Counterpoint

by John Day

  Captain Williams and members of the crew responsible for controlling the direction and attitude of US1, put on their virtual reality headsets. The pilot sat elevated above the floor of his own area where every wall, the floor and ceiling had a visual display of the outside of the vessel. It was just as though he was in a sphere of glass travelling along through the air, not water, in the tunnel. By feeding the results of sensors and cameras around the hull into the computer, it produced an enhanced display of everything within range, on the appropriate display.

  The rock walls of the tunnel though some 1000m away from the hull could be magnified to reveal the eroded surface. The seabed below was out of visual range, but the three dimensional image was integrated seamlessly down to the base of the walls. The species of the occasional fish that darted past could be clearly identified if close enough, in full colour.

  Individual monitors elsewhere could be switched on by the person viewing, so even the guards close to one could see the wonders of this unique environment. Everyone was fascinated by the experience, Gruber was particularly interested, and he had never imagined the world beneath the sea like this as it slipped past the ancient hull of his U-boat. Montoya also forgot about the mission for a while, when he put on the headset, the danger that lay ahead had been put to the back of his mind as he gazed around in awe.

  As the hours flew by, the speed of the current had enormously increased; the motor speed adjusted accordingly, to maintain the same 2-knot headway. In still water, the sub would actually be travelling some 30 knots.

  By this time, the pilot was exhausted from the intense concentration and Captain Williams ordered his relief. The changeover of pilots was going to be tricky, for about 15 seconds the vessel would be without proper control. In normal circumstances, a changeover would not be made at a critical time, but the whole trip would be critical. As one man climbed out of the seat, the other climbed in, both holding the joystick as steady as possible. The sensitive control and the vessel hurtling through the turbulent water at thirty-two knots would cause it to deviate wildly at the slightest overcompensation.

  A sudden surge of turbulence caused the new pilot to jerk the stick to the right, slightly before being strapped into his seat. The bow of the sub lurched to the right as the strong current caught it. The man overcompensated and it now swung hard left, throwing him out of the seat. All those members of the crew who were watching, could see the distant rock wall looming ever closer as the bow turned towards it. No one knew of the pilots’ mishap and was stunned at what was happening. They froze at the sight of approaching death. Max jabbed the override button on the control panel near him to switch control to the navigation computer. He knew it was a slim chance at best that the system would compute a solution in the next few seconds, before the point of no return, but it was all he could think of. The computer had always been on line and calculated its responses to the subs situation as it went. It was intended to compare the results later, with what the human navigator had done. No one had sufficient confidence in the system to deal with collision avoidance, when his or her own lives were at stake. Max also knew that the system could not defy the laws of physics any more than fitting anti-lock brakes to a car, and expecting it to stop dead on a sheet of ice.

  The speed of the sub’s motors rapidly climbed to a distant crescendo, and for the first time the massive vessel shuddered under the load as the propulsion system switched from the forward thrust to reverse.

  The vessel had swung broadside on to the 30 knot current and was still closing rapidly on the rock face. The bow planes and ballast tanks were now forcing the bow downwards in an attempt to avoid collision. Anyone not strapped into their seats was flung through the air to the side, then, along the floor towards the bow as the sub increased its dive angle to vertical.

  The sub was just a few meters away from the rock face, swept along by the current, accelerating downwards in the attempt to gain speed and stability again. Fortunately, this part of the chasm was exceptionally deep and to everyone’s relief, eventually the bow lifted as the sub tried to level out, and head back up the tunnel again.

  After several minutes, the sub had fully stabilised and was back on course at a colossal rate of 50 knots, a 20 knot headway until it had reached the same point where the trouble at handover started. Then the speed dropped back to 33 knots, to allow for the rise in current and maintaining the original 2-knot headway.

  The crew would have been happy to just sit and talk about the close call, none wanting to leave the safety of their seats, but Max grasped the opportunity of seizing the weapons of their captors while they were still groggy.

