A Triple Thriller Fest (83 page)

“Hello, Bill,” said McHugh.  “How have you been, Mr. Wong?  It’s good to see you again.  You’ve got a thankless job, Bill.  Your men are to be commended on their patience and diligence.  Not too many men would give up their families and surface life to live on the ocean bottom for six months at a time.”

McHugh was dressed in the special fire-retardant cotton, navy blue jumpsuit that was the required uniform while aboard the Watch Station.  On his feet were special grounding boots that discharged any static electricity safely.  On the collars of his uniform were embroidered silver stars signifying his rank.  Under his jumpsuit, McHugh had remembered to put on his long johns, also made of the same fire retardant cotton material.

Despite all efforts to control the temperature and humidity at the Watch Stations, they tended to be damp and cold, especially to the occasional visitor or new crew member.  The dampness and relatively cool temperature of the atmosphere aboard the Watch Station gave the air a characteristic staleness: a metallic, oily, heavy, wet smell.

O’Shannon wore a jumpsuit similar to McHugh’s.  Like so many of his crew, a personal headset for a Walkman hung around his neck.

Watch Station One was constructed as a network of eight spherical compartments connected by short crawl ways.  Each sphere was segregated from the others by airlocks.  Despite the incredible pressures outside the spheres, the pressure inside the spheres was maintained at standard atmosphere or surface pressure.  Although passage to each sphere was through crawl ways, the spheres were quite large, enabling all twelve of the crewmen to be quite comfortably gathered in any one sphere at one time.

The main command module was packed with instrumentation and recording devices, including one of the new DataTech Neural Network Supercomputing Systems Mark I.  The temperature of the Mark I was maintained by a novel cooling system that provided cooling using solid copper heat conductors connected to an outside heat exchanger.  The Mark I computer controlled all the systems at Watch Station One, including the recording of all data.

The main command module was originally the only one that had anything resembling windows — nine centimeter portholes.  However, the crew quarters had been outfitted later with one porthole each; dictated by CSAC psychologists as essential for maintaining sanity.  Such conveniences were not easily decided upon because of the sea pressures encountered at these depths: the first casualties were portholes.

In order to see out the portholes in the main command module and crew quarters, the interior lights had to be turned off and the outside lights lit.  Not that the crew spent much time looking out the portholes.  Even with the outside lights on, there just wasn’t anything to see but the immense black mass that lay at the edge of the light.  At these depths, there was simply no life to speak of.

About the only activity one could see in the bleak, black void was what most called “snowfall.”  What they were referring to was the seemingly constant fall of detritus from the upper reaches of the ocean.  This detritus consisted of lifeless remains from the rich biological photic regions of the ocean drifting slowly down to the ocean bottom.

The other spheres at Watch Station One contained living quarters, a kitchen, a workshop and gymnasium, the submersible room, the nuclear reactor that powered the station, and the transfer room.  The transfer room was equipped with a docking station and airlock for the submersibles that brought replacement crews, mail, and supplies.  The submersible room also contained an airlock for one of the two Benthic Ranger submersibles attached to the Watch Station.

Benthic Ranger was the latest generation of Squid submersibles that had been developed by MacAlear Aviation.  Infinitely more comfortable than the
Squid
, Benthic Ranger could hold up to six people in relative comfort, twelve if absolutely necessary.  Each Watch Station had two Benthic Rangers, which served as patrol vehicles as well as escape pods, if the need ever arose.  The second Benthic Ranger was accessed from the crew’s living quarters via the submersible room.

All the spheres except for the main command module and the two spheres that served as living quarters were awash in brilliant light.  Some psychologist had a theory that programmed lighting, especially bright white light, could control sleeplessness in artificial environments such as this.  The living quarters, however, were more softly lit.  This was done to encourage sleep and rest.  One of the living quarters had been painted a pastel pink.  Again, some think-tank psychologist thought that pink would have a calming effect on the crew.  The crew especially disliked the pink color.  Soon, only newer crew members had to endure it.  Rank still had some privileges even among the enlisted men.

The main command module was bathed in red light, in order to facilitate the monitoring of the cathode ray tubes, television monitors and other instrumentation.

The Watch Station’s complement of twelve was divided into two six-man teams, each working twelve hour shifts.  As the Watch Station commander, O’Shannon led one of the two crews, called the Gold Crew.  His deputy commander, Wong, led the second crew, called the Blue Crew.

The mission of the Watch Station crew was to monitor the geophysical state of an immense dark object about fifty yards from the station for any indication of life, electronic, biological, or otherwise.  Data was collected from transponders strategically located on and in the vicinity of the Sentinel.

Besides the general measurements of temperature, biological oxygen demand, salinity, current and water density, more specific measurements were taken of magnetic background with the new generation proton precession magnetometer which over the years had replaced the metastable helium process for measuring magnetic flux.  The instrumentation also continuously measured radioactivity, electromagnetic radiation, conductivity, seismic activity, and opacity.

