by Greig Beck
“Ready?” he asked.
“Huh?” Her eyes snapped open. “Of course, and be careful. Looks slippery.” She pointed her light down at the rocks. Small, ghostly, crab-like creatures scuttled away from her as she shuffled her way forward, careful not to crush any of them. Behind her, a crackling sound told her Greg wasn’t so particular.
They had to cross a few hundred feet of the rock shelf to the pile of cables and pod-like containers sitting on a mound of fallen debris. Cate could see why they termed them buoys – they were like stubby, three-foot vitamin pills, each attached by cables that hung from somewhere up in the dark high above them. She marveled at the skill of the engineers who had managed to drill through the thousands of feet of rock, and then place them right where they were supposed to be.
Closer now, she saw that one of the buoys had an image of head phones stenciled on its surface, and additional cables sheathed in rubber attached – these would be the optical fibers that would relay messages back and forth between them. Cate knelt beside it, her mind whirling – she’d need to be succinct, and organised her thoughts in preparation. She wondered who it would be up there waiting for her.
She unlatched a small door, and then also an inner watertight compartment. There was a panel of dials and a single switch, also a headset she immediately placed over her head. She switched it on.
Nothing.
She frowned and moved the dials, slowly, like a safe cracker, her concentration intense.
“Hello? Come in…” she felt a knot growing in her stomach. She switched it off and back on, waited a second or two, and then began to move the dial again.
Please, oh please. Cate exhaled, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Once again she switched it off and back on,
“Come in, please, come in.”
“What is it?” Greg asked, kneeling beside her. “Isn’t anyone there?”
Cate removed the head set and handed it to him. “You try.” She didn’t want to tell him, and hoped it was just something she was or wasn’t doing.
Greg snatched it from her, and placed the set over his head, fiddling with the dial, switching it on and off. “Hello base, hello, is anyone there?” He swiveled the dial, his movements becoming faster and more agitated.
“Fuck it!” He gritted his teeth. “Come-in – we’re trapped down here. You were supposed to fucking… hello… HELLO!” His voice boomed in the cave, pounding away into the darkness.
Behind Cate something splashed, and she spun her head, but could see nothing but dark.
Greg dropped his head, dragging off the earphones. He started to shake, and Cate thought the young man was sobbing. But when his head came up he was laughing.
“Well that’s just great.” He got to his feet. “Maybe we should call a technician.” His laugh became a manic roar. “Why don’t we put in a fucking support call?”
He stomped away, but spun and came back, fast. “Now… fucking… what?” He glared down at her.
Her usually mild-mannered and nerdy colleague momentarily struck Cate mute. She held up a hand. “Greg, calm down.”
“Is problem maybe?” Dmitry’s question came from the top of the submersible. Cate heard him repeat the words, softer, probably back down into the hold.
Greg placed his hands on his hips, leering. “Yes, comrade, if you call being stuck miles under the earth with the local help-line being as dead as a fucking dodo a problem, then hell yeah, I guess you can say we’ve got ‘is problem maybe’.”
Cate pushed to her feet. “Can you please cool it?”
Greg spun to her, his teeth bared. One of his fists was up. Cate stepped back.
* * *
Dmitry slid down the ladder. “Captain Monroe, I think we have problem outside.”
Jack looked from the Russian to lean forward trying to see the pair on the dark ledge, but due to the angle, they were just out of sight.
Dmitry hopped from foot to foot. “You better get out there; talk to your friends – calm them down.”
“Huh?” Jack leapt to his feet, and headed for the steel ladder.
Abby rose as well.
“Stay here.” Jack held up a hand flat. “I don’t want everyone running around out there. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“But…” Abby stared, open-mouthed.
“Is okay, little sparrow. You wait here.” Yegor waved her down into her seat, and then turned to Jack nodding. “Go; is important.”
Jack was up the ladder in a few seconds, and gone.