  Other crewmembers sprang to help while others tended to the injured.

  Sadly, Captain Williams was accidentally shot through the head, when a silenced pistol went off and hit metalwork, during the turns.

  Max made his way through the vessel to find his beloved Carla. Frantically he searched for Ingrid, who would probably know Carla’s hiding place.

  Ingrid was unconscious, but otherwise not badly injured, lying under some loose equipment that fell on her, during the dive, so Max looked around for a likely hiding place. The steel lockers offered a possibility, so he tried them first. Mike Teal was wedged upright in the narrow space. Max’s blood ran cold as he looked at the unnatural angle of his head. His neck was broken. Fear gripped his heart as he wrestled with the doors on other lockers, why should Carla’s fate be better than Mike’s?. Max could barely imagine being unexpectedly thrown around in the slim steel box as the sub had twisted and turned in its fight to avoid destruction. He found Carla at last. She had a strong pulse, but was unconscious, her lovely blond hair matted with clotting blood. Gently he eased her out onto the floor and checked for the cause of the blood and for other injuries. A deep gash on her scalp from the metal shelf above her was the only damage he could find. He dashed to the toilet for a wet towel, so he could bring her round, and clean her up. A few minutes later, she gave a groan and opened her lovely deep blue eyes. As she focused them on Max’s anxious face, she forced a smile and murmured, “Sorry lover-boy, sex is off tonight, I have a bit of a headache.”

  “Too late,” he said, smiling with relief, “I have had you already; you slept through it as usual.”

  “Pig!” she answered as she tried to move. Max helped her up and into the medical bay and laid her on an examination couch.

  “Poor Mike didn’t make it, I’m afraid, he broke his neck.”

  “Oh No!” She cried. “He was one of the good guys, I will miss him.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought of him and the time they were together.

  “How is Ingrid?” Carla asked, changing the subject to something less painful.

  “I’m just going back to see to her now,” replied Max. “She was just unconscious when I left her.” Max dashed off, reasonably content, now Carla was ok.

  The two pilots were badly injured, with deep cuts and a concussion, from being flung about the toughened glass room. With no one to navigate the vessel by hand, everyone’s fate was now with the computer. Although the system came up trumps and saved lives, still no one wanted to trust it, and an intense anxiety set in as it ploughed on relentlessly, along the tunnel.

  With all Montoya’s men bound up with duct tape and under guard, at least that problem was out of the way. The next issue was who was in command? With the death of Captain Williams, the command was being assumed by one of the officials, a Senator Joe Buck, on the basis he held the rank of Admiral when he was in the American Navy. No one was particularly bothered who assumed command as long as he knew what he was doing, and could get them all safely out of danger and back home. The first order of business was to turn around and go back, rather than risk the journey onwards. This proposal was agreed, whole-heartedly by everyone, except Ingrid. She could see her rise to fame and glory cut off at the knees.

  Joe Buck issued the order to hold station at this point until the tide turned and the water was still. They could easily tur
n round and then head for home. The command was sent to the navigation computer, and speed dropped accordingly. It would be three hours until still water, so all hands set to and repaired the damage, and cleaned up. Meals and drinks were prepared as well. With everything that had happened, no one had thought much about food, until now.

  Chapter - The earthquake.

  Now the water was calm, preparations were made to implement the turn. Suddenly all on board felt a sort of giddiness. Seconds later, it turned to a positive low frequency vibration, of increasing magnitude. This was followed by a deep rumbling that could even be heard through the sound proofed hull. The whole vessel was being moved, several inches in every direction, at about one or two cycles per second. Ingrid screamed out in terror, “We are in the region of a subterranean earth tremor!”

