AN: You may (or may) not be wondering where are all the characters such as Hitchcock and so on, and why doesn't Lucas or Darwin have more "screen" time. They will, they will. I promise. Especially, Lucas. :c)

Mariel3: Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Here's the next installment. :cD

Laurie Beth: You're welcome- hope you had a great birthday.

Lynnp: Ah, thanks. The Brody/Krieg scene was one of those I wasn't sure if I wrote it properly. Thanks for letting me know I did.

Once again, thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Please keep the comments coming. Ideas are welcome, too. Lol Just drop me a line!

Credits: Science material and quotes from Fred Vine, School of Environmental Sciences; and National Geographic.

Chapter 4: Post Haste

"Wouldst thou," so the helmsman answered, "know the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers, comprehend its mystery". -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

If there was one thing Kristopher had little tolerance for it was having to stop his work every few minutes to explain something that should be obvious...or would be to a trained personnel. Dr. Smith, for an inexplicable reason, was determined to assist in an area outside of her expertise. She was not helpful in the least and was actually slowing them- specifically him- down. He had stopped feigning patience long ago and had taken to simply ignoring her. Little good it did. One thing Kristopher noted with chafe was that the doctor was terribly persistent.

Oshodi glanced up from his station and cast a curious look at the two seaQuest members, but let it go- there was just too much work to be done to worry about the source of contention between the doctors. At that moment, a pale blue light on his console lit up. As he read the incoming information, his demeanor lightened considerably.

"It would appear that the electrical disturbance has died down a bit," he reported as he passed the detachable data pad to Kristopher. "Our teams are finally able to obtain more concise readings."

As Kristopher's dark eyes scanned the readout, a scowl formed on his features. "They," he said, referring to the scientists who had formed the report, "are chalking this up to nothing more than magnetic field anomaly?"

"They are," Oshodi said pointedly, folding his arms across his chest. His well-favored face twisted into a frown the rivaled Westphalen's. "Supposedly the changes are due to secular changes, or solar diurnal changes," his words were sharp and sarcasm-laced, "Or lunar diurnal changes. But the overwhelming consensus, and you must give them points for originality, is that the changes are from an intense magnetic storm." He snorted derisively. "There's more to it- it cannot be that simple."

Dr. Smith, genuinely interested and inquisitive, pressed closer to the men. "What exactly is magnetic field anomaly?"

Westphalen shot a look at her intended to communicate his disfavor of her leaning against him. Litigiously, he explicated for her. " 'High-resolution images of the geomagnetic field taken in 2000 by the Oersted satellite, combined with similar images taken in 1980 by the Magsat satellite identified patches of reversed magnetic flux concentrated beneath the southern tip of Africa and in the north polar region. Growth and poleward migration of the reversed-flux patches account for almost all of the decrease in the dipole field in the past 150 years. The geological record shows that the magnetic field intensity has oscillated in the past without actually reversing its polarity. But the rapidly evolving reversed-flux patches suggests that an attempt at reversal may be underway...and can explain why dipole polarity reversals, once initiated, can happen over only a few thousand years.'

"Kristopher-" Oshodi shot the cantankerous doctor an amused look that was meant to be a reprimand for the doctor who frequently went out of his way to be difficult. He offered Wendy an apologetic smile. "While what Kris says is true," he said. "It has little to do with what we're looking at." He didn't have to look to know that the other man was glaring fractiously at him. A small smile played on his lips. "The magnetic field anomalies in question are anomalies in the intensity of the Earth's magnetic field observed at a number of widely separated points on the crest of the world-encircling mid—ocean ridge system. They are shown to be explicable in terms of reversals of the Earth's magnetic hold and constant rates of sea-floor spreading. The volcanic rocks which make up the sea floor have magnetization because, as they cool, magnetic minerals within the rock align to the Earth's magnetic field. The intensity of the magnetic field they measured was very different from the intensity they had calculated. Thus, the scientists detected magnetic anomalies, or differences in the magnetic field from place to place. They found positive and negative magnetic anomalies. Positive magnetic anomalies are places where the magnetic field is stronger than expected. Positive magnetic anomalies are induced when the rock cools and solidifies with the Earth's north magnetic pole in the northern geographic hemisphere. The Earth's magnetic field is enhanced by the magnetic field of the rock. Negative magnetic anomalies are magnetic anomalies that are weaker than expected. Negative magnetic anomalies are induced when the rock cools and solidifies with the Earth's north magnetic pole in the southern geographic hemisphere. The resultant magnetic field is less than expected because the Earth's magnetic field is reduced by the magnetic field of the rock.'"

