appeared to burst away from the sub and up to the underside of the docking platform on the Old Pelletier's west-wing.
The calm female voice of an automated message played in Neil's headset: "Please follow the highlighted route."
With relief, Neil pulled his throttle palettes back to fourth-brace and the Mercury sub accelerated forward. "What was all that about?" he muttered to himself.
The hotel building loomed more clearly up ahead as Neil leant back on the control board and pulled his sub into a climb towards it. Ascending into the brighter water, he could see that the golden instructions on his holoso were now highlighting the distant docking-stage – a rectangular grate with a sub-cradle – as it descended from the platform's underside.
As he climbed closer still, the automated voice played again: "Berth seven is now ready for docking. Please proceed to your designated docking stage."
Drawing closer, the guideline on Neil's holoso display changed to a set of much more precise pitch and bank instructions on how he should correct his bearing. Before long, the daylight from the surface was dulled by the huge blanket-like presence of the docking platform overhead. He leveled off about five meters below the surface and slowed back to brace-one as he approached the docking stage.
Easing the sub through the stage's front two lift rails, Neil closed his throttle-palettes forward for a moment, giving the Mercury a short burst of reverse to stop it completely. He let the sub sink into the supports below it and once the motion of the water was completely replaced with the solidity of the cradle, he began to unclip his harness from the control board.
The soothing automated voice played a final time: "Thank you for docking sensibly. Please remember not to open your sub's life-support hatches until the docking stage is completely locked into the platform. Doing so may result in the flooding of your bathysphere and death."
Neil paused from unclipping his harness, one eyebrow raised. He cast a wide-eyed look around the bathysphere.
"We hope you have a nice day at The Old Pelletier," the message concluded.
"Oh," Neil replied with the driest of sarcasm, "I'm sure I will."
As if in an immediate response, a message from Rebecca pinged on his handphone – it simply read
"Oh," he said, his EmoteLive beeping again. "Never mind." He shook his head to recall his focus. "Hey I really need to meet…" He rethought what he was going to say. "I really need to get to that review."
They both sagged disappointedly.
"Do you really want to meet
TideBreakers: Death On Foils Page 2