The Gato swam hard, beating its tail to the surface then jumping skyward. A yellow sun, blue sky, and white clouds filled the visual display. Blue water and white crested wavelets filled the display as the ship turned on its tail and nose-dived back to the surface.
Signals that had dissipated in the air returned to full volume as the ship entered the water. On a lungful of air, the Gato dove deep. The sonar display showed the gradual curvature of the sloping bottom dead ahead.
Kenshin used the sonar signals to guide the Gato over the contours of the bottom. As the ship undulated, Sobuku noticed a pair of warnings: the low fuel indicator and a leaving protected zone beacon.
The bottom fell away as the Gato left the escarpment supporting Landring behind. Kenshin hovered over the abyss. The ship pointed its head downward, broadcasting compressed sonar bursts thousands of meters to the bottom.
When the signals returned, Kenshin sorted through the bursts and filed one with the ship’s memory banks. The visual translator took control and displayed a graphic on the screen. The fuel indicator read:
FUEL SOURCE LOCATED
The ship-whale locked in on the position of the fuel source. Kenshin loaded the headings into the directional finder. The Gato rolled forward and swam toward the bottom at full speed.
Sobuku was about to witness a sight seen only by a commanders of waterships — a sperm whale feeding on its favorite meal — the giant squid.
As the Gato plunged into the depths, the fuel indicator icon changed to reveal a the image of a group of newborn squid. The Gato ripped through the pod, throwing its head from side to side as it gorged on the fleeing squid.
The fuel indicator read full. Navigation displays populated screens on the walls of the cylindrical conning tower. Captain Kamura set a course that followed a major squid migration route into the northern hemisphere.
10
THE CAPTAIN INVOKED the navigation system, bringing it to the forward screen in the conning tower. A holographic image of a water-covered globe appeared, hovering in place and rotating slowly. Kenshin blinked twice, easing the spinning globe to a halt with 0°, the latitude marking the harbor at Hirokawa, facing him. The ship-whale’s forward trajectory lined up with the New Prime Meridian.
Sobuku watched Kenshin receive incoming sonar signals and then transfer the sound waves to millions of memory cells housed in the Coreglass battery. The processed data returned in the form of overlays wrapping the globe.
Each subsequent overlay displayed glowing lines. Each line traced possible routes based on availability of fuel sources.
Visual translations depicted the best course — the one with the most abundant fuel supply — to be through a twisted maze of submarine caverns.
Kenshin adjusted the steerage indicator on the Compass Rose to 18°. He plotted a course based on a cruising speed of 18 kilometers per hour. Continuing in his direction at this rate of speed would bring the ship to the deep trench network in 12 hours.
Fuel source indicators sounded as the Gato swam through schools of Pelagic fish. Its long mouth opened and closed, clouds of blood billowed from the tips of pointed teeth impaling flesh.
The watership continued its northward journey. It dove and remained submerged when the sensors in the blowhole dome screen detected rapidly decreasing oxygen and increasing contamination levels in the atmosphere above the ocean.
Twelve hours later, after another course correction, Kenshin pointed the the Gato 90° into a deep dive. The ship leveled off at 3,800 meters and continued to undulate over a gradually sloping bottom.
The side views on the visual translator showed scattered boulders lining the sides of the smooth bottom. As time passed, boulders gave way to granite cliffs towering above a sand filled channel.
Sobuku noticed a different display populating the conning tower. It took a few seconds to realize what the readout meant: high traces of iron deposits in the water near the sand bottom. This indicated prime areas for giant squid feeding on massive schools of fish and shrimp attracted to the heat and light generated in the deep water.
Spectrographic and gas chromatography showed oxygen-rich air, trapped in the bedrock beneath the sand, escaping through cracks to be filtered by layers of nutrient-dense sand. Sobuku concluded the sand-channels provided a thriving environment for sea-creatures not adapted to the toxic water near the surface.
The fuel indicator icon sounded and flashed. In the conning tower, Kenshin brought the visual translator display to the forward position.