Before Smith ask any more questions, Kristopher, more than a little indignant over once again having to stop and explain, abruptly injected, "We can't overlook the tremors that preceded the disturbance. There were no reports of any abnormalities until after the shockwaves."

"Yes, I know. This," Oshodi stood at this point and walked over to the console in the center of the laboratory. After a moment of tapping in commands, a seismic map appeared over the console. "Was sent over from the French Polynesian Seismic Research Station. And this," a few more taps on the keyboard zoomed in and encompassed an area of the map in green. "Is where they've pinpointed the source of the tremors."

Kristopher rose from his seat with a mix of perplexity and curiosity on his countenance. He spent some time studying this small fraction of map. Finally, he stepped back and muttered under his breath, "It doesn't make any sense."

To Wendy, it appeared as though the source of tremors was from the tiny hilighted island just off the coast of Moorea. She pursed her lips together in a tight line, wondering what it was that was so baffling- her untrained eye must simply be misreading the map.

It seemed as though she was only half-wrong.

"It doesn't make any sense," Westphalen said again, this time directing the comment to Oshodi.

The Nigerian's frown increased as he locked gazes with the other man. A barely perceptible nod confirmed whatever it was Kristopher was thinking.

"But from beneath-?"

Oshodi's frown flattened out into a line. He said nothing; his gaze never broke with Westphalen's.

"If that's true," Westphalen turned sharply on his heel and scurried back to his desk. "Then these readings aren't quite as ambiguous as we originally thought!"

Reviewing the data over Kristopher's shoulder, Oshodi's frown returned. "I don't follow."

"We've been looking at this all wrong," he explained. "We've been assuming that what's out there is organic..." His voice trailed off, a knowing look telling Oshodi the rest.

The doctor remained baffled for a few seconds, before realization dawned in his eyes. "Yes, of course. That certainly would explain a few things."

Kristopher replaced the data pad on the console and stood again. "I need to talk with Manua Tehu- does he still live in Maharepa?"

"Yes, but-" Oshodi's gaze flitted over to Dr. Smith. "He's currently doing research sous l'île."

"Ah," Kristopher nodded picking up on the encrypted message. "Let's give him a ring and see how quickly he can begin doing research here."

The men abruptly left post haste without so much as a word. Wendy, feeling a premonition, snuck a glance at the research the scientist had been analyzing. But try as she might, she could not see any connection between the seismic map and the magnetometer data.

"Whatever happened to you retiring?" Bridger absently swivelled his chair from side to side while speaking to Bill Noyce over the secure vid-link in a private chamber of the research station. "I thought after your stint as Secretary General, that was it."

"That what I thought, too." Noyce exhaled forcibly, sounding graveled. "But when Adam Corbin asks you to consider remaining with the UEO as acting military liaison between the seaQuest and HQ, declining is not an option."

Bridger rolled his eyes skyward. "Since when does seaQuest need a liaison to the UEO?"

"Since Corbin decided he didn't want to be bothered with the job," the Admiral harrumphed. "He's basically washed his hands of seaQuest... except when she's of some use to him."

The statement was left to hang over the wires as Noyce fell silent, clearly grappling with something. Bridger felt a chilling foreboding settle in his bones- he suspected that his old friend had bad news to deliver.

"What is it, Bill?" he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Just tell me- don't beat around the bush."

