Masters of the Broken Watches

by Razi Imam

  Maria pointed at the opening, then toward her dive computer. Sebastian nodded and gave her the signal to continue on. She ordinarily appreciated Sebastian’s confidence, but he was seriously jeopardizing the safety of his team and himself.

  The team kept following him, and although it appeared they were swimming deeper into the creature, their depth gauges didn’t indicate any change. Maria realized they had also lost their spatial orientation. Her dive computer was not making any sense—she didn’t know if they were swimming down, up, or laterally.

  Then the entire Rahpido wall started pulsating, and the area around them turned greenish-blue. The wall converged around them, forming a tunnel, and soon they were no longer swimming—they glided along the walls of this newly formed Rahpido tunnel, propelled either by current or some mechanism of the life form. Maria checked her watch, marking one minute since she’d last grabbed Sebastian by the shoulder.

  ***

  BACK ON THE boat, Shiloh paced around the bridge. Through the monitors they had witnessed clouds of glittering sands being expelled. The swirls, the walls, and the abyss had faded and the cavern was closed. The water had become dark again—the maroon luminescence had disappeared. He had switched on the underwater lights, and they couldn’t see beyond twenty feet.

  Shiloh and Michelangelo stepped out on the deck. It had been ninety minutes since they had last seen the team disappear into the swirling funnel. “I’m getting really worried they don’t have enough oxygen to be underwater for so long,” Shiloh said, checking the surrounding water.

  “Remember, they may have experienced some form of time dilation while coming in contact with that thing. For us it has been ninety minutes. For them it may have been just a few minutes,” Michelangelo said and then changed the topic. “How far did you say we are from the lagoon?”

  Shiloh squinted trying to focus through the darkness. “Almost the same as before, about a mile, give or take. Why?”

  “Are you game for a boat ride? We have to get to the lagoon,” Michelangelo said.

  “Why?” Shiloh asked.

  “I think it’s the El Sitio particles we were exposed to in the maroon sea. I have that same premonitory feeling we experienced back at the hangar,” Michelangelo explained.

  “Okay, what is it?” Shiloh asked anxiously.

  “I think, I have a role to play,” Michelangelo hypothesized. “Remember how the particle works—maybe someone on the dive team is thinking the same thing I am, and we’ve connected. I am not sure. I have a strong feeling we need to get to the lagoon.”

  “Okay, let’s go,” Shiloh said.

  Michelangelo confirmed the Skjold’s stealth mode and requested that Adora and Pham Kai keep an eye on the monitors. In short order using their RIB, Shiloh and Michelangelo reached the lagoon.

  Michelangelo moved rapidly through the vegetation, stopping to let Shiloh catch up. He also carried the last pair of oxygen tanks—something told him he would need them. After about an hour, they stepped into the clearing where they had a clear view of the dune.

  It was now almost three hours since the team had gone missing. Shiloh followed Michelangelo up the sand dune, hoping in his heart that the team would be sitting safely on the other side. The last twenty feet, they ran to the top, out of breath and searching wildly.

  The lagoon was dark, the water still. They couldn’t see anything. Michelangelo was half expecting to see the same phenomenon he had seen during the day, with the transparent water. It would have made it much easier to find the team. He pointed his flashlight at the lagoon, switching it on and off several times—a signaling technique. Shiloh applied the less sophisticated method, yelling their names.

  Michelangelo’s hand shot up to his pocket. His satellite phone was buzzing.

  ***

  INSIDE THE LIFE form, Sebastian and the team were still gliding through the Rahpido tunnel. Maria was tracking their time carefully, mindful of how long they could stay down. It had now been eight minutes. The Rahpido tunnel was at least fifteen feet across, and it was lit by a pulsating blue luminescence. Maria saw that they were in some kind of self-contained ecosystem, almost like a pod compatible with carbon-based life forms. And it wasn’t they who were gliding through the tunnel—this newly formed pod was doing the traveling, with all of them inside it. It was biological in nature, with transparent walls, almost like glass. They were still underwater, but the pod itself was part of the Rahpido tunnel. It was quite like the pulsating spheres they saw in the tubes connected to the red oval mass.

