by K. T. Tomb
“I don't need luxury,” she said. “Luxury is what I'm leaving behind. All I need is you.”
She threw her arms around his neck with abandon and let herself be swept away by his kiss.
“Let's go back to the deck,” Stephan suggested after the embrace. “Don't you want to see the Ship of Dreams embark on her maiden voyage?”
“Let's stay here,” Darya said with a sly grin. “I can think of much more interesting ways to celebrate the maiden voyage.”
She reached behind her and carefully closed the door.
June 17, 2014
Approaching Latitude 41° 43' 57" North, longitude 49° 56' 49" West
“Explain it to me again,” Nick said. “How’re we not going to implode like raw eggs in a hot tub?”
Nick stood with Harper, Franco and Lisa looking at the dive suits, disembodied shells that resembled space suits in their complexity.
“The suits are made of an experimental fabric which allows for deep sea penetration,” Lisa replied.
Nick giggled.
“That's what I'm talking about,” he said in a mock-suggestive voice.
“Grow up, Nick,” Lisa continued. “As I was saying, when a human being traverses into the ocean several things happen; on the one hand, at depths of more than one hundred feet, a diver may experience nitrogen narcosis, a phenomenon in which the pressure causes the gases in one's blood stream to become toxic. This causes the diver to experience a number of symptoms ranging from numbness to vision impairment, and sometimes even hallucinations.”
Nick responded to the word with an enthusiastic fist pump into the air, exclaiming, “Yes!”
Lisa responded with a sidelong glare. She did not consider dive-related sicknesses a laughing matter.
“It’s important,” she continued, “that divers are aware of the effects so that they know how to remedy it should they begin to experience symptoms during the dive. At first, a diver may feel a sense of euphoria and extreme confidence, causing them to think that not only is nothing wrong, but that everything is going masterfully. It is important to notice this, as it is perhaps the most misleading harbinger of the sickness.”
Franco, who had been listening intently asked, “What happens if someone gets it? Is there a treatment or long term consequences?”
“Quite simply,” Lisa replied, “ascend back to a shallower depth. The symptoms will dissipate immediately.”
“All of the rush, none of the crush.” Nick said approvingly.
“Not quite,” Lisa said. “One of the other dangers of deep sea diving involves ascending too fast. This results in decompression sickness.”
“The bends,” Franco said.
“No good,” Nick added for good measure.
“This happens when the nitrogen in your body decompresses, causing bubbles to form and a build up of nitrogen in the bloodstream. As the diver descends into the water, the nitrogen bubbles decompress and have to find a way to escape. The pressure forces them into the body, causing bubbles to be present in the joints and muscles of the diver. To alleviate the symptoms the diver must ascend slowly, allowing the gases to escape from the body tissues. This is also called 'off-gassing'.”
Nick suppressed a giggle. Franco gave him a stern look. Lisa walked toward Nick, placing herself firmly in front of him, feet planted, arms crossed.
“Do you find this amusing?” she said without a trace of humor in her voice.
Nick smothered his laughter, trying to regain an air of solemnity.
“No, of course not,” he said.
Lisa Noye's military background began to peek through her already icy facade.
“You are about to suit up and embark on a journey that has never been attempted before; putting a human being into a scenario which has never been attempted before on this planet. It would be in your best interest to pay attention, since it’s going to be you who is making that journey. Are you prepared, Diver Moore?”
The medic's voice had risen to a sharp staccato mirroring that of a drill sergeant. She had inched her face closer to Nick's. With her last statement she held her position, her eyes boring into his. He glanced away, unable to meet her gaze.
“Of course, Lisa,” he stammered at last. “I'm taking it seriously. Relax.”
