by Suzanne Robb
He didn't care anymore, didn't care one bit about what was going on, even though this was his sub- a fact that he was quick to point out until it came to actual decision making or dealing with a problem. When things arose that he didn't like, he turned to his trusty bottle and waited for the rest of the crew to take care of it.
She knew this Johnny guy was going to make her life hell. He slipped up when he said Kramer's name. He was petrified now that she would dig into it, and he was right, of course. If he kept popping up and hovering around her, it would drive her mad. She needed to figure out a way to stop it.
Nina looked up when Ivan entered. He wore the same expressionless face he always did. She briefly wondered if he might be paralyzed or have some terrible disease that prevented him from making facial expressions. She watched him walk to the fridge and pull out something to drink, a rehydratable juice from the looks of it. He then went to the cupboard and pulled out an energy bar.
Ivan glanced around the room and zeroed in on an empty table in the back of the room. As he passed Nina's table, she kicked out a chair. He stared down at it and then glanced over to her.
"I don't like eating alone." Ivan reluctantly took the chair and sat at the table with her.
She watched as he opened his juice and dropped in the hydration tab. He got about half a cup. He opened his energy bar slowly, his movements precise and slow. He watched her in return.
"You are Nina, the other diver."
"Yep, so what do you know about the other diver?" Casual and subtle were two words she could not get into her vocabulary.
"What do I need to know about you?"
"Me? Nothing except what's in the file. I gamble, have some problems with authority, daddy issues are in there somewhere I'm sure, and I'm the best damn diver you'll ever meet." Ivan took a casual sip of his drink and chewed on a chunk of his energy bar.
"Yes, many of those things are in your file, but what isn't in it that I should know?"
"Tell me what you know about Kramer's screw-up." Her statement brought an expression to Ivan's face, only for a second, but she saw it.
"I do not know what you are talking about." Ivan finished his drink and shoved the rest of the energy bar in his mouth.
"Funny, I heard he was part of a major screw-up. Guess I'll have to ask someone else." Nina pointed her fork at him to emphasize her point, and a bit of noodle flew across the table and landed on Ivan's shirt.
"Where did you get this information? If you have broken into classified files, I will have you up on charges." Ivan flicked the noodle, looking at it as if it were the most offensive thing he'd ever laid eyes on.
"Buddy, we're miles away from shore and heading to the freaking Hadal zone, where we'll most likely die. Do you really think charges scare me?"
"Tell me who told you this, and I will tell you what I know about the other diver."
"Fine, Ventura spilled the beans on Kramer after he scored some squish. He's a total addict, so don't try to throw me that bone. He's also an egomaniac. I just want to know if he's a good diver or not. I have no intention of dying because some jackass thinks he's God."
"His file indicates he is an adequate enough diver for this job. His drug use has been monitored and seems to be under control."
"That's it? That's all you got? Are you joking? Christ, you aren't telling me anything."
"I am telling you what I know. Now please tell me what you mean by 'spilled the beans.' What did he tell you?"
"I don't know. He was out of it. Something about his jobs going well but not Kramer's."
"Sounds like jealousy to me. I would not pay any attention to his comments."
"Look, Ivan, I don't trust you. I know you're lying to me. So let's break it down. What's this Kramer business about? Someone else I need to worry about? You know it's hard enough to know we're going on a job half of us think will sink this sub, and to know the other half are drug addicts and liars doesn't make it any better."
"Kramer is not someone you need to worry about. In fact, I would forget you ever heard anything happened, for your own good. Consider this warning a favour. You only get one." Ivan looked mad, and Nina decided she preferred it when he was stone faced.
At that, Ivan stood and left the room.
"Looks like someone likes to have the last word."
Nina went back to stabbing her noodles and trying to devise a plan to find out about this Kramer fellow. She never did take warnings seriously. She tried to take a bite of her noodles, but started to feel sick.
Chapter Eight
Tom sat on his bunk, arms crossed over his stomach. He hated this part, the first few moments of a job. He always got anxious and claustrophobic. He took deep breaths as he waited for an old med tab to dissolve, and the visions continued. Nothing seemed to be working this time. They weren't easing up. He wasn't entirely sure that what he was going through this time was anxiety related.
Images of death and drowning flashed before his eyes. People screaming at him for help while he simply sat there motionless.
He stood up and started to pace the short length of his room. He only got in about three good strides before he needed to turn around and start the whole process over again.
This went on for several minutes, until the most horrific picture went through his mind. A vision of blood, his children covered in blood. His children became horrible ravenous monsters, eating the flesh of others. He ran out of his room and headed towards the med lab.
***
Doctor Williams sat at the desk provided to her. She flipped through the medical files to see what maladies she should be prepared to deal with. Thankfully, progress made in recent years had eradicated most of the serious illnesses. The most complex things she would have to deal with were headaches, upset stomachs, and the rare case of nerves. All things easily handled with a shot or a pill.
Good for her, since if anything truly severe happened, she would have to answer some pretty important questions about her abilities- or lack thereof.
