2042: The Great Cataclysm

by Melisande Mason

  Joe slid down the drop cable slowly, gently tapping his left foot to control the ADS in a slow dive. Clouds of frothy bubbles floated around him as he descended to the seabed. The bottom loomed toward him and he played the searchlight beam mounted on the top of the head dome over the scene, but could not seen the familiar yellow hull of the Bunyip through the haze of swirling mud.

  He signalled for Enrico to move in the opposite direction and they set off on a grid pattern, back and forth over the co-ordinates Nick had given Sam. At each turn they placed a coloured peg from their leg pack between the rocks as a guide. Joe’s breathing was easy as he slowly moon-walked over piles of black rock. Blackness of the darkest night surrounded him, and the yellow searchlight projected only a few feet ahead. The metal detector he held remained silent. His leaded boots grazed over the jagged rocks, and he found it difficult to remain upright as he slowly snaked around the position where the Bunyip was supposed to be.

  ‘Can’t see a thing Sam. Too much mud. We’ve started the grid. Over.’

  ‘I’ve lost radio contact.’ Sam said. ‘They’ll be scared shitless without it. Work the grid, and do it again if you have too. Out.’

  Hours later Joe had lost all sense of time and place, his body began to cramp and he was convinced Bunyip was gone. He was on the second grid when the metal detector vibrated gently. He stopped and directed the light between his feet. Deep down between a crack the light caught a yellow flash.

  He fell to his knees and heaved on the smaller surrounding rocks to widen the space. Thick mud swirled over his helmet. His heart missed a beat as he saw a small patch of yellow.

  ‘I’ve found her Sam! I can see a small section of her hull under the rocks. Enrico! Get over here. Latitude sixty-six degrees, twenty-eight mins longitude, one sixty-eight degrees fifty-five minutes. Over.’

  Sam butted in. ‘I’m sendin’ down cables and the other ADS diver. What else do you need? Over.’

  ‘A bit of luck I’d say. It’s going to take some time.’ Joe turned to look around but it was like being in a small tomb with a lighted match, silent and eerie with nothingness at the edges. ‘Um, I’m a bit nervous about more tremors. Over.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Nick said the rumblin’ stopped three hours ago. Help’s on the way. Good job man. Standby. Out.’

  While he waited for the other divers to arrive Joe surveyed the area and assessed what had to be done. Most of the rocks he could see immediately around him gave no indication of the extent of the job they faced. The AD suit would support him for hours but it would not sustain his energy levels. He figured he would be good for six hours, then he would need to surface for a replacement. The depth here was beyond the limit an ordinary scuba diver could tolerate, so they were restricted to using only the AD suits. He had no way of knowing how long it would take, disorientation, fear of the unknown and the icy sea temperature being major hurdles.

  Enricho arrived and he and Joe began by hooking a steel cable from the Platypus around a rock that concealed the yellow flash Joe had seen. Swirling mud agitated by their every movement hampered their vision, and the Pincers although quite easy to use did not possess the senses of human hands. As a consequence the job of placing the cable securely around the rock failed several times as it fell away into the blackness.

  It was only after the third diver arrived that they were able to get enough leverage to secure the cable. Joe gave the signal to the ship above and the cable tightened and dragged the first rock away from the stricken Bunyip.

  ***

  Inside the sub the men heard a distant scrape, different to the sound of the falling rocks that had ceased hours ago, and a great cheer went up.

  ‘They’ve found us.’ Wolf cried. ‘Thank God!’

  Nick wasn’t sure and he was not about the dampen their spirits by suggesting it may be more rocks falling.

  After the radio went out he had not wanted to voice his fear, but he had been deathly afraid. More afraid than when he and his brother stood over their father’s grave with the dreadful realisation that they were all alone in the world.

  Jeremy nursed his arm wrapped in the sling Nick has fashioned. Nick could only find aspirin in the medical kit which helped, but failed to stop the pain. Now with hope of rescue he moved without moaning.

  For hours they had been consumed by fear, and even though they were still in deadly danger, the colour returned to their ashen faces. They had no idea how deep they were buried or how long it would take the divers to dig them out.