“Now,” Lisa continued, turning to pace slowly along the deck, tracing a path between the divers and the suits. “There are two common types of decompression sickness. Type one and type two. Type one is not serious, but could be a warning of more dangerous symptoms. The initial indications include a red rash, which is the capillaries, tiny blood vessels close to the skin, bursting because of the escaping nitrogen bubbles. This is accompanied by joint pain, chest pain and muscle pain. The discomfort permeates the diver's entire body who feels this pain down to the very bone marrow. When the illness was first discovered, the divers would be in so much pain as to cause them to collapse and bend at the waist to try to alleviate the pressure. This is where it got the name 'the bends'.”
Harper, who had been listening intently from the bench, elbows resting on his knees with hands clasped loosely before him, let out a deep, slow breath.
“This is only the beginning,” Lisa continued. “Type two decompression sickness happens when the nervous system is affected. It manifests first as tingling in the extremities, as if your hand or leg has fallen asleep. This escalates quickly into inhibited breathing, paralysis and can lead to embolism and eventually death. Not a pleasant way to go.”
She stopped in front of the dive suits letting her eyes roam over the alien-looking attire. Her words struck a chord, as they would with any diver. The sound of the water rushing past the small ship accented the silence that hung over the men that stood behind her ruminating on the descriptions she had given. She turned, meeting the gaze of James Harper who was watching her intently.
“Mr. Harper,” she said. “We are about to attempt to submerge two human beings without a diving vessel to a depth of over ten thousand feet. Would you care to explain to us how these suits are going to keep our men safe and prevent everything that I have just described?”
Harper stood, rubbing his hands on the top of his jeans and approached the suits. As Lisa stepped aside, he looked over the gear.
“These suits are going to take you down to the Titanic,” he began. “Each one is fitted with several devices which work together to ensure communication with the support vessel and with each other. No human has submerged to this depth before. Today we are breaking a record.”
“Too bad we are also breaking the law,” Nick muttered.
“We do what needs to be done,” Franco interjected. “For the price that people pay, I, for one, am not in it for record-breaking recognition. Continue.” He gestured to Harper.
“These suits help to regulate the nitrogen in your body through the use of something called Total Liquid Ventilation. A gel-like liquid is filled into the diver’s lungs. This allows the body to maintain the pressure of the surrounding liquid, combating the effects of the high pressure atmosphere of deep sea diving. The liquid allows for ventilation on a level comparable to that of breathing the gaseous atmosphere as our bodies are used to doing. TLV has been attempted before, but the results were disappointing. This new technique uses a higher concentration of combinations on the molecular level to ensure saturation with the blood flow.”
Harper stopped and turned toward Nick and Franco.
“At first the initial adjustment to having one's lungs filled with liquid can be a bit... disconcerting. But once the body equalizes, which does not take more than a few seconds, you will experience oxygen intake just as you would if breathing air. Once the final depth is reached, divers will experience full equilibrium to the water around you and be completely protected from the surrounding water pressure.”
Captain Martin had made his way down from the steering room at the top of the deck and circled slowly around behind the divers, listening to the explanations. He shook his head and gave a snort of derision, w
hich gained everyone's attention. Harper raised his eyebrows toward the captain who then began to speak.
“You think the worst thing that can happen to you is diving sickness? You newbies get me every time. There's more down there than you can even begin to understand.”
He chuckled and began to walk away.
“Captain,” Franco called after him, “we have a job to do. We will find those diamonds.”
The captain turned to face Franco.
“You go ahead,” he said. “Go on down there and look for those pretty rocks. Hell, you might even come back, clutching them right in your hand. But I can assure you, I have made this run a thousand times, and no one comes back to the surface the same as when they go down.”
“Really,” Franco said. “You think that’s so?”
“I know it’s so,” Captain Martin said with an even tone.
“Have you ever seen the Titanic?” Franco said, the challenge in his voice evident.
“No. My diving days were long over when they found that ship,” Martin replied. “But I have seen the faces of those who've been down there.”
Franco remained wordless as the captain turned and walked back to the galley. The North Atlantic wind blew across the faces of the two divers who waited for the next step.
Lisa spoke first.
“Gentlemen,” she said. “Are we ready to suit up?”
