The time was Tuesday, July 8, 2008, at 2:21 PM.
Pacific Ocean.
A medium-sized yacht sailed across the vast sea, with unidentified white birds soaring nearby. Yet none of the people aboard felt inclined to identify the species of seabird.
On deck, two men scrutinized the instruments before them. Both appeared young, likely no older than twenty-three or twenty-four.
The one on the right looked mixed-race, his hair cropped extremely short-a few more snips and only scalp would remain. With thick brows, large eyes that darted about, and bronze skin, he exuded the image of a healthy, handsome guy.
The one on the left was of average build, wearing a floral shirt, swim trunks, and flip-flops. His short, curly hair was a distinctive Greek brown. A laptop sat on a small table beside him. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he entered data, occasionally glancing up at the instrument's screen before quickly jotting down readings.
Both men worked with intense focus, as if the screen held some hidden treasure.
The instrument's display showed images from the ocean floor. Via radio, they communicated with Morgan, the diver currently exploring the depths, recording his observations and experiences.