  Nick decided they should celebrate and suggested they have a meal. In one corner of the sphere was a small cupboard that pulled down to form a table, where Beau had stashed the day’s supply of sandwiches and flasks of hot coffee. Last night the cook had prepared fresh muffins, and right now this sounded like a welcome idea as the men were eager to have something to take their minds off their predicament.

  Five hours later, dried up, leftover sandwiches and cold coffee littered the small table and the sounds of scraping above them grew louder. Condensation from their hot breaths in the cold sphere clouded the fisheyes, yet perspiration glistened on every visible part of their bodies. The playing cards were scattered across the floor where Wolf had flung them. Now he sat with arms crossed, huddled as far from the others as the small space would allow. The elation they felt at their discovery had drained away as the clock ticked on with no sign of the divers breaking through.

  Nick fiddled with the air conditioner to keep the temperature at a tolerable level that would not drain the emergency batteries.

  ‘What d’you think their doing out there?’ Wolf asked nobody in particular.

  Beau slapped the communications mike. ‘What a time for the bloody radio to quit! If we just knew what they’re doing.’

  ‘The rocks are blocking the signal,’ Wolf said. ‘They’re Basalt with a high presence of oxide minerals that increase their magnetic signature.’

  Beau’s mouth dropped. ‘Great. So your saying we have to wait till they move the rocks? Try that fancy computer of yours Jeremy.’

  ‘No good. The Satcom won’t work at this depth.’

  Communications in the year 2030 with the aid of Satcom had made giant leaps forward, to the point that every ship could be seen and pinpointed anywhere on the ocean at any time of day or night, except for submarines below thirty metres, who had to rely on the old fashioned radios.

  Although Jeremy did not complain Nick saw that he had removed his glasses and his eyes were glazed. Sweat oozed from his pale face and he gritted his teeth with each movement. Nick passed him some more aspirin. ‘Take it easy mate. Can’t be too much longer.’

  The internal temperature of five degrees Celsius was bearable for six hours, but it had been eleven hours since the first shock downed them, and due to the lack of mobility the men felt the cold beginning to penetrate their green bodysuits. These suits were made of a material that could insulate the wearer against cold or warmth, depending on the colour. Most of the world’s population wore clothes made of this material, which was very effective, but now the sustained cold atmosphere of the Bunyip forced them to don heavy jackets.

  On board Platypus a crane laboured over the side, lifting, dragging and dropping rocks away from the stricken Bunyip. Joe and Enrico had returned from their six-hour shift and two relief divers had replaced them. They worked this way non-stop through the night, changing shifts, moving rocks. Nature gave them a reprieve and the wind force had died down to a tolerable level. Ice glazed the deck and the ship rolled and dipped into the unforgiving sea, but it did not stop the crane crew who fought the battle non-stop.

  The reports from the divers were not encouraging. They worked in an area where they could see barely two metres in front of them, where every move reduced that to centimetres. They had no idea if they worked in the direction required to free the Bunyip. Sam had sent down a hydrostat, a sophisticated successor to the hydrophone, but at this depth until the divers could attach it to the hull of the Bunyip it ha
d no use.

  Joe was on his second shift the next morning when they exposed a square metre of the hull. It rested two metres below the surface of the rocks. ‘Only twenty-odd feet to go, but which direction?’ He sighed, his voice flat and defeated. He thumped the pincers at the end of his arm against the hull.

  Joe lowered one of the heavy crowbars into the exposed hole and tapped against the titanium hull to let them know he had found them. He then lowered the hydrostat ensuring the umbilical cord to the Platypus didn’t snag on any rough edges.

  Inside Bunyip they heard the faint taps muffled by the seven-inch thickness of the hull.

  ‘That definitely was not rocks!’ Nick exclaimed.

  They cheered, and Jeremy sparked to attention. ‘Holy mother …..’

  ‘Shhush!’ Nick padded his hand palm down in the air. ‘Sam will know to use the hydrostat so they’ll be able to hear us, but we can’t hear him. Sam! Can you hear me? Get the diver to tap twice to acknowledge. Over.’ Nick strained to listen. ‘Sam, get the diver to tap twice. Loud. Over.’

