Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven

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Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven Page 19

by Dennis Chamberland


  “Hovering now at 35 feet, sir,” Leighthouser said.

  “Ok everyone, start chewing your gum – everyone!” Spencer ordered. “I don’t care if you normally don’t chew gum or like this flavor. Pull the gum out of the packages in front of your seat and start chewing!”

  Seven reached in front of his seat and pulled out a green package of mint flavored gum. He generally never chewed gum, but did as he was ordered to do.

  “In ten seconds, I’m going to commence pressurization,” Spencer said. “Chew your gum hard and fast. If you get any pain in your ears, raise your hand so I can see it.” When the seconds had passed, Spencer ordered, “Commence pressurization, Mr. Leighthouser, and easy as you go. We don’t want any reverse blocking on this trip.”

  Leighthowser’s touch on the pressure valve was indeed easy, but the uncomfortable sensation of pressure on Seven’s ears was immediate. By rapidly chewing the gum and elongating his jaw muscles, he managed to keep up with the pressure increase, popping his ears over and over. An occasional hand was raised, and Leighthouser would back off until the hand went down. Soon, Leighthouser announced, “LP1 at 1.7 atmospheres, sir.”

  “Excellent! Good work, Mr. Leighthouser,” Spencer replied. “Is anyone in here experiencing any serious or sharp pain in your ears?”

  No one responded.

  “Is anyone here experiencing any sinus stuffiness or pressure in your ears? Please be honest!”

  Half a dozen hands were raised and two of the children were whimpering.

  “This is very common. The sensation should go away as you continue to chew your gum. If it doesn’t by the time we reach our destination, please let a medical technician know. You’ll be able to spot them by their red cross armbands at our point of departure at Pacifica . Mr. Leighthouser, please continue our descent with all diligence,” Spencer ordered.

  “Aye, sir.”

  The giant platform began to settle deeper into the Pacific void. Seven could distinctly feel the vibration of the powerful winch as it pulled them slowly down. As the depth increased to over 100 feet, he could see that the light level from the surface had diminished noticeably. The platform continued to groan, bump and adjust to the mounting pressure outside, and Seven could still see no detail out of the window.

  At 125 feet, Seven saw the first marine life: a large fish, well over three feet in length, swam lazily by the window nearest him and down the rows of windows, causing exclamations of surprise and awe from the passengers. He seemed to be as curious about this strange metal box’s occupants as they were of him.

  “That’s a Pacific Jack,” Spencer pointed out, obviously enjoying his role as tour guide. “The Jack is one of hundreds of species we see every day at Pacifica . In fact, the structure of Pacifica has become an artificial reef in mid-ocean, so that we’re now beginning to see a fine collection of mid-to-shallow ocean species – true reef species, if you will - congregating around the structures that aren’t normally found in the open ocean.” Minutes later, Spencer ordered, “Mr. Leighthouser, turn the platform so that our guests can get a good view of their new home.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  LP1 had now descended below 150 feet and had maneuvered somewhat closer to its docking target on the lower Pacifica structure, although they were still a respectable distance away. As the windows swiveled around to face the massive structure of the ocean colony, Seven and every other observer gasped with surprise as one.

  The huge steel structure that was Pacifica appeared abreast of them and away from the platform so that they could view its every incredible detail. It was an astonishing sight, looking every bit like a massive space station floating not in a deep black, but in a deep blue void. Its form was suspended in the abyss by many huge cables that disappeared into the blackness below them.

  The sunlight from above had dimmed sufficiently so that Pacifica was poised in permanent twilight, even during the brightest, sunlit day above. Pacifica’s thousands of visible lights not only outlined the subsea city and gave it detail, but also lit the surrounding void in a halo of light, a glowing aura that seemed to surround the invisible with the visible – a soft, intangible barrier of life cut within the emptiness of the ocean space.