She closed the files when the door flew open and slammed against the wall, almost causing her to fall out of the chair. In front of her stood a sweaty and trembling Tom Simon.
Maxine eyed Tom and knew it was a case of nerves from his records. The file, however, did not indicate the severity. A simple pill wasn't going to help this guy out at all.
"Help me, please? I don't know what's wrong with me." Tom entered the room, his eyes darting around maniacally.
Maxine stood up, and in a voice as calm as she could manage, said, "Tom, it's going to be fine. You just have some anxiety going on. I'm going to give you a shot and make it go away."
Tom just stared at her. He paced as sweat drenched his body.
"Tom, is it okay if I give you a shot?" Tom stopped pacing and stared at her.
Then he jerked and started his pacing again. Maxine went to the supply closet and pulled out a pre-wrapped syringe filled with a substance called Valanax. Usually it did the trick at times like this, and the effect lasted longer than that of med tabs. She turned and started to walk over to him.
Tom stared at her as if she were an alien. The fear in his eyes grew exponentially with every step she took.
"Get that crap away from me, you monster. Who the hell are you?"
Maxine stayed close to her desk and hit the intercom. She wasn't sure what room she was letting listen in; she just hoped someone was on the other end to listen.
If she wanted, she could take Tom down in less than three seconds. However, it would be hard to explain to the others how she was able to do it- not to mention the fact that he'd be dead.
"Tom, I need you to calm down, take some deep breaths. You're on the Betty Loo. My name is Maxine, we met earlier. Do you remember?"
"The screaming, can you make the screaming stop? The blood. Oh God, the blood, it's everywhere. My children are monsters eating the flesh of others. For the love of God, make it stop."
"Tom, your children aren't here, and there's no blo
od at all. Please try to calm down." Maxine took another step closer.
"You crazy bitch, how can you not see it? It's everywhere: the walls, the floor, my hands."
"Tom, please relax. You need to relax. There's absolutely nothing wrong; you just have a case of the nerves. Very common in people who spend a great deal of time under water."
Maxine watched in relief as Kramer quietly entered the room behind Tom.
One moment, Tom was ranting. The next, Kramer tackled him to the ground and Maxine plunged the needle into his arm. The medication knocked Tom out within seconds. Kramer helped her carry Tom over to one of the cots.
The two of them panted with the effort it took to drag him across the room and then lift him onto the bed.
"You okay?" Kramer seemed genuinely concerned.
Good actor, she thought.
"I'm fine, more concerned about him."
"That's easy. He's gone off the wall."
"He gets anxious before jobs. Perhaps this was a severe case."
"I've seen anxiety, lady, and that was pure terror. What the hell was the talk of all the blood? Blood on his hands, and his kids are monsters? Did he kill his family or something? What do we really know about this guy?"
"The people in charge knew enough to hire him with no hesitation, so I don't think we need to worry." Maxine fluffed the pillow and picked up Tom's wrist like she was checking his pulse.
"Yeah, well if I were you, I'd keep him in restraints until you know he's got his playing cards back in proper order."
Kramer left the room. Maxine stood looking down at Tom. She had to admit she had never seen a case of the nerves this bad before. This seemed different somehow.
She wondered if someone on board were trying to sabotage the operation using some sort of bioweapon to immobilize the crew. The symptoms were all wrong, though. Tom wasn't immobilized; he was amped up. Then again, who knew how they planned to ruin things?
She hated to admit it, but Kramer was right. Until she knew Tom was okay, he needed to be restrained.
She walked to the cot on which he lay and opened the drawer above it. The restraints were metal, but covered in white cloth so the restrained individual would not hurt himself. She attached them to the cot, the wall, and finally to Tom. She went to her desk when she was finished, typed up a quick report, and sent it to the captain.
Looking at Tom, she noticed he still struggled a bit, which was highly unusual after a dose of Valanax. She decided to run some tests to make sure there wasn't some sort of environmental toxin on board. Her knowledge was limited, but thankfully this was what they'd trained her to do.
***
Kramer stood in the hallway, looking back at the med lab. He had no idea what the hell just happened, but he was damn sure it wasn't a case of nerves. Whatever Tom had caught scared the crap out of him. He knew terror. He had seen it before, many times.
The symptoms were a bit different, and the onset a hell of a lot quicker, but it was eerily similar. Total encompassing fear, delusions, profuse sweating, not making sense, and the eventual need to be sedated or worse. He sure as hell hoped Maxine restrained the guy. If what he suspected was true, Tom was going to be a hell of a lot stronger when he woke up.
As he entered his research lab, he slammed the door. It just couldn't be. No way. It was impossible. Everything had been destroyed, all the infected were killed, and he was the only one who knew how to synthesize TM-64. What the hell was going on?
People were going to start getting sick, and the only cure was death. He had to get a sample of Tom's blood and test it. If they were dealing with another outbreak, they needed to turn back now before they all died.
***
Iain sprawled across his bed, an empty whiskey bottle dangling from his hand. A beep made him twitch, and a longer beep made him open one eye. On his display pane, a message flashed from Doctor Williams, red flagged.
