ATLANTIS

Who is the spy?

“That's no theory back there,” Ariana said. 

Ingram rubbed his forehead. “The problem with developing an atomic laser has always been that you have to super-cool the atoms so they will act in a coherent manner by entering a collective quantum state.” 

“How would someone here in the middle of Cambodia be able to super-cool atoms?” Ariana asked. 

“I don’t know,” Ingram said. “There’s only two labs in the States that have the equipment to do it. And it’s not exactly transportable.” 

“What advantage does the atomic laser have over an optical one?” Ariana asked. 

Ingram shrugged. “I don't know exactly. The possibilities are limitless; from super-computing like I said, to who knows what.” 

“You think it's hooked in to Argus for a purpose?” 

“I'm sure it is,” Ingram said. “The way that beam is spreading through the computer's hardware is not random.” 

“Why?” 

“That's the key question along with who,” Ingram agreed. 

“Why would someone who had an atomic laser be wasting their time with Argus?” Ariana asked out loud. “For our data? But as you said we didn't even have a chance to gather much before we went down.” 

“Same problem our spy has,” Ingram noted. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I'm not too sure that this is about our survey. I think it's something else entirely.” 

“Like what?” 

“I--” 

“Don’t know,” Ariana finished for him. “Go through what we do have and try to get me some ideas.” 

“All right.” 

Ariana went forward to Hudson's commo area. “Anything?” 

Hudson looked tired. Between the stress and his injuries, he was wearing down. “Remember we picked up a transmission just before we crashed?” 

Ariana nodded. 

Hudson flipped a switch. “Here it is:” 

There was loud hiss of static, a voice coming in brokenly. “This . . . . Romeo . . . . Verify . . . Not. . Kansas . . . more. . . . Prairie. .. Repeat . . . Fire.” 

“It was low on the FM band,” Hudson said. “That part of the spectrum is usually reserved for the military.” 

“Any idea what it means?” 

“None. It's too broken to make much sense of.” 

“Anything else?” Ariana asked. 

“I've got my computer scanning the FM waveband. I think the radio is working, but we're not picking up anything. You'd think if there were search teams in the air they'd have zeroed in on our last reported location and they'd be broadcasting. We've been down over twenty hours now.” 

Hudson had raised a point that was weighing heavily on her mind. A chopper out of Phnom Penh could have reached their position in a couple of hours. She was sure her father knew the plane was down. The lack of any indication of a search party could mean any of several things, none of which were good. 

“All right. Keep monitoring,” Ariana said, then went back to the others in the main console area. 

“Any indication what caused us to crash?” she asked Ingram upon reentering the console area.