Sea Station Umbra

by JOHN PAUL CATER

  “Wha-what’s happening here?” shouted Bowman. “We’re on fire! Somebody do something; don’t just stand there.”

  I looked down and saw him lifted up on one arm confused and staring through the crowd in fear. Then I realized he couldn’t see the circle being torched through the deck above.

  “Dave!” I shouted, “It’s our rescuers. They’re on the deck above us cutting their way in.”

  “You mean we-we’re on the surface? We’re s-safe. Th-the monopole’s gone? I must have fallen. Oooh, my head hurts.”

  “Yes. We made it, Dave, thanks to you and your station’s unique design. Now let’s get you up and ready to leave.”

  “No, Matt. Not this time. I’m staying with the station now that it’s made it this far. I have nowhere to go and there’s plenty of work for me to do here. My sandcastle’s not going to be gone by morning this time.”

  He stood and groggily walked to the Admiral putting his arm over his shoulder. “The Admiral here will probably get me into a dry dock by sunset. Won’t you Admiral?”

  He sighed and smiled.

  “Well, Dr. Bowman, since you guys brought us back pretty much intact; I’ll have to think about it. Moving this big egg around the ocean will not be an easy task but we’ll try. Remember we still have that CHUS cable to attack but it may take us a while to return.”

  Laughing together, they jumped as the ceiling cutout fell and crashed clanging to the floor. The hole in the ceiling, about three feet in diameter, looked like it would give us adequate room to climb up and exit once it cooled. I could already smell the freedom. Then the ladder dropped down bringing another cheer and the crew started up almost as soon as it hit the floor.

  Small groups of crew had gathered laughing and saying goodbyes but soon they broke up and climbed up to Deck 2.

  I pulled the Admiral to the side as he put a foot on the ladder.

  “Are we going back to Point Mugu? Do you know?”

  “I do not know but I assume that, yes. You’ll have a short debriefing there and then I’ll have you and Briscoe taken home. I believe the Osprey is on standby for that. The Tine is not far away.” With that, he turned and climbed up the ladder.

  Finally, Briscoe and I stood with Dave reflecting on the unbelievable past week.

  “Come up with us, Dave. Please,” I said almost begging.

  “No, my place is here. I’ll see you again, Matt Cross. I know it.”

  He sniffled and held out a hand to me then the Chief.

  “You both will never know how much I appreciated your help. I couldn’t have done it without you. We’d all be dead by now.”

  He paused and whispered, “You know that you’re my prime witnesses for what happened down there. Nobody is going to believe me but the Admiral, and he’s set to retire next month. Can I call on you for verification of the horror we experienced if I need to?”

  “Sure,” I said smiling.

  Briscoe patted him on the back.

  “Of course, Dr. Bowman. I for one will never forget that thing and the trouble it caused. I just wonder what will become of it.”

  “Me, too. I may have to go back someday and find out,” he said.

  “Ohhh no. Time to go, Marker. Say your goodbyes and follow me up.”

  With unexpected emotions I hugged him goodbye and stepped up on the first rung. Looking back at him I said, “We’ll send a ladder back down to you. I know they have rope ones.”

  Shortly we had climbed to Deck 3 looking out over the ocean lapping at the dome only feet below us. The cool salt sea air had never smelled so good, as we stood breathing it in for minutes with storm clouds brewing off to the west darkening the horizon and the evening sun.

  Soon a harness dropped down from a large chopper and its lineman motioned for one of us to go. His assistant standing near Briscoe strapped him in and sent him up. Then he eyed me.

  “Are you the last? The Captain?”

  “No, he’s staying down on Deck 1. Can you get him a ladder so he’s not stranded down there?”

  “I’ll put a rope ladder on each level before we leave, sir. The Admiral already asked me for that. He will be well cared for since he just saved this multi-million dollar station from destruction.”

  I nodded smiled and watched the Chief enter the chopper’s side door.

