Kitabı oku: «At depth», sayfa 10
16. BETWEEN SKY AND BOTTOM
The First Officer was assigned one of the most critical duties. Morgan must monitor the sonar readings so that when a signature appears, Captain De Bont can make timely course corrections for the Amphibia, minimizing the risk of contact.
— Henry, what is the status of the ballast?
— Everything is ready, Captain. I have redistributed the air cylinders.
— Excellent. Prepare to surface. Course two-nine-zero. Trim twenty-five. All ahead full.
Morgan repeated the Captain’s instructions precisely, reporting its execution.
Instrument readings showed an increase in speed. Even without the auxiliary thrusters and with one damaged propeller blade, the speed they managed to maintain was very impressive. Raising the bow twenty-five degrees above the horizontal plane presented no problem. The ballast tanks were blowing, albeit slowly. For a submarine that had been turned into a punching bag repeatedly, Amphibia XXI was exceedingly resilient. After everything it had experienced, it could rightfully be considered a veritable engineering marvel.
At a depth of six thousand three hundred meters, Captain De Bont asked:
— Morgan, what is the water temperature outside?
— Four degrees Celsius. Do you think this is cold enough?
The Captain looked at the ichthyologist and the biologist and asked:
— What is your assessment?
— I would say this is a borderline zone — Kayla answered. — Fifty-fifty.
— I concur — Hector added. — We don’t know for sure what its core body temperature is or what its external tissues are like. Closer to four kilometers, I think the water temperature will be just right. That will be dangerous for the creature. Even so…
— Contact — the First Officer cut in. — Bearing one-three-eight. Range one thousand two hundred fifty meters. Speed fifteen knots.
Captain De Bont pressed close to the large display and tracked the object’s movement. As it drew closer to the Amphibia, its track was gradually straightening out. Convinced of this, the Captain commanded:
— All stop.
— All stop, aye.
Without taking his eyes off the screen, the Captain added:
— What is the depth?
— Five thousand eight hundred eighty meters.
— Blow stern and bow tanks an additional three percent.
— Blowing three percent, aye.
— Report contact readings?
— Range nine hundred meters. Speed eighteen knots. Wait… speed is dropping. Sixteen knots. Fifteen. Bearing change nineteen degrees.
The sonar continued to ping:
Ping… Ping… Ping…
Everyone watched the instrument readings in silence. An anxious silence hung in the control room, broken only by the sonar pings and the voices of the Captain and First Officer.
Morgan reported:
— Bearing change thirty degrees. Range eight hundred forty meters. Speed fourteen knots. Thirty-five degrees bearing change.
— The bastard is being cautious — Henry muttered aloud.
Ping… Ping… Ping…
— Continuing bearing change. Forty degrees. Range eight hundred twenty meters. Speed twelve knots.
The entire crew froze before the large screen, continuing to listen to the First Officer’s voice from behind them. The Captain was focused on the predator failing to catch the Amphibia visually, hoping it would continue to swerve. He hoped the predator’s eyes had been sufficiently blinded that it could see nothing in the absolute darkness. He glanced at the depth readings. The submarine continued its slow ascent.
Ping… Ping… Ping…
Morgan continued to report changes in the object’s movement. His voice was tight, betraying a mixture of intense concentration and alarm:
— Bearing change fifty degrees. Speed twelve knots. Range seven hundred ninety meters.
— This isn’t your stop — Henry sneered.
— Slowing down. Speed seven knots. Range seven hundred eighty. Bearing change sixty-five degrees. It’s nearly stopped.
Morgan fell silent for a moment, plunging the control room into a frightening silence, broken only by the ping of the flickering signature:
Ping… Ping… Ping…
— Speed four knots. It’s turning. Changing course. Bearing change ninety-five degrees. Still turning. Bearing change one hundred ten. Speed nine knots. Accelerating. Range nine hundred thirty. Nine hundred forty. Nine hundred fifty. Speed is increasing. Fifteen knots. Range one thousand. One thousand twenty-five meters.
Captain De Bont reached into his pocket for a piece of hard candy.
Almost in a whisper, the Engineer began to mumble:
— Come on. Go on, get out. Head back.
Even at this distance, Kayla couldn’t stop glancing at the night vision camera feed on a nearby display, fearing she would again see the body of the giant deep-sea beast.