"As much as I hate to tell you, Nathan," Noyce looked truly rueful. " Corbin's decided that seaQuest is of some use to him at the moment."

Confining the curses that sprang up to his own mind, Bridger said aloud, "Meaning what exactly?"

"Apparently, there are some buyers interested in the blueprints of the Barracuda and while they were duly impressed by the footage of the Barracuda in action, they want the actual prototype as part of the deal."

Ire flashed in Bridger's eyes. "What buyers? I thought the Barracuda was classified a top secret military weapon for the UEO in case of war with SEACOR."

"Apparently, Corbin saw fit to declassify her to the highest bidder."

"Great," Bridger drawled sarcastically. "So if war starts we'll be fighting our own ships. That's perfect, Barracuda against Barracuda. Let's hope they at least change the color of the blasted thing or good luck trying to figure out who's on our side!"

"Nathan, we don't know that the buyers are anti-UEO; they could be within our alliance," Noyce's thin attempt at hiding his shared suspicions were not veiled behind the diplomatic tone of his voice. "And let's pray that it never comes to war."

Bridger nodded emphatically. After a beat, he growled contemptuously.

Noyce unclasped his hands briefly to raise them in helpless gesture. "At any rate, the seaQuest's order are to retrieve the Barracuda within eight hours. At all costs."

Bridger stood brusquely and began to pace the floor. "And by all costs means sacrificing my first officer to satisfy Corbin's lust for money."

"Nathan," The admiral glanced over his shoulder, suddenly worried that someone might overhear what could be taken as traitorous words. "Let's hope that it doesn't turn out to mean that."

The captian turned sharply to face Noyce again. "Does Corbin know that this thing is in pieces? It's nothing more than a worthless collection of metal and junk parts."

"Doesn't matter," the admiral assured him. "As long as the pieces are there- that's all that counts. Apparently, the buyers never stipulated that the prototype had to be in working order." Noyce sat back as Bridger fell silent.

After a long pause, Bridger finally acquiesced. "We've retrieved most of the wreckage- we're still searching for the escape pod and one of the engines."

"Well, perhaps that pod will turn up Jonathan as well," Noyce gave his friend a tight smile. "I'm sorry, Nathan, but you have your orders."

Bridger took his seat once more, staring at the vidlink screen long after it had gone black.

Dr. Smith tired to keep of the appearance of interest as an eager young student explained his theories on what was occurring in the South Pacific's version of the "Devil's Triangle". Though she was keen on the paranormal and it's mysteries, even Smith found the farfetched, supernatural theories about a region lacking the history of the Bermuda Triangle hard to digest- especially since the two areas weren't even in the same oceans. She nodded and smiled at the appropriate times during the young man's diatribe as she struggled to quell the impatience that was building. She was anxious to see if Westphalen and Oshodi had made any more progress. At the close of the students' discourse, the doctor was about to extract herself from the conversation, when a harried man swept by them. Clad in the jumpsuit of a scientist, a uniform that had the sleeves ripped out to showcase the traditional Tahitian tattoo that adorned his arm, the man turned mid-run to wave an apology for nearly knocking them over. The student recognized the dark haired, brown skinned man right away.

"Dr. Tehu!" the student cried out, awestricken.

The man turned and Wendy was surprised at how very young he seemed. It was impossible for him to be more than twenty-five. This couldn't be the same Tehu that Westphalen had wanted to speak with- he was far too young! Quickly, Wendy chastised herself for such a prejudice. If Lucas at sixteen could invent a program that allowed dolphins to talk- why couldn't this man be a younger than average doctor. Tehu flashed the youth a dazzling grin. "Marc, my man!" He slowed to a stop and slapped the boy a high five. "Howzit?"

"Great!" sputtered the youth. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon!"

"Neither did I."

His eyes caught Wendy's curious look and he flashed that smile at her. As he introduced himself, his gaze fell on the patches of her uniform. An inquisitive expression replaced the jovial attitude. "You're from seaQuest?"

Smith nodded. "Yes. Chief Medical Officer, actually."