Great, only out of dock a few hours and she was already sending him urgent reports. Fantastic. Just what he needed: an overly helpful doctor.
"Read file, low volume." Iain closed his eyes as he listened to the report.
Captain, I'm not going to waste too much time with this report. The basics are that Tom Simon came into my med lab, raving like a lunatic about blood and flesh. Doctor Kramer and I subdued him, and I administered a sedative. I'm unsure at this time what caused his behaviour, but I'm running some tests.
Iain had both eyes open when the report was done. An unusual and bad way to start a job, if he was honest with himself, which he would be when he was sober. For now, he would go with the whole this is a bad thing, which meant he only trusted one person. Ally.
"Forward file to Ally; flag for her eyes only," Now all he had to do was get up, drink some coffee, talk to Ally, and then see how Tom was doing.
A deep sigh emanated from his chest. A whole lot to do when all he really wanted was to sleep until this rescue was over. He dropped the bottle from his hand and pushed himself up. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face.
"Right, then. Coffee."
***
Ally looked up as her display panel lit up with a red-flagged message from Iain. How in the hell was there an issue this early into a job? She decided to manually review the file in case someone walked in.
She read it over, not really understanding why it had been sent to her. Tom cracked up; it happened all the time in sub pilots. They think they're hot shit, then they get an assignment taking them somewhere new or dangerous and freak out.
If Iain thought she was going to hold Tom's hand to get him through this, he had another think coming. She was just as worried about the area and the depth to which they were going. Plus, she was still mad at him.
***
Iain grabbed a cold cup of coffee from the rec room, saw Nina passed out in her dinner, decided to ignore her, and headed to the control room. He could see Ally finishing up the file he'd sent her.
"What do you think?"
Ally turned towards him. "Simple, he cracked under the pressure."
"What if it's more than that? The doc sounded a little too worried on the recording."
"She's probably just a worrywart, Iain. Remember the last doc we had, who thought the ingrown hair on Dutch was smallpox?"
"Yeah, but it was also his first time out, Maxine's been around; her file is as thick as my leg. She doesn't strike me as the type who gets unnerved so easily."
"I know she has great recommendations and citations, and has helped lots of people, but it doesn't mean she isn't a worrywart."
"I'm not even going to ask how you read her file."
"Iain, you know I do it, and you like that I do, because you know I'll catch something you missed." Ally turned in her seat to look at him more directly.
Iain stood in the middle of the room, holding his cup of coffee. His hair was messy, and he needed a shave.
"Point taken, but I still don't like this Tom thing."
"Why don't you go and check on him? It's not like I can do anything from here."
"I know, just wanted some input and perspective."
"Tom cracked up; doc is a worrywart."
"Thanks, Ally. I can always count on you."
"Bring me a coffee next time."
"Deal." Iain left the control room and made his way down the aisle way towards the med lab.
He wasn't sure what he planned to do when he got there, but it felt like a captain thing to do. As he walked down the aisle way, he heard Kramer making noise in the research lab.
Iain stood by the door, trying to make out what was going on. He finally gave up and predicted Kramer would be the next one to crack up. He arrived at the door to the med lab and knocked lightly before opening it.
Maxine stood at one of the lab tables, looking at something through the magnification panel. There were some slides on the table beside her, and she seemed to be lost in her own world. Iain looked over at Tom, who was still out cold. He noticed the restraints.
"Doctor Williams, up to no good, I see." Maxine turned to look at the captain, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Oh my Lord, you scared me, Captain."
"Sorry about that."
"No worries. Some tea, and I'll be fine. As for what I'm doing, analyzing some of Mister Simon's blood. As I mentioned in my message, he was acting rather strangely, even for a case of the nerves."
"Find anything?" Iain walked over to Maxine and leaned a hip on the desk. A short look of annoyance crossed her face, and he smiled inside.
"No, actually. Everything looks fine. He just seems to have gone..."
"Crazy?"
"Not the preferred term, but an adequate description."
"He's in restraints. Obviously everything isn't fine."
"Doctor Kramer recommended I do that."
"Probably a good idea if he needed to tackle the guy for you to give him a shot. But what I need to know is if he's going to be okay. If I'm down a pilot, we're in trouble."
"I'll know more when he wakes up. Should be in about three hours. Then I can tell you what you need to know."
"First thing, Doc. Got me?"
"Yes, Captain, I got you." Iain walked out of the room with one final glance towards Tom.
As he exited, he decided to go and talk to Kramer. Twice in one day, the guy's name had been brought to his attention. This made him suspicious- well, more suspicious than usual- so he should look into it.
He opted not to knock and instead opened the door and walked into the research lab. Digital chips lay all over Kramer's workstation. His gear lay somewhat unpacked in the corner, and the man in question was doing something in the containment area.
Iain called it a containment area, but it was really just a small area partitioned off with wire and plexiglass. If something wanted to get out of there, it wouldn't have to put up much of a struggle. As Kramer turned and saw the captain, he let out a small scream.
