by Andrew Gates
“Evasive maneuvers!” she hollered. “We’re getting out of here!”
“Temperature increase!” Damien yelled. “The orb is getting hotter.”
Sara looked down through the glass. A bright shade of orange emerged from the inside of the cannon. Not the orb, she thought, the weapon.
For a moment all sound stopped, save for the deep breathing of the crew members. Sara had heard of the calm before the storm. She used to hear old hardened captains speak of it, a feeling of calmness and quiet rushing over you before diving into terror. Was this that proverbial calm? If so, she had always expected it to feel differently. This was no calm. It was suspense.
Before any of them expected it, a fiery orange orb of plasma erupted out of the cannon’s barrel and smashed into the bottom of the sub, shaking it fiercely. Sara held onto the arms of her chair as her uniform jacket slid off.
The sub’s monitors and artificial lights flickered off and then on again. Sara glanced back, making sure Damien was okay. To her surprise, he was more composed than ever. His eyes were locked on the readings, carefully monitoring everything that was happening. She quickly turned forward again, looking at her own controls.
“Systems still nominal,” she said.
“The blast from that plasma knocked us up another six meters. We have severe hull damage, Captain, and the bottom sensor is completely fried. I am getting no readings.”
“We have to get out of here,” Sara replied. “That thing is going to hit us again. We need to go down and get back to base.”
Suddenly another salvo. This time neither of them even saw the plasma before it smashed into them. The hull shook and Sara’s head banged against the yoke, accidentally moving the sub’s nose down into a steep dive for a moment before she pulled it back up.
“The hull can’t take much more of this!” Damien hollered. “We should bring weapons systems online!”
Sara knew that fighting was not an option. This may have been a Navy vessel, but it was a prototype. They had been briefed extensively on the piloting systems of the craft but had been given only a small overview of the weapons systems, not enough information to defend themselves.
“We can’t risk it. We have to go back to base! We have to get out of here!” she said.
Her eyes glanced to the altimeter once again. 198.
“Sara, why don’t you listen? I’m right. Listen to me, Sara,” Damien cried.
Sara pressed down on the yoke. She was taking this ship down. She did not need any more of Damien’s advice. But as she thought on his words, it slowly occurred to her that Damien’s advice might not be the worst option. After all, he had been right about everything so far. He had been right about the sonar, right about the object being hostile, even right about this fucking heat.
Sara leveled out the ship and took a deep breath. She knew it in her heart. He was right. They had to stop and fight. There was no way they could last much longer.
Suddenly another hit rocked the hull and the interior lights went out, this time for good. A large crack began to form on the glass wall before her. The first to go, just as I thought, she thought to herself.
“Fuck!” Damien cried.
“What is it? Are you hurt?” Sara asked.
“No. That last damn blast took out our weapons systems. Look!” he replied.
Sara glanced down at the monitor. Although the lights were out, the control screens were still running. Sure enough Damien was right. All weapons were offline.
“Fuck,” she said. “That’s it. We have to go down. Get as deep as we can.”
She brushed her dark hair back, clearing the view for her eyes.
“We can’t go down!” Damien debated. “With all the damage we’ve sustained, the depth will crack the ship.”
“So what do you suggest? Just continue forward? We’ll get torn apart by the gun!” she said.
“No,” Damien responded with a certain cleverness to his voice. It was as if he had saved the perfect solution until the end. “We go up.”
Sara froze for a second. Her eyes quickly darted to the altimeter and then back to the window. They were 193 meters below sea level. As far as she was aware, this was it. This was the highest anyone had ever been.
“Think about it, Sara. We are closer to the surface than we are to the bottom. Much closer,” he explained, convincingly.
Sara knew it. He was right. Going down was suicide. They had no other choice. They had to go up.
She pulled back on the yoke, angling the vessel up as another blast hit them. With the combined force of the blast and the direction of the sub’s motion, this one pushed them up even further than any of the rest.
“We’re getting out of range,” he said. “The blasts aren’t as powerful now.”
Suddenly the emergency alarm began to sound, shattering the quietness of the sub.
“Warning, hull breach,” the calm artificial female voice said. “Warning, hull breach.”
The words were repeated over and over.
“Warning, hull breach. Warning, hull breach. Warning, hull breach.”
Sara looked around, searching for the hull breach. She could not see it but she felt warm water filling up around her feet.
“Lord, I wish that bitch would shut up!” stated Sara angrily.
Damien laughed. She imagined a big grin on his face.
“I see you’ve thrown your distaste for expletives right out the window,” he said jokingly.
Sara couldn’t believe it. This was not the time for humor.
“We’ll both soon be thrown out this window if you don’t help me steer this thing,” she replied.
Another hit rattled the hull. The water filled in higher.
150 meters.
They were climbing fast, maybe too fast, but she would rather be too fast than too slow.
This was the closest Sara had ever felt to death. She always knew the day would come, but she never believed it to be now. Funny how death sneaks up on you.