  Moments later, he reached out and grabbed the harness as it neared.

  “Here’s your ride. Climb in.”

  As I drifted up toward the chopper and watched another one hovering nearby with the station gently rocking in the waves below, I felt a loneliness that I’d never before experienced.

  I was leaving a part of my life down there. A part I could never talk about to anyone---even my wife. Briscoe would believe me but he would probably go back to his cruiser put on his campaign hat and happily cruise the Interstates soon forgetting our mission. I knew I would be returning to the depths at MBORC pulling up derelict ships and lost cargo but nothing could ever match the excitement of my time on Sea Station Umbra. It was a story I could tell my grandkids.

  “Where are we going, Chief?” I asked. “Heard anything yet?”

  “They said Point Mugu. Should be there by sunset. Then a late debriefing and we’re heading home.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yep, that’s what they said.”

  I looked around at the chopper’s jump seats filled with the station’s crew. As they laughed and relived their tour I thought forward to seeing my wife again and hugging and spending the rest of my life with her. I thought Funny how time away from each other especially life-threatening time brings you closer together. I had never told Lindy why I was so melancholy when I returned home from trips like this but I suspected she knew.

  “Hey, Marker. All his merriment reminds me. When are you taking me and the wife to Big Bear like you promised?”

  I glanced up at him, smiling awaiting an answer.

  “Next weekend of course. How’s that?”

  “All right. I’m gonna hold you to that. Call me and tell us where to meet you. We’ll drive up and enjoy the ride.”

  “I’ll call for reservations tomorrow and if they’re full I’ll just buy the place.”

  He laughed and started a conversation with Williams so I went back to daydreaming.

  Soon we began our descent over NAS Point Mugu. Looking out the side window, I saw lights on the runway flashing in sequence awaiting our arrival. I wondered what to expect. Then I noticed an F-4 Phantom fighter sitting at the end with heat tendrils still rising from its engines.

  “Look,” I said directing the Chief’s attention. “That’s Admiral Greenfield’s ride. Wonder if he’s here.”

  “Probably, Marker,” he scoffed. “You know how he likes to fly back and forth to Florida. Must have a golf game nearby.”

  As our chopper landed, I looked out on the runway and saw a Navy pool bus waiting by a long stretch flag officer’s limo. With the chopper’s rotors spinning down, its main door open, and steps dropped down to the tarmac, the crew started filing out toward the bus under a seaman’s direction. Briscoe, Franklin, and I were the last to deplane and were stopped by a distant voice calling our names.

  “That’s Greenfield!” exclaimed Franklin. “Never expected to see him here.”

  “Hope he’s not pissed,” said the Chief peering his way.

  The Admiral looked at Briscoe.

  “Why would he be pissed? If you just came back from a scuttled station, he might be pissed but you didn’t. You saved it. He’s probably heard by now and wants to thank you.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “We did our best.”

  Walking up to us Greenfield smiled and looked around.

  “Where’s Bowman?”

  “He stayed with the station. Gonna ride it into dry dock,” Franklin replied.

  He shook his head and sharply saluted us.

  “Thank you boys. I heard what you did. And I have to tell you that you did not disappoint me. From what Bowman said during his M
ayday call, you performed some miracles down there. And, as to how you got that Goddamned station to float up to the surface intact I’ll never understand. It should have scuttled halfway up but thank God, it didn’t. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two cell phones handing one to me the other to Briscoe.

  “There are your toys gentlemen. Use them wisely. I would hate to see you walk into a signpost reading your email as I did today… but it was about your station’s emergency. Fortunately I was away from Florida: otherwise I could never have made it here in time for your return.”

  His signpost confession brought a round of laughter from us as he opened his briefcase and pulled out two checks.

