by Greig Beck
She nodded. “Yep; we assume the rescue will be underway, but I’d be a whole lot easier if they were just picking us up from the surface than trying to get us up from 2400 feet.” She turned to the men. “We need to think of everything.”
“Then …” Wade looked up and around their clear glass bubble, surveying the debris covering them. “We just need to try and pop ourselves clear, right?” He fiddled with the console, and then pulled out another pad that looked like a gaming console with two joysticks. “Engaging remote robotic arms.”
Wade linked the console in, and green lights lit up across the board. “We have good connection.” He looked up again. “We’ve still got the drop cable looped over us. It’s effectively lashing us to the Archimedes. Too heavy for us to motor out from; and until we can disengage ourselves from it, we’re not going anywhere. So …”
Wade leaned as far forward to the glass as he could and began to look out and around its edges. The cockpit bubble gave them a mostly unimpeded vision from the front, sides and top. The rear and underbelly fitted into the Alvin superstructure and was pressed into the hull. Sam could see the inches thick cables over them, wrapped around many times. It’d be a monumental job.
Wade sat back and gripped the robotic arm controls.
“Good luck,” Sam said.
Wade half grinned. “Well, we’ve got nothing else to do, so it has our full attention.” His eyes narrowed in concentration. “And here we go.”
From below where they sat, two pincered arms reached forward, crab-like. Wade moved them up beside their stricken craft.
“Easy,” Andy said softly.
The pincers opened and closed a few times before Wade slowed the arms and reached out to try and grasp the first of the cables.
“E-eeeeas-eeeey.” Andy had his own hands up mimicking the claws.
“Quiet,” Wade hissed. “Got it.” He gripped the first of the cables.
“Can you snap it?” Andy asked.
Wade gave him a lopsided smile. “Not a chance; the pincers have strength, but they’ll be no match for a cable that has a break point measured in tons. All I want to do is slide it off us so we can maneuver free. And then get the hell outta here.”
Wade’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, we’re now locked on.” He drew back on the joysticks, and through the glass bubble they heard a metallic whine as the titanium muscles flexed and pulled back on the cable. There was a scraping, and grinding, and the cable moved a few inches.
“Come on, baby, you can do it.” Wade spoke through gritted teeth as though it was his own energy he was expending.
Andy chimed in. “Come on-nnnn.”
With a rush the first loop of cable slid free, falling to the ocean floor just below them. A cloud of silt rose. Andy cheered and turned to high-five Sam.
“Well done,” she said.
“One down,” Wade said. “Luck, stay with us now.”
He reached up to grab the next loop, and as before, with some teasing, yanking, and applying force at different angles, the second cable loop also slid free. Wade paused to crane forward for a moment.
“I think it’s looped around us and also some of it piled on top of us – so it’s probably the weight of the steel that’s nailing us to the bottom.” He focused on dragging another loop from their bubble canopy. Long scratches appeared on the glass and steel nose.
He grinned. “Gonna need a new paint job when we get topside.”
Sam watched the cable fall, and noticed a few jelly-like balloons gliding closer. In the lights of the Alvin they looked golden and reminded her of the floating Chinese lanterns released at night festivals signifying departing souls heading to heaven.
She was transfixed. Each was a little less than a foot in diameter, and when one got to within ten feet it turned side on, staring in at them with one bulging eye.
She grinned. “Hey there, little fella.”
Andy recoiled.
“Calm down,” Sam said.
Wade looked up from his screen. “What’s that disgusting blob?”
The bulb floated closer, tiny tentacles trailing beneath the mantle and two prominent lateral fins on each side of the head that looked like big ears.
“Dumbo,” Sam said. “Grimpoteuthis, also called the Dumbo Octopus. These guys are real deep-sea travelers, and have been found down at 12,000 feet. I’m betting all the commotion has brought them over.”
Wade grunted. “Yeah, that or the bodies.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, more like a crab feast, I think.”
“So, the crabs feeding on the bodies?” Wade pulled in a cheek.