  Also surrounding Pacifica were dozens of moving lights, like so many slowly moving stars, that Seven immediately recognized as submarines, mini-subs and unmanned robots, each on their appointed missions. Some were close enough to make out as individual cylinders but most were too far away and only appeared as pinpoints of light in motion. As he watched, one tiny dot of light slowly disappeared into the deep gloom beneath them, and was eventually lost from sight in the blackness below.

  Off to one side and just below the primary platform was a detached structure which appeared to be less than one fifth the size of the main station. Seven immediately recognized it from his research as the incredible 100 megawatt OTEC power station. It glowed more brightly than the main station, a single kernel of brilliant light with cables and very large ducts that disappeared into the eternal night below. Linking this power station and the main platform were additional cable bundles that ran laterally between them, connecting the two, obviously comprising the primary power conduits to the station.

  Except for the detached power kernel, Pacifica was a single connected construction, some 850 feet in length, with an enormous central sphere 500 feet in width and a full ten stories in height. It was nothing like Seven had ever seen before. The closest analogy that came to his mind was a massive offshore oil platform without legs. But it also looked like a space station, minus solar panels. Buried within the steel outlined form of Pacifica were countless sub-structures of all shapes: huge cylinders connected together, but also spheres of various sizes as well as many box-like compositions scattered throughout.

  Seven looked closely and thought he could actually see the entire connected mass sway ever so slightly in the mid-ocean swell, almost totally absent at this depth, but still with enough influence to imperceptibly effect the huge configuration. He thought at first that he had imagined this motion, but by looking at the space that separated the power station from the main platform, the motion was easy to detect as both structures swung independently in the swell. It was a very minor motion, but it was there nonetheless.

  As LP1 moved ever closer to its target, still close to a hundred feet away, its motion was nearly all horizontal now with only a few tens of feet of vertical distance remaining. Seven could make out details in the main colony as it inched closer. As the landing platform maneuvered past Pacifica , he began to clearly discern circular windows and bubble portholes.

  He also began to distinguish the colony’s astounding main structure: a huge, flattened sphere that sat embedded near the edge of the central platform, fixed neatly and perfectly on the centerline of the structure. The oblate spheroid was one hundred feet in height and an astonishing five hundred feet in diameter, rising above and below the frame of the structure onto which it was fixed. This sphere was the single most dominating and captivating aspect of Pacifica.

  Connected to its center and located along the exact middle of the community was a single passageway that ran along the entire length of the colony. Along the top of the globe was a row of windows that Seven recognized as the Command Center, the place from which the undersea community was controlled. Inside this huge orb, he knew from his briefing, was also the place where he and Serea would establish their new home. As he looked carefully, he could clearly see people standing at the windows looking down on them as they prepared to dock.

  Seven looked at the nearly inconceivably intricate geometry of the undersea community and could see beneath the underwater complex the dark silhouette of a United States Seawolf class fast attack submarine, the USS Leviathan, SSN24, heading home to dock inside its pen underneath the massive structure. Its task was to patrol the waters surrounding the community and to protect it.

  Attached to the left side of the primary structure, just below the mid-level of the
sphere, was a long, structural arm that held a platform identical to the one in which they were being transported. On its side, facing them, in large letters was stenciled “LP2” for Landing Platform 2.

  As their platform, LP1, inched closer to its destination, Spencer ordered, “Mr. Leighthouser, engage docking computer.”

  “Aye, sir. Docking computer engaged.”

  As he said this, LP1 began a long slow spin on its center axis as the external propellers took control and began to align it for its docking position to the right of LP2 and parallel with the outside edge of Pacifica. When the two platforms were in place, they fit neatly into the long structures that jutted out before the huge sphere, appearing like the arms of some ultra-advanced techno-Sphinx. The view they had of Pacifica swept slowly away from them as LP1 rotated; the maneuver’s every movement displayed on the large status screen before them.

  “Set and drift nominal. We’re well within range,” Leighthouser intoned.

  “Reading positioning coordinates now. Closing. PCC down point two, two point one at 371.”

  “Down point three, one point nine at 365.”

