Abyss Read online

  “Magnificent.” Jack straightened. “How many crew do you have?”

  “I’ll be piloting, but I’m looking for you to provide assistance as copilot. Other than pilots, our crew requirements are minimal due to the automation. There’s a place for Cate, obviously. Then we have a communications and sensors technologist, weapons officer, and a maintenance and engineering specialist. We can fit up to ten crew but, this trip, we have decided to store more compressed air, and fewer bodies – every ounce counts.”

  “Understood.” Jack acknowledged.

  “Then if there’s nothing else …” Mironov paused, his eyes gleaming. “It’s time for us to begin.” He held his arm out toward a movable set of stairs that led to a recessed open hatch.

  * * *

  Mironov left Cate and Jack at the Nautilus so he could spend several moments talking softly to Sonya. Cate turned to watch; the Russian touched Sonya’s cheek with the back of his hand, and then they embraced. Sonya nodded to something he said, and then stood back, stiffening her spine. He rejoined them.

  Cate raised an eyebrow. “Sonya not coming?”

  “No,” Mironov said. “I need her here managing our support operations. The Anastasia is also armed, and if we need some backup, she’ll be our mother ship … and sanctuary.”

  He waved them on. Jack went first, followed by Cate. Valery hung back for a moment issuing his final instructions. When he came down, the hatch was closed behind him. It fit in flush with the superstructure to create a streamlined effect over the skin of the submersible.

  Cate inhaled. She’d been in submersibles before, and they were cramped and smelled of oil and sweaty bodies. This craft, though still with little headroom, smelled more like a new car, with wood paneling, chrome and masses of electronics.

  Two men, in the same clothing they all wore, were already seated. Mironov walked over and put his hand on one of their shoulders. The man took a comm. loop off his head and turned.

  Mironov swept his hand around the space. “Welcome to our command center, the brains of the Nautilus.” He looked down and smiled. “And to the real brains behind our vessel.”

  He kept a hand on the man’s shoulder. “This is Mr. Michael Brenner, our communication and sensor specialist. He’ll be our eyes and ears while we’re traveling.” He walked the few steps to the next man. “Dr. Francis Williams, engineering and maintenance. Francis helped me design the Nautilus, and I couldn’t keep him out if I tried.”

  The older man turned and grinned. “Damn right. He breaks this baby, he answers to me.”

  Mironov chuckled and then waved Cate and Jack on to the very front of the craft. The bridge had a sloping nose and they needed to duck and crouch to get to the pilot and copilot’s seats. Two large eye-like windows were at the front with smaller windows at the sides. Gleaming technology and winking lights glowed across sophisticated-looking panels.

  Mironov motioned to the glass. “Tempered alumino-silicate glass panels acting as pressure panes – the same type of glass used in the space shuttle and designed for maximum strength to withstand the vacuum of space. This is also a little like a two-way mirror – very little of our movement and lighting will be reflected externally. We all know how sensitive some deep-sea creatures are to light sources, so best to travel in near total darkness.”

  “And silence,” Jack said.

  Mironov’s mouth turned down. “Not everything is possible.” He turned away. “Follow me.”

  Just before he left, Brenner turned in his seat. “Sir, ten minutes to continental shelf edge.”

  Mironov nodded. “Good. Once at depth, we’ll deploy supercavitation, and accelerate to our destination.” He shepherded them into the rear. “We need to hurry now.”

  Along the way, Cate noticed there were watertight bulkheads. “Can the command center disengage from the main vessel?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course. If we need to, the front of the ship can act as an isolated submersible. But let’s hope we don’t need to as we’ll lose our cavitation speed.”

  They headed into Nautilus’ rear where Mironov pointed out a few tiny cabins for rest or sickbay, and also doors marked for weaponry. They came to a watertight door and the Russian spun the heavy wheel and pushed it open. There was another man with a computer tablet who turned as they entered.

  “Presenting Dr. Thomas Andrews, weapon tech.”

