Deep Wild Blue

by Michael Maguire

  ‘If I had my shotgun here I’d shoot it.’

  ‘You’re losing your brains…’ Joe tipped the flask and handed his brother some coffee. ‘A gunshot would be heard for miles. Do you want us to get caught?’

  ‘Just joking, Joe. Chill out. Where’s your sense of humour?’

  Joe Riddle pulled another tiny transmitter from his pocket and gave it to Len.

  ‘Fix this new one inside the boathouse,’ Joe said. ‘And don’t muck it up – these cost money.’

  Len lifted his binoculars to his eyes, ‘Good. They’re all inside Gull cottage, so I reckon it’s safe.’

  ‘I’ll use the narrow track,’ Joe told him. ‘It’ll take a bit longer but I won’t be seen.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming with me?’

  ‘Nope. I gotta get back to the scrap yard. I don’t wanna lose any customers.’

  Len Riddle levered himself up and brushed off some bits of grass that clung to his dirty oil-stained jeans.

  ‘Are you gonna get a close look at the shark invention this time?’ Joe Riddle asked.

  ‘Yeah, you bet I am. Last time that older boy came to the boathouse to wait for the London kids. I didn’t get a chance to look properly at the electronics. I had to disappear real quick after I’d found a hook for the bug.’

  Joe Riddle stood up and stretched. He chewed on a dirty fingernail before looking at his brother.

  ‘Have you got the master key? That boy Troy will have locked the boathouse for sure.’

  Len reached into his pocket and produced the key.

  ‘It’s on old padlock,’ he said. ‘A trained monkey could open it.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll see you later at the scrap yard. Get the job done right this time!’

  Joe Riddle headed for the overgrown track that would take him over the cliffs and along to the outskirts of Milford.

  Len waited a few minutes then headed for the cliff path. He joined it and jogged downwards only moments before Troy appeared from Gull Cottage and headed for the path. They had missed seeing each other by a few split seconds.

  Much to Troy’s annoyance he had to make another trip to the boathouse. Lucy had forgotten the carrier bag containing her wetsuit. Troy needed her to dust it with talcum powder and try it on before they all left in the morning for Kristo’s first underwater mission.

  Troy was only aware of Len Riddle’s position when a family of greenfinches left the boathouse roof and noisily disappeared. Len was fiddling with the padlock and it rattled against its keeper as he twisted the master key.

  Troy crouched behind a blackthorn bush staying silent. He recognised Len as one of the brothers who owned “RIDDLES’ SCRAP YARD” in Milford. He’d bought some spark plugs there for his Uncle’s old van last summer.

  ‘Len Riddle,’ he whispered under his breath. ‘So it’s the Riddle brothers who want Kristo.’

  Troy knew that the Riddles were always in trouble with the police and that most people avoided them. They lived in a caravan within the scrap yard and when anything was stolen in Milford-on-Sea they were the usual suspects. Gull Cottage had been broken into about a year ago, and although the Riddle brothers were suspected, nothing had been taken and nothing could be proved. They seemed to make a living by taking in cars that were wrecks, crushing them into blocks, and selling the metal as scrap to dealers for melting down.

  Troy watched as Len Riddle pulled the padlock off, looked around to check he wasn’t being spied on, and then slowly opened the boathouse door. He entered, closing it shut behind him.

  Troy gathered his courage and sprinted forward. He didn’t have a plan… he would rely on sheer instinct when he came face-to-face with Riddle.

  What happened next was a confused mixture of sounds. There was a loud throaty roar followed by a deafening scream and then a stumbling sound as if someone had fallen heavily on the boathouse floor.

  Troy kicked the door open and immediately saw Kristo lying perfectly still in his metal cradle. The only body part that was moving was his head – and this had turned to face a terrified Len Riddle.

  The scrap dealer was sheltering in a corner, his face white, his arm covering his eyes as Kristo continued to open and close his mouth showing his forty brilliantly white teeth.

  The throaty roar from Kristo continued as Riddle shakily edged his way along the boathouse wall and towards the door.