As the Gato homed in on the signal, the display showed a squid reaching tentacles into a school of tuna. The school broke apart and reformed. Writhing, fifty-meter tentacles darted out and wrapped around the massive body of a tuna. The squid pulled the squirming fish toward a twenty-meter beak studded with razor-sharp teeth.
The Gato dove, leveling off behind the feeding squid propelling itself backward in an effort to bring the tuna closer to the beak. The Gato opened its mouth as it closed the distance, eating the squid and its prey in seven savage bites of its long jaws.
Kenshin set the directional finder to maintain a course that kept the Gato between the bordering cliffs and over the glowing channel. He climbed down from the conning tower to the research deck.
“Mission Specialist Sato, is the lower deck secure?” Kenshin asked.
“Aye, Captain,” Sobuku nodded. “All systems are functioning at a normal rate.”
“MS Sato, this is a small crew,” Captain Kamura looked around. “I don’t think the formalities are necessary. I think we can address each other by our given names.”
“Very well … Kenshin,” Sobuku nodded. She set her fist on her heart.
Kenshin added, “I think we can drop the saluting,” when he didn’t return the gesture.
“Aye, first names and no salutes,” Sobuku said. She was a bit disappointed. She was getting used to the strict discipline and chain of command that came with naval service.
“I see you’ve been monitoring the steerage and navigation systems,” Kenshin remarked when he noticed the displays on the screens at the research console.
“Yes, I have Kenshin …” Sobuku paused and then added, “under orders from Director Hasegawa.”
“I see,” Kenshin replied, narrowing his eyes and rubbing his cheek. “Is there something else you’re not telling me, Sobuku?”
Sobuku hesitated for a moments and then answered, “I’m under hypnotically implanted orders to learn how to drive the ship.”
“What is the reasoning for this order, Sobuku?”
“The reasoning behind the order became apparent when the ship left the protected zone, Kenshin. During your last physical it was discovered you had a heart condition.”
“Can I see confirmation of this order? Or is it on a need to know basis?” Kenshin asked, he looked at the deck and then looked up when Sobuku displayed the captain’s latest medical file on the console.
Kenshin stared at the screen. He turned to Sobuku, “I’m going to do the best I can not to be a liability to the ship, the crew, and the mission.”
“I’m sure of that Kenshin, your record speaks for itself,” Sobuku said. She went on, “Eighteen missions as pilot and captain of ship-whales. You are a pioneer in the field. The director made the correct decision in choosing you.”
Kenshin didn’t feel depression associated with the details of the medical report. He didn’t feel the elation brought on by the praise given to him by his crew. Adrenaline enhancing treatments inhibited emotions. Combined with hypnosis, the user felt only a powerful internal motivation to carry out the mission.
“We will begin instruction in ship handling immediately,” Kenshin climbed back into the conning tower. “Report to the con in five minutes and be ready to take the helm.”
“Aye, Ken,” Sobuku replied. She closed down her stations, climbed the access ladder, and looked around at a myriad of read outs and displays moving around the glass dome.
11
INSIDE THE WHE
EL-house, Kenshin told Sobuku, “This is the pilot’s chamber. From here we can control every one of the flight functions of the ship.”
Sobuku sat in the chair, settling in as the seat adjusted to fit her height and weight. She glanced at a myriad of displays and read outs flashing and scrolling around the conning tower.
“The entire system — from navigation to life support — is based on the whale’s built-in sonar capabilities.”
Sobuku nodded. The core-glass crystal embedded in the whale’s brain, equivalent in size and power to thousands of Citizen class chips, monitored the translator and supplied power to every instrument in the interior cabin. Knowing this as a fact didn’t come close to actually sitting in the driver’s seat.
Kenshin guided Sobuku through the Basic Environmental Settings Input-Output System (BESIOS). He showed Sobuku an icon on the main console screen and told her to choose it by double-blinking when her eyes focused on it. Sobuku did this. A sonar ping — different from the continuous cacophony of sounds in the wheel-house — emitted from the depths of the core-glass embedded in the whale’s head and reverberated through the ambergris-filled chamber. Ship systems received the signal and returned an operational status ping-back.