  Cate was impressed, especially as the man seemed only a few years out of his teens. “What field was your doctorate?”

  Andrews lowered his computer tablet and rose to his feet. “Pure mathematics and physics, honors from UCLA.” He smiled widely. “I specialize in high-intensity particle beams.”

  “Damn,” Jack said. “Remind me not to play chess with this guy.”

  “I prefer checkers.” Andrews held out his hand.

  He shook hands with both Cate and Jack, as Mironov beamed with pride. “Gone are the days when all you needed was a strong arm to feed cannon shells and an ability to turn a lug nut. These days, we are basically flying an armed computer. Different skill sets are needed.”

  Jack nudged Cate. “See, I told you the nerds would inherit the world one day.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll still need a few strong arms to turn a lug nut.”

  Mironov looked at his watch. “Events are catching up with us; Mr. Andrews, carry on.” He grabbed Jack’s arm, as he led them back to the front of the craft. “We’ll be over the shelf soon, so, Jack, come and I’ll give you the once-over. You can take her down along the shelf wall, and then I’ll resume control when we are about to deploy the supercavitation. Follow my instructions, learn, and build on your existing submersible knowledge.”

  “Great.” Jack nodded. “But one question: when we’re traveling at such significant speed under the water, what happens if we hit something?”

  “Don’t worry, the air bubble is extremely resilient. Even if we collide with something the size of a whale, it’ll get shunted aside.” Mironov grinned. “Or we’ll pass through it.”

  “Not great if you’re a slow whale,” Cate observed.

  “And if it’s something that won’t be shunted aside?” Jack asked.

  “Well, if it’s something like a seamount or iceberg, then we’ll be obliterated.” Mironov raised his eyebrows. “But Mr. Brenner is on duty to ensure we avoid those type of obstacles.”

  Mironov led them back into the command center. Brenner and Williams nodded to them. The Russian sat down, and pointed to the seat at his left.

  “Jack, copilot’s seat if you please. Cate, you sit there at one of the lateral view ports.”

  “Good.” Jack sat, and Cate took a seat just to their left, or port side.

  “Getting ready for launch at midnight as planned, sir,” Brenner said. “Anastasia bay area is filling as we speak.”

  “Confirmed,” Mironov said. He grabbed the U-shaped wheel in front of him. There was an identical wheel in front of Jack. Valery explained the controls.

  “Pushing back and forth on the wheel controls the front fins and will determine our elevation. Forward propulsion, port, starboard jets,” he pointed at each lever, button and dial, “is adjusted and maintained by each of the controls in your panel. The Nautilus is mostly automated, and you simply drive it.”

  Jack asked a few questions, but Cate knew he was more eager than hesitant. “Ready when you are,” he said.

  “Excellent. Once the doors are open, I’ll drop us from the cradle, and when we’re 100 feet down, I’ll hand over to you. Nothing like practical experience, yes?”

  “I can’t wait.” Jack flexed his fingers and laid them on the wheel.

  “Pressure check,” Williams said.

  Cate felt her ears pop, and then felt pressure on her eyes.

  Williams checked his screens and dials. “Pressure good. Bay doors now open and bay area is inundated. Cradle release in five-four-three-two-one … release.”

  Water surged over the windows. Being night,
the water was dark, and lights dotted the edge of the bay door, creating a window of blue that quickly merged with the blackness below.

  “Nautilus is now yours, Mr. Mironov,” Williams said as he continued to read from his screens.

  Mironov ignored him and smiled as he spoke softly in Russian into his mouthpiece. Cate imagined Sonya returning the same words of luck, and perhaps love. After another few seconds, Mironov’s smile fell away and he refocused.

  “Thank you, Dr. Williams.” He gently pushed the U-shaped wheel forward. “Taking her down at an inclination rate of twenty-five degrees. Speed is five knots.” He turned to Cate. “One knot is—”

  Cate snorted. “I know, I know; one knot is 1.15 miles per hour. I remember.”

  He half smiled. “My apologies. Of course you do.”