  Great White sharks are silent creatures and have no organs for producing sound. Nevertheless, Uncle Jacob had given Kristo a fake “roar” as a deterrent. The opening and closing of the mouth could also be operated by tapping an all red icon in the cockpit but Jacob had added a database circuit to include face and voice recognition. This included Troy, Lucy, Archie and even Oscar. Anyone else would trigger Kristo’s self-aware system and activate the scare factor.

  Len Riddle locked eyes with Troy as he charged for the door. ‘T-that robot shark is evil!’ he screamed. ‘You and your old Uncle think you’re so darn clever… But you haven’t faced the Stinger yet. Now get your smart-ass outa my way!’

  He shouldered Troy clear of the door, fell over a few times and wobbled to get his balance before stumbling shakily away.

  Troy watched him disappear, and then picked up the carrier bag containing Lucy’s wetsuit. Crossing to Kristo he tapped the icon on the touch-screen glass and deactivated the artificial intelligence.

  ‘I don’t think Mr Riddle will be back,’ he murmured to himself. ‘Thanks Kris, you were great.’

  Troy began to laugh as the memory of Len’s white trembling face filled his thoughts.

  He didn’t stop laughing until he reached Gull Cottage.

  *

  ‘Eat your steak and calm down!’ Joe Riddle pushed a dinner plate in front of his brother. ‘Did you do the job? Did you plant the new bug?’

  ‘No time for that,’ Len replied, his hands still shaking.

  ‘How can you still be scared? The shark isn’t real, it’s electronic – right?’

  ‘It’s evil.’

  ‘It’s made of electronic bits and pieces. You’re acting as if the thing’s got a brain.’

  ‘You weren’t close to it,’ Len retaliated. ‘Its teeth could’ve bitten off my arm.’

  ‘It won’t be a match for our mini-sub. The Stinger will electrocute it. The robot shark will be dead in the water.’

  The Riddle brothers had bought an old and disabled mini-sub from a Royal Navy auction about a year ago. It was meant to be crushed, and sold at scrap value only. Joe and Len had big plans for the old sub which they named “The Stinger” and had wasted no time in rebuilding the craft. They stripped old cars and various vehicles in the scrap yard of all useful materials and used these to make the Stinger seaworthy.

  Using information gathered from the Internet Joe had wrapped the outside of the sub with stainless steel electric panels. He was far brainier than Len and had learned that a component called a power energizer could convert electricity into a high voltage pulse. This would produce a huge electro-shock to anything made of metal that touched a panel. It would act as a defence shield and give the Stinger full protection against an enemy attack.

  ‘Is this beef or horsemeat?’ Len pushed his steak around the plate.

  ‘It’s horsemeat – what you like.’

  Len cut a slice then fiddled with a few vegetables. ‘It’s tough,’ he said. ‘I reckon this animal broke a leg at a racecourse and then was shot.’

  Joe ignored him, brushing his arm over the dinner table and clearing the crockery into one corner.

  ‘Whatcha doing?’ Len wiped gravy trails from his chin.

  ‘I thought we’d have another look at the treasure map we stole from Gull Cottage.’

  ‘We’ve had that map over a year. At the time you reckoned it was a fake.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. I reckon the kids’ Uncle believes i
n the treasure. That’s why he built Kristo.’

  ‘Kristo?’

  ‘The shark, dummy. We heard the name from the kids when the transmitter was still working.’

  Len nodded. ‘And we also heard they were taking it for a test run tomorrow.’

  ‘We’ll follow their every move from the top of the cliff. Same spot as today. Polish the glass in the binoculars – we don’t want to miss those snotty teens unable to control that shark machine.’

  ‘Should be a good laugh,’ Len chuckled.

  Joe was trying to open a drawer in a rickety old cabinet. The drawer had jammed so Joe began kicking the cabinet. He managed to yank it open and the contents fell to the floor along with a flurry of mouse droppings.

  Uncle Jacob had found the map many years ago hidden in the basement of Gull Cottage. Luckily he’d made a copy for safe keeping so the loss of the stolen original by the Riddle brothers wasn’t as serious a matter as it might have been.

  ‘This is the old map,’ Joe breathed, his bony hands clutching at a tube of thick brown paper. ‘I’m not exactly sure where this wrecked ship is… Well let’s say I can’t be positive. This map is full of complicated stuff like “coordinates”.’