  She tapped Charles on the shoulder and pointed to his bag, making a gesture with her hand. He realized she wanted him to use the Doppler device to gauge how fast they were traveling, so he took it out and pointed it toward the tunnel wall. What he saw made no sense. He flicked the on/off switch and pointed it again for a second reading. Shocked, he handed it to Maria.

  They were traveling at a blinding 760 miles per hour. The pod was keeping them safe from G-forces, acting like an inertia damper to keep them from being bounced around. Coupled with the effects of the Rahpido particles—allowing them to experience minutes compared to hours in the outside world.

  They kept twisting and turning for another five minutes in their relative time. Maria saw she was getting low on air, when pod stopped moving and the wall opened up onto a shallow seabed. The pod they were in dissipated and they were soon floating in normal seawater, the opening they had just emerged from a few yards below them.

  This opening wasn’t the same as the one they had found at Bombay Reef—it was a blue-green luminescent circle, lighting up the ocean around them, with obsidian crystal spikes in a hexagonal formation around it.

  Dazed, the team swam to the surface and removed their masks. Fabienne, still holding her bag of time nodules, was trying to get her bearings, splashing around wildly. “Oh, my God, what just happened?” The team had fallen quiet. She faced Charles, Maria, and Nidal, who appeared to be in shock. Fabienne turned around, following their gaze and let out a scream.

  A few hundred yards away sat the unmistakable outline of the Sydney Opera House. They had just traveled from Bombay Reef to Sydney Harbor in a relative time of thirteen minutes.

  Sebastian swam over to Fabienne and put his arms around her. “It’s okay, we’re fine.” He then turned to others. “You guys okay?”

  Charles was still staring at the Opera House, barely able to nod.

  Maria asked the most obvious question. “What’s wrong with you? You broke away from the group!”

  “I know, and I’m very sorry,” Sebastian said, embarrassed. “I couldn’t risk losing the opportunity.”

  “How did you know this was going to happen?” Nidal asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Sebastian said. “It’s hard to explain. When I touched the giant red mass, I felt something, as if the life form had somehow communicated. It wasn’t telepathy—it was more like a transfer of information. I think it lives deep beneath the surface of the Earth, and these tubular tunnels are connected to the obsidian crystal formations.”

  “So, how did we get to Sydney?” Nidal asked.

  “I’m not sure about that either,” Sebastian admitted. “I saw flashes of images. Most of them didn’t make any sense. I did however recognize locations. And one of them was Sydney Harbor. I knew if I thought about the location and went down the Rahpido wall, I’d somehow end up reaching it. I know it doesn’t make any logical sense.”

  “Couldn’t you think of a place closer to Bombay Reef?” Nidal asked. “And wait a minute, we all touched the red mass, none of us felt anything. Why is it you’re the one with this information? And what was that we traveled in? According to Charles’s device, we were traveling over seven hundred miles an hour.”

  “Nidal,” Sebastian replied, “I really don’t have answers for you. Once we get back, we’ll figure out the science behind it all.”

  “So, how do we get back, Peter Pan?” Maria demanded, still upset with his risky move.

  “I
guess I’ll think of the obsidian crystals near our boat and then touch the walls,” Sebastian replied. “In theory, that would take us back.”

  Maria shook her head in disbelief, turning toward the others. “Check your oxygen. What’s your meter reading?”

  “1200 PSIs,” Nidal said.

  “800 PSIs,” Charles said next.

  “500,” Fabienne blurted out.

  “1000,” Sebastian replied.

  “1000 PSIs,” Maria finished. “If we go back the way we came, we’ll need a minimum of thirteen minutes.”

  “Not if we exit in the lagoon at Bombay Reef instead of the cavern, those Obsidian boulders are actually another opening.” Sebastian said. “It’ll shave three to four minutes off the return journey.”

  The team exchanged an uneasy stare. This whole connection between Sebastian and the life form was getting weird.