  Cate leaned forward and angled herself so she could look back up at the hull of the Anastasia as the Nautilus dropped. The huge doors were swinging closed and with them went the light. She suddenly felt small and vulnerable. Being below the surface and in the dark water was one thing. But knowing full well what lay ahead of her made her stomach flip.

  Mironov noticed the direction of her gaze. “We should be back in under twelve hours. Sonya will have the Anastasia trail us at top speed and hopefully meet us closer to where the Alvin lies at the edge of the trench.”

  “That long?” Cate asked.

  Mironov stared for a moment. “If we have completed our mission in that time, I will be ordering champagne all round. Considering we have to locate the Alvin, free it, and then escort it to the surface, while fending off a dinosaur shark, then yes, that long and perhaps even longer if unexpected circumstances arise.”

  “So our priority is the Alvin?” Cate lowered her brow refusing to be pushed.

  “Of course. That is priority one and two. And priority three is my trophy.” Mironov tilted his head. “But I suspect one may not be achieved without the other.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, frowning.

  Mironov exhaled slowly through his nose, and swung to Jack. “Take control, Jack, continue at current angle of descent.”

  “You got it.” Jack’s eyes were near luminous, both from the glow of the controls and from his excitement.

  Mironov swung around to face Cate. “We know what these sharks are like. They have similar characteristics to the great white, Carcharodon Carcharias, in that they are aggressive, territorial and will basically eat anything they can get in their considerably sized mouth. You’ve read the survivors’ report of what happened to the Archimedes, yes?”

  Cate nodded once.

  “They believed they were pulled over after something snagged one of their submersibles’ drop cables. But you and I know it was a deliberate attack.” Mironov looked at her sadly. “I don’t think we can expect to enter the Megalodon’s hunting territory without a fight. We may be lucky, and we shall hope for the best.” He turned away. “While planning for the worst.”

  “Coming up to cruising depth,” Williams intoned.

  “But if there is any way to avoid it, we do that, right?” Cate felt her pulse quicken just thinking about it. Suddenly finding herself back underwater wasn’t helping either.

  Mironov spoke over his shoulder. “Jack, level off, increase speed to thirty knots.” He turned back to Cate. “And then brave Vincent went down in a submersible, and was also attacked. We have to assume the creature is down there, either patrolling that portion of the trench as its territory, or trying to find the source of the life-force emanations it might be picking up from your friend’s trapped submersible.”

  Mironov took in a deep breath and his chest swelled. “So, I do not believe there is any way we are going to be given a clear run at freeing the Alvin submersible. I believe we will need to engage. I also believe the options we have will be to run, or to fight. If we run, then we leave Alvin to its fate. If we fight, there might just be a chance.”

  Jack turned. “I’m afraid he’s right, Cate. If Samantha is down there in its territory, it will attack anything that enters it. To save her, we’ll need to kill it.”

  “I have no problem with killing it.” Her eyes burned. “And as long as the rescue is the priority, then we are all on the same page.”

  Mironov clapped his hands once, turned back around and grasped his own wheel. “And now, I believe it’s time for some speed.”

  “Oh boy.” Jack’s eyes lit up.

  Cate watched Mironov, silently fuming over his inference she had some sort of Pollyanna view of what they were doing. But she didn’t care; as long as Sam and her team got out, then everything else was secondary.

  She turned to watch Jack, who sat at his controls grinning, hardly able to suppress his excitement. She began to smile; the big goof was like a kid walking into a fun park.

  “Proximity clearance?” Mironov asked.

  “All clear on all sensors,” Brenner responded, hunched over his bank of screens.

  “Start air ejection; ten percent.”

  “Air ejection to ten percent,” Williams repeated.

  Immediately what looked like the fine bubbles of alka seltzer appeared in front of the Nautilus. They floated up past the windows. Cate had no idea how the cavitation was actually going to work, and couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  “Air ejection is optimal,” Williams added.

  “Raise air ejection to twenty-five percent. Accelerating to thirty knots.” Mironov’s eyes were unblinking as he stared out into the frothing water.