* * *
Greg’s fists were balled as he stood before Cate. In the glow of her flashlight his face looked beet-red. But in a moment or two, he sucked in a few deep breaths and shook his head. It was if he had opened an escape valve, letting all the pressure escape.
He sunk to his knees. “I’m sorry; I’m just…” He covered his face for a moment before pushing strands of long hair up off his forehead.
“I know; it’s okay. Hey, I’m scared as well.” Cate laid a hand on his shoulder. “But you’ve got to hold it together.”
“Hey.” Jack jogged towards them. “What’s happening? Did you make contact?” He stared hard at where the cliff wall met the shelf, momentarily transfixed.
Greg scoffed, and simply gazed off into the darkness.
Cate sighed. “No, no we didn’t.” She pointed. “We couldn’t; it’s dead.”
“What?” Jack pulled up frowning. “Dead? Not working?” A dawning realization broke over his expression. “What if…” He turned to the pair. “What if those who sabotaged the crane…?”
Cate nodded. “Got here too.”
Jack tilted his head back, putting his hands on his hips and looking up at the dark ceiling hundreds of feet above them. “Well that’s just god-damn great.” He rubbed his face. “Greg… Greg!”
“What?” The young scientist’s head whipped around at Jack’s raised voice.
“Go check out the other buoys and see if there’s anything else there we can use… or is still working.”
Greg’s mouth worked for a moment before he nodded, and stepped in amongst the coils of cable and other pods.
Jack turned back to Cate. “That’s it; show’s over.” He panned his light around, stopping at the cliff wall, his eyes narrowing.
She nodded, knowing there was only one priority now – escape.
The sudden noise from the submersible confused her at first, and also caused Jack to frown and turn as well. The thumping stopped, and then the next sound was monstrously out of place, but recognizable as hell.
* * *
Valery Mironov gripped his armrests, curiosity now burning inside him. “What’s happening?”
Yegor grunted. “I think there is trouble.” The big Russian leant forward onto the u-shaped wheel, trying to see around the edge of the curved glass at the trio on the rock ledge.
“I should go out there,” Mironov said evenly.
“What are they doing?” Abby said, standing and then trying to see over Yegor’s shoulder.
“Talking; they’re fine… busy.” Dmitry spun in his seat. “We should all sit down, and wait.”
Yegor turned slowly. “Is okay, you can come up here, little sparrow.”
Mironov also got to his feet. “I’m going to offer my assistance. After all, the silos were prepared by my people.”
“No, you stay. Both of you stay,” Dmitry said quickly.
Yegor’s frown deepened, and he quickly glanced at Abby before turning back to Dmitry; he switched to Russian.
“What are you doing?”
Mironov stayed on his feet and also spoke rapidly in his home tongue. “You work for me, Dmitry Torshin. You will stand down immed—“
“Shut up, fool!”
The billionaire froze, confused.
“Your authority has now expired. We will be taking this submersible… in a different direction.” His eyes slid to the huge Yegor. “Want to be rich?”
Yegor’s brows went up, and his look went from sur
prise to horror. “Nyet!”
The single word was more a shout, and carried a hint of anxiety that also seemed to bunch his huge shoulders. He locked eyes with Dmitry, the smaller man returning his fierce stare.
“What’s, going, on?” Abby’s voice was small and she shrank back into her seat. Mironov tapped her shoulder, and then quietly motioned her to her feet.
Yegor began to rise, and the huge man filled the entire front of the small craft. His hands flexed, and he continued to shake his bear-like head.
Dmitry’s grin returned, and spoke a soft word or two as the big man continued to advance on him.
Like magic, a small gun appeared in Dmitry’s hand.
Yegor froze, and his face went a deep, dark red. The huge man lowered his head, his muscles bunched and then he charged. For a big man, he covered the few feet in the blink of an eye.
* * *
Gunshots. Two of them.
Jack stared at the Prusalka, his mouth open, but then snapping shut. He began to run, sliding on the moss-covered rocks, falling, gathering himself back up and running again. Greg and Cate sprinted after him.
