Admiral. He doesn’t even come close.”

*****End*****

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