  “Air ejection to twenty-five percent,” Williams repeated again.

  He turned to Jack. “Ready?”

  “Punch it.” Jack’s jaw tightened.

  Mironov smiled. “Engage cavitation, Dr. Williams.”

  “Engaging cavitation. Acceleration control is yours, sir.” The bubbles in front of the window became more furious.

  Mironov tilted his head. “The cavitation occurs when we pick up speed. The bubbles will compress back to coat the vessel, forming a sleeve.” His eyes were now gun steady. “Increasing speed, now.”

  Mironov pushed the wheel forward, and the bubbles became a blinding foam that began to furiously shoot back up over the window as acceleration pressed them all back into their seats.

  “One hundred knots,” Williams said, counting off a screen. “Two hundred, 250, 300 …”

  There was a sensation of shuddering and then, almost miraculously, the windows cleared to perfect clarity.

  “Cavitation achieved,” Williams said.

  “And we are now inside our tunnel.” Mironov beamed, and turned to Jack, whose eyes glowed. “What do you think, Jack?”

  “This. Is truly. Amazing.” He blew air through puffed cheeks. “It really works. It goddamn really works.”

  Mironov raised an eyebrow. “You expected it not to?”

  “So fast,” Jack whispered. “And I can barely feel anything.”

  “Because we’re not pushing through dense water, we’re gliding through air. Remember that Soviet K-222 submarine I mentioned that set the underwater record of 44.7 knots, or 51 miles per hour? It was never going to be viable as it burned too much fuel to ever hold its great speed for more than a few minutes. But in the Nautilus, because we’re traveling in air, our energy consumption is actually going down the faster we travel.”

  “Sonar contact,” Brenner said.

  “Single object?” Mironov became all business.

  Brenner squinted. “No, I think a mass of multiple objects, approximately six to eight feet in length. Could be a large pod of dolphins or a school of tuna. Through them or under them?”

  “Under them,” Cate shot back.

  “Well then, let’s take her down,” Mironov said through a small smile. “Jack, give me a descent angle of forty percent and level out at 1000 feet.”

  Jack pushed the wheel forward, and saw the digital readout on his screen counting off the depths in both fathoms and feet.

  There came a small thud, and Jack grimaced. “S
low dolphin?”

  Mironov shrugged. “Probably. Whatever it was, it would more than likely have been shunted aside. The physical shape of the craft means we tend to slip smoothly through most biological debris in the water tunnel we create.”

  “Biological debris?” Cate scoffed. “Now there’s a description to warm the hearts of ecologists everywhere.”

  “Leveling out,” Jack called.

  “Lights up,” Mironov said.

  Williams flicked some switches. Immediately spotlights threw a huge corridor of light before them. Cate looked from her side window to the larger windows at the front.

  “Wow.” She craned forward. “This is the start of the abyssal plain.”

  The slope before them flattened out to seeming endless gray sea bottom. A few large sea fans stood upright like miniature albino palm trees, and beneath them, fist-sized molluscs made long tracks through the silt. The occasional school of fish scattered from their path.

  “This abyssal plain can run to 4000 feet deep in some places,” Mironov said. “Deep, but nothing like some of the trenches, which can fall away to over 30,000.”

  “Over 36,000,” Jack added. “The Challenger Deep in the Mariana Trench is the real bottom of the world, falling down to 36,000 feet.”

  “So deep,” Cate observed. “And we still have little idea of what lies below 5000 feet, let alone at those depths.”

  “What is low becomes high, and what is high becomes low,” Jack recited.

  “Interesting, Jack; what does that mean?” Mironov half turned.

  “Millions of years ago, this sunken land might have been an early land bridge. Right, Cate?”

  “Yeah, true. When we’ve done dredging on some of these abyssal plains we’ve hauled up mastodon teeth and prehistoric bison.” She nodded toward the seeming endless gray plain. “This sea bottom could well have been a landmass at some time in our primordial past.”