"Ah," his umber eyes lit up again. "Then you must be a friend of Kris's!"

Well, Wendy thought, I wouldn't go that far.

Before she could answer Tehu went on. "Could you tell me where he is? I'm supposed to meet with him and Dr. Oshodi and I'm running late, I afraid."

Once again her response was disrupted. Student Marc jumped in with, "I know where they are!" He took Tehu by the arm and led him off down the hall. Wendy watched him go with a shake of her head- she could hear Marc offering the doctor his theories on the mystery in the water.

Profoundly depressed about the new orders and irate with Corbin's prerogative, Bridger took a moment to collect himself before rapping on the closed door. When he finally did, Dr. Oshodi's gentle voice beckoned him to enter.

Three men sat at the center table pouring over the notes in front of them. Kristopher sat back as the captain approached and Bridger managed to muster a small smile as he caught a glimpse of the white shirt that peaked out from Westphalen's partially unzipped jumpsuit. The shirt boasted: Doesn't Play Well With Others. It was certainly not standard issue UEO apparel.

"Tell me some good news," he adjured them as he took a seat across from Dr. Oshodi.

"Captain, this is Dr. Manua Tehu," Oshodi began, gesturing to the younger man on his left. "He's a regional specialist for the area." The doctor glanced from Bridger to Kristopher and back again. "I'm afraid the news isn't much."

Bridger repressed a sigh. "What have you got?"

"Well," Tehu spoke up. "We thought we had discovered a possible origin for the tremors, but," he spread his hands apart, palms up, in a sign of surrender. "We were wrong. However, we're still looking into a possible magnetic storm stirred up by the seaquake that had disrupted the magnetic fields." At this point, Tehu gave the floor to Kristopher.

Westphalen inhaled deeply before beginning. "Further study will be delayed indefinitely, I'm afraid. The disturbance has flared again anddisrupted most of the instruments we rely on," he shrugged morosely. "We're basically dead in the water until the disturbance dies down and we can get the equipment working again."

"Great," Bridger didn't bother hiding his displeasure. "I asked for good news, Kris."

Westphalen gave him a small smirk. "I must not have been listening when you said that." Then in all seriousness, the doctor leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. "I'm afraid the bad news, doesn't end there, Nathan. I received word from Lieutenant Hitchcock while you were in conference- their equipment has gone haywire as well. The other teams reported the same occurrences shortly after."

Bridger lifted a hand to his temple and held it there. He made a mental note to ask Lucas to check into things. "I received Corbin's orders from Admiral Noyce- we have eight hours to recover the Barracuda. All effort is to be diverted into the retrieval."

Kristopher sat back and folded his arms across his stomach, watching Bridger carefully. "So," he said slowly. "Is all effort going to be diverted into finding the Barracuda."

"Not until absolutely necessary," he said, not needing to think about it. "Until then our MO is still to find Jonathan."

Wendy was on her way back to the main laboratory when she intercepted Kristopher on his way to a private lab in the back of the research station.

"Dr. Westphalen?" she called after him.

Kristopher continued on, feigning not to hear her, when his earlier reprimand to Lucas for doing the same thing made him stop. The muscles of his jaw tightened as he bit back a growl. He waited impatiently for her to catch up to him.

"What is it, Dr. Smith?"

"I wondering what the outcome of your meeting with Dr. Tehu was?"

Kristopher's brow raise slightly in mild amusement. Abruptly, he resumed his previous course. "Why do you care?"

Smith did not let him get away. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked, trying to keep the offense out of her voice.

"Forgive me, Doctor," he said, not a bit apologetic. "But I find it hard to understand your interest in all this. I would think you'd be out there with the others looking for the Commander."

She shot him an affronted look at the implication of his words. "You think I don't care enough to be out there looking for Jonathan?"

"Did I say that?" he snapped back in a growl, picking up his pace. "I did not nor did I think it." The last comment was a unmasked jab at Smith's other specialization. "What I meant was I can't understand why you're so keen on being involved in something so over your head."