  Ignoring what she was thinking, Maria said, “Well, we still need oxygen for Fabienne, who’s at 500 PSIs, and Charles, who has 800. That is, if everything goes perfectly according to plan.”

  “I’ll share my tank with Fabienne when she runs out,” Sebastian suggested.

  “And I’ll share my tank with Charles,” Nidal offered.

  “It’s incredibly risky,” Maria said. “I guess we’ll have to make it work.”

  “Nidal,” Sebastian said, “see if your satphone is still working and call Michelangelo. Tell him to meet us at the lagoon.”

  Nidal unzipped a waterproof bag and pulled out his phone. He found several missed calls from Michelangelo and Shiloh. “Guys,” he said while dialing Michelangelo, “I think the other team has been trying to get ahold of us. If it’s been less than thirty minutes since we first started the dive, it’s been over three hours in real time.”

  “Sydney?” Michelangelo’s voice came through the speakerphone. “Sydney, Australia? What the hell are you guys doing in Sydney, Australia? That’s three thousand miles from here. How did you even get there in three hours? And what about your oxygen?”

  “We’ll explain everything when we get back,” Nidal answered.

  Maria asked for the phone. “Michelangelo, I’m not sure how this will play out, but we should be resurfacing in the lagoon about three hours from now, about seven or eight in the morning, your time. Be ready with oxygen tanks.”

  “We’re already at the lagoon, and we have the oxygen tanks,” Michelangelo replied, still in disbelief. “We figured you guys might show up here.”

  “Thanks, good thinking,” Maria said, handing the phone back to Nidal.

  “Okay, let’s head back,” Sebastian said, then pulled his mask back on and adjusted his regulator.

  They swam down to the opening of the life form. This time, Sebastian was with Fabienne, and Nidal was with Charles. Maria swam in between the four of them.

  As soon as they entered, Sebastian floated close to the wall and touched it with both hands. The wall pulsated. They started to swim deeper, and the same behavior repeated itself. They started to shoot through the tunnel, turning and twisting in a self-contained marine pod.

  Sebastian kept an eye on Fabienne and her oxygen monitor, and Nidal did the same with Charles. Five minutes into their journey, Sebastian took a slow breath and handed his regulator to Fabienne, who took hers out and grabbed his.

  Maria checked her pressure meter. Once again, it wasn’t registering any changes. Even if they were going deep inside the earth to come out the other side, the life form was maintaining an ecosystem conducive to their survival.

  Nine minutes in, the tunnel opened up into the seabed of the lagoon. The team had approximately a minute till they ran out of oxygen in their collective tanks. They swam out of the opening, and realized they could not reach the surface.

  Nidal recognized what had happened. Given that the obsidian spikes and boulders were ancient, a geological dome covered the natural floor of the lagoon. The team was stuck between the lagoon seabed and the dome and they had all taken their last deep breath.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Trouble Onboard

  “We fight a fierce war within.

  What’s the point of fighting with others?”

  ~ Rumi

  CAPTAIN DRAKE UNDERSTOOD the significance of his mission, but he was still having difficulty moving against a group of American scientists. His XO was off duty, and he wanted to have an off-the-record conversation regarding their mission.

  John Paul Jones, the XO of Bainbridge, was in the gym, working out on an elliptical machine, a TV remote in his hand. Every time he switched the channel to ESPN, it would automatically jump to a channel playing Judge Judy.

  He preferred to distract his mind while he worked out, and watching sports did that for him. After about forty-five minutes, he got off the elliptical, frustrated. He made his way to the mess hall to refill his water bottle with juice and to see what was on the menu.

  The mess hall wasn’t too busy. Most of the tables were empty, and he realized he’d already missed the main dinner rush. The tables were covered with blue plastic tablecloths with the words, READY TO ROLL printed on them in red. There was a rather large bulletin board with a Sailor of Distinction sign on it. Several pictures of distinguished sailors were tacked on it. Next to it was a flat-screen TV with cables dangling from it, similar to the one in the gym. To his surprise, Judge Judy was on it as well. What’s with this show? he wondered, filling his water bottle.

