by John Day
The second team had completed their work and the cover plate was being refitted. Everyone was sick with the smell of boiled fish and prayed the air filtration system would soon clear the air.
Ten minutes later, the crew was getting anxious about the progress from the two outside the hull.
Their work done, Max and Carla were heading back to the chamber when suddenly; all the fish disappeared into the blackness.
The monitor screens now clearly displayed the blackness around the sub and the two divers swimming strongly towards the hatch. The display also showed the rock face racing by, on one side of the channel.
The loud beeping of the collision alarm startled the crew in the control room. All eyes turned to a flashing red circle on the under hull monitor. Whatever had caused it to activate, it was not in visible range yet. A list of data about the approaching object, rising up from the depths, showed it was about 2.5 metres diameter, 23 meters long and moving at about 25 knots. No one could guess what it was, but it was big, solid and definitely coming straight at them.
“Brace for collision!” warned Bill, “It will be here in about one minute.”
Everyone standing, sat down and strapped in or grabbed something immovable for support as they watched both, the red circle and the approaching divers. Would Max and Carla reach the open hatch in time, so the sub could move out of the way or would the object strike them, or the sub? The seconds ticked by, it was going to be close. The red circle vanished and was replaced by the now visible object. The growing dot of light seemed to change colour, pulsing red and orange with a fringe of white. The magnified view showed the colour change was random waves that passed over the visible surface and the white were bright specks that defined a circular outline. Almost on them, the shape veered off to one side of the hull, giving everyone a clear view of this new terror from the deep.
Carla was vertical over the hatch opening, about to descend into the chamber when Max turned away and saw the approaching mass of light. As it shot up and away from the sub, Max pushed Carla down in the chamber to relative safety. The massive Humboldt squid looped back, and with the two longest tentacles, snatched Max away into the darkness. Totally disorientated, Max struggled to keep his faceplate from being torn away by the slipstream of water as he was dragged at great speed into the darkness. He could feel the grip of the eight other shorter tentacles propelling him along the ring-fence tube of rubbery flesh. His helmet light picked out the large suckers, edged with hook like teeth that ripped into the outer rubber suit and grated on the thin aluminium body armour underneath. Hardly daring too, he directed his light at the root of the tentacles. At first, it was difficult to make it out, but when he did, he froze in utter terror. An absurd thought passed through his mind, it looked like a foreskin with a parrot’s beak inside, but of truly massive proportions. It was the squid’s mouth. As the foreskin pulled back, the beak opened and snapped shut. Renowned for intelligence, it knew how to toy with its prey. It knew that its victim could never escape its clutches. By teasing, with a slow journey to an agonising death, it could prolong the mental torture. Just three meters away from that vicious beak, Max could now appreciate its sheer size, fully open; a man could pass inside without touching the razor sharp edges. The creature had no intention of swallowing this morsel whole, though; it would be done excruciatingly slowly, bite by bite.
Because the eyes of the squid were outside the ring of tentacles, feeding was all done by touch. The retractable foreskin of the flesh, around the beak, would extend out and around the victim like lips, drawing it onto the snapping beak.
Max released the harness that supported the welding cylinders to his body and clutching the regulator, fully opened the valves. Thrusting the cylinders into the open beak with one hand, he operated the welding torch with the other. Try as he might, it would not ignite. The beak shuts hard on the steel cylinders, causing the bony substance to shatter with a shriek of grating metal. The squids long ribbon like tongue, covered with hook like rasping teeth tried frantically to eject the cylinders, but Max kept it in place. The tentacles pressed down on Max, trying to impale him on the tip of the beak, but he straddled it and slipped down outside it into the root of the tentacles. By stamping down hard on the end of the welding torch he drove the long tip into the creature's flesh like a short dagger. The creature hardly felt it, being more intent on getting rid of the cylinders and eating its victim. Gas poured into the body tissues and cavities, its rapid expansion causing the metal welding tip to freeze and bond with the flesh wound. The squid’s body was filling rapidly with oxygen and acetylene, making it very buoyant. Although the creature tried to dive deeper, it could not overcome the upward force. In a panic, it released Max and ejected the cylinders, but not the frozen tip. The gas still poured into its body. At great speed, the squid headed off into the darkness trying to dive, leaving Max in the middle of blackness, all alone and completely lost.
Everyone aboard the sub, except Carla and the crew helping her re-enter, saw the attack on Max and watched awestruck until the squid finally left. With Carla safely aboard, the sub edged closer to Max hoping he would see the sub and be able to swim into the chamber. Just 500 metres from him, the collision alarm went off again. This time, the squid was circling high above, and a large number of high speed objects, most likely other squids, were closing on the sub.
Bill shouted to the pilot to hurry. “Get the sub to Max before the squids do!”
The Pilot was doing his best, but 10,000 tonnes cannot manoeuvre like a car.