  “This is for you, Mr. Cross, and this is for you, Mr. Briscoe. There’s a bonus in there of a million each. You performed way beyond the terms of your contracts and you also discovered something down there that may quite possibly end civilization as we know it. I’m not going to penalize you for that but instead thank you for bringing it to our attention. It’s certainly captured the Navy’s interest. Now as for Silkwood’s visit, we gave him a memorial burial at sea after an unfortunate scuba training accident with a shark. It’s already in the papers. That will be your story if anyone ever asks you. Otherwise you know nothing about Sea Station Umbra, understand?”

  “Yes sir,” we answered together.

  He pointed off to a side taxiway.

  “Your Osprey is waiting over by hangar 405 to take you home to your wives and families. Thank you again for your service… and if you ever feel like re-upping, call me and I’ll get you both in as flag officers with Special Forces. Now hop in the limo and Franklin and I will drop you off by the hangar.

  Even in the twilight of the evening I recognized Harper’s V22 Osprey with its up-tilted rotors. It meant to me that we were heading home and I’d be there in a little over an hour. Briscoe’s trip to Tustin field was shorter because we would first stop there and drop him off. Then we’d head north to Marina and the MBORC ball field where nearby my car was parked. It had happened so often I called it the Local Route V22.

  Chapter 25. Water on the Mountain

  Lindy must have heard my key slip into the lock because before I could turn the knob she threw back the door and stood in shock looking at me half-crying and half-laughing. After a moment, she threw her arms around my neck and cried hugging and kissing me, welcoming me home.

  “Matt, I missed you so much,” she whispered in my ear. “I went crazy when you disappeared like that. Please don’t ever do that again.”

  I comforted her for the longest time apologizing for my sudden absence but as usual, I couldn’t speak the truth. This time I told her that I had been forced back into the SeaCrawler program at Point Mugu searching for a missing secret Chinese submarine. Although only part of that was true she believed me.

  After a moment, she ran into the kitchen and brought out two beers, wanting to hear more. I took one and swigged from it then continued the story, telling her how the Russians had captured us at gunpoint and threatened to kill us all if we didn’t call off of the search. The spy sub was originally Russian but they had sold it to the Chinese Navy and the Chinese reneged on their payments. They wanted it back. They said that it was none of our business to search for it even if it held our national secrets.

  I guess she became disenchanted with the details of my story at one point because she jolted upright during a pause and stared at me.

  “Oh my God, Matt. I’ll bet you’re hungry. Can I make you a plate of something? I have some leftover spaghetti and meatballs from last night I can heat up in a jiffy.”

  “Sure I’d love something, honey. I am hungry. But do we have anything other than spaghetti?”

  “Matt, I thought you loved my spaghetti,” she asked pouting.

  “I do, but I had a really bad batch on my trip and I’m just not ready to see it again.”

  “How about a fried baloney sandwich? Will that work?”

  “Mmm. Lovely. Got any chips?”

  After the meal and two more beers, with my eyelids drooping I told her that I had been awake for most of five days straight and needed to go to bed. When she heard that, she ran around fancying up the bedroom with candles and dim lighting until I fell asleep on the couch.

  The next morning I awoke to her anger. I jerked up from the sofa and groggily opened my eyes as she ranted storming into the living room.

  “Matt, you go off on some mystery trip and leave me at home by myself for days; then you come home and have the balls to ignore me? You can’t do that. I deserve a vacation with you. Take me away and I mean now. You’re not due back at work for at least a week so can we go somewhere this weekend?”

  Acting surprised, I appeased her.

  “S-sure honey. Of course. How about Big Bear Lake? We’ll spend a week.”

  “Oh, Matt. You promise? I’m so excited. I love the mountains.” Squealing with joy, she bent down and hugged me.

  “Yes, we’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll pack the car today while you’re at work and then tomorrow we’ll leave bright and early.

  We arrived at the Bear Den Lodges just after noon. Private and subtly tucked into the folds of surrounding mountain ridges they astounded us. The air was crisp and cool and smelled of the pines surrounding our cabin. After unpacking, we sat on the spacious porch overlooking the beautiful lake with blue jays flitting through the trees calling out to each other. Campfires crackled in the distance creating the perfect setting for a week together away from the pressures of work and for me away for the sterile smell of purified pressurized air.