“How often should I run the BESIOS?” Sobuku asked.
“It’s set to run automatically every three minutes,” Kenshin answered. “You can override this by choosing the manual iniator … which you just did.”
Sobuku wondered how Kenshin chose three minutes as the elapsed time between signal emissions.
“What is the top speed of the ship and how do I accelerate?” Sobuku asked
“The ship maintains a cruising speed of 18 kilometers per hour,” Kenshin answered. “Eighteen kilos has been determined by scientists and engineers to be the most efficient rate, considering refueling factors. The faster the ship swims, the more food is required.”
Sobuku knew the answer to the next question but went ahead: “What does the pilot do when the ship-whale dives for food?”
“That is where the Fuel Source Indicator comes in,” Kenshin glanced at the letters (FSI) flashing in the lower right corner of the console display. “When the translator beacon flashes, different types of icons indicate different types of food sources. The most obvious are the tentacle squid icon and the tuna profile. These indicate the presence of large squid and schools of big tuna — two of the whale’s favorite foods.”
As soon as the words left Kenshin’s lips, the indicator flashed the tentacle icon and displayed the message:
FUEL SOURCE LOCATED
“Should I go after it?” Sobuku, eager to feel out the controls, asked.
“Hold on, let’s get a visual first.”
“Is that one blink or two on the FSI?”
“Two,” Kenshin said.
The image overlay appeared on the console. It showed a massive tangle of tentacles protruding out of a cavern in the side of the eastern canyon wall.
“What do you think, Kenshin? Should I go for it?”
“Good question, Sobuku,” Kenshin looked at the estimated dimensions of the squid scrolling across the bottom of the console display. “Perhaps we should pass on that one,” Kenshin suggested. “At over two-hundred meters in length, it may prove to be more than the Gato can handle.”
Sobuku decided to ignore the icon.
In the cavern below, the squid followed primitive instincts when it sensed the Gato Kujira Maru cruising overhead as prey. It dragged its tentacles and long head out of the cavern. Pupils expanded out to the edges of eyes each measuring 15 meters in diameter.
The squid focused in on the whale silhouette. It forced tons of sea-water into the cavity encasing the mantle and pushed it out of the siphon on the rear. Three pumps brought the creature out of the ravine and to the upper levels of the canyon.
An alert buzzed. A sonar signal appeared. “Zero in on that,” Kenshin said. “Bring it to visual.”
The squid half buried in the canyon was now on a course with the ship-whale. “Time for evasive maneuvers,” Kenshin told Sobuku. “You’d better let me take over.”
Sobuku got out of the pilot’s seat. The chair expanded to Kenshin’s frame as Sobuku stepped clear. She returned to the research deck and strapped in.
As the signal closed in, Kenshin invoked the command for full speed. The Gato beat its flukes in a frantic effort to put distance between itself and the hungry monster. “Prepare for surface run,” Kenshin called down from the wheel-house.
The Gato, responding the next command, arched its back and beat its tail to force its head into a 90° climb. Kenshin switched converter screens peppering the blowhole dome to maximum oxygen retention mode. Forward speed increased to 42 kilometers per hour.
“Sixty seconds until surface break!” Kenshin announced.
The overhead weather condition display showed winds of 120 kilometers per hour driving 32 meter seas. Kenshin studied the up and down undulation of the waves on the surface. On a command from the bridge, a reduction in fluke strokes slowed the ship to 28 kilos. At this rate the Gato would break the surface on the crest of a rolling swell. The pursuing squid would either give up the chase upon being exposed to the toxic upper level water or break though the surface into the poisonous atmosphere.
Kenshin closed off the blowhole dome when contamination levels reached a critical point. On one lungful of air, the Gato exploded out of the water and rocketed skyward. The overhead visual showed swirling thunderheads forked by brilliant flashes of lightning.
