“What popped up, ensign?”
“I’m not sure, sir. It’s some kind of beacon, I think. It just . . . wait, there’s more than one. Two or three, sir. It’s strange. I’ve never seen a frequency like this before.”
Haruto moved toward the sonar, bending at the waist, peering intently over his shoulder. The ensign was correct. There were three electronic beacons appearing on the screen adjacent to the other ship they were tracking. They were not standard radio emitters like the ones found on lifeboats and survival rafts. The signals were powerful and easy to trace, but intermittent. Their transmissions were repeatedly interrupted, like they were floating on the surface and submerging with the motion of the waves.
Haruto’s brow lines deepened. With his sonar tech’s limited experience, there was no way the youth could recognize the signals. But the Oshima’s captain was quite familiar with them. He’d used them during his tenure on the Nagata, back when the international community turned a myopic eye to Japan’s illegal whaling activities. The beacons were used to mark the location of dead whales, enabling a ship’s crew to chase down and slaughter entire pods without losing track of any carcasses. They were built like short, bottom-heavy spears, the bulbous end consisting of a float, a battery-powered transmitter, and an LED assembly. Their barbed points were driven deep into the blubber of dead or dying cetaceans. Once activated, they emitted a high-intensity radio signal and strobe light every time they breached the surface.
Haruto’s expression intensified and he straightened up. “Ensign, I want you to email me the frequency codes of those beacons. At once.”
The tech cocked his head to one side. “Um . . . email, sir?”
“Yes, email. Immediately.” He turned to the con. “Helm, chart a course for home, but hold our current position until I give the order. I’ll be in my quarters.”
“Yes, sir.” Both men answered as one.
His face unreadable, Haruto abandoned the bridge.
“Doc, are you sure about this?” Jake’s expression was dubious as he adjusted the heavy-duty restraining harness holding him against Eurypterid II’s front seat. Around him, the enclosing thickness of the submersible’s reinforced interior did little to create a feeling of security; it felt more like an armor-plated coffin. He glanced nervously back at Amara. “After crashing onto the deck so hard, maybe this thing won’t even work.”
“You got any better ideas?” Amara reached up and began flipping switches on the mini-sub’s overhead control panel. “Besides, if I knew Karl at all, I’m sure he designed this thing to take a few knocks.”
“Whoa!” Jake made a reflexive grab at his chair’s padded armrests as the submersible shifted, shuddering noisily along the debris-strewn decks of the Harbinger as the dying ship’s list dramatically increased.
“Just hang on,” Amara said, trying to familiarize herself with Eurypterid II’s joystick steering controls. “I’ve adjusted our trim and ballast. Assuming my calculations are correct – which is far from guaranteed – we should just float off the Harbinger’s deck as she sinks out from under us.”
“And if not?”
Amara paused thoughtfully, nibbling her lower lip as she adjusted a few more dials. Jake twisted in his seat, straining his neck in an effort to catch her eye. She held his gaze and frowned. “Well, in that case, this may be a very short trip.”
“Wonderful.” He turned and started peering through the oval-shaped observation bubble that made up most of the mini-sub’s nose. He perused the confusing array of equipment and controls at his fingertips. “So, what’s all this stuff?”
“Hang on a minute.” Amara listened nervously as falling debris clanged like hailstones against the submersible’s laminated hull. With a groan, the Harbinger’s death throes reached their climax. The ship’s nose dropped sickeningly downward and a churning wall of seawater came surging toward them, slamming into Eurypterid II and enveloping them with a roar.
Jake held his breath, feeling his heart free-fall into his stomach. A few seconds later, the drowning research vessel rolled sideways and sank bow first beneath the waves, dragging them down with it.
“Damn!” Amara cursed, holding tight onto the controls as they were sucked under at a sharp angle. “Something’s wrong, we’re not coming loose!”
Jake felt his ears pop and gripped his armrests tightly, gazing apprehensively at the Harbinger’s bubble-spewing hull. Pieces of debris and drifting lifejackets flew from her holds, careening all around them. He gasped and jerked his head back as something big slammed into the observation bubble. He saw long fangs and a baleful eye, and realized to his astonishment that it was the bodiless head of the monstrous fish Amara had secreted in her freezer. Pinned in place by the current, the decapitated Xiphactinus glared hungrily at him through the thick Lexan, its eyes bulging, its bladed maw grinning evilly. A second later, it was whisked away.
