Counterpoint

by John Day

  She was right, thought Bill.

  “OK! I’ll get my men together and get this job done,” he said resolutely, the sound of his own voice, strong and determined, overcame any lingering self-doubt.

  “Max will join you at the pointy end and go with you outside, so will I,” she stressed.

  “I’ll tell you what to do as we go, then,” Bill replied.

  Unnoticed by Buck and his supporters, Bill and six technicians went forward to the access chambers. Two other technicians brought the replacement electronic equipment as the dive team donned their dive gear. It was decided to use mixed gasses regulated by haemoglobin-sensors inserted into an ear lobe. The signals were then interpreted by a computer, attached to motorised valves on their breathing apparatus.

  All the electronic devices outside the hull were easily replaced. A simple clip held them in place within a very thick glass tube. Electric current passed to the device by magnetic induction, as Bill explained to Carla. “It was a bit like charging your toothbrush when you placed it on its stand. Signals from the device were transmitted through the glass to detectors inside the hull, just like a television remote control.”

  There were forty device clusters to replace along the hull and each member of the eight divers would deal with five replacements. Defective device clusters would emit red light, working ones would not. Bill ordered the strongest swimmers to head for the rear. “It is a bloody long way to swim, but there is no other way. The priority is the front, these must be done at all costs , so Jim and I will go to the bow, Max and Carla you must do the ones from the hatch, forward, and don’t forget, the ones under the hull are slightly less important at this time if the current forces us to return before completing.”

  The four divers heading to the stern entered the chamber first, 15 minutes had ticked by already, and just one hour of safe time remained. Another 5 minutes later and the last four divers entered the chamber, each sick with fear, wondering what it would be like outside.

  The water flooded into the chamber, swirling around their feet like extremely hot bath water, in the bright lit steel tank, rising rapidly around them, suffocating as it crept higher, past their face plates.

  The pitch blackness outside when the steel door to the chamber swung open, the deafening low pitched rumble from hell’s gateway below, rooted all the divers to the spot with fear. The bright, safe light in the chamber offered comfort and protection, whereas out there in the blackness it was terrifying.

  Max launched himself through the opening, turned and beckoned the others to follow. Way below on the seabed the occasional dull red glow of spewing lava glimmered as the long jagged gash in the chasm floor opened and closed.

  The others joined him and with a great sense of urgency, set off to complete their tasks.

  Everyone quickly succumbed to the oppressive hot water and unzipped their protective rubber suits as they swam. The frequent icy swirl of tortured water was a bittersweet pain and relief, just enough to keep them going.

  The divers at the stern reached the far end in record time; they were exhausted though dragging their large bags of replacement electronics and had consumed a lot of air. They split up, one above the hull, one below and the other two, one each side. Slowly they swam back looking for the small red light from defective units. None of them heard the explosion from the front of the US1, over the rumble from below!

  Bill left Max and Carla near the hatch and swam off with Jim Boswell towards the bow. Jim chose the left side of the sub and Bill took the right. The hot water caused the gasses in the fully filled cylinders to expand way beyond their safe pressure limit. Those divers that consumed air quickly either due to exertion, or fear, had reduced the volume of gas before it overheated and kept the cylinder pressure at a safer level. Jim was young, fit and fearless, also an experienced diver. His main cylinder exploded with no warning. The large metal chunks from the exploding cylinder shredded his lean body like a grenade, leaving a large cloud of blood and entrails hanging in the water. No one heard or saw what happened except poor Jim. His brain instantly registered the disintegration of his torso, and the thick, smothering blackness that closed in on him, as he slowly sank towards hell itself.

  Swirling currents soon carried the smell of fresh blood, away into the endless blackness, up the tunnel. The flow of the current had turned.

  The process of replacing the devices was so easy. The red light illuminated the surround to the glass device housing, a quick thrust of a tool like a blunt screwdriver into a matching hole and out popped the device on a captive spring. The new device aligned easily on a key way, and easily pushed home with a final click. About a second later, the red light went out and that part of the display, restored in the control room.

  As soon as each diver had used up his five devices, he returned to the chamber and waited for his part of the team. When four had arrived, they re-entered the sub. Max and Carla finished first, then Bill. They grew concerned for Jim, long before one of the stern team appeared in the chamber, but decided to wait for Jim in the sub. The other three then returned as soon as the chamber re-opened. Max asked Bill to check what devices were still faulty.

  “All the units Jim was replacing,” replied Bill grimly; a quick look at all the working monitors gave no hint of Jim’s fate.

  “He might be out of sight in his sector,” suggested one of the technicians, responsible for the stern repairs.

  Everyone murmured hopeful agreement, but knew deep down it was very unlikely. Not wishing to be heartless, Max pointed out that Jim’s area was still blind, the units still had to be replaced.

  “I will go back out and replace them and find Jim if he is there,” asserted Max. “Get me more units and I will kit up again.”

  They all wanted Jim back safe, they all knew the units had to be replaced; no one wanted to go back out again, anything but out there.

  Carla started to kit up as well; she could not face it, really, and hoped someone else would volunteer, so Max could stay with her, safe.