— Perhaps the cold water is already affecting it — Hector suggested.
Soon Morgan reported:
— Signature lost. Object is out of sonar range.
Long-awaited relief washed over the entire crew. Captain De Bont announced:
— Hold all non-essential systems.
Suddenly, an intermittent contact flashed on the screen. It barely registered within sonar range before vanishing instantly. An eerie silence hung in the control room. Three seconds later it was shattered by a loud, sharp PING!
The contact was lost again.
— What was the bearing when contact was lost? — the Captain asked.
— One-three-five.
PING!
— Everyone calm down — Captain De Bont insisted. — It’s trying to regain the trace.
A deafening explosion tore through the submarine’s stern. A violent shudder ran through the inner hull plating.
PING!!! PING!!! PING!!! PING!..
— Captain! — exclaimed the First Officer. — Bearing one-three-one! Dead ahead! Speed twenty knots! Twenty-two! Twenty-three!..
In a thunderous, commanding tone, the Captain barked orders:
— New course two-two-nine! All ahead full!
— New course two-two-nine, all ahead full, aye!
— Blow stern and bow tanks five percent!
— Blowing five percent, aye!
Morgan launched another dose of compressed air into the ballast tanks, further accelerating their vertical speed.
Next, the Captain turned to the Engineer:
— Henry, what the hell happened!
— Diagnostics running!
Henry continued to stare at the work screen, awaiting the results of the general diagnostics. When the diagnostics were thirty-one percent complete, the computer reported the first fault and Henry shouted:
— A high-pressure air tank has blown! Forward ballast tanks!
— Fuck! — Captain De Bont roared. — All hands to station! Secure yourselves!
Having lost his seat, Henry took the station formerly used by Tucker.
The monster continued to close the distance.
— What depth!?
— Five thousand four hundred!
— Outside temperature!?
— Three degrees Celsius!
— Blow stern five percent! Bow ten percent!
— Stern five, bow ten, aye!
Being in the absolute grip of total fear and confusion, Kayla did not realize it, but she was instinctively reciting the bulk of her prayers in the correct sequence.
— Captain, stern trim nineteen degrees! — Morgan reported after blowing the ballast tanks. Glancing at the sonar readings, he immediately added: — T Contact closing! Range four hundred fifty meters! Oh, bloody hell… — the First Officer shouted in stunned realization. — It’s slowing down! Speed twenty-eight knots! It was THIRTY-ONE!
— How do you like the water, you son of a bitch!? — Henry roared, looking at the night vision feed which still showed nothing. — Are your guts freezing off yet!?
Hearing the Engineer’s words, Morgan remembered the water temperature.
— Outside temperature two degrees Celsius.
The Captain checked the Amphibia’s speed. The instruments registered eighteen knots.
— Contact speed twenty-seven knots. Range four hundred meters — Morgan reported.
The Captain glanced at the night vision camera feed, asking simultaneously:
— Depth!?
— Five thousand two hundred eighty meters. Range three hundred fifty.
The Amphibia was now making twenty knots. Even at this speed, they only slowed the predator’s rate of closure, failing to shake it.
— Range three hundred meters.
Why aren’t you freezing? — Hector wondered, his eyes glued to the display where the monster’s blurred traces flickered.
— Range two hundred fifty!
— Visual contact! — Henry yelled.
The Amphibia’s speed peaked at its maximum limit — twenty-two knots.
— The bastard is freezing! Contact speed twenty-six knots!
— We’ve got him! — Henry cheered triumphantly. — A little longer and his ardor will cool!
The prayers from Kayla’s lips began to falter. She looked at the screen with slightly more boldness. She expected the monster pursuing the Amphibia would soon begin to lose sensitivity and cease its movement.
The cold enveloped the body entirely. The fins were nearly numb. The tail moved slower and slower. The heartbeat accelerated, working at its limit, attempting to disperse blood throughout the entire organism to restore sensitivity to the extremities. But it was all in vain. And this interloper… it was untouched. It seemed to be mocking him, tearing through the icy water as if the environment had not changed at all. It continued to move with uncanny ease, still without moving a single limb, leaving only a trail of bubbles in its wake. And that pulse… What an irritating voice this interloper possessed. It did not cease for a single moment. Who was it? From what waters did it emerge? Whatever happened, the master and true predator was obligated to fight for its territory to the bitter end. It had to try, to give its last reserves of strength. For it was so close now. Now!