“Oh, shut up.”
The last loop fell away. “We’re winning.” Wade immediately set to bringing the engines online, and engaged them. “Buckle up, I’m going to gently lift us away from the Archimedes.”
The silt swirled around them as the propeller shaft blew water behind them. He also engaged the ventral jets to give them a vertical lift.
The small craft groaned and the nose lifted, but like a sparrow being held by its tail, Alvin strained but went nowhere.
“Damn it.” Wade eased back on the thrust, and then half turned. “Andy, get on the rear cameras and tell me what you see.”
“You got it.” The marine geologist lifted another console and brought some of the rear cameras online. Sam leaned across to watch over his shoulder.
“Oh, shi-iiit.” Andy grimaced.
“Well, that sounds real promising.” Wade exhaled. “So what’s the damage?”
“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.” Andy continued to examine the small screen. “The good news is there’s only one cable remaining.” His mouth twisted. “The bad news is it’s actually looped around us, and you couldn’t push it off us if you tried.”
Wade ran both hands up through his thick hair. “The arms can’t reach back there anyway. So, boys and girls, back to square one.”
Soon, the current gently blew the clouds of silt away and once again they were left with an endless dark plain. The Archimedes dead were now tumbling, boiling masses of crustacean bodies, coiling worm-like creatures that burrowed and wrestled, and, as if part of some sort of festival, the dumbo squid hovered over all of them, alighting now and then to snatch away a small animal, and then drift off with it clasped to the underside of their balloon-like heads.
After a few more minutes, Sam checked their air: okay; battery power: also okay; and supplies: not a problem. But time was moving against them. In forty-eight hours, either the power or the air would end, and then they’d fall into a sleep from which they’d never wake.
“We should shut the lights down, and all non-essential electronics,” she said softly.
“I agree.” Wade flicked off the strobes, and the endless abyssal plain vanished. Finally he turned off the sonar, and other non-essential equipment.
“I’m also going to take the internal temperature down a few degrees. Won’t save us much power, but minutes might count … at the end,” he said glumly.
“At the end,” Andy repeated. “I don’t want to hear that.”
Sam looked down at her console; it was blinking. “Hey, we got a message.”
“Yes.” Wade made a fist.
“Now that, I do like the sound of.” Andy craned over the top of Wade, grinning widely. “Wazzitt say?”
Sam opened the message. Communication with anyone at these depths was difficult because radio waves didn’t travel well through salt water, so an aquatic form of texting was far more efficient than voice communications. It meant whoever was approaching was still a way off. If they were closer and had pinpointed where Alvin was situated on the bottom, then they could drop a transducer to directly transmit messages to Alvin’s stubby antenna.
“Thank god.” Sam read quickly. “Naval rescue and deep-sea retrieval vessel is on the way. They’ve locked onto our beacon.” Her grin widened. “Three hours, max.” She checked her wristwatch. “Home for a late supper.”
Th
e trio broke out in cheers and multiple rounds of high fives.
Wade reached forward. “In that case, let there be warmth, and light.” He flicked on the heaters, internal lights and then the strobes.
Something huge shot over them like an underwater jumbo jet. It was traveling too fast for them to make it out before it was gone.
“What. The f-fuck. Was that?” Andy stammered.
The three of them stared as the silt gently settled again outside their bubble.
“Look,” Wade said, pointing. “The bodies.”
Sam felt a chill run up her spine. They were gone – the bodies, the crabs, the eels; every one of them had been scooped up and taken.
“Turn off the lights,” she whispered.
“Huh?” Andy’s mouth still hung open.
“I said turn off the damn lights.” Sam lunged, flicking all the external and internal lighting back off.
They sat in silence and darkness for a few moments. Sam could feel her heart beating hard in her chest. “Maybe we should turn the sonar back on. I think we might have company.”
CHAPTER 15
Pacific Ocean Surface, edge of the Middle America Trench
“And that’s why we need you to accompany them on their retrieval.” The senior naval officer’s eyes were uncompromising.