  With the extreme vibration, the virtual reality display was totally blurred. As the rumbling built up to deafening proportions a large cloud of seething bubbles appeared from behind them and within seconds had engulfed them. Ingrid was right, of course, but even worse, the seabed under them had burst open, spewing millions of tons of lava and gasses into the water. They were sitting in the middle of a vast kettle of boiling water. As the bubbles hit them, the buoyancy of the water vanished, and the vessel dropped like a stone in a Jacuzzi.

  Down it fell for 10 to 15 seconds, then suddenly buoyed back up for a fleeting moment, only to fall again. The lucky ones were able to strap themselves in their seats or to the beds in the medical bay. Even so, the drop followed by the violent uplift was tantamount to riding bareback on a wild steer in a rodeo.

  After 20 minutes, they had settled some 1000 meters lower than they started. The air temperature was now climbing rapidly as the air conditioning and filtration system, could no longer cope with the hull, immersed in boiling water. Warning lights and sounders started to go off as circuits overheated, or sensors failed. One by one, the hull cameras, sensors and external lights went out. Thai added to the terror of all on board, as the feeling of claustrophobia swept over the crew. They could no longer clearly see their surroundings. Were they about to smash into the rock walls, splitting open the hull and casting them out, or be engulfed by lava to become entombed for eternity, in this abyss of hell?

  Even worse, the sub was losing its ability to see its way, without the cameras and sensors, the navigation computer was ineffective.

  Senator Joe Buck was not up to the job of leading them to safety; darned soon panic would be the final straw.

  Max shouted to Bill Davis, a senior technician responsible for the propulsion system. “Bill, can you override the computer control on propulsion to forge ahead out of this confusion? If we can get into clearer water, the system may pick up again and get us out of here?”

  Bill wanted to get out with every fibre of his being, so he adjusted controls to increase the speed of the motors. Faster and faster, the motors whined, but nothing seemed to happen until bubble free water started filling the propulsion tubes again. The vessel surged forward and upwards like an electric tram powered by lightning. The virtual reality display was limited to just 3 cameras on the upper hull, 2 were forward pointing, and one to the left; none were suitable for fast forward flight out of danger.

  Max turned to Bill again, “switch over to manual control when I say!”

  Bill nodded. Max released his seatbelt and staggered along the lurching deck to the pilot’s seat. Climbing in and quickly belting up, he grasped the joystick and resumed manual control the moment Bill switched off the computer. No indicators showed his forward speed, the readouts were just cycling digits like the symbols on a one-arm bandit. Apart from streams of steam-filled bubbles that flashed white specks as the sub glided by, there was nothing but blackness on the working displays. Max reasoned that if he headed for a rock wall on the left, when he saw it, he could keep close to it and by running parallel, navigate to safer water. Sonar was useless, the bubbles and faulty transponders had seen to that. No, the deliberate error approach was the only option he could think of, for now.

  With his guts knotted with fear and tension and his eyeballs bulging, he searched the displays frantically for the slightest indicator of an approaching rock face. If the US1 was speeding directly towards the rock, there would be no chance of avoiding a fatal collision. Max knew this, but prayed he was closing on a near parallel course.

  In an instant the rock loomed into view, the closing angle was quite steep, about 45 degrees, much worse than he hoped. A quick twist of the joystick grip caused the sub to start to turn away, but would it be enough? Closer and closer, the rock came; the smooth but horizontally ridged surface became clearer and detailed with every second. It would be touch and go, without a doubt.

  Still the slowly turning sub closed on the rock. It was then that Max knew they were not going to make it, he could only sit there and brace himself as he watched the inevitable.

  There was not much of a bump as the 10,000 tonne hull kissed the rock wall, but then they said the same about the Titanic. However the grinding and shrieking of tortured steel was deafening for nearly a minute and then it stopped. The silence left everyone petrified as they strained to hear the sound of water gushing in on them, but it never happened. Slowly, as their confidence returned, they felt comforted by the quiet hum of the motors and equipment around them. Max realised, whatever damage they sustained, they were still watertight and gradually heading away from the rock face. A minor correction to the steering and shutting down the motors brought them back parallel as the sub slowed to a halt. Manoeuvring thrusters maintained their position and shallow depth, after switching back to computer control.