Suddenly it occurred to her that all this might be for nothing. If she and Damien died here today, no one at the station would know about the cannon. She could not let that happen. She had to get the word out.
She turned to her right and moved her hand above the touch screen, but nothing happened. The screen remained black.
She turned and looked forward again. They were very far from the orb now, but light was still shining in the water. It soon occurred to her that the light was not coming from below. It was coming from above.
“The sea above the water,” she said aloud. “The light from above.”
The hull rocked again as another blast hit them. The window cracked again and water began to spill in from the front. There must have been another hole somewhere.
“We’re running out of time, Sara!” Damien shouted.
“I know! I know! I’m taking her up as fast as she can go!”
It was true. The captain pulled back on the yoke as much as she could. It was dangerous, especially now that the hull had been breached. But she wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. She wanted to see the light. She wanted to see the sea above the water.
Years ago someone had taught her the word, but she could not remember it right now. She was too stressed to remember such trivial details. But she yearned for it, whatever it was called. She was so close to reaching it.
Only 128 meters now, she thought.
She still needed to get a message out. Her touchscreen was broken and therefore so was her access to the Meganet. But perhaps there was another way to leave a message.
“Damien, do you know Morse code?” Sara asked.
“Morse code? Of course,” he replied. All Navy sailors were required to learn it in case of emergencies like this.
“I want you to send a message down to the station. Send it now. Tell them where we are. Tell them what happened here. Tell them everything,” she explained.
“Roger,” he replied.
Water was touching her
knees now. Slowly she began to urinate, not even thinking. It did not matter anyway. Soon the water level would be up her to waist and the urine would just wash away with the rest of it.
More cracks appeared on the window. It would not last much longer.
“Come on, come on!” She said. How fast can this thing go?
It had been a while since the last blast. Perhaps they were out of range, but Sara did not care. She only cared about one thing now. She wanted to see the light.
The water level rose higher. It came up against her crotch now, mixing with the urine in her pants.
The dial on the altimeter spun faster than she had ever seen. 100 meters. 90 meters. 80 meters.
Suddenly the window shattered completely. Shards of glass flew towards them. Her first instinct was to inhale, breathe as much as she could before she got swept away by the current. But the pressure would kill her at this depth.
Exhale, she remembered. You must exhale until you reach the surface or you will die.
Sara undid her seatbelt and leaned forward, pressing her face into the wall of water that approached her. There was no time to stop and wait for her co-pilot. She simply embraced the water head-on, kicking off the back of her foam seat.
Soon she was separated from the sub, floating freely outside it. She exhaled as slowly as she could. Exhale too quickly and I’ll run out of air.
The salt in the water hurt her eyes, but she kept them open. She angled her head up and faced the light coming from above, kicking as hard as she could.
Humans are buoyant. The water will help carry me, she reminded herself.
Sara could feel the weight of the sub behind her, slowly falling back towards the depths. She did not even know if Damien had escaped. But there was no time to look back. She had to look up. She had to keep going.
Her breath was running thin. She had little left. Her head became light. Her kicks grew weaker.
Come on, she said to herself. You have to see the light. You have to! She tried to remember the word but could not remember it. She had known it once. She heard it when she heard the stories of the sea above the water. It was short and beautiful. But what was it?
Fish swarmed around her. For a brief time, that made her smile. She did not know the first thing about fish and could not name a single one. But this was a good sign. These were habitable waters. She could see them in the light from above. She could make out their shapes, their colors.
Almost there, she thought. She could feel the pressure changing in her head. She kept swallowing, re-equalizing as she exhaled. But her breath grew thinner and thinner. She would not last much longer. Go, she told herself. Go! You must go!
Suddenly the light grew brighter. It was closer. She knew it. She could feel the light touching her. She began to kick harder and faster, anything to get to the top.
And then, suddenly, everything stopped. She could go up no higher. Her head broke the water and appeared to be stuck against some sort of invisible force pulling her down. The sea above her was brighter and clearer than anything she had ever seen in her life. Puffs of white smoke dotted the ocean’s roof. A hole of bright light shone through the center of the colorless vastness. To her surprise, her eyes no longer stung from the salt. It felt as if she was back in a pressurized hull with air. But unfortunately, she could not hold her breath any longer. Her arms and legs flailed about. She tried to climb, tried to go higher, but she could not. This was it. This was as high as she could go.
So close, she thought. If only this barrier had not been in the way, whatever it is. If only she could keep climbing up.
She knew now that she could not go any further. This was it. She had gone as high as she could. Sara closed her eyes, looked up and opened her mouth, ready to take in the salty water. But nothing came. No water, no salt, nothing. Breathable air filled her starved lungs.
Suddenly she realized that this was no water. This was the surface. She had made it.
That’s when the forgotten word came back to her.
“Sky,” she said aloud. She stared up at the sea above the water. “This is the sky.”
For years darkness was all she ever knew. But now she saw only light.