  The truth was, no one was that stupid, Max said he would go, so let him!

  “Bill, while we are outside, watch the current and the vessels drift. Do you think one of the Pilots might be up to keeping us clear of the tunnel walls or do you think we had better rely on the computer, now we have most of the sensors working?”

  “I’ll see,” he replied as Max and Carla entered the chamber.

  The thunderous rumble pounded them again as the massive outer metal door swung open. Out they swam. Sharing the weight of the bag they made their way to the Bow, following the red lights on the left side. There was no sign of Jim. The current was much stronger now and the water, hotter. As they turned and swam back to the first device, Max looked into Carla’s faceplate, her short blond hair drifted in the current and in the light of his torch, could see her smile back. If they had to die, at least they would be together. Max’s eyes drifted to her pressure gauge on her wrist. In an instant, he grabbed her spare mouth piece and his, pressing the centre purge button. Clouds of bubbles streamed between them as he frantically lowered the cylinder pressure. Carla panicked for a moment, not realising what Max was doing with her precious life-giving gasses, but then it dawned on her, Jim was not coming back because his cylinder must have exploded. During the 30-second purge, the current had swept them away from the bow of the sub, and apart from the lava glow beneath them, now they were in total blackness. Frantically they swept their torches around like light sabres hoping to catch a glimpse of the hull, but nothing!

  Based on their possible drift, possibly up, possibly down, and the glow from the seabed, they headed back towards the sub as fast as they could. The lava glow was still below them, so Max figured they were more likely under the sub or else it would block out the glow. Logically true, only if they had managed to swim back to the sub! Pointing slightly upwards as they swam, they both searched for the sub with their torches. Carla spotted the hull first, then the nearest red device light. Max followed her u
rgent gesture, within a few seconds he popped out and replaced the first unit.

  The swimming had exhausted both of them, adrenaline was no longer being pumped into their panicking bodies and the increasing heat was overwhelming them.

  Max knew the time had run out for them. Slipping three devices in his open suit top he gestured Carla to take the last one, and head back to the hatch. She knew she had to fit the unit nearest the hatch and Max would fit the other three and catch up.

  No point wasting time arguing by sign language, she headed back.

  In some respects, without Carla to worry about, Max could focus on his task. He quickly fitted his three devices, and although his exhausted body no longer obeyed his brain, he struggled on towards the oval disk of bright white light. The many accounts of near death experiences often mentioned this phenomenon; the struggle to get to the white light. The rumble of hells fury on the seabed seemed almost quiet now, it was more of a distant sound like an aircraft disappearing in the distance, not the full immersion sensation he had been swimming in. Perhaps he was dying. Perhaps the light was not the open hatch. Why struggle any longer, his brain still had thoughts, but where was his body? The concept of up and down suddenly didn’t mean anything. What did up mean? Breathing was so difficult now, the rasping sound as he pulled air in was not as he remembered it, why the roar and bubbles as he breathed out?

  The sun kissed fair skin of Carla’s beautiful face beamed at him as they walked in the Dukes garden, on the plateau. He could smell the fresh air warmed by the sun and tinged by the fragrance of her delicate perfume.

  As Max and Carla left the chamber, Bill Davis ran to sickbay and roused John Farmer from a deep drug induced sleep. His injuries were painful, but he sustained no broken bones or serious damage, when the rolling sub pitched him out of the Pilot’s seat.

  “John! John!” shouted Bill, “We need you back at the controls. Two divers are in trouble and are drifting away; you are the only one who can help!”

  John stirred and tried to move, but the pain from his neck, shoulder and lower back made him gasp loudly as he fell back. The pain soon cleared his mind as he listened to what Bill was telling him.

  “You must get to the controls and follow the divers before they drift too far in the rising current.”

  John slowly eased himself off the cot, with Bill’s help they made their way back to the control room.

  The Senator saw what was happening and assumed Bill had things working again, and the Pilot was about to get them to safety. Then, in the monitor, he saw the drifting diver and another one clinging to the rim of the open hatch. He called out to Bill and demanded to know what was going on, but Bill just ignored him and helped the wincing Pilot into his seat.

  “Try and catch up with the drifting diver and bring him within reach of the hatch. I hope the girl at the rim can pull him in. We can’t get out to help, because the hatch is open, we can’t close it with her in the way.”

  John Farmer nodded and focused on the tricky manoeuvre. It should have been simple in theory, to accelerate gently forward sliding the enormous hull under Max until he was just above the open hatch, then pull him in. The moment the computer control was disengaged, the sub started to move. It drifted with the current, but the rear started to swing around, and the bow was no longer aligned with Max. The thrusters easily corrected the sub’s attitude, but their turbulence and eddy currents from the tunnel wall swept Max around like a tea leaf in a stirred cup. John could see the diver clearly; he was not responding in any way, he was either dead or drowning. A burst of forward thrust from the main engine, just as the diver became aligned over the hull regained control. John saw the girl was reaching up and had grabbed the man, pulling him down into the chamber as he slammed into the open door. Seconds later, the large steel chamber hatch swung closed.

