At the lowest level of the building, in a special vaultlike room that was sealed against the harsh environment and lined in rubber for protection against the sea, was the Heirthall treasure--at least a thousand tons of gold, silver, and crates of jewels, a few of which were broken open and spilling their contents across the ice floor. Golden weapons; Saracen swords; golden shields from the time of Christ, and suits of armor from the Crusades. As he studied the room's design, he knew it would possibly be an area capable of a last stand against the enemy lurking outside.
Farbeaux shook his head at the discovery of the treasure--wondering what its true value would be, not only in terms of what it would bring on the open market, but in the prestige of owning some of the artifacts arrayed on the shelves. Henri looked upon the richest treasure in the history of the world and smiled.
"Colonel, here they come!" Sarah shouted.
"Ah, nothing is ever easy," Farbeaux said, turning away from the find of a lifetime, and he made his way back up the carved staircase. "How many, little Sarah?"
"Uh, all of them, I think."
When he looked through the open doorway on the main level, the first awful scream of a sym sounded. Niles Compton scored the first blow for the defense by jabbing the long, spearlike pole into the right eye of the first creature that came at them.
"Yes, nothing is ever easy," he repeated as he came forward, spike at the ready.
Captain Heirthall took the handgrips of the two toggles. Without rudder control, she could only use the bow and tower planes. She knew it might be enough to cause
Heirthall removed a large pair of holographic glasses from their case and put them on. They resembled the visor of a pilot's flight helmet. She needed to utilize these because of the power loss to visuals. She flexed her fingers as the visor came to life.
"Ginny, if I pass out or die on you, take the right plane control and pull back to its stops. Ram
"Can ice sink this damn thing?"
"I don't think so, but we can tear her up enough to slow her down, possibly causing enough damage to make her stop the missile launch."
Alexandria took hold of the hand grips, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She pulled the right toggle control all the way back, at the same time pressing a small red button on the top, releasing control of the submarine from the command bridge. Her brainchild was once again hers.
Yeoman Alvera made her final calculation for launching the missiles. A straight, deadly red line ran straight toward the center of the surface of the Ross Sea.
"Acting chief?"
"Aye," said the sixteen-year-old girl standing between the helm seats.
"Make ready to adjust depth and course in three--" Alvera almost bit her tongue off as
"Down planes--down planes, engines to slow!" Alvera yelled as she wiped blood from her mouth.
"Planes are nonresponsive," the helmsman said loudly.
Tyler picked himself off the deck and then looked at the hologram with fear in his eyes.
"We are receiving conflicting impulses from the computer, we are being overridden!"
"Captain Heirthall!" Alvera said, looking directly at Tyler. "Engines all back. Helm control, make sure she cannot, I repeat, cannot gain rudder and ballast access! Sergeant Tyler, obviously the captain is not stranded at Ice Palace. May I suggest you start your search in auxiliary control?"
Tyler angrily turned away and went to communications.
Alvera turned and studied the hologram, for the first time becoming frightened herself.
"Sound the collision alarm," she shouted as
