BOOK V: DARKNESS OF HEAVEN: CLONE ISLAND

Chapter_2_Mystery Of The Deep

Present Day...

An idyllic ocean scene featuring a medium-sized Latin cargo vessel navigating through the northern Atlantic islands is disrupted by fierce winds and lightning. Small mountain peaks jut out just above the ocean's surface, hinting at submerged land masses below.

Large, menacing waves push the ship almost sideways toward what seem to be cliffs, obscured by sheets of rain that intensify with every passing minute. "Oh, caramba. Grande caramba," exclaims the Latin captain as he struggles to steer the ship straight, desperately trying to avoid the increasingly looming cliffs ahead.

A sullen and desperate crew frantically attempts to secure gear and various equipment from falling overboard. Their faces reflect the loss of hope as they anticipate a watery fate.

___***___

Meanwhile back in the City of Areth, home of the Ghost R Us team, a tired Gibbins rises from a sophisticated array of computers, turning off all the lights as he prepares to leave. "What? Honeymoon over?" Maya jokes from outside the lab as she retrieves a sandwich from the fridge.

Gibbins appears both amused and annoyed as he passes by her. "I want a divorce," states S.P.I.R.I.T, the A.I., while her physical body, the motorcycle, undergoes maintenance; her voice module speaks through a computer console.

In fact, S.P.I.R.I.T serves as the control master of the Ghost R Us facility, while Gibbins is in the process of creating a module for Azrael's Motorcycle.

"Granted," Gibbins shoots back. "Very well then. You get the kids, and I get the bike," S.P.I.R.I.T quips.

"Oh no, that's not fair. I get the vehicles, and you get Azrael and Maya," Gibbins retorts.

"No, I keep Maya. Azrael is like a wrecking ball wherever he goes, not to mention the insurance policy we have on him," S.P.I.R.I.T argues back.

"Like I could afford him anyway. Now you're really complicating matters," Gibbins replies.

"How so?" S.P.I.R.I.T inquires. "For instance you should see the grocery bill," Gibbins laughs.

"Spare me the exaggeration, please," S.P.I.R.I.T says, almost laughing out loud.

The radio crackles, and Azrael interjects a rebuke over the intercom. "Okay, you two, I heard that. Oh, Gibbins, stop breaking the eighth commandment. Let me remind you, my dear brother, speak no evil of one another; he who speaks selfishly of his brother judges his brother and speaks ill of Aravat's Torah, and judges His Torah. But if you judge the Torah, you are not a doer of His Word, but a judge."

Gibbins looks surprisingly confused, then darts a look at Maya who waves with a smile, holding an active radio receiver, and then shrugs. Gibbins looks somewhat annoyed and points. "Keep that thing off, Benedict Arnold," he laughs.

Maya looks amused, she puts the radio receiver down and walks off consuming her sandwich. "Back to work," she quietly states as she sits at the mainframe.

"By the way, any readings yet? Paranormal activity, unusual events? The like?" Gibbins muses as he walks to the main hub. "You mean besides Azrael?" S.P.I.R.I.T quips.

Gibbins cocks his head to one side and mentions, "Well, he's probably out eating lunch. Does that count?" he quips.

"I'll check 911 directories for any emergencies," S.P.I.R.I.T responds, trying to make a joke.

"Nah. I'm sure it's too late already," Gibbins laughs.

___***___

Somewhere in a secret base in the northwestern region, icy corridors later in the late afternoon, a few rough-looking men are carrying a slew of body bags through a long, cut-out tunnel passage through the cliffs. Several lean and cold-looking military-type scientists look on as the body count adds up.