The chamber crew had already opened the outer door and turned the light on inside, although Max would not see it until he was above it. Closer they drew and thankfully, Max turned and started swimming hard towards the hatch. The group of squid swerved around the hull and into Max. Four or five struck him hard like a flying tackle on a child, but then continued to their main target, the injured squid. As intelligent creatures, the main meal was going to be the larger squid, but if they could injure or kill Max, he would still be around for those who wanted desert!
Swimming weakly, Max made his way to the safety of the hatch. As the huge steel door swung closed, he sank slowly to the bottom as the water drained away and let black clouds of unconsciousness sweep over him. He was safe at last.
Chapter - No way out.
Max came round on the cot in sickbay. Carla fussed around him as he regained consciousness.
“Thank god your alive she cried, I never want to go through a fright like that again and as for fish, I never want to see one again, fish fingers included.
” Max smiled faintly and whispered, “I could do with a sip of brandy if you could find some?”
She shivered inwardly, but went to get some. She knew how good it was at revitalising the tired or injured body, but still felt revulsion at the thought of drinking alcohol.
Several hours later, feeling a bit better, Max went to the control room and asked what was happening. The US1 was running well and according to Ingrid’s calculations, they could be close to the end of the tunnel. Spirits were rising at the same rate as tension. Seeing their loved ones and home again, was getting closer with every second, but would they get through the exit to the Pacific Ocean? There was no good reason why this end should be any different to the other end; it had to be large to allow so much water to flow.
Ingrid cautioned everyone that it was possible for many small tunnels to achieve the same flow and that they might never find one large enough to get through!
Carla thought, that is the trouble with this girl, she is so negative, we didn’t come through so much and come so far just to turn back! There has to be a way!
Navigation reported light ahead, natural light that is, probably from the end of the tunnel. Everyone cheered before he went on to say that it was too small to get through, and they should go deeper, in the direction of the main flow.
Bill checked with Senator Joe Buck if that is what he wanted. Relieved that Max was not nearby to dilute his authori
ty, Buck readily agreed.
The US1 dived with the flow, a shallow angle at first, but soon at 45 degrees. The vessel had not been tested at its design depth, but soon would be, as the exit was some long way down yet.
At 500m below the design depth, the hull was making a peculiar ringing noise. Bill reckoned the distorted hull shape due to the water pressure of 360kgf/cm2, the size of a small postage stamp, was seizing the propulsion mechanism in its bearings. In essence, they were unable to continue! Engineering confirmed propulsion output was dropping rapidly, and motor temperature was dangerously high due to the overload.
What were they to do now? No one could face going back along the tunnel!
Joe Buck insisted they go deeper; he was used to steamrollering his way through problems, because he had done it all his life. He failed to appreciate that machinery and laws of physics had no fear of him, when their limit was reached, that was that.
Bill told the Navigator to back up to the surface and let the system cool down so they could try again. Buck agreed; a shit or bust charge to freedom was just how he saw the way out.
Hearing the motor pitch change and the motion of the vessel rising, Max and Carla went to the control room to see what was happening.
“What do you want?” Buck snapped irritably at Max.
“I wanted to see what a fine mess you want me to get you out of,” was Max’s stinging reply.
Turning to Bill, Max asked what was happening.
“Well, we cannot get through the hole at this level because it is far too small and whatever size the opening is down there,” he pointed. “We can’t get to it. We decided to come back up to cool off the motors and try again later.”
“Perhaps we should talk to Ingrid and see what she has to say, she certainly knows her rocks,” suggested Max.
Even Joe Buck agreed with this, and they called her.
Running through the problem with her did nothing to produce a solution, all she could say was that the small hole was likely to get rapidly larger in the next few hundred years. In geological terms, it was very new. The surrounding rock must be worn extremely thin.
Max then suggested Bill included his technicians in the discussion, because if the rock was thin, what did they have on board that could blow it open?
A couple of technicians had enough knowledge of chemistry to produce an explosive, but no practical experience to make something that would work under water and blast away rock in a predictable way. Ingrid said they should see how thick the rock actually was, before wasting time on discussing explosives. She would be prepared to swim out and look if someone would come with her; she had no real diving experience, but knew what to look for with the rock.
Two technicians who had helped fit the replacement hull devices, volunteered to go with her. With the current turning soon, they should get prepared at once.
As the three divers swam out through the hole, the daylight above tempted them to just keep going to the surface. The two men knew this was not an option, because they would need hours to decompress, and get rid of the dissolved gasses in their bodies.
It appeared the rock was no more than a meter thick. The inner part of the tunnel must have collapsed recently, like in the caverns, and left this thin shell in the face of a steeply sloping seabed.
A torpedo or two would be extremely handy just now.
Back at the US1 more talks took place, ideas were suggested, but when they were analysed, it was apparent they would never work.
The communications officer said. “If only they were not surrounded by rock, they could send up a distress buoy and radio back to base for help. If they released it where they were, all it would do is smash itself to pieces on the roof of the tunnel.”
Max thought about that for a moment and asked if it were possible to take it through the hole and let it rise to the surface.