Vincent Kelly put his hands on his hips, and leveled his gaze at Captain Nelson. “And do what, sir? By the way, I’m coast guard, not navy.”
“Seconded to me, Senior Chief Petty Officer. You can take it up with your CO when you get back.” The captain grinned with zero mirth. “Remember, you were the one who told us there was a large biological anomaly we might encounter that could be dangerous. And that might put this rescue attempt in jeopardy. I’ve read your report, and frankly, though many people think you’re nuts, I don’t.”
Captain Nelson looked out over the dark blue water for a moment. “I’ve been on the high seas long enough to have seen some weird stuff. Whatever this anomaly is—”
“A Megalodon shark,” Vincent said flatly.
Nelson nodded. ”You’ve seen it, you’ve bested it, and if you can add one atom of assistance, then I goddamn want you down there with my people. Clear?” He leaned toward Vincent’s face.
Vincent knew resolve when he saw it. And though his primal instinct was to fight back, or maybe run a mile from this, his sense of duty meant he probably would’ve volunteered.
“Crystal, sir.”
“Good man.” Nelson turned away. “Follow me; we’re pinpointing their location now, but we’ve already established comms. Might be a good time for you to open some dialogue and see what’s what.”
Vincent followed the captain to the bridge. They were aboard a search and rescue frigate with a flat rear that normally launched and received helicopter, but now carried a single bathyscaphe. The muscular gray ship displaced 4100 long tons, was 380 feet in length and had a 45-foot beam. It could cut through pack ice if need be.
Vince paused on the metal steps to look back down at his mission vehicle. On the broad rear deck sat fifty-nine feet of armor-plated DSRV, or Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle. It looked like a long tube with three bulbs spaced evenly along its length. He’d seen inside; the interior was composed of three spheres – the first sphere was the control center, where the pilot and copilot operated the vehicle. The other two spheres were used to seat the rescuees or to install equipment for additional operations.
The vehicle, nicknamed Argonautica, could get down to depths of 4000 feet and was able to accommodate twenty-four rescued personnel at a time. They had all the muscle power they needed in two large batteries, one fore and one aft, that drove the electrical, hydraulic and life-support systems. And for something so bulky looking the Argonautica was surprisingly fast, thanks to four thrusters and one main propeller.
Being a submersible rescue vessel, it had universal docking, meaning it could attach to any submarine from any country in the world – even tiny pods like the Alvin.
“Senior Chief Petty Officer.”
Vincent turned to follow the sound of Captain Nelson’s voice onto the bridge. As they entered, the men and women saluted and Nelson called them to at ease, and headed to the communication console.
“We still in contact?” Nelson asked.
“Yes, sir, we’re still messaging. They’re fine right now.” The officer stood back.
“Good.” The captain waved Vince closer. “Introduce yourself and ask some questions. We should be right over the top of them in fifteen minutes, and we’ll be dropping you guys down sixty seconds later. Thankfully, we’ll have voice comms operational by then.”
Vincent nodded, and stepped forward. He sent a message introducing himself, and Samantha Britt, Cate’s friend, returned the greeting.
Vince began to type: Tell me what happened. The short version.
After a few seconds, a reply came through.
Theodore DSV on its way up. Attacked. Its drop line snagged. Archimedes pulled over. We were getting ready to dive in Alvin, sealed ourselves in and got pulled down with ship. We’re tied to Archimedes on bottom. Still hung up in cables. Stuck.
Archimedes pulled over – the words immediately made Vince feel uneasy. He hesitated for a moment, aware that he was being watched. He typed quickly.
Are you secure?
For now, but we’re balanced on top of trench cliff wall. One kiss, and we fall in – 23,000 feet to the abyss.
Vince sighed. Nothing was easy, he thought.
Understood, and then, tell me what you saw.
Vince waited as the screen blinked. It was still open, but there was obviously some hesitation. And then.
On the bottom, just a while back, we think we saw something … big, fast.