  ‘What are coordinates?’

  ‘I dunno. There are lots of numbers, letters and symbols,’ he said tapping the paper. ‘There’s also stuff about latitude and longitude.’

  Len chewed on a fatty piece of horsemeat and glanced at the map. He traced a greasy finger along Cornwall’s coastline to the land mass known as Lizard Point.

  ‘All these lines seem to meet and cross the sea at this spot,’ he said.

  Joe agreed and unfolded a new map used by sailors. ‘For once in your life you’ve got something right,’ he told Len with a grin. ‘If I transfer the crossed lines onto the sailors’ map, the point where they meet is the stretch of sea between Driftwood Cove and Sunset Cove. That must be where the treasure ship sank.’

  ‘I know that part of the Cornish coast,’ Len sucked on a tooth, and added: ‘It’s deep there and the currents are bad. It’s known to be dangerous.’

  ‘But we have the Stinger. She’s totally watertight now and can cope with any operating depth.’

  ‘You hope she can. We’ve only tested her to 150 metres.’

  ‘I know that Russian subs can dive far deeper. I’ve seen it on TV.’

  ‘They’re made of super-tough titanium,’ Len told him, picking a piece of meat from a tooth with a matchstick. ‘The Stinger is made from steel.’

  Uncle Jacob had been very careful to use only the finest and strongest materials. He knew that the outside pressure of the ocean could cause Kristo to collapse if taken too deep.

  ‘We’ll just have to take a chance,’ Joe folded the sailors’ map. ‘Nobody knows how far down the treasure ship is.’

  ‘It might be too deep for that Kristo-shark-thingy,’ Len added. ‘The posh kids could drown trying to get one over on the Riddles.’

  Jacob had done everything to stop this from happening and had built-in many safety features to prevent Kristo from going too deep.

  ‘Can you take a guess at the value of the gold?’ Len was looking closely at Joe, his eyes huge and twinkling with greed.

  ‘Hundreds of thousands of pounds,’ Joe said without meeting Len’s gaze. ‘Enough for you and me, brother… If we can get the stuff to the surface it’ll be the easy life for us.’

  ‘Woo-hoo…ha-ha!’ Len clamped his sweaty hands together and gripped them over his head. ‘I can smell that beautiful gold already!’

  Chapter Two

  ‘Excellent job… Excellent job, my boy,’ Uncle Jacob said twice, clamping a hand on Troy’s shoulder.

  It was the following morning and they had all gathered inside the boathouse and were standing by the rear doors. Troy’s strong hands pulled at a chain and the doors slid up to the roof showing the sand and sea view of the beach.

  Everyone watched as Uncle Jacob wearing an orange Indian turban walked to where the sea reached the sand. He let the waves wash over his sandals and splash his dhoti.

  Since arriving in England many years ago Jacob had continued to wear traditional Indian clothing.

  ‘The tide’s almost in,’ Troy remarked as his Uncle bent to inspect the running rails.

  ‘Have you checked them, Troy?’ Jacob asked. ‘Are they well greased?’

  ‘All tested,’ Troy nodded. ‘The cradle carrying Kristo will be as smooth as silk.’

  Jacob had purchased the running rails from an out of use fairground that operated a train for children’s rides. Troy had laid the rails from the boathouse to the sea and they had been fixed firmly to the sand. The metal grooved wheels on Kristo’s cradle would carry the shark safely to the foamy sea’s edge.

  ‘Time for the launch,’ Troy announced, checking his wristwatch and glancing at Lucy and Archie. ‘Okay open Kristo’s hatches and get seated. It’s been many weeks of distance training so remember all the computer lessons that Uncle Jacob taught you.’

  The twins nodded and turned back to the boathouse. They had been told everything last night about the treasure ship and Kristo’s mission to bring the gold to the surface.

  Troy had switched on the cradle and a humming noise filled the boathouse. Archie was wearing shorts and rubber slip-on shoes. Lucy had squeezed into her wetsuit and was carrying flippers and goggles.

  ‘You won’t need the swimming stuff,’ Troy called out. ‘This is a test run for Kristo. You’ll both be staying in the dry today.’