Nick let out a loud, high-pitched, “Yeeeeooooow!!” breaking the tension, the sound echoing over the surface of the water. Harper grinned and Franco stepped forward with a slight smirk on his face.
“Let's do this,” Franco said.
Lisa and Harper stepped forward to lift the first diving suit from the transparent storage case. Franco stripped out of his street clothes, leaving him in the diving undergarments which they had changed into about an hour before while preparing for the dive. He pulled on the wet suit next. The thick elastic fabric pulled next to his skin, the sensation made him think of the thousands of times he had suited up for a dive up to this point. The Titanic had been a dream from the early days. What diver hasn't wanted to see the famous ship of dreams? Franco thought to himself. His heart began to race as Lisa pulled the zipper tight to his body. Harper followed her lead, placing the oxygen tanks on Franco's shoulders.
“This is where it gets interesting,” Harper said. “The TLV gel will begin to fill up after the face plate is lowered. Your instinct will be to hold your breath, but despite this, it is recommended to try to inhale as the gel covers your mouth and nose. You will experience a little bit of discomfort, but the sooner you transition, the easier it is in the long run.”
For the next twenty minutes, Lisa and Harper checked attachments, tested the tubing, locked zipper tags.
“You know what I think?” Nick said. “I think the captain's gone batty.”
“What are you talking about?” Lisa asked.
“I think he's been on the sea too long. It's gone to his brain. Happens all the time, you know. Even on the Titanic. Reports say that the lookout crew in the crow's nest didn't see the iceberg until it was right in front of the ship. They had enough range to see at least a half an hour of distance ahead of them, giving them plenty of time to avoid any collision. Eyewitness accounts say it was a clear night, unusually bright that fateful day, April 15, 1912.”
“Oh, come on,” Lisa said. “A vessel that size would take some serious time to turn.”
“Not what you might think,” Harper said. “The ship was surprisingly maneuverable. They began to turn as soon as they saw the iceberg. Ironically, if they hadn't turned... I mean, if they had hit the 'berg head on, they would have had a much better chance of staying afloat, of surviving.”
“What do you mean?” Harper said as he tightened a strap on the oxygen tank.
“Well, when the ship turned, they thought they would miss the 'berg because they turned as sharp as they could. But in doing so, they exposed the side of the ship. There was a jagged shard protruding from the iceberg underneath the water's surface. That thing ripped into her like a can opener into a tin can!”
“That's enough!” Franco snapped.
“They said she couldn't be sunk,” Nick continued. “Called her the unsinkable ship, you know. It had been designed to take on water, to experience a breach of the hull, even to break apart into three pieces. But being hit along the side like that... no one could have predicted that. The kind of hit that took the Titanic down was a freak accident in every sense of the word. That kind of side impact iceberg hit hadn't happened like that before or since in all of recorded maritime history.”
“What's your point?” Franco said.
“No point, really,” Nick said. “I just find it fascinating. The ship is waiting for us.”
He reached his arms forward waiting for the Lisa and Nick to lift the suit out for him to step into.
“There are those who might think the captain could be on to something though. There's also the theory about the curse.”
“Curse, really.” Harper interjected. “Don't tell me you're one of those types.”
“Doesn't really matter what type I am,” Nick said. “The theory exists.”
Harper rolled his eyes and continued to adjust the suit. Lisa remained focused on her task as well, keeping her vision forward, seemingly ignoring the conversation.
Nick continued.
“They say the curse came from an ancient mummy that had been smuggled aboard in the cargo hold underneath a car. The owner of the mummy had already experienced a whole bunch of misfortune. Supposedly the owner had already tried to ship the sarcophagus twice before. Get this! Aboard the Empress of Ireland, then again on the Lusitania. He didn't want to declare the item to the ship, so he strapped it to the underside of a Model T!”
“The Empress of Ireland and the Lusitania both sank,” Franco said.
“Yes, they did, my friend.” Nick concluded with a knowing nod. “Yes, they did.”
“As much as I'm enjoying all the chit chat,” Lisa interrupted while standing and brushing her hands together. “It's time for the pre-dive instructions.”