  That day was the perfect relaxation for us being back together until later in the day when I decided to introduce her to the Briscoes. I called him on my cell and invited them over to our cabin for dinner.

  Glancing at my watch, I expected the Chief and Barb to arrive at any time. In my conversation with him after Lindy left for work I had asked him to arrive quietly and unobtrusively allowing us time for some fun under the covers. He laughed and said that he and Barb were done with covers and would spend that time sleeping in, or out on a pier dragging lines in the lake.

  They arrived thirty minutes later with a cooler full of ice, beer and all the makings for margaritas. The steaks on the grill were sizzling and creating the aroma that I remembered from the SeaPod. It had finally come to reality.

  As the Chief and I tended the steaks and made the drinks, Lindy took to Barb immediately. Seems that Barb had worked in the media at a local L.A. radio station and they knew many of the same personalities.

  They went on and on as the Chief and I finally sat and sipped our beers and devoured our steaks with them enjoying the view of the lake.

  After dessert, from inside the cabin through the open porch door, sounded a loud steady beep preceding a television news alert. Lindy and Barb stopped their conversation and listened.

  “Shhh,” Lindy said turning her head toward the door.

  “Today, witnesses are reporting the discovery of a new area of the Pacific they’re calling the Hawaii Triangle far out in the ocean between Los Angeles and Hawaii. Seems that several ships and divers have mysteriously disappeared from the region during the past few days. This came hours after several boaters reported sighting a large UFO shadowing a tugboat over the ocean. The Coast Guard is now warning boaters to avoid the area fearing more abductions. Little more is known about this new development but Navy scientists and psychiatrists are investigating the incident.”

  Wide-eyed from the report, Lindy and Barb caught us chuckling winking at each other.

  “What’s so funny, Matt? That’s a very troubling story,” Lindy frowned.

  “Oh nothing, honey,” I answered. “Those boaters must have had a few too many out there on the ocean. That’s the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard.”

  After several more beers, the Chief suggested that he and Barb return to their cabin and we didn’t object. It had been a long day and we were more than ready to be alone. After spinning thro
ugh all the channels on the television Lindy found no more news on the Hawaii Triangle so she stepped into the closet.

  “Wasn’t that a strange story, honey?” she asked slipping into a negligee.

  “I just can’t imagine that scene.” I answered, “I mean I could imagine it out by Bermuda in the Sargasso Sea since that’s always been a place of mystery but not the Pacific. It’s reserved for sailboats, yachts, and earthqua---”

  Interrupting me, my cell phone vibrated on the bedside table. I picked it up and saw Unknown Caller on the caller ID.

  “Who is it?” Lindy asked slipping into bed beside me.

  “Jake from State Farm,” I joked.

  Abruptly she grabbed the phone from my hand, jumped up, and ran to the back door and then heaved it far out into the trees.

  “He’ll have to call back. This week you’re mine.”

  I kissed her and smiled, then spent the night under the covers in her arms wondering who had called and what they wanted.

  APPENDIX

  1.) Spec Sheet: Sea Station Umbra

  [TOP SECRET SCI UMBRA-Z (NOFORN)]

  General Specifications

  Navy Class:

  DSMRL (Deep Submergence Mobile Research Laboratory)

  Code Name:

  SS Umbra - Sea Station Umbra

  Nickname:

  Discovery One

  Known Name:

  Deep Sea Fukushima Radiation Monitoring Station

  Known Mission:

  (TS SI UMBRA-A)

  Underwater Mega-Becquerel Receiving Array for Tracking Fukushima Radiation Pacific Encroachment

  Covert Mission:

  (TS SCI UMBRA-Z)

  Interception and Collection of Targeted TransPacific Cable Communications

  Description:

  100’ dia. dome on 100’ X 100’ X 25’ crawler platform