So that was it; he didn't think she had any worth as scientist. Wendy had long suspected this to be the root of his provocation with her. "I am more than capable of understanding, Doctor," she retorted defensively, matching him stride for stride. "I-"

"This has nothing to do with being able to understand." Westphalen stopped to face the woman whose face was flushed with indignation. "It has to do with not being trained in this particular field. You're a fine enough doctor, but a being a doctor and a scientist are not the same thing."

"They can be!" It was a weak comback and childish as well and Wendy was embarrassed she had let the words come out.

"Oh?" Kristopher smirked in a such a way that it incensed her even more. "Are you then? Tell me what your degrees are so I'll know how to properly apologize. No, no, wait let me guess- geophysical oceanography? No? How about physical then? Chemical? Marine biology?" As he watched her become more and more flustered, the smirk grew. "Still nothing, huh? I didn't think so."

She made no effort to retort as she was beside herself with indignation. But when Westphalen started to walk away, she could not let him get away so easily. "You may not respect me as a scientist, Doctor," she caught up with him and wedged herself between him and the last door before the lab entrance. "But you have to respect me as a colleague. Like it or not I'm involved in both science and medical divisions."

"No, doctor," he said, throwing the word back at her. "You're confusing yourself with another doctor who was. You're the head of Medical. The science department is mine."

He shouldered past her and pushed through the automated doors that opened slowly and closed equally slow. She did not go after him, but remained in place, still fuming.

"What a jerk," she muttered to herself, wondering why she ever wanted to get to know him in the first place.

"What was that, doctor?" Wendy started at the sound of Westphalen's voice. She was not aware that she had spoken so loud or that he had been close enough to hear her.

"Why don't you tell me that to my face?"

Wendy stared at him, uncertain what to do. She was intimidated him, no doubt, but livid as well. Kristopher tapped his watch insolently indicating the seconds that were ticking away. Finally, she could stand his taunting no longer.

"You're a jerk!"

He was not insulted as he should have been. His smirk took on a distinct look of respect and... admiration perhaps. "There," he replied. "Feel better?"

Two teams of disheartened officers congregated on the beach. The third team, Hitchcock's, was still out patrolling the shore despite having nothing to aid them. It was too much for the Lieutenant Commander to linger idly by while her comrade was out there still. After depositing her team with the others, and with permission from Bridger, took off on her own. Her teammates, however, found themselves equally unable to remain put, and opted to join her. Only Lucas remained behind as his skills were needed at the station.

The static charge in the area surrounding them had only increased in the past hour. Bridger stood in the midst of his crew, discomfited and reserved. He absently watched his officers, still very much divided, work in vain on equipment that could not be repaired until the magnetic storm died down.

The downside of technology, Bridger thought. All nature has to do is flick her wrist and we're stuck.

The sound of trudging footsteps behind him caused him to look up. Bridger saw the saturnine grimace of seaQuest's resident wiz kid and sighed. Judging by the look on his face more bad news was coming.

"What's the prognosis?" he asked grim-faced youth.

Lucas shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "There's nothing I can do right now. The magnetic interference is too great. The only option is-" he wrinkled his nose briefly, staring off at something on the horizon. "To move everything inland." His attention seemed to wander as his words fell off.

"But-?" Bridger had to prod him to finish his sentence.

"But," he said a moment later. "We'd be too far to away to use the instruments to look for the Commander."

"So we just have to wait."

"I guess," he shrugged, dissatisfied and despondent.

They stood in silence for several heavy minutes. Bridger sensed that something beyond irreparable equipment and a missing friend was troubling the boy.

"What's wrong?"

Lucas's gaze didn't budge from the horizon. "Everything," he said quietly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He shrugged again. A stubborn depression settled into his features. "What's the point? It won't change anything."

"Maybe not," the captain paused a beat. "But it might change the look on your face. Which, by the way, isn't doing much for morale."

