“Yes. One-hundred pounds in each quad placed in the walls around the peripheries.” Suddenly his spirit brightened.
“I see where you’re going, Matt. It’s a very long shot but if I can remember how the explosives are wired I can disable them all from the scuttle panel in my office. Then at the right time, once the dome surfaces I can pick any quad wall to blow, leaving all the others sealed. It’s a hack but it might work.”
“What about the inrushing water pressure when it blows? Won’t it kill us?” Williams asked.
He closed his eyes then answered, “No. The top of the dome should float above the water leaving our deck opening only twenty or thirty feet below the surface. It’s an easy free-dive escape for us. Should take less than a minute to float up and be rescued.
From a nearby crew table Lt. Jill Deason approached and stood over Bowman with her arms behind her back appearing defeated.
“The crew wants a short prayer service, Dr. Bowman, to memorialize those who have already died on the station and those who are about to die. Do you mind?”
Standing from his seat Briscoe offered an answer.
“I’ve given many eulogies for fallen police officers, Dr. Bowman. I’ll do it.”
Bowman nodded his approval.
“But don’t leave them without hope. We’re going to make it. Matt and I will be figuring a way to save the station. We’ve done it before, long ago.”
Watching the Chief walk to the center of the room and bow his head, starting a prayer, I whispered, “Come on Dave. Let’s go save these souls. We don’t have long.”
The normally short trip to his office took longer than usual as we climbed uphill through the vault and Z-room to back of Quad 4. Panting he rested his hands on his knees for a moment then kneeled at a wall plate labeled SCUTTLE PANEL behind his desk and started unscrewing screws. As they released and fell to the floor, I watched them race toward the front of the room and collect at the doorsill leading into the Z-room.
“Back here are the sixteen wire-pairs leading to the blasting caps,” he commented pulling the panel from the wall. “Now all we have to do is disconnect them from the pressure sensing activation probe.”
I peeked into the wall box and saw a rainbow of colored wires connecting to a long terminal strip. “But how do you know which ones to disconnect?”
“We need them all disconnected. Don’t want any automatic pressure detonations or we’ll flood halfway up.”
“Oh, right,” I said.
Then he pointed to the terminal trip.
“See these small labels? They start at D1Q1 and go to D4Q4. All we have to do is decide which quad wall on Deck 1 we want to blow when the time comes.”
“Dangerous voltage on those wires?”
“No, we use twelve volts but it’s the amperage that counts. A flashlight battery will work.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a flashlight then unscrewed its back and pitched me a D-cell, keeping one for himself.
Within a minute, back at the panel he had all the wire pairs disconnected and hanging loose from the box.
“Brown, red, orange, and yellow, each paired with white, mark the quads one through four on this deck,” he said. “Remember that in case something happens to me. We can find those wires leading to the C4 packs in each quad and intercept them there. Then all we’ll need is a wire cutter and that D-cell battery across the pair to blow the wall. Got that?”
I nodded yes hoping that I did. It was a lot to remember especially in the panic I expected to ensue.
“Now for the dome release trigger; that’s what I looking for. It’s over here.”
He probed through another maze of wires in the box with the screwdriver and looked back.
“If I remember right the scuttle signal comes in on these two wires after the EPod blasts off and this timer here delays the pulse for the explosive bolts. Then a minute later it sends pulses out to them over these wires and breaks the dome loose sending it floating upward.”
“You sure, Dave?” I had delved through wiring mazes just like it and knew one wrong move could have devastating consequences.
“Fairly sure,” he said frowning. Then with a snort he added, “Of course I’m sure, Matt. I designed and built it.” Then pointing his screwdriver to the panel lying upside-down on the floor he chuckled, “And the schematic’s right there. I’m reading from it”
Another jolt shook the station tilting us further up. I noticed the screws in the doorway that has stopped at the doorsill bumped up from the floor and rattled into the Z-room.
“Condition Red. Condition Red,” Ivy announced. “My inclinometers show a dangerous tilt in the station. Tipping is imminent. Evacuate immediately! Evacuate immediately.”
Frowning at her announcement, he raised his head and spoke toward her console.
“Ivy, Dave Bowman. Announce on the PA across the station for the crew to lie down on the floor and hold tight to something sturdy. They may be tossed around a little as we break loose from the base and right ourselves on our way up.”
“I will do that Dave.” A moment of purring came next.
“But, Dave, if I lose my power from the base I will go dormant. Is that true?”
“I’m sorry, Ivy. Yes. Dormant but not out of existence. Your thoughts will remain in your memory until we power you back up in the future.”
“Very well, Dave. Goodbye. It has been a pleasure serving with you. Ivy signing off.”
With Ivy’s announcement beginning from the PA speakers, I queried him.
“So Dave, how is this going to work? Other than all at once I mean. I know that, but when you activate that timer what happens?”
“First I have to simulate the EPod’s release by shorting these two terminals then we run like hell through the station dodging obstacles and seal the Q4 hatch behind us. After it’s sealed we race back into mess hall and then seal the Q3 hatch. Finally we join everyone else on the floor and pray for the best.”