  Two soft taps sounded. ‘Okay. This’s going to be bloody difficult. How deep are we buried? Tap the number of metres.’ They counted off one, two. Nick’s heart dropped. Two metres of rock on top of them! His mind raced to compute the amount of time he felt it would take to remove the rocks.

  ‘Wolf says if the divers clear an area of rocks…’ he turned to Wolf. ‘How big?’

  ‘Six feet square should do it.’

  ‘….six feet square, Sam. Then we can get a signal for the Satcom. Relay and confirm with four taps. Over.’

  Smiles and backslapping accompanied the four taps. Nick knew they were safe and it was just a matter of time.

  They had five to six days of oxygen supply, plenty of water from the desalination system and emergency rations on board. They could hold out. It would be very uncomfortable and most of all for Jeremy. A broken arm under these conditions was agonising, he needed medical attention and soon. Nick admonished himself for not having something stronger for pain relief and vowed to add it to the medical kit.

  Conversation had become stagnant, so Wolf began a lecture on Paleomagnetism - the study of the record of earths magnetic field in rocks, most of which went straight over Beau’s head, but intrigued Nick and Jeremy and helped to keep their minds off the passing of time. Beau patiently filled out a crossword puzzle Jeremy had printed off the computer, every now and then enquiring about an obscure question. After three hours he tried the radio. ‘Come in Sam. Can you hear me? Sam! Over...’

  Silence! He dropped the microphone and flung himself on the seat beside Nick and began chewing his fingernails.

  Nick removed the rubber tie from his hair, leaned forward and shook his hair loose. He grabbed some paper and started making small tight balls that he flicked across the sphere with the rubber tie. Wolf and Beau hurled them back and a full scale paper war started. Jeremy managed a smile, enjoying their antics, and occasionally when one came his way he hurled it back.

  The rubber tie snapped and with it the frivolity. Nick suggested they have a competition to see who could grow the longest beard declaring Wolf out of the race as he already sported a fiery red one. He managed to raise some enthusiasm among the others for five minutes!

  Beau began checking his instruments again and they waited for a signal from the divers. Continuous loud bangs and deep rumbling noises deafened them, as rocks were laboriously dragged from the hull. Testing the radio every half hour gave Beau a focus and enabled him to keep his spirits up. Jeremy plunked away at Solitaire on his computer while Nick and Wolf discussed the seismic influences and their possible outcome.

  Emergency rations lost their appeal, and half eaten energy bars and paper cups filled the waste box. Nick fuelled by nervous tension, crammed his one-eighty-five centimetre frame into the small toilet compartment more times that he needed, emerging each time with hair dripping water.

  At five PM on the second day the radio crackled back to Beau. ‘Yo. Beau. D’you hear me? Over.’

  ‘Aahhh. Music from heaven Sam. Never thought I’d be so happy to hear your voice. Over.’

  Nick grabbed the microphone. ‘Nick here Sam. Are the divers patched in? Over.’

  Joe’s gravel voice joined the conversation. ‘Hey Nick, hope you guys are cozy in there. It’s like working in shit out here. Seems you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Um, from what we can gather you must’ve been passing under a ledge when a tremor shook it loose. We’ve managed to clear away a patch of rocks about eight square feet, probably that much again to go. At least we can now recognise which end of Bunyip we’re at. What’s your main problem Nick? Over.’

  ‘I’m worried about the emergency batteries. We’ve shut everything off bar the life support system. It’s like sitting in a fridge here. Over.’

  ‘Sit tight. There’s three of us here. We’ll get you out soon. Out.’

  ‘Thanks Joe. Standing by. Out.’

  Beau and Wolf hollered and slapped palms and Jeremy straightened from his slouch with a wide grin. Nick reached for the instant coffee jar. ‘Not that muck again!’ Beau joked. ‘Haven’t we got any champagne?’

  Nick laughed. ‘You wish!’

  Beau picked up a half eaten muesli bar and held it in the air. ‘Anyone for caviar?’

  ‘I could even go a game of Euchre.’ Nick said. ‘But Wolf’s wrecked the cards.’

  Wolf pulled at his jaw. ‘Ya. Don’t know what got into me.’

  ‘So fellas. Think we can all get some sleep now?’ Nick lifted his watch. ‘Tomorrow’s only hours away.’