Lucas huffed long bangs out of his face. His mouth tried unsuccessfully to twist into a smile.

"I just... I wish-" He looked annoyed with himself as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "Look, I know I was wrong to say it to Dr. Smith's face, but everything was better when-" He was found himself unable to finish the thought out verbally. "I dunno, maybe I'd have more hope about the Commander being okay if she was here. I mean, she did tear up ocean floor to save him before, maybe she could do it again."

Bridger nodded his understanding as he put a fatherly arm around the teen's shoulders. "I think I'd have a lot more hope, too," he empathized in Lucas's own words. "A lot more, kiddo."

The moment was shattered by sharp, angry shouting coming from down the beach.

"Now what?" Bridger muttered, setting off to the source of commotion. He had to shoulder his way through the crowd of officers that had gathered in a tight cluster. At the center of the melee stood Fredericks and O'Neill with Ortiz firmly planted in between. Two against one, Bridger noted. He also apprehended that the crowded was once again divided with the newest members behind Fredericks and the others behind the Senors Chief and the Communications Chief. Neither side bothered to intervene. Upon hearing the term "Inner Circle" slung out again, this time by Fredericks and the hot confirmation of it by Ortiz, Bridger had enough of the embarrassing behavior his crew was exhibiting.

The three culprits immediately backed off when the Captain asserted his presence. Standing at rigid attention, none of them could meet his eyes. When the crowd began to disperse, Bridger called them all back.

"What's this all about?" he demanded hotly. His hot gaze flitted over the three before him.

Storm clouds, black and threatening, rapidly gathered over the island; its seriousness seemingly mirroring the earnestness of people on the beach.

None of the officers seemed to be able to come up any suitable explanation. Each started and stopped, and started and stopped again before exchanging helpless looks with one another.

Bridger shook his head in disgust. "This is absolutely unacceptable." He projected his voice loud enough so that the officers farthest from him knew he was addressing them as well. "I don't know what has gotten into you people, but it had better get out. Fast. I expect everyone to act as the trained military professionals you're suppose to be. Now," he gave each person around him a rebuking glare. "Let's get back to the task at hand."

Distant thunder rumbled and growled as the abashed officers dispersed back to their sides. Bridger didn't have a chance to reflect on his disappointment with his crew's behavior. Hitchcock's team was making for base camp at high speed. Hitchcock outpaced her teammates and reached the captain first. Though winded, there she had something so pressing that she could not take her time to catch her breath. "Captain!" she puffed. "We found it!"

"Slow down, Lieutenant," Bridger told her, trying catch all the words as they came tumbling out at once. "What did you find?"

Hitchcock complied, but just barely. "The escape pod! We found the escape pod. Washed up on shore. Badly damaged."

He almost hated to ask the question for fear of the answer, but it had to asked. "And Jonathan?"

Katie became very still and suddenly couldn't meet the captain's worried gazed. Eventually, she shook her head, her blue eyes relaying her anguish.

"No, nothing," she said finally. "We've searched the surrounding areas as best we can with our limited resources." She drew in a sharp breath and exhaled defeated. "There's no sign of him anywhere."

Bridger repressed a sigh and reached out to give Katie's arm a reassuring squeeze. "You've done everything you could."

"But it's not enough," she said mournfully, before joining the rest of her team.

A sudden bolt of lightning illuminating the sky. The seaQuest crew felt the crackling sensation of the static heat. Brisk, uniform movement occurred the instant Bridger gave the signal to head inside. Hitchcock, Krieg, Ortiz, and the rest of the original crew cast torn, final glances; all were more than willing to brave the storm to continue searching.

Once inside the research station, the crew established their usual sides and glumly carried on stagnate conversations to pass the time.

Lucas stared out of the large viewing window at the tumultuous ocean crashing her fury against the shore. Though Bridger had asked him not to stand so close to the glass with the lightening display going on outside, he didn't budge from his spot, but rather pressed his nose and palms flat against the glass. In the distance, through the wind and driving rain, he thought he saw a figure moving toward the station.