Franco and Nick stood in the dive suits; gray, fitted wet suits fortified with specialized pressure-sensitive material. Bright orange trim traced alongside their forms which would allow them better visual with each other once under the surface. The cumbersome tanks on their backs looked heavy, but they knew would become manageable once they submerged. Their heads remained uncovered for the moment while they prepared for the pre-dive.
“The next step is to engage the TLV,” Harper explained. “Are there any questions before we begin?”
Franco spoke.
“How do the comm links work? How do we speak to each other if we are fully immersed in liquid?”
“Good question,” Harper said. “The helmet is fitted with a few sensor devices that will adhere to your neck with a light adhesive. Just speak as you would normally and the vibrations will transmit the communication to the other diver's receiver. They will hear what you say relayed by the computer chip implanted in every suit. That is also the way you communicate with me here on deck. We'll test the systems after we initiate the TLV.”
Franco nodded.
“I'm ready,” he said.
He glanced over at Nick, who was muttering something in Russian. Probably a pre-dive prayer as he had been known to do in the past. Franco took this as a good sign. When Nick was feeling religious, he also avoided using. Lisa sat down at the comm station and watched the screens showing the divers’ vital signs. Harper nodded to the divers. Nick and Franco lifted the dome shaped devices over their heads and waited while Harper checked the seal at their neckline. He attached their comm link devices, pressing the small sensor to the skin below the men's throats. He checked the ventilation and then gave Lisa the thumbs up. The divers both gave another thumbs up to indicate readiness for the TLV process. Harper approached Franco first; he guided Franco to the edge of the ship next to the dive platform. Franco placed his hands on t
he edge of the rail and waited. Harper threw the switch on the back of the diver's tank.
The transparent face plate inches in front of Franco allowed him a view of the blue surface of the ocean. He tried to focus on this expanse, willing his mind to ignore the liquid sound of the TLV gel beginning to fill his helmet. The cold against his skin did little to calm the tickle of panic gnawing at his lower spine. He took a breath, instinctively lifting his face as the gel filled past his chin.
Here it comes, he thought to himself. He had done this before, of course, but that did not make the experience any less unpleasant. The gel covered his nose, but had not yet reached his eyes; he remained focused on the distant haze of the horizon. Within seconds the transparent gel covered his eyes, which Franco closed upon contact. For an eternal moment, he allowed the feel of the gel on his face to consume him with a feeling of claustrophobia, knowing this would not be the worst of it. He counted inside his head. One. Two. Three. Opened his mouth and took a breath. Instantly, his body attempted to reject the feeling of drowning. He willed his hands to remain still, clutching the metal rail of the ship as the seconds passed. He wanted to scream and claw at the device around his head, but he remained still. He exhaled a bubble as the air left his lungs, being replaced with the liquid. He took another breath. This time he felt the oxygen enter his system and his normality began to regulate.
He opened his eyes. The presence of the transparent gel did not inhibit his vision in any way and his view of the horizon remained clear. He turned his head slightly and gave the thumbs up to Harper and Lisa.
“Heart rate, normal.” Lisa said, acknowledging the thumbs up.
“Testing comm link,” Harper said.
“Comm link response, okay to go,” Franco's voice emitted from the speaker of the console as he spoke his reply.
“Diver, okay to go?” Harper said, watching Franco.
“Okay to go,” Franco replied. “I am okay to go.”
Harper gave the signal and Franco flipped off the diving platform into the ocean. Immediately he felt the equilibrium of the sea embrace him. He submerged under the water and resurfaced, allowing himself to become oriented to the buoyant feeling of the water. He waited while, up on deck, Nick went through the same transformation that he had just undergone. The sky radiated a pale blue with the sun high overhead. The surface of the ocean had been calm, but small swelling waves lifted Franco up and down alongside the ship. Several moments passed before Nick flipped off of the platform next to him. Franco watched the face of his friend. Nick's eyes looked wide and trembling. He glanced from side to side wildly.