  A large bull’s eye began to flash on the screen overlaid by an offset target that represented the platform’s position.

  “Nominal dock. Down point two, one point zero one at 374 now. Nominal offset. Nominal docking engaged.”

  “Offset closing. Offset closing. Switching now to offset coordinates,” Leighthouser announced.

  “Roger, go with it,” Spencer responded.

  “Roger, offset coordinates,” the Command Center responded. “You are go for docking.”

  “Roger. Go for dock. OFC seven vertical and 14 radial.”

  “Roger that. Confirm seven and 14,” the Command Center responded. “We’re synched and true. Prepare to engage annular ring.”

  Thirty seconds passed, and then a loud scraping noise reverberated throughout LP1 as the docking ring of the platform connected with the steel collar that would mechanically guide it into its proper position.

  “That sound is normal. Please relax,” Spencer announced.

  “Ring engaged. Docking thrusters to 65 percent for nominal dock,” Leighthouser reported.

  “Manually override thrusters to 55,” Spencer ordered.

  “Roger, manual override to 55.”

  “OFC three and seven. One point five and two. Point two and one.” Half a minute passed in silence as the two targets converged on the status screen. Then there was a loud bang as the platform shook.

  “Hard dock!” Leighthouser said with a wide smile.

  “Confirm hard dock,” the Command Center responded. “Welcome home LP1.”

  “I’d like to ask all of you to gather up your personal belongings before you depart the platform. Please remember to hang onto Bucky Bear this time, young lady,“ Spencer said. “Your belongings that were loaded into the cargo compartments on the incoming aircraft will be delivered to your rooms later today. We’ll exit to the rear of this compartment and down the hatch that Seaman Casper will be opening momentarily. Welcome to Pacifica!”

  Seven sighed deeply and turned to Serea who was gazing out the nearest window. He looked over her shoulder and could see Pacifica’s massive structural beams that supported the undersea colony with hundreds of fish of all forms and descriptions swimming lazily around the structure. From his limited viewpoint, Seven could also see several single-occupant submarines begin to approach LP1. One sub inched close to the window and spun about so that the sub’s pilot could look inside. The individual waved through its transparent bubble top and smiled, then quickly maneuvered away beneath them and out of sight.

  “And I thought Middlearth was spectacular,” Seven said breathlessly.

  “My dear Aaron,” Serea whispered into his ear, “you haven’t seen anything yet!”

  24

  The moment LP1 had docked at Pacifica, Frank Spencer, still wet and cloaked in his soggy blanket, took charge of the unloading of the platform now locked hard to Pacifica.

  “Please be patient as you depart,” he said into a microphone to be heard above the excited noise of the exiting passengers. “You will be greeted by your Pacifica liaisons seated at tables in the entranceway outside.”

  Spencer toggled the microphone off and spoke directly to Seven, Serea and Conlin. “I’m to be your liaison, of course” he said as a matter of fact.

  “We’re honored, Commander,” Seven said almost weakly, somewhat discomforted by the dripping evidence of their most recent encounter.

  Spencer shifted his eyes away and signed deeply, not at all able to hide his deepest disappointment.

  As the rear hatch opened and a brilliant beam of light from the interior of the huge subsea colony cut though the dimness of LP1, Serea leaned over and kissed Seven on his cheek. She quietly whispered, “I love you, and Frank will get used to his new boss; trust me on this.”

  Seven looked to Conlin who just slyly and discreetly smiled.

  Soon the path before them was clear and the four were the last of the passengers to depart the platform, leaving a few crewmembers behind to tidy up LP1 and configure it for its next trip to the surface. Spencer simply waved his hand with a slow sweep in the direction of the rear facing hatch as they turned and headed in its direction.

  Seven walked slowly toward the rear of the platform and stepped through its oblong opening into Pacifica . Outside were assembled a group of several dozen individuals who burst into spontaneous applause as he stepped out.