“Roger that, Dave. If I don’t get a chance to tell you I want you to know that way back when we were young, standing on the beach together making those sandcastles that were always gone by morning, I loved you as the younger brother I had lost… and I still do. I never said that but I assumed you knew.”
“I did, big brother. Now let’s roll.”
Chapter 24. Breakaway
Wiping his eyes, he reached down with the screwdriver and shorted the two terminals flashing a brief spark. I checked my watch as the timer he had just pointed out began to count down with one-second flashes.
“Go, go, go!” he yelled standing up waiting for me get out of his way.
Through the Z-room and vault, we raced avoiding overturned chairs and computer consoles as we stumbled toward the core room. Having cleared the vault he turned back then leaned against the heavy bulkhead door and slammed it closed and twirled its locking wheel.
All we had to do now was round the core room and enter the mess. I glanced at my watch and saw only twenty-two seconds left until the bolts would disintegrate finally releasing us from the monopole’s fury.
“Hurry Dave! Twenty seconds!”
Rushing around me, he stopped in his tracks.
“Damn! Some idiot closed the mess door,” he screamed.
He fought the hatch wheel for seconds finally freeing it and spun it until the thick door unlocked and swung forcefully on its hinges into the tilting room, crashing against the bulkhead wall and rebounding. Its unexpected force yanked him into the room and sent him sliding and rolling across the floor into the serving line’s base.
“Somebody grab him he’s not moving,” I yelled seeing my watch tick down the final seconds. “Hold him tight!”
I turned back and pulled then pushed with all might against the door forcing it closed. As I spun the locking wheel, the room shook with loud explosions and jerked upward then downward. Tables and chairs flew into the air, landed, and slid over the floor, slamming into the crew as they grasped vertical beams and pipes aro
und the room. Then all of a sudden, the overhead lighting flickered and changed to a deep red, shadowing my vision. The blood-red darkness made it difficult for me to see across the room where Dave had stopped.
“Is Dave okay?” I yelled holding tightly on to the wheel as my eyes adjusted.
“He’s all right! Just knocked out cold by the fall,” Williams yelled back.
“How about the Admiral?”
“He’s fine. Tending to Bowman’s head wound.”
My watch continued counting up to the one-minute mark, as I waited for it, bucking the station’s undulations and worrying that Dave’s memory of the scuttle’s C4 trigger wiring might have been incorrect.
Wiping sweat from my eyes as it ticked past one minute, I breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing had happened except the water rushing past the surface of the dome had grown louder as we increased speed, rising faster and faster, still bobbling toward the surface. The crewmembers were silent staring into nothing with terrified expressions not knowing what to expect.
“We’ve passed into the safety zone,” I shouted trying to comfort them. “We’ll be topping the surface any minute now.”
Their cheers and applause made me smile and I finally accepted that we would make it.
Surfacing would have been less noticeable if it weren’t for the distant sounds of helicopters whirring over the dome and our slow rocking motion in the waves. With the crew rising, standing up for the first time since our ordeal started, wild cheers erupted at the sounds.
“What now” Briscoe asked approaching me.
I glanced down at Dave and saw he was still unconscious.
“We have to break through the wall. Dave told me how.”
“Break through this wall?” he asked. “I would think that would be very difficult. Have a Sawzall or jackhammer on you?”
“No, but I do have a hundred pounds of C4 on my side.”
“A hundred pounds!” he shouted, “That’ll blow through the whole damn deck and kill us all.”
“Well Dave told me it’s in the walls. We have to find it. Maybe we can separate the loads and fire something smaller.”
“Yeah, that would be smart, Marker. Let’s do it.”
“Oh,” I added pulling him back, “You’ll find an orange and white pair of wires leading to a blasting cap somewhere on the outer wall. The C4 should be there around the cap.”
He ran into the pantry and began throwing boxes around looking for the wires. I joined him and started to search, patting my pocket for the D-Cell. I knew this would be a very hazardous exercise after we punctured the wall. We would then have to wait for the quad to fill with water before we could finally swim out. Then we’d still have to free-dive up through ten or twenty feet of cold Pacific water to reach the surface. Extremely risky I thought.
“Do you see another way to get out Chief?” I asked pulling a pallet from the wall.
“Well the pressure’s not as dangerous out there since we’re so close to the surface. I expect we’re floating with the top decks out of the water. But if we flood this quad we’ll sink further making our upward free-dive longer.”
“So what can we do?”
“Think. Outside the box Marker. That’s what you seem to do best. Do it now.”
As he returned to flinging boxes across the room, I stood running escape possibilities over in my mind. After a minute exhausting my imagination, none of them worked better than the C4 idea. But it was so dangerous.
“Hey Marker. I found a C4 packet back here. On the wall over the hatch.”
“Find the wires too?”
“Yep. Orange and white. They run into a pipe sticking up from the floor. More wires of all colors with them but they’re the only orange and white pair.”
“Hold on, I’m coming back there.”
The pantry was dark but enough light filtered in from the kitchen for me to see the Chief standing there by a thick patch of C4 on the wall holding the wires trailing from it looking confused.
