by Andrew Gates
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue Awakening
Chapter One Iris
Chapter Two Whopski
Chapter Three Orientation
Chapter Four Greyson
Chapter Five Descent
Chapter Six Council
Chapter Seven Backlash
Chapter Eight Divinity
Chapter Nine Proposition
Chapter Ten Footprints
Chapter Eleven Vitneskja
Chapter Twelve Attraction
Chapter Thirteen Border
Chapter Fourteen Tryst
Chapter Fifteen Adronitis
Chapter Sixteen Escape
Chapter Seventeen Language
Chapter Eighteen Control
Chapter Nineteen Chaos
Chapter Twenty Fallout
Chapter Twenty-One Introspection
Chapter Twenty-Two Return
Chapter Twenty-Three Parentage
Chapter Twenty-Four Resurgence
Chapter Twenty-Five Evacuation
Chapter Twenty-Six Ascension
About the Author
The following novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story have been invented by the author’s imagination and are not intended to represent anything in the real world.
First copy published for America by Kindle Direct Publishing in 2016.
The Color of Water and Sky: Book One – Iris
Copyright © 2016 by Andrew Gates
Written by Andrew Gates
Cover Art by Sarah Anderson
All rights reserved.
Thank you to everyone who helped me put this together. Thanks to Karen Thom and Dawn Chapman for your editing help, and my uncle Ron Gates for your publishing advice. The biggest thanks of all goes to my friend Sarah Anderson. You had your hand in every aspect of Iris’s creation. This book would not be what it is without you.
DARKNESS.
Darkness was all that ever shone through the thick layer of glass separating the pressurized hull of the submarine and the great deep ocean beyond its walls. Darkness was all that the captain of this small two man crew had ever known.
Sara leaned her face closer to the glass, hoping to see anything. But there was nothing to see, nothing but darkness.
“I don’t understand. What’s the point of this glass if there’s nothing to see?” asked Damien, Sara’s co-pilot. She heard him adjust himself in his cramped foam seat and straighten out his thick warm Navy jacket.
“Supposedly there is more to see up top once we get closer to the light,” Sara responded, still searching through the glass barrier for some evidence to support her words.
“Nothing our sensors couldn’t detect,” Damien retorted.
Sara knew he was right. They had been using the sub’s motion sensors and sonar this entire time. It was easy to navigate the entire way without the window. If anything, the window was a safety hazard. If something were to collide with the sub, the window would be the first to crack and depressurize the entire cabin. But Sara did not feel like challenging the wisdom of the sub’s designers so she kept quiet.
“Just do your job,” she said, trying to change the subject.
Damien grunted and adjusted in his seat again.
For a moment there was nothing but utter silence as the two sat in the cramped cabin. Sara knew that Damien was not enjoying himself. That was plain enough to tell even when he sat behind her, out of her line of sight. The sub was barely large enough for two. Its dull unpainted metallic inside was nothing pleasing to the eye and the heat was like nothing they were used to. But Sara did not want to display her own negative opinion of the vessel. She was in charge. It was best to hide her discomfort in front of her co-pilot.
A captain must appear in control, she thought to herself.
Sweat dripped down from her hands onto the black yoke of the sub. It was beginning to get slippery. Sara reached down into the pocket of her clean white Navy jacket and took out her pleather gloves. Although they would only make her hands warmer, she hoped they would help with the sweat.
A captain needs a firm grip, she reminded herself as she slipped them on.
Damien watched with confused eyes.
“Damn Sara, it’s got to be a million degrees in here. Hands cold?”
“No, not cold,” she replied. “Just wet.” Her eyes quickly glanced to the altimeter above the yoke. “Watch our ascent. Let’s make sure we’re not rising too quickly.”
“We’re fine, Sara. We’d feel it if we weren’t,” he responded.
Sara knew he was right but she felt uneasy anyway. Although she had gone out on patrol runs dozens of times, this was a new sub with a new co-pilot and a new mission. It would not hurt to be a bit overly cautious; especially since this was the highest anyone from the Atlantic had traveled since the Descent. Soon they would be entering new territory, a new height unvisited for years.
“How close are we to the line, Damien?” she asked. “I can’t remember the depth.”
“Previously the line was set at 300 meters.”
Sara glanced at the altimeter. The analog indicator bounced around 341 meters. They were almost there.
“Hard to believe how fast we got here,” Damien said. “You’d think people would go up here more often.”
“It’s not safe,” Sara responded. “The change in pressure makes it difficult for most vehicles to travel this high. It’s hard to make a machine that can travel in deep ocean, medium ocean and shallow ocean all at once.”
“Pssh,” Damien said as he shrugged. He adjusted in his seat once again. “They all used to do it once. How do you think we got down here?”
Damien was starting to get sassy. Sara was not fond of this kind of attitude but she was relieved to know that they were almost done. She knew she could not take his brashness for long. At least he’s been good until now.