  Seven’s eyes swept the crowd and he squinted against the brilliant lights of the huge docking vestibule. As he stood on the platform leading away from LP1, Seven was immediately frozen as he witnessed first hand the full magnificence of Pacifica .

  The docking vestibule was linked, by design, to a very short, brilliantly lit tunnel that opened immediately up into the major sphere that comprised Pacifica ’s main complex and command center. From where he was standing, Seven could see the area open up before him, a vast, nearly hollowed out flattened metal framed bubble. He walked out to the edge of the tunnel so that he stood on the wall of the dome at the edge of the platform. From where they stood, they were near the bottom of the vast ball rising some 90 feet above them. Above, over four stories from their position, on the other side of the sphere was a cavernous tunnel that led away into brilliant fog. Leading directly across the orb, at the center, was a massive walkway formed like a cross that crossed the five hundred foot bubble north, south, east and west. The great walkway was suspended in the center of the enormous globe and was not apparently supported by any other structure.

  The dome of Pacifica was incredibly similar to the immense cavern of Middlearth – from its walls were suspended structures in a regular pattern all around at all levels, but the vast open space was preserved for its striking view and the raw power of its specifically engineered image – built for grandeur, architectural beauty and powerful functionality simultaneously. It was one of mankind’s few magnificent engineering marvels that had somehow managed to morph the immediacy of function with the timelessness of grace and form.

  Directly in front of them, suspended on a platform 20 feet above their heads, Seven could see the edges of a vast circle of trees around a great fountain of water that thundered up from a central gushing stream and fell back into the lush, vitally placed garden, filled with tropical leaves. Seven looked to Serea in wide-eyed astonishment.

  “That’s Pacifica ’s park,” Serea noted, watching his eyes. “We call it Central Park, of course.”

  “I can’t believe this, Serea, I just can’t,” he stammered, shaking his head as he smelled the scents of fresh forest and tropical flowers that permeated the air.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” she replied with a sly grin.

  “Don’t tell me…” he began.

  She just nodded. “Yes, it’s true.”

  “You designed this?” he asked wondrously.

  “Well, I designed the look. Others, much more capable tha
n I, actually engineered the structure. I wanted it to look like a sister to Middlearth, but in a much more dramatic sense.”

  “I just can’t believe this,” Seven repeated. “The power… it’s just breathtaking.”

  “We live up there,” Serea said, pointing to a set of structures hung high off the wall of the sphere. Like the structures of Middlearth, these were far above the row of main lights in the perpetual twilight of the lofty dome. “We have a great view of the park and beach from there.”

  “And, if you’ll follow the lines of the upper structure to the right, you’ll see the Command Center and the Command Center offices,” Spencer added, now standing beside them. “That’s where you’ll work.”

  Seven’s eyes followed up the side of the main sphere, cut with regular rows of compartments and irregular buildings set into the side of the structure. And along the side of the dome at intervals were wide rows of windows that opened up to expose the view of the ocean outside and the other lights of Pacifica’s frame that could be seen from the windows. He could make out schools of large fish swimming by the windows and even an occasional small submarine passing quickly by.

  The brilliant, carefully situated and engineered lights commanded the scene. They directed the intended view of Pacifica. The lights and the matte silver of the metal girders outlined the panorama, setting apart the human occupied areas, highlighting the power of its size, and placing the unoccupied areas away to their muted sidelines with an intended set of contrasted and diffuse shadows. The dim, deep blue ocean light filtered through carefully placed rows of windows and subdued the harshness of the white light spaces in the human mind into a perfect, peaceful, pastel blue.

  The deep greens of the lush tropical vegetation formed the perfect contrast in the center of the dome’s bottom to create the central point of the structure and finally balance the view, focusing the light and settling the subconscious meaning of its design. It was at once a cacophony of diffuse light patterns embedded in complex engineering purpose, but together it morphed into a careful illustration, a resolute vision of incomparable visual power. Yet its form and beauty all spoke a silent message – humanity would go on; mankind would not roll over and die, even in the face of an angry, violent star.

 

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