“We’re stuck!” Amara yelled out, stabbing buttons and heaving on her control stick as she gunned Eurypterid II’s powerful impellers to life. “Something’s got us glued to the ship! Take a look and tell me what you see!”
Jake leaned all the way forward, pressing his chest against the thick pad in front of him. He squinted hard through the rapidly darkening depths. “It’s pretty dark . . . I don’t think . . . wait, there it is!”
“What is it?” Amara turned on the mini-sub’s powerful searchlights, swiveling them to illuminate the area.
“There’s a large section of railing looped over the portside wing,” Jake said. He craned his neck, studying the entwining mass of twisted metal. “It must have happened when we slid forward, right before she sank.”
Amara flipped on the exterior monitors and gazed intently at them. “I see it.” She nodded. “Hang on tight, I’m going to try and shake us loose.” Her jaw set, she pulled slowly back and forth on her steering controls, gunning the engines forward, and then throwing them into reverse. The sub didn’t budge.
“Shit, this is bad!” Amara cried out, heaving back on the controls one last time.
“How bad?”
“We’re at seven hundred feet.” she said. “Max depth here is fifteen hundred, which is fine, pressure-wise. But if we can’t get free before she hits bottom, she may continue rolling and land upside down.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “You mean, like . . . on top of us?”
“Exactly. Look, I know you’ve never done this before, but I need your help freeing us. I can’t control the helm and cut us loose at the same time.”
“No problem, just tell me what to do.”
She suppressed a grin and pointed at his control console. “You have to use the actuators to cut the railing. They’re controlled by those two interface portals in front of you.”
“Okay . . .” Jake stared at the darkened openings.
“Put your hands inside the portals and feel your way to the end. You’ll find glove-shaped compartments. Slip your hands into them and wait.”
“No problem.” Jake shoved his hands inside the padded openings and leaned forward against the chest pad. He extended his arms until he found what she described and slipped his hands inside. They were cold, metallic, and had a grainy texture to them. “I know why this thing is here now . . . ouch! Hey, what the hell was that?”
“Just hold still!” Amara studied a small monitor directly above her. “You’re feeling the electrical tingle of the neural interface. It’s linking to your nervous system. Try not to move, the discomfort will vanish in a moment.”
“Discomfort?” Jake tensed and fought to remain immobile. The “tingle” she described felt like he’d shoved a dinner fork into a wall socket. “It feels like a bunch of fire ants are stinging me!”
“Don’t be such a Mary!” Amara snapped. She checked her depth gauge again and exhaled slow. “Okay, you’re linked. It’s time to get to work.”
“It finally stopped hurting, if that’s what you mean,” Jake griped. “Now, what do I do?”
“Just move your arm
s normally, but keep your hands on the grippers; otherwise you’ll break the connection. The sub’s arms will move like they’re your own.”
Jake inhaled sharply as the submersible’s twelve-foot titanium-steel actuators swiveled out from beneath the sleek craft’s prow and materialized in front of him. “Holy cow!” He felt like a child who’d just been given a giant toy robot. The oversized graspers mimicked his every move. The feeling of empowerment was intoxicating. “Wow, what can I do with these?”
“There’s no time for lessons.” Amara scanned another gauge and shook her head. “Just reach over and cut us loose, fast!”
“I’ll try.” Leaning as far forward as he could, Jake strained to seize the mesh-like mass of railing keeping them pinned to the rapidly-descending Harbinger. The metal tubing was just out of reach. Annoyed, he gritted his teeth and threw himself against the cushioned chest pad, willing his limbs to grow longer. By millimeters, he managed to close the portside pincer around the closest section and pulled it back in a single motion. There was a low vibration as the section of railing tore free. He felt the Eurypterid II’s hull shift, but it wasn’t enough. They were still wedged tight.