— Range thirty meters!
— What is the outside temperature!? — Captain De Bont roared.
Morgan couldn’t believe his eyes. The beast was moving at twenty-five knots, and the temperature…
— ZERO! Captain, zero degrees! Holy shit!
— Just die already! — Kayla screamed hysterically, gripping her hair and leaping from her seat. Only the restraints held her in place.
— It’s swimming with its last reserves of strength! — Hector added, watching the images from the stern cameras. — No, no, no! NO!
The contact points of the Amphibia and the object converged on the sonar.
— IT’S BELOW US!!! — the First Officer’s voice rang out, as if in a panic attack.
BANG!!!
The Amphibia’s hull lurched. The stern section shifted sharply upward, while the bow was pulled down. The speed readings dropped precipitously. The pressure hull was creaking. The violent shudder did not subside for another half minute.
The crew members’ bodies shook violently in their strapped seats. The screaming continued, only Captain De Bont’s voice absent from the din. He cursed to himself, refusing to give in to emotion. Maintaining composure in any situation, no matter how dire, was the cardinal rule Luther de Bont lived by. He had always believed panic had no place on a submarine, as it only increased the chances of inevitable destruction.
— All stop!
There was no reaction from the First Officer.
— I said, ALL STOP!!!
Morgan cut the engines, and… a barely audible rumble sounded outside. The crew members did not immediately realize it was an animal roar. It swelled and grew louder until…
BANG!!! BANG!..
A series of blows hammered the entire hull. The final impact struck the stern, which was genuinely alarming.
The hull’s pitch nearly returned to zero. The Amphibia’s hull was almost horizontal, but remained listing twenty-two degrees to the starboard side.
Captain De Bont checked the instrument readings. The depth was increasing. The Amphibia was being dragged toward the bottom.
Time passed. Nothing happened. In the control room, alongside the frantic, loud breathing of the terrified crew, Kayla’s weeping could be heard. The ichthyologist drew the Captain’s attention to the screens. The monster was still close to the submarine.
— It’s zero degrees outside, and it’s showing no sign of retreating — Morgan stated, struggling to catch his breath.
— Silence, everyone — Captain De Bont snapped. — Not a sound.
He peered at the images on the main display, cross-referencing the camera views.
— Crap.
— It’s describing circles around the stern — the ichthyologist noted. — And, by all appearances, it has perked up.
Feeling the hull stabilize enough, Captain De Bont unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up and, closing his eyes, slammed his hand onto the dashboard. When his cold mind returned, he spoke in a voice that betrayed hopelessness and despair:
— Henry, get the Geiger counter and the dosimeter.
A deathly silence fell over the control room. Hector had no doubt about the Captain’s suspicions. He understood everything even without special instruments; the ichthyologist only needed to look at the display and assess the deep-sea creature’s behavior.
Kayla remained strapped into her seat. Her lips were parted, and her chin trembled. Her hands, clasped to her chest, were shaking.
Captain De Bont ordered the First Officer to level the boat’s position. Retaining the slightest sliver of hope, Morgan never stopped looking at his commander. He had put his faith in him until the very end. Not a day passed that he had cause to doubt Captain De Bont’s skill. And now, facing mortal danger, he never ceased to believe in the talent of the man who had astonished him throughout this voyage. Even here, in the hellish depths, with no armament aboard, Luther de Bont had demonstrated the peak of mastery and the standard of courage. But what now?
Henry returned to the compartment. The Captain questioned him with a gesture. The Engineer kept his mouth open for a long time, unable to find the strength to report the catastrophic news.
— The reactor cooling system has failed.
Captain De Bont quietly closed his eyelids and asked:
— Radiation?
— I… — Henry’s every breath was a struggle. — I… stopped about five meters from the reactor. The reading was… twelve microsieverts. I was afraid to go further.
The water temperature overboard was zero. Only now, the monster was not bothered by it at all. Radiation had become its source of warmth. Warmth… and sustenance. It stopped perceiving the irritating pulse. All it registered was gamma radiation. It had become a whole world for the monster, and around this world it danced, circling the stern of the Amphibia.
— Captain, — Morgan said timidly, — what are your orders?
