“I came to see if we can provide any assistance,” Miller said.

“We’re quite capable, Captain. Please maintain your current position—and radio silence.”

Miller motioned toward the screens. “So you’ve been looking for a sub.”

Emmerich said nothing.

“Is it American? Russian?”

“We believe it’s a vessel of… multi-national sponsorship.”

Miller squinted, wondering what that meant.

“Now, Captain, you really must excuse me. We have a lot of work to do. We’ll be launching the submersible soon.”

Miller nodded. “Understood. Good luck, Doctor.”

When the captain was gone, Emmerich instructed two of the younger researchers to stand by the door. “Nobody else gets in.”

At his computer terminal, Emmerich sent an encrypted email.

Have located wreck believed to be RSV Beagle. Commencing search. Coordinates and initial imagery attached.

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Emmerich and three other scientists sat in the submersible, making their way to the ocean floor.

On the other side of the world, the cargo ship Kentaro Maru was moving through the Indian Ocean just off the coast of Somalia.

In a conference room adjacent to the ship’s bridge, two men had been arguing all afternoon, their shouts causing the crew to wince periodically.

A bridge officer knocked on the door and waited nervously. They ignored him and continued yelling at each other.

He knocked again.

Silence.

He swallowed hard and pushed the door open.

A tall man named Conner McClain stood behind the long conference table. His angry expression made his badly scarred face look even more hideous. He spoke quickly, with an Australian accent, his volume just below a yell.

“For your sake, this better blow my mind, Lieutenant.”

“Sir, the Americans have found the Beagle.”

“How?”

“They’re using a new seafloor mapping tech—”

“Are they on a plane, submarine, or ship?”

“A ship. The Healy. It’s a US Coast Guard icebreaker. They’re launching a submersible though.”

“Do they know what’s on the Beagle yet?”

“We don’t know. We don’t think so.”

“Good. Sink the icebreaker.”

The other man in the conference room spoke for the first time. “Don’t do this, Conner.”

“We have no choice.”

“We do. This is an opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what?”

“To show the world what’s aboard the Beagle.”

Conner turned to the young officer. “You have your orders, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

When the door closed, Conner spoke quietly to the other man in the conference room. “We’re on the verge of the most important event in human history. We’re not going to let the barbarian hordes vote on it.”

Dr. Hans Emmerich held his breath when the submarine’s outer hatch opened.

Behind him, Dr. Peter Finch studied a laptop screen. “Clear. Seal’s good.”

“Radiation?” Emmerich asked.

“Negligible.”

Emmerich and the three scientists descended the ladder into the vessel. The LED lights from their suit helmets cast white beams through the dark tomb as they moved slowly through the cramped corridors, careful not to let anything catch on their suits. A tear could be deadly.