The Priz Class submersible began to ease away from the rocky ledge. A small figure came out, fast, sliding down the side of the vessel and landing hard on the rocks and stayed down. The Prusalka continued to pull back, and was already ten feet from the ledge when Jack began to accelerate.
“Don’t!” Cate’s scream pulled him up at the very edge of the shelf.
Jack knelt by the fallen figure. “It’s Abby.”
Greg and Cate also came and crowded around the groggy woman. Jack stood, and as they watched, it looked like someone else was climbing out.
“Hey, I think that’s Yegor.” Jack cupped his mouth. “Hey, what the hell is happening? Get back here!”
The big man came up jerkily, his head first, then shoulders, and then when he neared waist level, his body slumped forward.
“Wha…?” Jack frowned.
In the next moment, Yegor jerked again, and his huge body came up to the thighs, and then he slid forward over the side of the hull, to splash in the water. The large Russian bobbed for a moment, and then sank.
“Shit.” Jack dived in.
“Jack…” Cate dropped her flashlight and followed him in, stretching out far as she dived. She swam to where Jack had followed Yegor down. The water tasted of salt and machine oil where the submersible had been. It was also the warmest water Cate had ever felt in her life. She had swum down, perhaps twenty feet, until the pressure on her ears started to become painful. She waved her arms around, but there was nothing – it was an impossible task, as the water was blacker than hell.
A light current brushed her face, and she immediately jerked back, remembering the things they had seen, and realizing she might not be alone in the water. She pulled back, and then stroked hard for the surface.
Cate breached and sucked in a huge breath, a light’s glare immediately in her eyes.
“Cate…” Greg was holding his flashlight up at her, the beam only just illuminating the water around her. She felt something strike her legs and she screamed. Jack burst from the depth beside her.
He spluttered for a moment, and sucked in more air, once, twice, and Cate realized he was getting ready to dive again. She grabbed him.
“Forget it, he’s gone.”
Jack face was screwed in torment. “Goddamn it.”
She pushed him towards the ledge. “We’ve got to get out.”
They swam fast, and clambered up on the slick rocks, Greg hauling them up like fresh caught fish onto a boat’s deck.
She and Jack knelt, coughing, and Greg helped Abby sit up when she groaned, still lifting from her stupor. They stared, still in shock and confusion – the submersible was now fifty feet from the ledge, and the hatch on top closed with a deep and final clang. The Prusalka then began to ease around to face them.
Cate could just make out the red glow of the interior, and Dmitry, the sole pilot at the controls. He grinned, and lifted a single hand, the fingers just curling in a comical wave of goodbye. Then the craft slowly began to submerge.
“No!” Jack yelled, the shout bouncing back at them inside the huge cavern.
Behind them Greg hugged Abby, who was sobbing softly.
“I don’t understand – where’s he going?” Greg brushed the slick hair back off her face. “Is he going for help? Was there a fight… with Yegor?”
Jack exhaled long and slow. “I don’t think so.”
“Is he coming back?” Greg blinked several times. “Maybe he saw something, and needed to keep the Prusalka safe.”
Jack scoffed. “Yeah, and Yegor just decided to go for a swim… after he shot himself.”
Greg shook his head. “We don’t know—”
“Dmitry… he shot Yegor.” Abby groaned, reaching up to feel a lump on her forehead. “He ordered me out, but made Mr Mironov stay.”
Cate’s heart sunk as she watched the retreating submarine. “Going, going….”
The water finally closed over the top of the submersible. There was a tiny whirlpool spinning on the dark surface, and just below it a soft red glow that soon also vanished.
“Gone.” Cate slumped.
Jack went and crouched in front of Abby. “What happened in there? Why did Dmitry go crazy?”
Abby shook her head. “He wasn’t crazy. They spoke in Russian, argued, and then Yegor tried to stop him. Dmitry shot him dead, and then made me get out.” she looked up. “But he made Valery stay.”