“We had more resources in those days. Plus we were desperate. It’s amazing what people can engineer when necessity calls.”
Sara glanced towards the window once again, hoping to see a glimmer of light. But she still saw only darkness. If it weren’t for the dim lighting of the hull, she knew she would see nothing more than her own reflection.
The captain imagined how she must have looked. She was covered in sweat and stuffed into a warm white jacket, a size too small for her already small body. Clothing sizes ran small for everybody in the Navy. She assumed they did that on purpose to promote fitness. If you gain any weight, you won’t even fit in your clothes. That must’ve been the Navy’s thinking, she thought.
“It’s getting warmer,” Damien said.
Sara knew he was right. She could feel it too.
“Do you mind if I unzip this damn jacket?” he asked.
Sara turned in her chair and looked back at her co-pilot, studying him to make sure he was not bluffing. He was a young man, probably about four or five years younger than her, though she could not be sure. He had already removed his cap and placed it on the foam armrest of the chair. His tightly trimmed blond hair was dripping with sweat and his cool eyes stood out in contrast to his bright pink face.
“Permission granted,” she said, trying to maintain her professionalism. She turned forward again, facing the wall of darkness before her. “Your face is flushed. You’re getting hot.”
She heard him unzip the jacket, take it off and set it down on the armrest with the cap. He let out a sigh of relief as if he had just felt comfortable for the first time in hours.
“You don’t look so good yourself, Sara,” he said. “Maybe you should do the same.”
&nb
sp; “Is this just a way for you to see me without my clothes on?” she asked.
Damien chuckled. She imagined a great big grin on his face.
“Not at all. If you could see yourself you’d agree with me. There’s no sense bluffing, Captain. You don’t have to act professional to impress me. It’s not like I’m going to report you. Plus who the fuck would care anyway? Like the officers would even give a shit,” he replied.
Putting up with Damien’s sass was one thing but his choice of words was another. Sara was never a big fan of foul language. It was uncultured and uncivilized. This was the Navy, not a gang.
“Point taken, Damien, but I could do without the expletives. Let’s just do that for my sake, okay?” she responded, giving up with trying to be professional at this point.
“Deal,” he said. “300 meters by the way. We’ve just crossed the line.”
Sara glanced at the altimeter. He was right. This was unexplored territory from here on out.
“We’re setting our own line now,” she added.
Taking Damien’s advice, she removed her cap and set it beside her. She reached back and undid her tight bun, letting her sweaty government-black hair fall down over her pale, flour colored face. She quickly brushed it aside so she could see and unzipped her jacket.
“I see you’ve taken my advice,” said Damien happily.
She removed her gloves and placed them into her jacket pocket and then removed the entire jacket altogether, revealing her grey tank top pressed tightly against her body thanks to all the sweat.
“Wow! Now there’s something to look at!” Damien added enthusiastically.
She felt his eyes on her, annoyed. She was a fit 30-year-old Navy woman with Italian ancestry. Even here, far away from civilization, she was still not safe from men’s taunts.
“I don’t need this from you right now, Damien. How old are you?” she asked.
“What? No, not that, Captain. Look!” She heard him lean forward in his chair behind her as if he was pointing forward.
That was when Sara saw it too. Damien was not watching her, but rather a small glimmer of white light through the window. Finally, something to see in the darkness.
Sara quickly glanced down at the monitor, studying the motion sensor. Nothing was detected. Whatever she saw was too far away. She looked over at the sonar instead.
“Do you know what it is?” Damien asked.
“I don’t know. It’s too far away for the motion sensor.”
The sonar started to ping. One ping. Then another. Then another. An image began to fill up on the screen. It was small, probably nothing worth worrying about, but certainly bigger than a fish.
“Whatever it is, it looks closer through the window than it does on the screen,” he said.
Sara looked up at the window again. He was right. Whatever it was, the light seemed to be right in front of them. But according to the reading, this object was over 200 meters away.
“Should we be using passive sonar?” Damien asked.
“Active sonar is fine. I doubt it’s hostile. We’re too far from the other stations. Nobody would attack us out here.”
Damien adjusted in his seat again. She could hear the foam pressing up against the heavy weight of his body as he leaned forward.
“But what if you’re wrong?” he asked. “When’s the last time we’ve heard any word from the other two stations? Maybe they’re out here. Maybe they’ve been watching us up here this whole time. What if we’ve just been sitting right below these little fuckers?”
She turned and made eye contact with her co-pilot, her dark black eyes piercing his light ones. Sara did not have time for his paranoia and nonsense.
“What did I say about the expletives, Damien?” she asked with a stern tone of voice.
Damien leaned back again and ran his fingers through his short hair. He exhaled and nodded his head.
“Yes, yes, sorry,” he replied. He hated being silenced like this. Sara could sense the frustration in his voice, but she needed to maintain a level of leadership and control.
Sara turned around again and studied the monitors once more. They were moving closer and closer to the mysterious object. She returned her attention to the window. As they neared, the light grew brighter and brighter. She could start to make out its shape from here: a perfect sphere.