  To the side of the fountain lay the standard dinner buffet with several meat dishes like pork chops, beef tenderloin, and barbecue chicken, paired with several vegetable dishes and rice. The chef had also added cheeseburgers, fries, and a platter of small pizzas. That was a change—John was expecting macaroni and cheese. He loved a plate of macaroni and cheese after a good workout. He peered through the window to the galley and called out to the chef, who snapped a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

  “At ease,” John responded. “Why don’t we have macaroni and cheese today?”

  The chef, looking a bit flustered, blurted out, “Sir, the boiler stopped working for some reason. I’m having the electrician look at it. I had to even microwave the rice. Sir, we have a different menu for the officer’s mess. Don’t you want to eat there?”

  John knew it was a polite hint for him to leave, but he liked the menu in the main mess hall. He made his way to his cabin, noticing a group of sailors running down a corridor. He stopped, wondering where they were heading. Another sailor ran past him. “Sailor, what’s the rush?” he almost snapped.

  “Oh, sorry, sir,” the sailor said, coming to a halt with a salute. “The game is about to start, and we’re headed to the break room.”

  “Okay, no need to run,” John replied. The last thing he wanted to deal with was an unnecessary injury during a live mission.

  Just as he turned to go, he heard voices yelling from the break room. “What the fuck is wrong with this thing? Why does it keep switching to Judge Judy?”

  John smiled, making his way back to his cabin. He no sooner stepped in than his intercom buzzed. Captain Drake’s voice came through. “XO, please join me in my office.”

  He pressed the intercom button. “Aye, sir. I’ll meet you in zero ten minutes.” He showered and changed into his navy-appointed cargo pants and blue T-shirt with the U.S. Navy seal printed on the chest. He was off duty, and he knew Drake wouldn’t want to see him in uniform.

  Ten minutes later, he knocked on the door of the captain’s office. “Come in,” Captain Drake’s muffled voice came through the door.

  Captain Drake was a man of taste. He had three leather sofas placed in a U-shaped pattern on a large, handmade Turkish rug. He had framed historic documents on one wall, with a large scale model of the USS Bainbridge mounted in the middle of them. On the side sat a credenza with bottles of whisky and gin, along with a martini shaker and glassware placed on a tray. He also had a small kitchen on the side with a large dining table that also worked as a conference table for meetings. On the other side of the
room was a rather large mahogany desk with a glass top. It appeared to be an antique, featuring beautifully carved wood with inlay patterns in a lighter stain.

  Captain Drake sat on the single sofa with a drink in his hand—whisky with two ice cubes. He gestured for John to take a seat. He lifted his glass questioningly. John, who had yet to eat dinner, declined.

  “XO, what do you think of the mission we’re on?” Drake asked, getting right to the point.

  “What do you mean, sir?” John responded with a hint of hesitation.

  “I mean,” Drake said, “we’re going into hostile waters to apprehend a group of American scientists to retrieve a specimen they’ve discovered. It seems wrong.” He paused, shaking his head and taking a sip of whisky. “I respect the secretary of defense, but such aggression toward our own civilians isn’t sitting too well with me. Additionally, I’ve been reading the research documents the secretary sent over. This group works for Doctor Cebrián Alveraz, a highly respected and influential academic and researcher, and a favorite of not only the current president, but past presidents as well.” He took another sip from his glass. “Did you know he spearheaded the creation and passage of a bipartisan, $300 million budget proposal for his research? I’m not sure what’s happening here, but I think we’re involved in some kind of political drama.”

  John was surprised by Captain Drake’s candid commentary. “Sir, you’ve given us specific orders to use force to neutralize the team, if necessary,” he reminded him.

  “I know,” Drake whispered. “And I fully intend to see our orders carried out.” He paused again, seeming to come to a decision. “XO, this specimen can control time.”

  John had always kept a tight rein on his emotions, but his eyes grew large. He stared at Drake as if he were joking. “What do you mean, sir, ‘control time?’ ”

  “I mean exactly what I said,” Drake responded. “They found a fish that has the ability to speed up and slow down time.”