  There was a double hiss as the twins pressed on each hatch which opened to reveal the cockpit.

  ‘Remember the golden rule,’ Troy continued. ‘Never, ever, open the hatches unless it’s an emergency. It would only take one wave to flood the cockpit.’

  Archie pushed himself up with his hands, swung his legs inside, and plonked into the front seat. Lucy did likewise getting comfortable in the rear seat and placing her flippers and goggles in a thick, padded, box-like section of Kristo’s tail.

  ‘This is so cool, Troy.’ Lucy enthused. ‘The storage space will be perfect for Oscar. I’ll Velcro a lot of cushions together.’

  ‘Please concentrate,’ Troy instructed speaking into a hand held transceiver that linked with the cockpit speakers. If he wanted to receive the live pictures as seen by Kristo he could use the application that Jacob had built into his mobile phone.

  ‘All okay, Troy,’ Archie told him, turning his head to the built-in microphone.

  ‘Turn on the oxygen generator,’ Troy replied. ‘Then close both entry hatches until the warning light stops flashing.’

  Archie obeyed tapping the “oxygen” icon on the console in front of him. There was a slight rumble under his feet followed by a soft hissing sound as air pumped out of dozens of tiny holes inside the cockpit.

  Lucy leaned forward, stretched up, and closed both entry hatches. The warning light on the console stopped flashing.

  ‘Get your safety harnesses on.’ Troy told them.

  Lucy pressed a button on Kristo’s roof and two body-straps unrolled as they dropped down. The twins were both feeling warm as they fastened the clips. Luckily the hiss of the oxygen continued making the cockpit cooler.

  ‘All good here, Troy,’ Archie said.

  The twins both knew that oxygen would be constantly released by a computerised system which measured the amount needed in the cockpit.

  ‘Check cameras please,’ Troy instructed.

  Archie tapped the “camera” icon and three plasma screens just above his head lit up. Kristo had a high-tech camera in each eye and one on the top of his dorsal fin. This could swivel ninety degrees from front to rear giving a full all-round view of the outside world.

  ‘I can see you, Troy.’ Archie grinned and twisted the dorsal camera until it beamed pictures of his brother. ‘Your hair needs
cutting and it needs combing.’

  ‘Stop playing with Kristo’s equipment and don’t be so cheeky,’ Troy said, running a hand through the thick black hair he had inherited from his Indian background. ‘Please stand by to activate the turbine engines.’

  Lucy checked the screens for any boats or swimmers that could block the way for Kristo’s launch.

  ‘All clear,’ she told Troy.

  ‘Turbine engines activated,’ Archie said. He was slightly nervous as he tapped the console icon. He knew that this was no longer practice, but the real thing.

  There was a slight pause before Kristo moved forward jerking the twins further back into their seats. This was followed by a jolt as the electronic shark made contact with the rails…

  Kristo’s test run was about to begin.

  *

  The Riddle brothers had settled on top of the cliff. They had binoculars and a plastic box filled with fish-paste sandwiches. Len was already stuffing these into his mouth and making grunting noises as he watched Kristo slide slowly from the boathouse.

  ‘Looks like it’s gonna launch,’ Joe said, lifting his binoculars.

  Len looked puzzled ‘I can see that older boy Troy, and the Uncle. But where are those stupid kids?’

  ‘They’re inside the shark you thicko. How else did you think it was controlled?’

  ‘By remote I thought. I see that older boy is holding some kind of gadget.’

  ‘Probably so he can talk to the kids. That shark ain’t got no windows.’

  ‘Well spotted, Joe.’ Len nodded and spat out a piece of sandwich. ‘So Kristo’s blind, eh? A blind shark! This is becoming easier and easier.’

  ‘Don’t be a pillock. The outside will be fixed with cameras.’

  ‘Oh, yeah…’Cos.’

  Kristo was running smoothly along the rails and had nearly reached the edge of the sea. The sun was out and this made his colours gleam… a pale grey-blue from his nose and along his back to the pure white of his underbelly.

  Jacob had struggled to get a convincing match for Kristo’s skin. He had wanted the shark to look and feel as realistic as possible so he had taken advice from an inventor friend who worked at the UK Space Agency.