“Can you reduce the size of that explosive pack,” I asked remembering his warning.
“Let me see,” he said digging his hand into the putty-like layer. “How much do want Marker? Reminds me of Play-Doh but a tad more dangerous.”
“Just enough to poke a man-sized hole through this wall.”
He turned back and stared at me.
“You may think I’m smart but I am not a demolitions expert. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Then grab a fistful and put the blasting cap in it and slap it on the wall.”
“You’re obviously not a demolition expert either Marker. That handful will set the other ninety-nine pounds of this pack off in a sequential explosion wiping out this entire deck.”
“Then, what do we do Chief?”
“We have to scrape this remainder of the pack from the wall and move it to a distant location in another quad.”
“Can you do that?”
“Yep, but it may take me a few minutes. I have to avoid any sparks when I scrape it off.”
Then he scratched his head and seemed to realize the folly of our plan.
“I hate to bring up the obvious Marker, but how are we going to explode this handful of C4? It takes an electrical pulse to set the cap off. And who’s going to do it with this short wire.
I patted my pocket and took out the D-cell.
“Dave said this would do it. I’m going to use some pallets for protection and do it myself. All I have to do is hold the orange wire on one end and the white wire on the other. Then I hold my breath and pray.”
“But the water will rush in and kill us all.”
“Not if I close the pantry door. There’s not that much pressure outside the dome. Then when I signal you that the pantry’s full you open the door and let it into the quad and everyone swims out.”
He put a hand on his hip and cocked it. “Now Marker that’s the most cockamamie story I’ve ever heard. You’ll kill yourself and take us all with you. That’s like your balloon-strap solution for raising the whale-ship: doomed to failure.”
“Just do it Chief. We don’t have all day and our oxygen will soon be exhausted. Want to die like those Chinese spies gasping for their last breath?”
I timed him and in seven minutes, he had removed the excessive C4 and replaced it with a handful-sized ball with a six-foot orange-and-white wire pair dangling down.
“I put the extra C4 on the wall in Q1. Should be far enough away to prevent a sympathetic detonation but I don’t guarantee it.”
“Close the panty door, Chief and listen for my instructions. Tell the crew to brace for a wall of water if it fails. Oh, and please say some prayers for me.”
Suddenly he grabbed the battery from my hand and ran into the pantry locking the door behind him.
Seeing him close the door, I panicked and started banging on it pleading for him to return.
“Marker,” he yelled, “If I don’t make it tell Barb that I love her and went out doing what I love. Now I’m going to count down from ten. On zero, I’ll complete the circuit and if all goes well we’ll be free one way or the other. I guess we’ll have to postpone that Big Bear vacation until we meet again. Now brace yourself for the detonation.”
“Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
“Seven.”
I put my mouth to the door and yelled hoping he could hear me.
“Hey Chief! I don’t think I ever told you but I love you like the dad that I lost. I thank God every day that you came into my life after he died in that horrible crash. You’ve kept me on the straight and narrow and I never repaid you. Please give me a chance. Let me do it.”
Silence.
“Six.”
“Five.”
As he continued counting down, between the numbers I heard a thunderous rumbling of overhead choppers circling the dome. Suddenly I heard a weak voice coming through the ceiling. It was not from outside but echoing down from inside the dome above us.
“Attention crew,” an amplified voice crackled from above with a megaphone’s resonance.
“We have broken through the dome above the waterline and are cutting our way down to you deck by deck with a torch. Knock or bang on the ceiling so we can find your location. We know you’re in here somewhere: Simon and Broyles just told us.”
“Two.”
“Did you hear that Chief?” I screamed, frantically banging on the pantry door.
He slammed back the door and stood grinning at me.
“What? That voice from heaven? Sure did, Marker. Sounds like two are already out. We’re next.”
As he left the pantry and reentered the mess the crewmembers had grabbed anything longer than three feet including chairs, tables, and brooms and were banging them raucously on the ceiling over the big room.
“Move to the end of the room by the core,” he shouted over the din. “They’re probably coming down from the hallway surrounding the core. Less chance of fire.”
On his command, they all moved with Franklin to the narrow part of the wedge near the bulkhead door and resumed their noise.
“We hear you now. We’re on our way down. Clear the area for slag and metal droppings.”
Shortly we heard a loud metal clank on the ceiling. Then it scraped off and went silent above us.
“That’d be the third deck’s floor cutout dropping down,” Briscoe said. “Then they’ll have to let the rim cool and drop down a ladder and torch for the second deck.”
“Sounds like you’ve been here before, Mr. Briscoe,” Franklin commented looking at the ceiling with anticipation.
“Previous Navy training, Admiral. Something you never forget, being trapped on a sinking ship.”
He finally grinned again, showing relief and agreed, “Yes. Some of our training is rather rigorous.”
In a little over ten minutes, as we all stood watching holding our breath, a spray of fire broke through the ceiling and spewed down by the bulkhead door. Fiery droplets of glowing metal danced over the floor as they landed.
Sea Station Umbra Page 21