“In theory, yes!” Said the officer. “But it is just a beacon so where would the rescue team look for us, certainly not in a small dark hole. If we could send up the communication Buoy, we could speak to the base and tell them our predicament. The Buoy is extremely buoyant though, because it has to support a long cable, so we could never drag the Buoy down and through the hole.”
“Perhaps we could,” suggested Bill. “If we attach sufficient ballast to hold it down till we get it through the hole, then release it, that would work.”
“It’s worth a try,” said Max. “Nothing else seems possible.”
John Farmer, the Pilot warned about the small window of opportunity they had. They must get the Buoy in place and make their transmission before the cable snapped due to the strong current. He explained that the cable would have to run horizontally from the US1 to the hole and then vertical. The cable would snap or chafe through where it touched the rock, the moment the US1 pulled back from the hole.
“Why not make up a simple frame to fit against the rock opening with, say, tireless wheels to act as guides for the cable, as it passes through the right angle.” Suggested Ingrid. “That way, it will never touch the rock and can feed through and back as the vessel moves. I took some rough measurements on the dive and can sketch up the details of the frame for someone to fabricate.”
” Let’s go for it!” Bellowed Joe Buck, realising this was the moment to take over and regain control. No one cared what he thought, they were pinning all their hopes on this flimsy scheme, and Ingrid was the flavour of the month.
By the time the current had subsided enough for the dive team to go out again, everything was ready. By using two portable generator wheels and a trolley wheel without their tyres, as frictionless guides, the cable could pass through the 90 degree angle without undue stress. The steel frame supporting the guides was complete with adjustable ends so it could grip convenient pockets in the rock and stay in position.
Various heavy metal items were to be used as ballast, to hold the Buoy down until it was finally released to the surface.
Max and Carla were pleased to stay behind and watch for a change, from the relative safety of the sub.
To improve their chances of getting the tasks done, one team fixed the frame while the other team wrestled with the Buoy. All went well and the Buoy bobbed to the surface, sending out its signal to the US1 base, via satellite. The Base was astonished to hear it, they were convinced the US1 had sunk to the bottom of the deep trench, was buried under the rock slide, as Montoya and Gruber had planned. The US1 rescue team’s sonar and magnetic readings had proved conclusively that is where they had ended up.
With Senator Joe Buck in command of the US1, he requested the rescue team to bring explosives to enlarge the hole in the rock face so they could drive the sub through and escape the tunnel. Within the hour, a team was on its way by air, to the Buoy.
Explosives were placed expertly around the hole, and the US1 pulled back. The communications Buoy had to be jettisoned, then because it could not be pulled back past the guide frame.
The shock wave from the detonation, rocked the vessel, but there was no damage. The question on everyone’s mind was, could they get through the hole now? It was very tight, and when the current had ceased flowing, they glided through to freedom.
The rescuers would not able to board for a day until everyone in the sub had fully decompressed. During that time, US1 would head for home through the Panama Canal.
Ingrid took the opportunity to write up the results of her tests and findings in the tunnel. A chance observation of the sea bed revealed millions of Manganese Nodules, probably a site larger than any other she had ever heard about.
An assault was made at the same time as US1’s rescue, on Montoya and Gruber’s underground base, capturing the unsuspecting personnel who were waiting for the return of US1. The captives confirmed that Ingrid was held against her will by Montoya and Gruber, much to Senator Goodwin’s relief.
Ingrid was able to lay claim to the discovery of the tunnel and the fame that went with it.
Sam was pleased the US1 had performed so
well under the circumstances; certainly, the officials were strongly supportive of the vessel which had gone, and returned, from where no man had been before.
Senator Joe Buck took full credit for the safe command of the vessel, and no one opposed him, Max and Carla had no wish to be identified, and Buck was not going to mention them either.
Chapter - The volcano mission.
The remote controlled vehicles had just completed loading the massive Antonov, known as a Condor cargo plane with 70 tonnes of deadly cargo in long missile like containers. One of two specially converted and un-manned planes, it flew under the control of a small, long-range aircraft nearby. The ground staff and flight crew were all members of the Russian Mafia. They had no contact with the rest of the C.N.W.D. Corp. in Egypt, except Robert Darrow. Knowing how hazardous the waste was, no one else ventured near this area of the complex. So far, 30 flights had been made during the last 60 days, there were just ten more to go, only then would Darrow get his family and life back.
To compensate for the heavy shielding around the sensitive electronics on the aircraft, the fuel rods were stripped down and packed in lightweight, neutron damping layers for the long journey ahead. It would be at least 10,000 years before the rods were safe enough to store conventionally.
With a deafening roar, the lumbering giant lifted reluctantly from the runway and into the clear blue sky over Egypt. Minutes later, its small companion took off, a safe distance behind.
Sam Leighton took the phone call he was expecting on his office phone. Pete Lewis, The Organisation’s geological advisor had eventually returned his call.
“Sorry I could not get back to you earlier Sam, there is a bit of a flap on at the moment. I have been sent out to investigate a curious form of volcanic activity at Plymouth Island in the Caribbean Sea.”