The ship hovered above windswept swells for five seconds. Wind driven rain battered the Gato’s hide and echoed through the conning tower.
Just as the Gato turned its head into a dive and arced back into the churning swells the squid broke the surface. The long arms streamed wildly behind the mantle.
The giant squid was closer to death with every meter it swam in mad pursuit of the whale. Toxic sea-water near the surface being forced into the body leeched into the squid’s heart. It died seconds before breaking through to the air, and then collapsed in a tangled heap and rolled down the face of a wave to slide into the depths.
12
THE BACKWARD FACING visual display showed the giant squid’s life systems fading from red to blue as it tumbled end over end back into the depths. Satisfied the ship was out of danger and in the clear, Kenshin called down from the wheel-house, “You may return to the bridge!”
Kenshin stood and motioned to the pilot’s chair. “Bring the ship back on course, Sobuku,” he said.
The self-adjusting chair accepted the new dimensions seconds after Sobuku sat down. She verified the current navigation headings and environmental conditions: the climb to the surface had taken them four degrees off course. Outside, a cyclonic storm raged. The ship righted itself as it glided down the face of a giant swell. Once in the trough, Sobuku set the bow to a downward 15° angle and resumed an 18 kilo cruising speed.
The din of cracking thunder and the constant drone of howling winds decreased as distance from the surface increased. Soon, only the sounds of the sonar transmission filled the cabin. Lightning flashes illuminating mountainous swells fell behind in a cobalt-blue curtain of water.
Sobuku took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She relaxed, falling into a pattern of slight glances and eye movements to invoke system functions: one look at an icon hovering on the outer edges of peripheral vision and moving both eyes would bring either starboard or port visual displays to the forward position. Closing her eyes once rapidly brought the spinning display to a halt. Individual segments could be pulled out of the array and put back into place by focused head movements. She got a feel for the ship by invoking every system and interacting with the interfaces.
Ten operational run-throughs later, at a depth of 3,000 meters, the fuel source beacon flashed. At the same time the down facing visual display showed light rays magnified by bubbles of oxygen-rich air rising to the surface.
Sonar signals reflected a moving cloud of d
ark objects swimming in tight formation. Like a ragged black hole shape-shifting across walls of brightness.
Kenshin stepped back. When his shoulders touched the walls, a niche formed. The conning tower accepted his dimensions and grew extensions that held his body in place. “Refuel,” he said.
Sobuku brought her chin to her chest; the Gato turned its snout downward. When her projected line of sight matched the projected trajectory of the ship, Sobuku set the forward-facing visual display to show increased magnification and detail refinement. Schools of massive black fin tuna darted in and out of a column of amberjacks rising hundreds of meters above the canyon.
From studying the manuals, Sobuku knew the pilot of a ship-whale had to back-off the controls, allowing the animal’s natural instincts to feed to return. A delicate balance needed to be reached between the energy stored in the ship’s Coreglass, the reasoning and reflexes of the pilot, and the whale’s primitive instincts. A true test of the man, mineral, and animal.
The Gato dove straight down. Hundreds of 800 kilogram tuna scattered in all directions. With its long lower jaw partially open, the Gato beat its tail and snapped at a passing blur. Sobuku heard a crunching sound as the Gato sunk its teeth into a trashing tail and then devoured the tuna in three bloody bites. The whale obeyed an instinct, turning its body into sharp s-curves while inflicting savage bites. Three kills later, when the fuel status indicator read full, Sobuku cleared her mind of all thoughts. Full control returned to the conning tower when the bond of mental energy in Sobuku’s mind and the power source locked in the crystal fibers of the Coreglass met.
Sobuku breathed a sigh of relief when the conning tower became fully operational. Seconds later, her pulse pounded in her temples. A burning sensation passed over pores being forced open by beads of sweat. Sobuku’s embedded chip, now harmonized with her outer shell, controlled her natural adrenaline secretions. She felt a momentary rush of heat as her body temperature increased and escaping perspiration dried.
Druid's Descendants Page 4