  Max left the pilots seat, feeling totally drained, his clothes stuck to his body with sweat from the stress and tension of the collision. He quickly made his way back to his group of technicians, the tide would be turning in just over an hour’s time, and somehow the external cameras, sensors and lights had to be repaired so they could navigate. Max felt sick with fear at the thought of the surging current thrusting them at 30 knots up the narrow tunnel.

  Senator Joe Buck and others believing they were now safe became loud and animated. The collision was the perfect excuse for Buck to reassert his authority. What right had Max to take control of the vessel and put their lives at risk, his stupid attempt at heroics had nearly split the sub apart? The others agreed and closed in around Max and Buck. Before Max could protest and explain, Buck demanded that Max be locked up in a cabin, out of the way, so the technicians could do their jobs. Senator Joe Buck would get them out of this mess and back to safety. The baying mob grabbed Max, ignoring his protests, they hustled him up to a store room and locked him in.

  Chapter - Replace hull sensors.

  Bill Davis went white with fear, there was no way he would stand against the Senator, with that crowd backing him, but what plan had Joe Buck got, to get them operational.

  The other technicians looked to Bill for help, he was the senior man there, he should take charge and come up with a plan, but Bill just looked away at the controls.

  Senator Joe Buck turned to Bill and gave him a withering look, ordering him to get under way as soon as possible. Bill just sat there; his mind locked in a loop of panic. He had to obey the Senator, but what should he do, he just couldn’t think of anything.

  “What’s the problem?” Demanded the Senator.

  “We just cannot see to navigate. “Replied Bill, weakly. “The external lighting, cameras and sensors are not functioning.”

  “You mean that idiot caused all this damage when he hit the rock face,” yelled Joe Buck, turning purple with rage.

  “No! No! They were already damaged by the boiling water,” exclaimed Bill.

  “Well, he could see alright when he was at the controls,” thundered Buck.

  “Not really, he was navigating by deliberate error, by considerable skill and luck; he got us to where we are now, calm water. We owe him our lives,” murmured Bill, turning his face down to the floor in shame.
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  After the sub came to a gentle stop, Carla un-strapped herself from the cot and walked forward to the control room, to find out what was going on. The collision shook everyone up and she needed answers. Standing in the doorway, she heard the commotion and saw Max being forced along to a storeroom and locked in. Acting like part of the group, she hung back as they made their way to the control room. Out of sight, she unlocked the door and let Max out. They then went forward to discuss the situation. Max explained what he had done, and she looked at him in amazement. In her mind, Max was not a brilliant car driver let alone driving a 10,000 tonne experimental submarine. He saw the look on her face and said indignantly. “I have had lessons you know,” she grinned cheekily, and he grabbed her close and hugged her.

  “Gosh, I love you so much,” he whispered in her ear. “But we are in big trouble and I need help getting the equipment working again,” he explained about the cameras, lights, and sensors, and the short time left before the current took hold again.

  “What I need you to do is get as many technicians as you can, who can dive, to come with me outside, and replace the damaged parts. Speak to Bill, he will understand and help you.”

  “From what I saw,” said Carla, “Bill won’t be much help!”

  “He will,” assured Max, “He is a weak character, but show him the way and he will do what needs to be done.”

  “OK!” She said and slipped away to talk with Bill.

  Joe Buck was holding a conference, discussing options and trying to come up with a plan. Any good workable plan would do, as long as it was his. Bill and his fellow technicians tried to explain what the problems were, but Buck was only interested in solutions.

  Carla took Bill to one side and told him what Max had said. Bill could see it made perfect sense, but could only argue about the enormous personal risk to the divers. “You will die for certain in here,” she countered. “At least you control your own fate out there and stand a good chance of living another day.”