Z-Boat

by Suzanne Robb

  ***

  Ally entered the control room at the same time as Iain.

  "Ready to get us out of dry dock?"

  "Consider it done." Ally went over to her area and stood behind Tom.

  He was pushing buttons and doing something with the navigation panel, annoying her. She waited for him to move, but he didn't.

  "Hey, Tom, you mind moving so I can do my job?"

  "I can do this."

  "Hey, Tom, do you mind moving so I can do my job?" she repeated. The tone of Ally's voice and her stance were all the convincing Tom needed to move.

  He didn't mean to be like that, but guessed there was always some measure of a pissing contest when it came to piloting. He stood to the side as Ally got in her seat, effectively winning said pissing contest.

  Ally got comfortable and spent a few moments returning all the settings to the way she liked them. Then she went through the complicated set of motions to activate the crane holding the sub, lifting it high enough so it rose above the others getting overhauls and repairs.

  She keyed in the location to which she wanted the crane to move them and drop them. A few seconds later, there was a slight jolt, and they were in the water.

  "Water entry complete."

  "Good, now enter the place we're going." Iain sounded terser than usual, but Ally knew better than to ask about it with Tom present.

  "Coordinates of rescue destination already entered. Arrival should be in ten days."

  "I'll be in my quarters if you need anything." Iain walked out of the room.

  Not much of a captain, Tom thought. The guy would most likely pilot this thing into a wall if he didn't have Ally. Tom looked again at Ally, and a new respect developed. He sat in the co-pilot chair and decided to learn a few things about his co-pilot.

  Ally glanced over at Tom, happy to see he'd taken the co-pilot chair. Thankfully, it didn't look like he was going to cause her any problems. A noise behind Ally alerted her to someone coming down the walkway. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol led her to conclude it was Nina.

  "Hey, Nina, what do you want?"

  "One day you're going to tell me how you do that."

  "No I'm not."

  "Whatever. Did the captain already head down to his room?"

  "Yep."

  "Damn."

  "Why, what's up?"

  "Nothing, just wanted to ask him what he knew about the new crew."

  "Nina, thought I heard you. What's up? Did I hear right you want to know about the new crew? Just ask me, baby."

  Ally saw Nina's expression turn dark as soon as Johnny spoke. Nina tilted her head to look over her shoulder at him. From his startled expression, Ally guessed it was not a nice look.

  Nina fully turned and left the control room, bumping her shoulder against Johnny on the way out. Ally watched as Johnny went to leave. Knowing a confrontation would not end well, she decided to intervene.

  "Johnny, come here for a minute." Johnny stopped in his tracks.

  Ally could tell he was torn between ignoring her and listening to her. After a moment, Johnny looked back at her with a fake smile on his face.

  "Something important, or can we talk about it later?"

  "We can talk about it now." His shoulders slumped, but he made his way over to where Ally and Tom were.

  He leaned against one of the consoles for the submersible.

  "Don't lean on that." Johnny smiled insincerely, but did as he was told and stood up straight.

  "I need to know what depth you're certified at. I also need to know you're good in an emergency."

  "I'm certified for extreme-depth diving, or I wouldn't have been hired for this job. As for how I do in an emergency, just have to wait for one and see what happens."

  "I hoped you'd say that. In a few days, we're going to be coming up to an area we've been asked to scan and take samples from."

  "That doesn't sound too scary, and we'll still be at normal depth."

  "The area is known for extremely strong currents, unusual phenomena, and there's something known to cause extreme disorientation in certain people. Consider it your trial run."

  Johnny shrugged his shoulders and left the room. Tom chuckled as he turned towards Ally.

  "Don't like him much, do you?"

  "Nope."

  "Seems nice enough, maybe a bit cocky."

  Tom waited a few moments for a response. He looked over to Ally and noticed that her full attention was on the panels in front of her.

  "Don't talk much, do you?"

  Ally didn't say anything. She just stared ahead at the panel in front of her. Tom just nodded to himself.

  "Do you want me to go and get some rest so I can take over for you a little later?"

  "Sounds good."

  Tom undid his safety belt and stood up. He planned to say something about whether she needed him, but as good as it sounded in his head, he knew it would sound totally lame out loud. Ally didn't acknowledge him in any way. He left the control room and went down the aisle way to his quarters.

  He shared a room with Johnny and Kramer. When he entered, he let out an irritated groan. From the looks of it, Johnny had already made himself at home. Clothes lay scattered over the bunks and floor. Posters of naked women adorned the walls, and his bag hung over the light.

  Kramer had a leather duffel on his bunk. Tom realized this would most likely be the longest few weeks of his life. He went over and climbed up to his bunk, tossing one of Johnny's shirts onto the floor, and slammed his head on the pillow.

  Chapter Seven

  Nina stood in front of the door to Iain's room, unsure of what to say, or more to the point, how to phrase it. Blurting out that he needed to pull his head out of his ass for this job wouldn't go over well.

  Telling him to talk to Ventura about his squish usage and find out what he meant about his Kramer comment would be received poorly by a man who already felt his crew didn't see him as a leader and captain.