The Captain looked at the chart and gave the command, swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat:
— Stern trim twenty-five. Course zero-two-nine. All ahead full.
Confusion was etched on the First Officer’s face. He was clearly perplexed. Noticing this, the Captain said:
— You were waiting for an order? You have it. We continue the ascent.
Still looking at the Captain, Morgan found the strength and reported as a soldier should:
— Stern trim twenty-five. Course zero-two-nine. All ahead full, aye.
The Captain turned to the Engineer:
— Henry, come with me.
The Captain and Engineer left.
Without removing her hands from her head, Kayla rasped through her tears:
— God… what will become of us?
Her lungs continued to contract and expand to their absolute limit.
Hector Cage walked up to the large screen. He watched the movements of the predator, reflecting on what an immense thirst for knowledge could ultimately lead to. The ichthyologist began to truly consider that perhaps there were boundaries of knowledge that ought to be respected to avoid exposing oneself to danger. But man had long ago begun to lose his instinct for self-preservation, refusing to acknowledge these limits, indulging the blind ambition to place itself at the apex of the world. The crown of creation. The superior intellect. The apex predator. The most dangerous killer. This is only true of man when he dwells on the surface and sees only what he is allowed to see. There he is able to kill even a great white shark, using tools that are the result of a highly developed intellect. That developed mind has made humanity the most resilient and tenacious biological species on the planet. A more dangerous predator cannot be found. But invade where it does not belong, and this predator is instantly rendered prey. Target. A mere link in the food chain. Nothing more. Was it worth trying to penetrate places that nature allocated to other creatures and which are unfit for habitation by the human species?
Footsteps echoed. The Captain and the Engineer returned.
— Listen up — Captain De Bont began, his tone firm and decisive. — I will not mislead anyone; I will tell you exactly how it is. Amphibia XXI is sinking. There is no way for us to regain the surface in this vessel. We cannot remain on board. Before the radiation kills us, we must take immediate action. We have bathyscaphes. They are fully operational and sustained no damage in the collision. Therefore, I need all of you to gather the essentials and prepare for immediate ascent. Our expedition has reached its conclusion.
— Captain, surely you don’t mean to… — Kayla stammered, her voice trembling.
— This creature is busy absorbing the radiation — the Captain continued. — Kayla, understand, you will have to take a risk either way. Leaving the Amphibia offers a chance to survive. If you stay here, the radiation will kill you.
Captain De Bont then addressed the Engineer:
— Henry, copy all saved files to an external drive: video recordings, notes, coordinates, images. All the data we have managed to accumulate.
— Mr. De Bont — the Ichthyologist said. — May I address you so?
— In these moments, I am Luther to you.
Touched by the Captain’s words, Hector continued:
— Luther, we are surfacing now. But the Amphibia will still sink back to the bottom. And this creature…
— Yes, Mr. Cage. That is why we are surfacing, to reduce the distance to the surface for the bathyscaphes. For the bathyscaphes, but not for…
— Wait a minute — the First Officer cut in, indignant. — The bathyscaphes can accommodate two people each. There are only two of them, and there are five of us. — Morgan groaned anxiously: — Captain?
The Captain placed his hands at his sides and said decisively:
— This creature will not reach the surface. Not today. And besides, we haven’t settled our score yet. I am obligated to win this round. I will drive this scum back to where it crawled out and bury it there.
— You’re not going to…
The Captain looked at Henry and asked him to show how to initiate the nuclear reactor’s self-destruct protocol.
— Captain… — the First Officer croaked hoarsely.
— Stand down, soldier. I am compelled to cancel humanity’s meeting with this creature. Such an encounter would be very unpleasant. The Amphibia carries no weapons. That means we must turn the vessel itself into a bomb. And while this bomb is slowly killing all of us, you must hurry.
— Captain, with all due respect, please don’t be offended, but…
— OBEY THE ORDER!!!
Bitter tears streamed down Morgan’s cheeks. His path and the Captain’s had fatally diverged.
17. THE DATE IS OVER
— Yes. I think that will be just right — Hector said, asking the Engineer to add one more file to the archive intended for their employers. — Good. Do we have the pictures of the trench?
— Looks like I saved them. Yep, here they are.
— And the coordinates?
— Yes, yes, Mr. Cage. Everything is here.