ZOZAK STUDIED THE GLOWING SYMBOLS on the screen before him. Nothing new. Nothing at all.
No news was good as far as he was concerned. If something were actually happening, then that would be a problem.
As Chief Overseer to all submerged steam generators in the region, Zozak was well accustomed to sitting in this stuffy, dark room. He spent hours at a time staring at data. Day in and day out, this small room, barely large enough for him to move around, was his home.
Most Kholvari in his profession did not mind the cramped space, but most of them did not know any better. Zozak grew up on Vigilant Behemoth and was used to wide halls and spacious rooms. To him, this room was like a cell.
Zozak never expected this to be his life. As a youth, he idolized the hierarchs. He admired their confidence and their leadership. He always envisioned himself leading a life of politics. But as fate should have it, his destiny took a different course.
The lonesome Kholvari breathed out. Water vapor filled the air, reminding him just how cold this small room was.
Suddenly a siren blared. Zozak jumped, startled. Something was happening.
He studied the screens intently, searching for the noise's origin. He scrambled and eventually found the irregularity on a screen to his left.
That can't be good, Zozak thought. In all his years on the job, nothing had ever triggered the automated defense system on any of the submerged steam generators. Sometimes a fish would come close, but they would not tolerate the heat for long.
Whatever this was, it must not have been any type of fish.
Zozak touched the data on the screen to his left and slid it over to the one directly before him. He stared at the numbers.
Generator 47's defense array was actively firing its plasma cannons.
"Isolate Generator 47," Zozak said, speaking to Torak, the computer interface.
"Generator 47 on screen," the computer replied in a calm female voice.
All other data went away. Generator 47 was all that remained. If Zozak was to deal with this, he wanted to do so without distractions.
"Torak, what maintenance drones do we have in the area?"
"Drone 16 is operating at full capacity well in the zone of-"
"Onscreen," Zozak interrupted.
The monitor before him changed again. This time undersea footage replaced the endless stream of numbers and charts. It was dark, though illuminated by a robust lighting rig attached to the drone.
Each drone was equipped with a camera, as well as movable arms meant to simulate the Kholvari body. Unless overridden to do otherwise, the drones were programmed to be completely autonomous. But in this case, Zozak had seized full control.
A hidden drawer opened beneath the monitor before him. An array of controls automatically slid out. He grabbed onto the throttle and used it to steer the drone. He spun it around a few times, trying to get a sense of it. After a few quick spins, he spotted the glowing orb in the water. It looked so beautiful, like a second sun beneath the ocean. He was too far away to make out a lot of details, but he was eager to see more.
Zozak moved the drone closer to the orb. The closer he got, the brighter his screen became. Before he knew it, the screen was nothing but white. Even from the safety of his office, Zozak felt the need to shield his eyes or risk going blind.
"Torak, initiate object scanner," he said to the computer.
"Initiating..."
Zozak waited for a moment as the computer worked to process his request. He decided to angle the drone away from the orb as he waited. He did not wish to lose his vision.
"Scan complete," the voice eventually replied. "Object detected, sinking at a rate of 15.86 kotans per second. Object is hollow, but rapidly filling with water."
"Show me."
Torak took control of the dr
one and angled it downward towards the ocean floor. The view on screen was black and empty. It looked like nothing was there.
"Where is it? Is it shrouded in the blackness?"
"Affirmative. Object is 21.45 kotans below and falling."
Zozak moved the drone farther down, chasing the sinking object. The lower he got, the more difficult the drone was to steer. He noticed it always handled better in low pressure.
After a few moments, the object came into sight. In many ways, it resembled a submarine. It had all the standard components, a steering mechanism, doors, even what looked like a window, though that part of the object was now blown out and filling with water. But it was much too small to be a submarine. There was barely enough space for a single Kholvari passenger.
"What is this?"
"Object is unidentified. It is not registered within the Chiefdom database."
It couldn't have been a submarine, but Zozak decided to check anyway. He did not want to rule out any possibility.
"Scan for a biological signature," he said.
"Initiating..."
Zozak waited and kept the drone level with the object as it continued to sink.
"Scan complete. Single life form detected."
"A life form?" Zozak could hardly believe the words. "Torak, are you certain?"
"Affirmative. Scan is within 94.87% accuracy."
"Spare me the numbers, Torak. How can we get it out?"
Zozak moved the drone even closer now. He stopped directly above the sinking vessel and matched its rate of descent.
“I recommend the drone's onboard plasma cutter."
Zozak pressed the necessary buttons. A blade of white hot plasma shot out of the machine's left arm. It glowed in the dark void. He brought the drone up against the roof of the craft and maneuvered its arm in a circular formation. The metal cut easily. Zozak was surprised by this object's daintiness. Most submarines were made of thicker hulls than this.
Once the circle was cut, Zozak pulled the drone's left arm back. He then brought the right arm forward and clamped down onto the newly cut circle. Once confident that the grip was secure, he pulled it off.