  The fact that she was a diver, albeit a genius one, didn't help. Most people still thought of her as Nina the gambling drunk, even though she'd designed the submersible they used. The submersible that had saved their lives on more than one occasion.

  Nina thought about leaving a note, sending a message, any way to avoid direct confrontation with him. However, none of those methods would work, and she knew it. Speaking with him face to face was the only way.

  She didn't have access to the files and wasn't going to ask Ally to hack into them like usual. Something in her gut told her to go directly to the captain on this one. With a resigned sigh, she raised her hand and knocked on the large metallic door. The echo bounced around the stairway for several seconds.

  A mumbled "come in" was all Nina heard in response. She turned the door handle, taking her time, drawing out the inevitable.

  She didn't know why she was so nervous; she was the gutsy gal who got into fistfights, the one whom nothing bothered. When the door fully opened, she peered in and saw Iain sitting on his bunk, one leg propped up on the wall, the other flat on the bed. One hand rested on the bed, and the other held a half-empty bottle of whiskey. He stared at her with a tired expression, but she thought she saw the briefest glimpse of fear in his eyes.

  "What is it, Nina?" From his tone and the expression on his face, she could tell he didn't much care for what she had to say.

  "Sorry to bother you, Captain. I just thought you should know Ventura is a squisher."

  Iain sighed. "As long as he does a good job, what the hell does it matter?"

  "Captain, he's a long-time user. His reflexes and thought processes might be affected. I have to be able to trust him."

  "Sounds like your problem, not mine."

  Nina just stood there in shock. He might act like an absentee parent, but it was unusual for him to be so nonchalant about the safety of his crew. Generally he actually gave a crap about his crew and their well-being, or at least pretended to. She debated whether or not to continue.

  "Is
there anything else?" His voice sounded hollow. She didn't like it.

  "Actually, yes. He mentioned Kramer, something about him screwing up on a prior job. Just thought you might like to know."

  "Noted."

  Nina knew a dismissal when she heard one. She just wasn't used to hearing one from Iain. She walked out of the room backwards and shut the door quietly. Either the captain knew about Kramer's history and didn't care, or he didn't know and still didn't care.

  His lack of surprise or interest confirmed that much, which made her more nervous. She started to suspect the whole reason the captain was acting like such a jerk had something to do with the fact that he had been forced to take on a crew of misfits. That or they were headed towards some serious trouble.

  Captain would only take a job like this because of the money or because he didn't have a choice. He'd found out too late what the risks were and knew he couldn't do anything about it now. Nina headed to the rec room to get something to eat.

  ***

  Ivan sat in his room reading over the files on the mission. He knew his bosses held back a significant amount from him and had altered the S.O.S. message. He listened to it over and over and could not figure out what was wrong with it, but there was something off. The message lacked urgency, and the voice of the man speaking was eerie and bordered on inhuman. It sounded as if a ghost had sent the message.

  Add the image that went along with it, and you had one hell of a scary recording. The red lighting of the control room added to the otherworldliness. The man spoke from the shadows, an evil presence almost visibly emanating off of him. Ivan sensed he was not quite right; he just could not put his finger on exactly what bothered him.

  He opened the files on the new crewmembers, as well as the crewmembers who came with the Betty Loo. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn the firm put together a team meant to fail. They were mistrustful right off the bat, and only getting worse as they got to know one another.

  Ivan knew the lab on board was not nearly up to par. Why would the people for whom he worked want this to fail?

  Why send almost a dozen people to their deaths? None of it made sense, and he was growing more and more uneasy. He needed to be the leader for them, or at least seem like he was leading. Being full of doubt about what they were doing and scared of what they were really heading towards made that a problem.

  To make matters worse, he could not get his communication chip to work. His bosses had given him the usual communication chip to message with them on back channels so no one on board would intercept his signal.

  Doctor Philip Kramer was the biggest problem he could see so far. The last job he worked on had been a total disaster, and it was all because of him. Apparently, Doctor Kramer was an egomaniac, which led to the death of millions, starting with the research team he had been in charge of.

  As far as Ivan was concerned, Kramer should be shot for what he did. Someone thought differently, however, and put him on this mission. What worried Ivan more was why Kramer, a man who worked with unknown things found in the ocean to find out what they could do, was needed on this mission.

  Ivan closed the image files with a sigh and leaned back on his bunk, lucky to have a room to himself. Dutch liked to sleep in the engine room, though it didn't matter. Ivan would have been given private quarters no matter what. It was part of the contract.

  Restless and upset about the lack of information available, he stood up and walked to the door. As he opened it and entered the hallway, he ran into Johnny.

  "Hey man, where's the fire?"

  Ivan ignored him and continued down the aisle way. Nothing he could do right now except find out how competent the crew was. A good place to start was with the mechanics. He needed to know they were capable of handling anything that came their way, especially considering the depth to which they were going.

  Kramer and the other doctor could wait until later. For now, he needed to make sure that they could get to their destination without dying, and that, should they arrive, they were able to leave when they completed the mission.