Meanwhile, Kayla Fox, a tremor running through her chest, stared at the closed door of the isolation ward with the welded window. She convinced herself that hardly any person in their right mind, having survived such a thing once, would ever willingly return here a second time. The idea could not leave her mind: that a complex organism existed, capable of settling in another body, so radically displacing all the external features of the host and restructuring the body to suit itself. To what extent are these bacteria tenacious and powerful that they are capable, in every sense, of taking complete control of another organism?
A crunch of glass sounded behind Kayla. She shuddered; it was the fragments of a broken lamp crushed under the sole of a sneaker.
— Saying goodbye to our colleague? — Morgan asked.
Kayla didn’t answer, only nodding several times. She walked past the First Officer, heading toward the exit, when suddenly Morgan seized her wrist:
— Where are you rushing off to?
— Get your hands off. — Gathering all her rage into a fist, Kayla added in a threatening tone: — Get your hands off me now, asshole.
— I don’t know about you, — Morgan sneered, — but I like it rough.
Morgan began squeezing her wrist harder and harder until Kayla’s fingers slowly began to uncurl.
— I said take your filthy paws off me — Kayla hissed furiously, raising her free hand to strike.
Morgan grabbed Kayla’s second hand and feigned not having heard a thing. Maintaining his air of nonchalance, he slightly tightened his grip on the first wrist and added:
— What’s the matter? Don’t you like a little roughness?
Kayla remained silent, only intensifying the grimace of hatred and fury on her face.
— Well, I hate being rejected. Will you get it yourself, or do I have to? — With these words, Morgan shoved Kayla. She slammed her back against the wall.
Noticing she wouldn’t yield, Morgan switched her left wrist to his other hand, using the fingers of one hand to secure both her wrists. Maintaining a cold gaze, the First Officer began slowly plunging his free palm between Kayla’s breasts, pressed together by the wall.
— Get off me! — Kayla shrieked.
— What’s going on here?
The figure of Captain De Bont appeared on the infirmary threshold. The First Officer continued to pin Kayla’s body against the wall with one arm while the other was crawling out from under her T-shirt, having slipped over her full, smooth breast.
— What kind of trickery is this? Huh? — Captain De Bont asked, stepping decisively toward the First Officer. He accepted several objects from Morgan’s hands, and Morgan himself said maliciously:
— I think I know what this is called. Science comes first. Right?
Captain De Bont looked straight into Kayla’s eyes and asked in a clear, articulate tone:
— Miss Fox, I am listening to you very carefully.
He motioned for Morgan to release her. As soon as the First Officer freed her from his iron grip, Kayla instantly recoiled and spoke with shaky, deep breaths:
— Captain, you won’t understand. By studying these microorganisms, humanity can find a cure for many diseases, extend life significantly, and eliminate the flaws that nature has burdened us with. This is a new stage in human evolution.
In his hand, the Captain held a flash drive and a vacuum-sealed plastic packet containing tissue fragments and blood samples from Tucker Hughes. Inspecting the contents of the packet, Captain De Bont replied:
— You are right. Perhaps there is much I do not understand. But I believe what I see. And I saw what your microorganisms did to a man. A living, perfectly healthy man who is now behind that door. Or rather, what was once a man.
— Maybe it was her doing? — Morgan interjected. — A visual experiment, so to speak.
— Fuck you, you single-celled blockhead! — Kayla snapped so sharply that her long dark hair slipped down, covering half her face. — Lackey.
After Morgan’s words, the Captain looked slightly more closely at the biologist’s face. A few seconds later he spoke in the same serene, yet firm voice:
— Miss Fox, I already told you that I will go to the bottom along with that creature circling above us. Perhaps I should rephrase. I will take everything that does not belong on the surface with me. Including this — waving the plastic packet in front of Kayla’s nose. — Miss Fox, I will not allow you to unleash an apocalyptic plague.
Having lost the last vestiges of despair, Kayla lowered her eyes and accepted the loss.
Without taking his eyes off Kayla, Captain De Bont formally addressed the First Officer:
— Mr. Sinclair, escort Miss Fox to the hangar for evacuation.
Upon returning to the central compartment, Captain De Bont checked the instrument readings. The Amphibia was at a depth of two thousand one hundred and fifty-five meters. At that moment, no one else was in the central compartment except the ichthyologist. Henry had gone to prepare the bathyscaphes for the launch.