  As soon as the inner chamber door opened, crew stripped Max’s diving equipment from his lifeless body, feeling for a pulse and breathing as soon as they could. There were no signs except Max had a good colour, no tinge of blue on his lips so there might still be a chance.

  Carla looked on, stifling back the tears while the crew worked frantically, one pumping his chest while the other squeezed air into him through an inserted airway. Moments later, Kate Winslow appeared with vital equipment.

  Senator Joe Buck quizzed Bill Davis about what had happened. Buck realised now how dangerous the situation had been and why the electronic systems had stopped working. He also realised that when he was so preoccupied with seizing control, Max had done the only thing possible to save all of them by attempting to steer out of trouble. Now the man was probably lying dead on the hard, wet steel floor, after trying to find a missing diver and completing the repairs. Even from the safety and comfort of the control room monitor, Joe Buck shuddered at the thought of going out there in the infinite blackness.

  “How is he Bill?” Buck asked, concerned for someone else for a change. Bill shook his head and looked down at the floor. “A goner, I think, probably heat exhaustion and his heart packed up. The girl who pulled him in is in a terrible emotional state, tough little thing, an FBI agent by all accounts. Can’t think why she is so upset though, surely she doesn’t think she could have done more to save him?”

  The pain of electrocution shot through Max’s arching body as it convulsed. Sounds of raised voices and commands penetrated the lifting blackness, bright light and movement assaulted his senses as Max regained consciousness. The defibrillator Kate Winslow used had worked.

  Carla burst into tears of joy as she fell on him and hugged him. The crew were surprised at her outburst, unaware of her relationship, and asked her to move back to give Max air. As she started to move away, Max pulled her head down and whispered in her ear. “So angels do wear wet rubber after all, I think I will like it here!”

  Saying nothing in reply, she got up and went to sickbay to wait for him.

  As Max was carried through the control room, Joe Buck thanked Max for what he had done. All over me now thought Max, didn’t want to know me when you had me carted off to the storeroom. Max replied offhandedly, but with a sting, “just saving my own ass Joe, don’t take it personally!”

  Joe laughed until the penny dropped, but Max was gone.

  Chapter - Radiation and black terror.

  In the sick bay, Bill Davis asked Max what to do next, the current had risen to eight knots already, he advised.

  “Better see what the Senator wants to do,” Max replied sarcastically. Max was grateful for all Bill had just done for him, but still felt he let him down when the Senator ordered Max to be locked up.

  “The Senator is just a puff-bag politician, I want to get out of this mess alive, and that won’t happen with Buck talking about it. He can go to hell for all I care.”

  “Well, if we do get out of here, I hope you won’t hate yourself for this decision,” warned Max. Bill was resolute, Max was a winner, and Bill wanted to be part of his team.

  “Go and see what the Pilot has to say, Bill. We need to move forward as fast as possible. There is no way back now! Set the navigation computer to control the sub, maintaining an equal distance from the channel walls and a depth 500 meters below the roof of the tunnel. I doubt we shall have a problem with the seabed it is about 3000meters the last time I checked.”

  Bill went off to discuss the suggestion with the Pilot and then out of courtesy, told Senator Buck.

  Ingrid Goodman had made herself busy and organised food and drinks for everyone. She was secretly glad there was no way back, and the sub was moving forward again. Actually, the engines were in reverse to counter the fifteen-knot current from behind. The Pilot wanted a five-knot forward ground speed for safety, no faster!

  The tunnel had so far proved to be remarkably straight and consistent, except for the large variation in headroom above. Huge caverns had formed when, over time, the rock had dropped away and eroded to sand on the seabed. The vast amount of data Ingrid had collected so far, showed constant subterranea
n volcanic activity, and many interesting veins of minerals. Due to the interruption of the navigation system, their precise position along the tunnel was an unknown and future exploration of minerals from above would be practically impossible, because of this. Still, the system might catch up if it continued uninterrupted until they emerged at the other end.

  A routine check on readings was due, now she had finished feeding everyone. To Ingrid’s surprise, background radiation had increased and was getting stronger. It was in the region of 0.4Gy, almost half way to the red zone.

  If she said nothing, perhaps it would soon drop back; it was probably just a small vein of Uranium. If the others knew about the radiation, they would panic and possibly turn round and go back, risking the volcanic activity.

  Still the level continued to rise. The decision to tell everyone was suddenly taken out of her hands. Alarm sounders went off in the control room. The reactor rods actuated, and power levels dropped as the system shut down. The system diagnosed a radiation leak of massive proportions throughout the vessel. Without primary power from the reactor, the battery system took over, however, there were only minutes of energy available at the speed the motors were working, in this current.

  At first, Ingrid did not realise the reactor had shut down due to the high background radiation. Startled at the loss of light and power to her equipment she ran to the control room. She passed technicians running to the reactor in protective suits, to locate the perceived leak.

  “What’s the matter, she cried?”

  “Radiation leak!” someone shouted back.

  “Are you sure?” she said with a dawning realisation in her voice.

  Joe buck answered her in a quavering voice. “The detectors have located radiation everywhere, they believe it is a vapour from the reactor, spread by the ventilation system.”