While I was showering and brushing my teeth, Nick Nicola had somehow managed to fill the clothing order he had taken from me to perfection, and everything fit perfectly. Comfort was my top priority, and I had opted for boxer shorts, loose-fitting khaki pants, a polo shirt—which happened to be light blue—and tennis shoes.
I had promised to tell him what had happened on the island before he arrived, and I did, although I gave him a highly abbreviated, bottom-line version, which took just a few minutes but got the gist across.
He then insisted on giving me a tour of the inner areas of the facility, which were impressive, although not nearly as impressive as the mostly residential view side had been. How could anything compare to that?
The base was enormous, including a military barracks and training center dug into the ocean shelf, underwater and underground. Everything was quite spacious and well laid out, with rooms connected by a large and convenient network of crisscrossing corridors, all wide, with ten-foot ceilings, making them the least claustrophobic hallways I had ever traversed.
Everything within the expansive facility, including the extensive corridor system, was sleek, brightly lit and modern—one might even say, futuristic—and decorated with plenty of flowers and plants. Several large atriums were dense with trees and flowers, making use of lighting that perfectly mimicked the sun, allowing the foliage to thrive indoors.
It was truly idyllic.
The captain also showed me a conference room that sported wall-to-wall monitors, which would be our final destination after touring, when he was ready to back up what he had told me with hard and compelling proof.
We ran into a number of others, all dressed casually and looking relaxed, but he didn’t bother introducing me to anyone, and we were left alone.
Nick explained that the base served a variety of functions, including offices for Sentinel senior management, a civilian recruitment and learning center, a school and training center for new military recruits, a vacation destination for those in need of R&R, labs where scientists perfected inventions based on Benefactor blueprints, and a small holding facility for occasional prisoners like the pair it currently held, Brad Schoenfeld and Tessa Barrett.
In addition, the base contained several recreational facilities to go along with its shops, offices, and labs. The large number of individual dwellings on the reef-facing north wall were mostly inhabited by those working in several large manufacturing facilities the Sentinels operated around the clock.
The base ran multiple zip-craft shuttles back and forth from these factories, shuttles much larger than the UFO I had been in, and invisible to radar and human eyes.
The Earth was a ball twenty-four thousand miles around, so a ship capable of traveling tens of thousands of miles an hour could navigate to any location on the globe in less than thirty minutes.
As long as you didn’t mind a joint commute from whatever facility you were working at, being able to live in spacious undersea apartments with majestic, unprecedented views did have its advantages.
“A remarkable facility,” I said as we entered a large cafeteria. “Even more remarkable that you’ve kept this, and your other assets, completely off the Federation’s radar.”
“It isn’t easy, I assure you,” said the captain as I took a quick look around the cafeteria and we exited.
“I’m sure it’s not,” I replied. “What about logistics?”
“Most of our food and supplies are brought here by zip-craft. We do own several ocean-going vessels, which occasionally pass this way and drop massive submersible containers filled with supplies overboard. They don’t even have to stop. I should mention that in addition to two cafeterias, we also stock several grocery stores here, for those who like to cook,” he added. “Everything is free, of course.”
“Of course,” I said with a wry smile. “How could it be any other way?”
We continued on to the western-most section of the facility, which served as its parking garage. The structure was about half the size of a soccer field, and resembled a colossal aircraft hangar, with six evenly spaced entryway doors running north to south, and gleaming white, marble-like floors. Dozens of zip-craft were parked throughout the hangar, along with eight or nine larger shuttle versions.
The far wall appeared to be open to the sea, but since it didn’t face the coral reef, only a smattering of marine creatures were framed by the opening.
Nick nodded in that direction. “A force field keeps the water out and the air in, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.”
“I get that,” I said. “But I don’t see any airlocks. And the floor isn’t wet anywhere. So how do you get your zip-craft in here?”
The captain grinned. “The propulsion systems the ships use keep water from ever touching them, even while they’re traveling through the ocean. As far as parking here, the ships just navigate their way inside. The force field allows them in while keeping everything else out—including water. If you’d like to know how that’s possible, I can’t help you. But I can get you with a scientist later on.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” I said.
“That’s about it for this part of the tour,” said the captain. “But before I share the evidence I’ve told you about, I’d love for you to see our main zip-craft factory. It’s bloody huge, mate. The sheer magnitude of the operation is going to blow you away.”
“I take it that this factory isn’t located under the sea.”
“No, it’s on the outskirts of the Amazon rainforest in Brazil. But we can be there in a jiffy.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” I said with a smile.
40