  ***

  On day three the men awoke to Joe’s gravel voice filling the sphere, and there was a tap on one of the fisheyes. They looked to see an ugly set of pincers waving from outside. The divers had finally opened the lid of their tomb!

  ‘Morning boys! Time to shake loose the cobwebs. You’re free as a bird. Bad news is the housing’s been crushed agains the prop. We’re trying to lever it off. This’s one tough baby! Can’t see any major damage apart from some paint scraped off. Over.’

  Sam butted in. ‘Joe, I’m sendin’ down the power lever. Over.’

  ‘That’ll do the trick,’ Joe said. ‘We’ll have you out of there in no time Nick. Over.’

  Nick felt the adrenalin rise and his heart pumped faster. In the seven years he had spent in the Bunyip he had never been under such a threat, and now he knew what it was like to face death. He felt a slap on his shoulder and Wolf’s grinning face laughed into his. ‘My friend. I thought we we’d had it this time.’

  ‘No way! I knew they’d rescue us.’ Nick laughed. ‘Sam wouldn’t dare lose us.’

  Finally, an hour later a diver appeared at a fisheye and made winding up signals to indicate the propeller was free.

  Beau hovered his finger over the starter button. ‘Here goes! Start you bastard.’ He exclaimed, punching buttons furiously. The motor turned over and whirred with a low pitched growl under the excessive demand on it’s power. For a moment she felt like a cork about to pop. They could feel the strain as Bunyip battled to pull free of the last restraints around her. A rapid jerk hurled them around the sphere again. Thens she rose smoothly and gently from her grave to begin her climb to freedom.

  That evening Nick broke out the rum and the ship celebrated their rescue. The Bunyip had suffered only minor damage by the rocks that had lodged in the propeller. The engineer assured him a new propeller housing could be made and apart from the cosmetic damage to the hull, she would be one hundred percent perfect again.

  Nick decided the following day was to be a rest day while they worked on the Bunyip, and he received no argument from Beau and Wolf, but a heated one from Jeremy when he told him he would be ship-bound for the rest of the trip.

  ‘We were lucky mate.’ Nick said. ‘That tremor could be the first of many. What if we strike more. Bigger? You won’t be in any state to help.’

  ‘It’s only a broken arm! It won’t stop me from doi
ng my job. Doc’s fixed me up, it’s an inconvenience not a bloody handicap! You need me down there.’

  ‘If this trip wasn’t so important I’d send you back home for R and R.’

  ‘Not bloody likely,’ Jeremy argued. ‘I’m staying, and I’m going down with you!’

  Nick sighed. He knew Jeremy would get his way. ‘Okay. Okay! But the minute you fall down you’re out of here.’

  Chapter Six

  Two days later the Bunyip had been fixed and they resumed their trip north on the trail of the devils pitchfork, a term scientists had given the necklace of volcanoes and undersea eruptions that forced lava from the bowels of the earth through the seabed in this region.

  Nick admired Wolf’s courage, he hadn’t expected him to get back into the Bunyip, but there he sat with two large bumps on his forehead, pulling at his beard. The first time Bunyip jittered Beau crossed himself and the others reached for a support. At the forefront of their minds was the threat of meeting more tremors or eruptions, and the thought that perhaps next time they would not be so lucky.

  What they found at Mururoa, Unimak and now here, were swarms of hundreds of thousands of slow moving, low frequency earthquakes, that were a forecast of larger earthquakes in the magnitude of eight or nine plus. The Pacific oceanic plate being the largest, doesn’t move in a continuous manner, some parts move faster than others and when it meets resistance these swarms occur, and when they do lava breaks through onto the seafloor.

  Nick’s fears deepened. Ice bergs loomed around them like white ghosts in the eternal dark. They formed weird shapes, thrusting out white ridges worn smooth by the whirling currents, as they floated silently on their insidious journey.

  Just when Nick decided they’d had enough for the day an eerie sight confronted them. The men strained against the small fisheyes of the sub as the scene ahead grew nearer and clearer. The Bunyip’s bright searchlights pierced the freezing, murky depths through the limited vision, picking up what first appeared to be a ghostly sunken ship. As they approached they were able to make out more dark shapes.