“What did you say?” She looks at him, suddenly confused, disturbed by a distant memory. “Wait—did I hand you a tank of oxygen?”

“Yes! It saved my life.”

“You really climbed out?” She sits down along the edge of the summit. Was the Navy lying? “Mick, you couldn’t have climbed out of the sub. We were underwater—”

“The chamber was pressurized. The minisub corked the inlet.”

She shakes her head. Stop it. He’s lying. This is nonsense!

“I bandaged your head. You were scared. You asked me to hold you before I left the sub. You made me promise to return.”

A vague memory swirls in her mind.

Mick sits down at the foot of the summit. “You still don’t believe a word I’m saying, do you?”

“I’m trying to remember.” She sits beside him. “Mick … I’m sorry I hit you.”

“I warned you not to let Iz investigate the Gulf.”

“I know.”

“I would never betray you. Never.”

“Mick, let’s say I believe you. What did you see when you left the minisub? Where did this turbine of yours lead?”

“I located some sort of drainage pipe and managed to climb up inside it. The passage led into this enormous chamber. The atmosphere inside was broiling. Red flames licked the walls.”

Mick stares at the stars. “High above my head swirled this … this magnificent emerald vortex of energy. It moved like a miniature spiral galaxy. It was so beautiful.”

“Mick—”

“Wait, there’s more. Spread out before me was a lake of molten energy, undulating like a sea of mercury, only its surface was as reflective as a mirror. And then I heard my father’s voice, speaking to me in the distance.”

“Your father?”

“Yes, only it wasn’t my father, it was some kind of alien life-form. I couldn’t see it—it was held within some kind of high-tech chamber, floating above the molten lake in an enormous pod. It looked at me through these blazing red, demonic eyes. I was scared shitless—”

Dominique exhales. There it is. Classic dementia. Christ, Foletta was right. It was there all the time and I just refused to see it. She watches as he stares off in the distance. “Mick, let’s talk about this. These images you saw, they’re quite symbolic, you know. Let’s start with your father’s voice—”

“Wait!” He turns to face her, his eyes wide, like black saucepans. “I just realized something. I know who the life-form was.”

“Go on.” She hears weariness in her own voice. “Who was it you think you saw?”

“It was Tezcatilpoca.”

“Who?”

“Tezcatilpoca. The evil deity I told you about on the boat. It’s an Aztec name that translates to ‘Smoking Mirror,’ a description for the deity’s weapon. According to Mesoamerican legend, the Smoking Mirror gave Tezcatilpoca the ability to see into the souls of men.”

“Yes, I remember.”