  The stairway down to the engine room and electrical area was to the side of the control room entrance. Ivan glanced in for a moment and saw Ally. He could tell she was competent and therefore had no need to talk with her yet. He passed the entrance and went down the narrow stairway.

  The dimly lit engine room had display panels every few feet to indicate oxygen levels as well as the water levels of the tanks. The area was tidy and well kept- usual areas of rust, wear, and tear, but nothing set alarm bells off. No sign of Dutch or of Marcus.

  Interesting, Ivan thought.

  Ivan took the opportunity to look around. He opened two lockers and saw nothing of importance in them. Just the usual things mechanics and electricians might need. He checked the bottom panels to see if any of them was fake. He knew they were popular spots to stuff contraband items. Nothing. A good sign.

  "Can I help you?" Marcus stood to his full height: just over six feet.

  "Just looking around." Ivan in turn stood to his full height: six foot four.

  "We call it snooping here, and we generally don't like it."

  "Not snooping, just wanted to talk to you and the other man. Go over some of the specifics of this sub."

  "Full schematics are available at any display panel." Marcus did not change his stance.

  "I want to talk about this sub's capabilities. Unlike some, I don't care about the money and want to make sure we aren't dying for a fool's errand." Marcus eased up a bit and tilted his head to indicate he was listening.

  "Earlier, you seemed to think this sub could not make it to the necessary coordinates."

  "I do."

  "Any particular reason?"

  "Several. She's too old, not updated, not up to par for the depth, and most of all, we're being kept out of the loop, so have no idea what to prepare for."

  "I understand your insecurities. Mechanically, though, do you think this sub is sound?"

  "Mechanically, she runs perfect, but..."

  "Electrically, is she sound?"

  "Yeah, she is."

  "That's all that matters; you should have no worries. Everything will be fine."

  "Thanks, makes it all better. I'll just stop worrying now and go back to work like a good little boy."

  "Your sarcasm is pointless. I will speak with you later, Marcus."

  Ivan took one last look around and went up the staircase. He would have to come back down later to get a better look at the systems on board.

  Marcus watched Ivan leave with an annoyed expression on his face. He knew a snow job when he saw one. Ivan had tried to ferret information out of him about something. There was definitely trouble when the leader of the search and rescue lowered himself to get the lowdown from a mechanic.

  Marcus made a mental note to talk to Ally about his conversation. Knowing her, she'd already hacked into the files of the new crew and would be able to shed some light on this Ivan fellow.

  As he removed his tool belt, Marcus thought about Ally. He knew he loved her, and he was pretty sure she loved him. He reached into his locker and pulled out the small pouch from the shelf. It was modest, and she deserved better. She might say no- he wouldn't blame her- but the chance at happiness with her was more than worth the risk. He frowned when he thought about risk. It made him think about their current situation. He put the small pouch in his pocket, deep in thought.

  ***

  Ivan stood at the top of the stairs, looking into the control room. He watched Ally. He had a keen interest in her. Her file indicated she was an exceptional pilot, but not much else. Her background was unknown, suspicious at best.

  He assumed it had been classified, meaning she most likely worked for the Koreans. He knew she was good and, if push came to shove, a superior pilot to Tom. Still, he needed to know where her allegiances were. If they were not in line with his, then she would pose a threat to his plans.

  "Are you going to watch me or tal
k to me?" Ivan entered the room, unsurprised that she knew he was there.

  "You are alone."

  Ally made a grand show of turning her head and looking around the control room. "Yes, I am."

  "Your file does not say much about you."

  "There isn't much to tell. I'm a pilot."

  "Yes, that part is in the file. Why is there nothing else?"

  "Parents died when I was young, grandfather died, went into foster care, ended up here, not all that interesting of a story."

  "Your foster care records do not exist. Why?"

  Ivan walked around the control room, keeping an eye on her at all times to see if she reacted to any of his questions.

  "Computer glitch. It happens."

  "You must be glad to have a job like this. You can retire soon."

  "Not looking to retire." Her tone sarcastic.

  "Still, the money must be nice." He examined her face closely from where he stood.

  "Money isn't everything, or so I've been told."

  "Yes, the firms have the money, and the firms are all in Israel, Russia, and Korea."

  "Whatever. Who cares who has it or where it is? They don't know what the hell to do with it, or this planet wouldn't be in the condition it is."

  "They are trying to change things."

  "Listen, buddy, I've been hearing the same speech since I can remember, and the people before me heard the same speech, and the people before them. Nothing is ever going to change, because the people who have the money like it and want to keep it. As a result, they cut corners and short change the rest of the world." Ally stared forward and gritted her teeth.

  "I am sorry to have upset you. I will leave you alone." Ivan left the room, feeling relatively confident that Ally's loyalties were to herself and herself alone.

  He could count his team at being a total of two people now. He decided to grab something to eat in the rec room, an exceptional place to observe people.

  ***

  Nina sat at the table, stabbing her bowl of noodles. They were disgusting and tasted like freezer burn. Since water had been rationed, she could only use half the normal amount to rehydrate them, so she ended up with a clay-like substance. When she thought about earlier, she got so mad about what the captain had said that she wanted to spit.