Sweating from the strain, Jake continued to lunge and grab, tearing the remaining sections of steel railing like strands of spaghetti. Finally, they popped up off the Harbinger’s deck like a loosed buoy.
“I did it!” he shouted. The Harbinger’s foreboding bulk separated from them and continued hurtling into the depths, vanishing from view.
“And just in time too,” Amara replied. There was a distant thump as her vessel impacted the seabed. “Hang on. I’m taking us back to the surface.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jake said, freeing his arms. He breathed a sigh of relief, taking a moment to carefully check the makeshift bandage on his wounded bicep. Outside, the darkness dissipated as they made their way back into the ocean’s sunlit phototropic zone.
“What the hell?” Amara gazed wide-eyed at her sonar screen.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hold on!” She threw the speeding sub hard to starboard.
With a thunderous roar, the pliosaur barreled past them, its gargantuan jaws slamming shut as it missed their portside wing by less than a yard.
“Son of a bitch!” Jake held on for dear life as Eurypterid II rocked back and forth.
“Bastard came at us from the rear,” Amara fumed as she maneuvered away from the huge reptile. “He must’ve been hiding behind the Harbinger the entire time, waiting for us to abandon ship. He’s learned since his battle with the other sub.”
“Great. So, what’s our plan?” Jake asked, apprehensively eyeing their attacker as it turned to follow them.
“Get back on the actuators and try to keep him at bay,” Amara instructed, jabbing buttons faster than the eye could follow. There was an electric hum as she brought their weapons systems online. “If we’re aggressive enough, maybe we can convince him we’re too much trouble to be worth making a meal of.”
Struggling to keep their nose pointed at the creature, Amara threw Eurypterid II’s engines in reverse, backpedaling as fast as she could. Jaws spread, the creature flung itself at the tiny submarine.
“Keep him off us!” she screamed, firing salvos from the sub’s harpoon cannons. With impressive accuracy, she sprayed four pairs of the barbed projectiles directly into the pliosaur’s wide-open mouth. At point blank range the compressed-air-powered missiles flew true, burying themselves in its white tongue and throat lining.
Simultaneously, Jake struck at it with the sub’s twelve-foot pincers, nipping at its thick-scaled lips like an enormous crayfish. “Good lord!” Teeth clenched and face soaked with sweat, he jabbed away like a retreating prizefighter, repelling attack after attack as the creature tried to sink its teeth into Eurypterid II’s vulnerable prow section.
Discouraged by the sharp flashes of pain that stung its mouth’s interior, the pliosaur uttered a rumbling snarl and broke off its attack. Gnashing its teeth together, it shook its monstrous head from side to side, trying to expel the sharp objects. Failing to dislodge them, it swam away, grumbling as it disappeared into the gloom.
“We did it!” Amara cheered. Her eyes were fixated on their sonar screen as they continued to race backwards.
Jake wiped his brow and breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, then let’s put the hammer down and get the hell out of here!”
Suddenly, a powerful blow rocked Eurypterid II, sending them lurching violently against their seats, their bodies held in place by crisscrossed restraining belts.
“Holy shit, he got us!” Jake roared. He grimaced as his injured head hit his seat’s headrest, causing him to see stars.
Amara yelled back. “It’s not the pliosaur!” She looked up anxiously as several loud banging noises came from outside. Something heavy was impacting their hull. “He’s three hundred yards to port!”
“Then what the hell was that? What happened?”
“It’s the Cutlass!” Amara wore a disgusted look. She gritted her teeth as she pulled them a hundred yards forward. As they turned back, the soaring undersea spire appeared; erupting up out of the sea-floor, it towered over them, looming over the edge of Ophion’s Deep. “Damn, I backed us right into it!”
“Did we take any damage?” Jake asked, his eyes glued to the observation window.
“I don’t think so.” Amara studied readouts and gauges. “Hull integrity wasn’t compromised, and the engines seem okay . . . uh oh!”
“Uh oh?” Jake echoed. He whipped his head around.
“Well, it uh . . . looks like we’ve lost our dorsal sonar array,” Amara said. She held her breath for a moment, then exhaled heavily. “The falling rocks must’ve damaged one of the hull emitters.”