Hector stood in front of the large screen when he suddenly heard the Captain’s voice:
— Mr. Cage, have you given a name to our «friend» yet? I’d like to at least know who I’m sending to the afterlife.
Hector turned his head to look the Captain in the eye and said:
— Bold.
They shared a fleeting smile for only a split second, after which Hector continued:
— I’m not strong in Greek. I know that «saurus» translates as «lizard.» I’m better at Latin. The Latin language has a very appropriate word to name this species. — After a pause, the ichthyologist pronounced: — «Profondosaurus» — deep lizard.
As if nothing had happened, Captain De Bont walked up to the display and mused aloud, as if addressing the monster outside:
Congratulations. You’ve been given a name, but, alas, you won’t live with it for long.
At this moment, Hector Cage spoke in a completely serious tone:
— Captain, if I may, I would like to speak to you about something before I must leave this vessel. — Gathering his thoughts, Hector said, directing a piercing gaze toward the Captain: — I want you to know this. It is difficult for me to fathom the sheer courage it takes to make such a decision. Meeting you, in a way, made me feel ashamed of my own inability to keep my cool in extreme circumstances. You set the perfect example. Spending these weeks here with you, observing your reaction to every emergency situation, I learned the most important thing — how to look fear in the face. You might be surprised, but literally just a couple of minutes ago, I finally got rid of the trembling inside, because I decided that if I die, it would be better from blood loss than from fear.
The Captain’s grimace softened into a look of approval.
— You’re right, Mr. Cage. You surprised me. You realized on your own what ninety-nine percent of soldiers have to be taught.
The ichthyologist barely managed to hold back a tear that had gathered in his left eye. Overcoming the tremor in his voice, he said, shaking the crew commander’s hand:
— It has been an honor to meet you, Luther.
Swallowing hard, Luther replied:
— The feeling is mutual, Hector.
A few seconds later, Hector broke the silence once more:
— Show this shit the way to hell.
— That is what I do best.
A crackle sounded over the intercom, which was immediately replaced by the Engineer’s voice:
— Captain, everything is ready.
Before heading to the hangar, Captain De Bont leveled the Amphibia’s position, reducing the trim to zero, then stopped the engines and redirected the submarine backward, setting a speed of twelve knots. Approaching the steep staircase that led to the lower level, the Captain looked at the bulkhead behind which the damaged nuclear reactor was situated. At that moment, Luther stood in the spot where he was most susceptible to gamma radiation. He followed the ichthyologist downstairs.
The first thing Captain De Bont did was give detailed instructions to Morgan and Henry, who were entrusted with piloting the bathyscaphes:
— As soon as you submerge, immediately proceed toward the bow, strictly beneath the hull, one after another in a single file. Maintain this heading for a kilometer. If necessary, dump ballast and ascend at maximum speed. Questions?
Henry raised his hand, which immediately dropped like a stone. He had a question — or perhaps it wasn’t a question, but he had something to say. Before he could utter a word, the Captain said with a touch of irony:
— Don’t fret about the vessel. You’ll build another one, better than this one.
— I don’t give a damn about the vessel — the Engineer burst out indignantly, nearly yelling. — There won’t be another one like this. At least not without me. I don’t think that… — Henry began choking up, and his voice trembled — …that after you… anyone is worthy…
He swallowed the lump in his throat with difficulty, and Captain De Bont hugged his limp body, shortly after which he asked for a favor. To this, Henry replied that he was ready to move mountains for the Captain. Captain De Bont, in a formal tone, demanded that the Engineer stand down from whining, forget about the mountains, and get ready to hit the gas.
Hector approached, once again shaking the Captain’s hand, and added in parting:
— If I reach the surface, then it seems I already know who to dedicate my memoirs to. Thanks to you, we are still breathing.
— That’s right, Hector. And it is your responsibility to keep breathing.
Morgan’s legs were rooted to the spot, as if held down by weights. Watching the Captain say goodbye to the crew created an immense, monstrous pain in his soul, bordering on a grief for which there should have been no cause. The First Officer’s cheeks were already slick with flowing tears. When the Captain approached, Morgan’s hands reflexively reached out to hug his commander. Those nearby heard him weep. Pressing his mouth to the commander’s shoulder, Morgan mumbled:
