Read Online Deep Storm by Lincoln Child - Free Book Online
Authors: Lincoln Child
Tags: Fiction, General, thriller, Suspense, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Atlantis, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Espionage, Body, Mind & Spirit, Mystery And Suspense Fiction, Technological, Atlantis (Legendary place), Lost continents, Geographical myths, Fiction - Espionage, Mythical Civilizations
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confirm that.
No, sir, Easton said.
Asher looked at him sharply. What do you mean, no?
Ive already checked the radioactive isotopes. Theres hardly any decay. Hardly any at all.
Asher said simply, Impossible.
Ive spent the last four hours in Radiography. I ran the tests three times. Here are the results. And Easton removed a DVD from his lab coat pocket and laid it on Ashers worktable.
Asher stared at it but did not touch it. So all our conclusions were wrong. The burial event is much more recent than we expected. Have you got a new date, based on the tests?
Just a rough one, sir, for now.
And that is?
Approximately six hundred years ago.
Very slowly, Asher leaned back in his chair. Six hundred years.
Once again, the tiny office fell into silence.
You need to requisition one of the rovers, Asher said at last. Have it fitted with an electron-phasing magnetometer, do several passes over the burial site. Youll take care of that?
Yes, Dr. Asher.
Very good.
Asher watched as the young geologist stood up, nodded, made for the door.
And, Paul? he said quietly.
The man turned back.
Do it right away, please. And dont tell anyone. Not a soul.
Chapter 9
Crane looked up from the digital clipboard that hed been scribbling notes on with a plastic stylus. And thats it? Just some pain in the legs?
The man in the hospital bed nodded. Even beneath the sheet it was clear he was tall and well built. He had good color, and his eyes were clear.
On a scale of one to ten, how severe is the pain?
The man thought a moment. Depends. Id say around six. Sometimes a little more.
Nonfebrile myalgia, Crane jotted on the clipboard. It seemed impossible no, it was impossible this man had suffered a ministroke two days ago. He was too young, and, besides, none of the tests indicated one had occurred. There were only the initial complaints: partial paralysis, slurred speech.
Thank you, Crane said, shutting the metal clipboard. Ill let you know if I have any more questions. And he stepped back from the bed.
Although termed a suite, the medical facility of the Deep Storm station boasted equipment that a moderate-sized hospital might envy. In addition to the ER, surgical bays, and two dozen patient rooms, there were numerous breakout areas for specialties from radiography to cardiology. There was a separate complex in which the staff had working areas and conference rooms. It was here that Crane had been given a small but well-equipped office with an attached lab.
Of all the recent complaints Dr. Bishop had described, only three had been severe enough to warrant hospitalization. Crane had already interviewed two of the patients a forty-two-year-old man suffering from nausea and diarrhea, and this supposed stroke victim and the fact was, neither really needed to be hospitalized. No doubt Dr. Bishop was just keeping them under observation.
Crane turned and nodded to Bishop, who was standing well back.
Theres no indication of TIA, he said as they stepped into the corridor.
Except for the initial presentation.
You witnessed it yourself, you said?
I did. And the man was clearly having a transient ischemic attack.
Crane hesitated. Bishop had said little during his examination of the two patients, but the hostility had been just below the surface. She wouldnt like having her diagnosis called into question.
There are numerous syndromes that can present in similar fashion he began as diplomatically as possible.
I did my internship in a vascular care unit. Ive seen more than my share of patients stroke out. I know a TIA when I see one.
Crane sighed. Her defensiveness was starting to wear on him. True, nobody liked an interloper, and perhaps thats what he seemed. But the fact was the medical team here had only done superficial tests, treating each case as a separate event. He was convinced that if
No, sir, Easton said.
Asher looked at him sharply. What do you mean, no?
Ive already checked the radioactive isotopes. Theres hardly any decay. Hardly any at all.
Asher said simply, Impossible.
Ive spent the last four hours in Radiography. I ran the tests three times. Here are the results. And Easton removed a DVD from his lab coat pocket and laid it on Ashers worktable.
Asher stared at it but did not touch it. So all our conclusions were wrong. The burial event is much more recent than we expected. Have you got a new date, based on the tests?
Just a rough one, sir, for now.
And that is?
Approximately six hundred years ago.
Very slowly, Asher leaned back in his chair. Six hundred years.
Once again, the tiny office fell into silence.
You need to requisition one of the rovers, Asher said at last. Have it fitted with an electron-phasing magnetometer, do several passes over the burial site. Youll take care of that?
Yes, Dr. Asher.
Very good.
Asher watched as the young geologist stood up, nodded, made for the door.
And, Paul? he said quietly.
The man turned back.
Do it right away, please. And dont tell anyone. Not a soul.
Chapter 9
Crane looked up from the digital clipboard that hed been scribbling notes on with a plastic stylus. And thats it? Just some pain in the legs?
The man in the hospital bed nodded. Even beneath the sheet it was clear he was tall and well built. He had good color, and his eyes were clear.
On a scale of one to ten, how severe is the pain?
The man thought a moment. Depends. Id say around six. Sometimes a little more.
Nonfebrile myalgia, Crane jotted on the clipboard. It seemed impossible no, it was impossible this man had suffered a ministroke two days ago. He was too young, and, besides, none of the tests indicated one had occurred. There were only the initial complaints: partial paralysis, slurred speech.
Thank you, Crane said, shutting the metal clipboard. Ill let you know if I have any more questions. And he stepped back from the bed.
Although termed a suite, the medical facility of the Deep Storm station boasted equipment that a moderate-sized hospital might envy. In addition to the ER, surgical bays, and two dozen patient rooms, there were numerous breakout areas for specialties from radiography to cardiology. There was a separate complex in which the staff had working areas and conference rooms. It was here that Crane had been given a small but well-equipped office with an attached lab.
Of all the recent complaints Dr. Bishop had described, only three had been severe enough to warrant hospitalization. Crane had already interviewed two of the patients a forty-two-year-old man suffering from nausea and diarrhea, and this supposed stroke victim and the fact was, neither really needed to be hospitalized. No doubt Dr. Bishop was just keeping them under observation.
Crane turned and nodded to Bishop, who was standing well back.
Theres no indication of TIA, he said as they stepped into the corridor.
Except for the initial presentation.
You witnessed it yourself, you said?
I did. And the man was clearly having a transient ischemic attack.
Crane hesitated. Bishop had said little during his examination of the two patients, but the hostility had been just below the surface. She wouldnt like having her diagnosis called into question.
There are numerous syndromes that can present in similar fashion he began as diplomatically as possible.
I did my internship in a vascular care unit. Ive seen more than my share of patients stroke out. I know a TIA when I see one.
Crane sighed. Her defensiveness was starting to wear on him. True, nobody liked an interloper, and perhaps thats what he seemed. But the fact was the medical team here had only done superficial tests, treating each case as a separate event. He was convinced that if
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