Vincent grimaced.
Is it there now?
Don’t know. Can’t see it now.
Captain Nelson, reading over Vince’s shoulder, turned to his sonar officer. “Anything?”
The man shook his head. “No, sir, cool, calm and clear for twenty miles in all directions.”
“Good.” Nelson folded his arms.
Vincent nodded, he should have been comforted by the scan, but for some reason he wasn’t.
Hang tight. We’re coming down shortly. Vincent. Out.
We’ll be here. God bless you. Sam, Wade, Andy. Out.
Vince straightened. “How long until we’re over them?”
The sonar officer didn’t hesitate. “We’ll be right on top of their position in under five minutes.”
Nelson grunted, and turned to Vince. “Suit up, and good luck.”
Vince was taken down on deck and given a blue coverall suit that was more for warmth than waterproofing, and he and the two pilots went in through the lower hatch of Argonautica. Vince saw the hatch was a tube with a rotating inner core that was designed to fit over a downed sub’s external hatch and create a watertight and, hopefully, airtight seal.
The water pressure at the depth they were headed was around 1460 pounds per square inch, and even a pinhole leak would be beyond catastrophic – it would cut like a laser beam. It would also change the air density in the submersible in seconds – they’d be crushed to pulp.
Vincent remembered reading about early deep-sea submersible designs, and of Dr. William Beebe who constructed a bathysphere where he used two specially designed quartz windows for viewing, that were each several inches thick. To test the new windows, they lowered the unoccupied sphere down to 2000 feet.
When the enormous steel ball was hauled up, Beebe noticed something was wrong. Firstly, the winches were straining, as the bathysphere was far heavier than when it had gone down. Secondly, and more telling, there was a needle of water shooting across the external face of one of the windows. Looking in through another window, Beebe could see that the submersible was almost full of water. But, strangely, the few feet of air remaining curiously rippled as though filled with an oily gas.
He guessed at what he was seeing; the air was super com
pressed, and would have been beyond deadly for a human being. When they tried to open the bathysphere, the hatch edges began to fizz and then spray water with such force the crew had to seek cover.
It was then that the hatch blew off and flew across the deck, striking a bulkhead wall so hard it put a six-inch deep dent in the military-grade steel.
Vincent used his knuckles to wrap on the thick steel hull. “Don’t you do that to me, will you?” He grinned and lifted himself up in through the hatch. He inhaled, smelling engine oil, ozone, and scrubbed air.
“Welcome aboard the Argonautica, sir. Lieutenant Briggs, pilot.” He thumbed over his shoulder at his partner who was checking something on his console. “And my buddy here is Lieutenant Oshima, copilot.” The second man, with dark stubble over his head and Japanese-looking features, turned and nodded, but then continued with his prelaunch checks.
“Vincent Kelly, hostage.” He grinned, saluted, and then shook Briggs’ hand. Oshima turned and offered his hand.
Vince looked around. “What do you need me to do?”
Briggs sat and turned to his console. Both men had control sticks, and all manner of buttons, dials and electronics surrounding them.
Briggs shook his head. “For now, just strap in, sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s going to take us a good hour to reach them at 2400 feet. This old fish needs to take it slow. Argonautica is a bulldozer not a Ferrari.”
Vince chuckled. “Sounds fine to me. Are we in communication with the Alvin yet?”
“We will be when we’re in the water,” Oshima said. “Our instructions are that you’ll be taking control of the comms and advising on any special situations, sir. Is that your understanding, Senior Chief Petty Officer?”
“That’s my understanding, and call me Vince.” Vince strapped himself in.
He watched as the two men worked like a pair of machines, checking their instruments and talking softly to whichever controllers they were running through a pre-dive analysis with. He was reminded of astronauts preparing for launch – and he knew where they were headed was just as deadly and remote as outer space.
Vince looked out through the cockpit window and saw men and women ambling about on deck. He noticed that his foot was tapping nervously. Calm yourself, man, he thought. We’re not even in the water yet.
