Sword of God(10)
The weather was crisp, somewhere in the low forties, but it felt much colder because of the icy breeze that surged off the water. The people of Jeju often referred to their home as Samdado: the island of three abundances—wind (pungda), rocks (seokda), and women (yeoda). Jagged cliffs of black stone lined the northern face and made up the island’s core, formed by a volcanic eruption during the Quaternary Period of the Cenozoic Era. No historical records exist before the life of Christ, but local folklore insists that three leather-clad gods rose from the earth and used Tamnaguk (now called Jeju) for hunting. This continued until the gods stumbled upon a wooden chest that contained three princesses from the East Sea. The three gods married the three ladies and spent the rest of their lives raising five different grains, cows, and horses.
“You guys ever been here?” asked the soldier as he pulled their SUV onto the highway that led to Mount Halla, the highest mountain in South Korea. Its white peak rose 6,000 feet above sea level, spreading east to west across the center of the 712-square-mile island. “The coastal areas are swarming with tourists, particularly newlyweds. Asians view Jeju as the ultimate destination for honeymooners. Some people call it the Korean Hawaii.”
Payne studied the distant landscape—thick groves of alpine trees covered the black basalt—and disagreed with the comparison. “Doesn’t look like Hawaii.”
“Doesn’t feel like it, either,” Jones declared from the backseat. “Turn on the damn heater.”
The soldier smiled and cranked up the temperature. “Koreans actually embrace the variety of climates on Jeju. It’s one of the only places in the world where you can find both polar and tropical animals living on the same island.”
Payne nodded. “That’s kind of unique.”
“That’s nothing. This mountain we’re driving up right now, the one with all the snow on the top? It’s actually a volcano. When was the last time you saw snow on a volcano?”
“It’s been a while. We don’t have volcanoes in Pittsburgh.”
“Obviously it’s dormant now, but Mount Halla’s eruption formed this island millions of years ago. Everything you see—the hotels, the lakes, the trees—is sitting on volcanic rock. But the most remarkable part is what you can’t see. The core of this entire island is surging with lava tubes, massive wormholes snaking through the earth like giant veins. And I’m not talking small caves. I’m talking huge. The largest is more than eight miles long.”
Running throughout the northeastern corner of the island, Manjanggul is one of the longest lava tube systems in the world. The width of the main cave varies between six and seventy feet, while the height soars to more than ninety feet in certain spots. Tourists flock to three main entrances, where they are able to explore the naturally formed lava pillars and stalactites, including a landmark called Turtle Rock, which looks like an ancient turtle crawling out of the depths of Earth. Public tours are stopped six-tenths of a mile deep, leaving seven and a half miles to scientists who observe bats and other underground creatures in their natural habitat. They also study the tubes themselves, trying to ascertain why rivers of lava that once flowed deep underground burst to the surface, leaving massive chasms behind.
Experts believe there are more than a hundred lava tubes on Jeju, but only 60 percent have been documented in public records. The others are either undiscovered or being used for alternative purposes—such as the cave the U.S. military was studying. It was being protected by the top soldiers in the Pacific fleet.
A thick rope hung between two camphor trees at the bottom of the rocky trail, blocking all unauthorized personnel. Two soldiers dressed in casual clothes sat on folding chairs, checking IDs. If they were trying to look inconspicuous, they were unsuccessful. Their size and skin color gave them away. Thankfully, other soldiers fared much better. Their painted faces and camouflage uniforms blended in with the nearby woods, making them virtually invisible. They scanned the terrain with their sniper scopes, poised to eliminate any trespassers who tried to approach the cave. Although this island was South Korean, this hillside temporarily belonged to the United States of America.
Members of Payne’s team flashed their credentials and were given immediate access to the site. Led by the soldier from the SUV, the trio climbed the path behind him, careful where they stepped. First Jones, then Kia, then Payne, his eyes darting back and forth, noticing everything. Azalea bushes, no longer in bloom, dotted the lower landscape, as did fields of long brown grass that rustled like dead leaves every time the wind blew. Up ahead, larger trees lined the basalt trail, roots and trunks squeezing out of narrow fissures in the stone. Fingerlike branches waved overhead, swaying against the breeze, as if urging them to stop. Under their footsteps, rocks crunched like broken bones, the sound mixing with the stale scent that wafted down the hillside like a waterfall of stench. The entire place felt macabre, like nothing Payne had ever experienced before. In his mind, he likened it to the setting of an Edgar Allan Poe story.