“He wanted the submersible? Why?” Greg was still wide eyed.
“No, I don’t think so. I think he wanted Valery.” Abby wiped her nose.
Jack rubbed his face, hard. He looked up at Cate. “The explosions, this…” he waved an arm at the communication silo. “It’s probably all sabotage. I think they’ve been after Mironov all along.” He gave her a tight smile. “I think he had some powerful enemies, and we saps are just friendly fire.”
Cate groaned and lay down on the slick rock.
Greg started to laugh. “Friendly fire; I like that.”
“Be thankful we’re not dead,” Jack said getting to his feet.
“Not yet, but it’s still early,” Greg shot back.
“Shut up, Greg. Jack’s right.” Cate sat back up. “You could have been shot and dumped into the water as well.”
“Might have been more humane…” He walked away continuing to mutter.
Jack walked to the edge of the rock shelf, and stared down into the stygian water. He shined his flashlight over its top that was once again as smooth as glass. There were wisps of vapor dancing on its warm surface.
Cate joined him, her voice low. “It’s bad isn’t it?”
He turned and gave her a tight smile. “It certainly could be better. But, for now we have water, oxygen, we’re dry, and that’ll do for a few days. After that, then we can start to worry. So…” he turned, and looked over her shoulder, back towards the cliff face. “Two things – Greg, Abby, go see what else they dropped down for us.” He turned back to the cliff wall. “And you and I need to check something out.”
Greg and Abby crossed to the pods, and Jack led Cate back along the ledge to where the impossibly-high wall rose up before them.
“I knew it.” He lifted his light. “This is a good sign… seems the Nantouk, or someone like them, were here as well.”
Cate stepped forward, seeing the same cave drawings they had seen high up above when they had first flown the miniature drone copter into the rock crevice.
“Older, much older,” she said as she walked sideways along the wall, lifting her light to the images. “These almost look Neanderthal, if that’s even possible.” There were warriors in canoe-like boats, some standing on rock edges, perhaps this very one, and either hauling on nets or throwing spears.
“Why fish in a freezing ocean, when you can come down here to your own private tropical sea.”
“Friend of yours?” Jack stepped b
ack, holding his light on a particular group of images.
Cate came closer. It was an image of a shark, crudely drawn, but the dorsal fin, curved tail, and massive jaws were unmistakable. There looked to be spears sticking from it, and underneath it were drawn dozens and dozens of images of warriors. All of them lying down with their eyes closed.
“They tried to catch it, or kill it,” she said, following the images along the wall.
“Or at least they tried.” He pointed. “Look at the size – the figures are about one tenth of the shark; that would be fairly accurate for a Megalodon.” He moved his light-beam. “See the warrior’s eyes – all shut. I don’t think all of these warriors below it are sleeping. More like these guys were eaten trying to capture it.” Jack turned to her. “Maybe their own private tropical sea had a drawback or two.”
She snorted in wonder, and focused her beam on the giant shark. “They were always here – the Megalodons – right under our noses. We just didn’t know where to look.” She turned and gave him a crooked smile. “I don’t know whether I should be thrilled, or even more shit-scared, right now.”
Jack put his arm around her shoulder. She let it stay. “Right now? Right now, we go and see what else Valery’s team sent us.”
* * *
Jack and Cate joined Greg and Abby and chose another of the buoys to investigate. The three-foot pods each had an indented locking mechanism that when turned and slid across caused a door to pop open. Inside his, Greg found some luxury foods, meant as a treat and perhaps a surprise for Valery Mironov from his support team – tinned caviar and pate, biscuits and salmon – nibbles for a fun afternoon, and far from the life-sustaining supplies they now desperately needed. There was even a well-packed half-bottle of champagne.
The other two pod contents were more practical: water bottles, first aid materials, a pair of new hunting knives and a small compass. The final one was the real score – a four-person raft, and the best of all, a dozen spare flashlight batteries.