“So, we’re totally blind out here?”
“No . . . not totally. We can pick up movement on our level or below us. We should be alright, but just to be on the safe side we should stay near the surface.”
“Then let’s get there,” Jake growled. He turned his attention back to the blue-gray seas beyond their window, his eyes jogging nervously left and right.
There was a sudden hum as Amara increased Eurypterid II’s impellers back to full power. She cruised toward the surface at a steep angle in the hope of preventing the creature from sneaking up on them again.
Beep.
“What was that?” Jake scanned the cockpit for the source of the sound.
Beep. Beep.
“Proximity alarm,” Amara said. Her hair whipped around as she checked their monitoring screens. “Close range only. I turned it on to compensate for the sonar.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“It’s getting louder,” Jake advised. He licked his lips and looked around anxiously. “Where is he?”
“Starboard bow, one hundred and twenty-five yards above us.” Amara powered them toward the surface, blanketing the approaching reptile with active sonar pings. The pliosaur grew rapidly as its monstrous body picked up speed.
“Hold on. Here he comes!”
Jake clamped down on the stream of profanities begging to spew from his mouth. All he could do was hold on and pray Amara was a good enough pilot to keep them away from the wall of teeth and muscle closing in on them.
She wasn’t.
An experienced hunter, the pliosaur adjusted its tactics to compensate for the mini-sub’s superior maneuverability. Feinting side to side as it approached, it gauged Amara’s reactions, forcing her to change course repeatedly. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, it closed the distance. Catching Eurypterid II off balance, it nearly pushed her out of the water from the force of its blow.
“Damn him to hell!” Amara raged as the creature’s ridged teeth scraped nosily along their underbelly. They hit the surface and went airborne with it still tearing at them. As they crashed back down, she twisted the controls hard to port, sending the submersible into a dizzying spin in an effort to lessen the assault.
“Jesus Christ!” Jake clos
ed his eyes as their hull was repeatedly grazed. It was simply a matter of time before the creature scored a direct hit: a strike that would enable it to gain enough purchase on their armored shell to bring the full power of its jaws to bear. Once that happened it would crush Eurypterid II like an empty beer can, just like it did the mini-sub’s sister ship.
Just when Jake was certain they were finished, the pliosaur veered off. He opened his eyes and watched confusedly as it lay suspended in the water. A school of shiny silver baitfish appeared as if by magic, crowding it and exploring its vast bulk. A moment later, the creature’s back arched and its body began convulsing. Before he could ask Amara’s opinion, it opened its mouth and retched forth an enormous mouthful of orange-colored vomit that clouded the surrounding water.
Jake blanched. The big outboard motor the beast ingested minutes earlier emerged from the cloud of regurgitated bile. It spiraled slowly toward the bottom. Billowing above it like a tattered flag was the macerated hull of the Sycophant.
The pliosaur shook its head to clear the taste of gasoline from its mouth and prepared to charge again. Turning its back on Eurypterid II, it traveled a hundred yards before banking sharply around. It emitted a low roar of agitation before heading in their direction.
“It’s unbelievable.” Jake stared blankly at the approaching behemoth. “Even with a hangover he won’t quit!” As the creature drew closer, it dawned on him Eurypterid II wasn’t getting out of its path. “Um, doc, what’s going on? Why aren’t we moving?”
“I’m not sure!” Amara’s eyes went wide as she frantically flipped switches. She tried steering again and got nothing. “I think its last assault damaged our power couplings. I’ve got energy readings for everywhere else, but I’ve lost power to the engines. It’s like they’ve gone offline.”
“What?” Jake exploded. “Are you shitting me?”
“No, I’m not shitting you!”
Instead of coming straight in, the pliosaur began circling the wounded mini-sub. From a distance of one hundred feet it eyed Eurypterid II, the black holes of its pupils constricting. From his position in the cockpit, Jake got the uncomfortable feeling it was looking directly at him. “Jesus, doc. Can’t you get us moving?” he asked, unable to tear his gaze away. The creature moved closer to them with each successive pass, the water it displaced causing the mini-sub to wobble in the current.
KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back. Page 55