“We’re at 250 meters below sea level. Let’s watch it,” Damien said, bringing Sara’s focus back to the altimeter.
They were rising too quickly. The captain was letting this mysterious object distract her from her job. She was surprised she had not noticed the change in pressure.
“Let’s stay at this level for a while,” she said. “Keep it at 250.”
“Roger that.”
Sara waved her hand in front of the touch screen monitor to her right to wake it up. Lights flickered on. She tapped the icon for the Meganet and waited as the program loaded.
“What are you doing?” Damien asked, watching her.
“I’m loading up the Meganet. We need to contact the station, tell them about this orb,” she responded.
The mission was supposed to be simple: to test the new sub prototype at 200 meters below sea level. This was one for the scientists, not the Navy. But the engineers had no sailors, only designers. Sara and Damien were never supposed to find anything up here, especially not mysterious glowing orbs.
It only took a few moments for the program to load. The sub had its own direct connection to the Meganet in case of emergency. As the program’s icons loaded up, Sara typed in the code to her commander in charge.
“It’s giving off a lot of heat,” Damien said, distracting Sara from the program. “I’m reading water temperatures coming from the orb at 500 degrees Celsius. Whatever that is, it’s boiling the ocean water.”
“Generating steam on the surface,” Sara stated to herself under her breath.
After a few moments of dialing, the image of Commander Grey appeared on screen. A fitting name for a man in his 50’s whose hair and beard had long turned grey. He resembled the ideal military man. He had a strong, wise face and always looked sure of himself. He stared back at Sara through the camera, surprised to be getting her call.
“Captain Gessetti,” the commander said, standing tall in his polished white uniform. Sara suddenly remembered that she had removed her own uniform. She hoped he would not mind, but rather doubted it.
“Commander Grey, hold on while I move your image to the main screen.”
Sara darkened the glass window in front of her and activated the digital projection, expanding the images from the touchscreen monitor onto the surface of the window. His face now lit up the entire cabin of the sub like an omnipotent god.
“That’s better. Now I can see you more clearly,” she said, looking up at him.
Commander Grey nodded and studied the inside of the cabin, most likely taking note of his two pilots out of uniform.
“What is this about, Captain?” he asked.
Before Sara could continue, Damien cut in and responded.
“Sir, we’ve reached 250 feet below sea level just outside of the Puerto Rico Trench. But we’ve encountered something. Some sort of unidentified object,” he said.
Commander Grey appeared annoyed.
“I asked your commander, not you, Saljov. You’re supposed to be ascending to 200 meters and returning. This is not meant to be an exploratory mission.”
Sara looked back at Damien and gave him an annoyed expression, then turned and faced the projection of her commander again.
“I apologize for Saljov’s interruption, sir, but he is right about the object. This object we discovered is concerning. It appears to be an orb of light and it is giving off extraordinary levels of heat, boiling the water around it. I can only predict this unidentified object must be manmade. I can’t think of anything natural that gives off that much energy. How do you want us to proceed?” she replied, hoping that she got the message across while still behaving appropriatel
y.
“Does the object appear hostile?” asked the commander.
“We have it in our sights through the window, sir,” Damien added, out of turn once again.
“On screen,” the commander requested.
Sara tapped the appropriate buttons to flip the camera around so that Commander Grey saw the same thing that they did. At this point the orb was so close that its bright light was almost blinding.
“Okay Captain, flip it back before we both go blind.”
Sara flipped the camera again and the commander’s face filled up the screen.
“Well that’s certainly something,” replied Grey. “Get as close to it as you can and take a scan. Proceed with caution and report back to us once you’re finished. I want this kept top secret. You understand? Your orders have changed. Get in, scan the device and report back to us. This is now a scouting mission. The scientists can test their depths later.”
“Roger that,” Sara replied.
“Roger,” added Damien.
“Oh and Sara, try to display some professionalism. Just because you’re far from home base doesn’t mean you can swim around in your bra. This is the Navy, not a colored zone.”
And with Grey’s final words, the screen went blank as he hung up. She knew he would say something about the uniform, but was surprised he referred to a tank top as a bra. Sara turned off the digital projection and the touchscreen monitor with it. The light from the orb came into the window once again, casting shadows every which way inside the sub.
The captain had to hold her left hand up above her eyes just to see forward. She turned towards the window controls and searched for a button she never expected to use. As she reached up and pressed it, she began to feel even hotter.
So this is where all that damn heat was coming from.
As her fingers left the button, a light shield came down and covered the front of the window, making it much easier to see. Ironic. Just a few moments ago she welcomed the light, but now she wanted nothing more than to return to the darkness.
Whatever it was, it was the brightest thing she had ever seen. It must be artificial, she thought. There was nothing she knew of in nature that could produce such light. Perhaps Damien had been right. Is it a device from another station? If so, what is it doing here so close to the Atlantic Station? Too many questions, not enough answers.