In addition to the geophysical measurements, an extensive program of biological monitoring was conducted to determine the presence of life forms, if any should appear.

Outside, on top of the Watch Station and at strategic points surrounding the object, was a network of scanning sonars and television monitors.  Strobe lights attached to the video cameras also could be controlled by switches inside the main command sphere.

The discovery of not one but four massive non-naturally occurring objects was particularly jarring to the senior levels of government.  Some officials even went so far as to call the four structures “Sentinels,” suggesting that they were somehow actively monitoring the Earth, for what and for whom no one knew.

As a consequence of these events, Watch Stations were constructed to monitor the objects found in the four locations around and in North America.  The first on-station post was a refitted Ambrose Lightship permanently anchored in 18,000 feet of sea water.  The instrumentation designed to detect changes at the object was deployed from the surface ship.  As deep submergence technology improved during the early seventies and the consequences wrought by the discovery of the objects began to sink into the minds of the decision makers, the idea was formed to permanently locate manned stations on the bottom near each of the massive objects.

The first station to be designed and deployed soon after the
Squid
submersible missions were completed in 1973 was Watch Station One in 1974.  Shortly thereafter, three other stations were built and deployed.  One was set in the deepest depths of Lake Superior where a similar object had been detected by an ore research vessel.  A third station was located in the submarine canyons in the Pacific Ocean beyond Santa Catalina Island off the coast of California.  The fourth and final Watch Station was established in the Gulf of Alaska.  All the Watch Stations were of similar design although the later ones were more comfortable than Watch Station One.  But the most popular assignment at the CSAC Undersea Affairs Department was the flagship, the one that started it all.

The Watch Stations were active duty vessels of the United States Navy and relatives of the crews assigned to the Watch Stations believed that their loved ones are serving on experimental submarines.  CSAC had seen to it that the true purpose of the Watch Stations was not known to anyone without the proper clearance.  Mail, food, and other supplies were delivered to the Watch Station every week by robotic delivery submersibles.

Life on board Watch Station One was tedious: constant calibration of instrumentation and constant maintenance.  Data recording and data interpretation were also conducted by the crew.  The data they collected were sent topside for analysis to determine the presence of any change from the baseline information collected over the last twenty years.

McHugh, surprisingly agile for someone in his early sixties, scampered through the passageways as if he were a child.  McHugh and O’Shannon made their way to the main command module, while Wong excused himself for the mandatory rest period, which was required immediately following a twelve-hour duty period.  By requiring mandatory rest periods, the CSAC psychologists believed they could modify circadian behavioral cycles to maximize efficiency during the duty periods.  However, B.F. Skinner be damned, no company shrink was going to deny Wong the chance to meet the old man, who had become a god over the years to many of the younger CSAC permanent staff.

Wong’s crew was also anxious to meet the legendary old man.  However, they would have to wait until their shifts began.  Rank still had some privileges even at 18,000 feet below the surface of the sea.

After meeting Admiral McHugh in the mess hall and activity area, the three members of O’Shannon’s crew who had been able to break free to meet him drifted off to their respective tasks.  Afterward, McHugh and O’Shannon headed toward the main command module where Sonar Mate John Lawrence had remained during the festivities.  Before entering the main command module, both McHugh and O’Shannon had to spend a few minutes sitting in the passageway between the mess hall and the main command module while their eyes acclimated to the red light.  Once adjusted to the red light, O’Shannon unlatched the steel dogs of the hatch and he and McHugh entered the main command module.

“Hello, Captain,” said Sonar Mate John Lawrence.

“Admiral, this is John Lawrence, the best instrument man in the Navy,” said O’Shannon with obvious pride.

Lawrence snapped to attention and saluted.

Returning the salute, McHugh said, “At ease, Mr. Lawrence.  Congratulations.  By determining so swiftly that a message was being played out, you’ve helped our effort immensely.  Tell me how it happened.”

“Sir, I was about halfway through my watch when the annunciator started flashing and the panel alarms sounded.  This indicated that the sensors had picked up something.  It’s always terrifying when that happens because you don’t know if it’s just something normal like a seaquake somewhere — we do have very sensitive instruments — some unfriendly intruder, or something on the Rock.  But this time it was different.  There seemed to be a pattern.”  Younger CSAC operatives used the term, “Rock”, when describing the Sentinels.  Although the term was not officially sanctioned by CSAC, even McHugh would find himself using this same diminutive at times.

Lawrence turned toward his instrument panel.  “I immediately began both the backup sequence and the checkout sequence.  I made sure to switch on both the analog and the digital recorder to backup any real signals that we might have been receiving.  On checkout, all of our sonar, electromagnetic and other equipment proved to be operating fine.  We don’t affect our measuring capabilities by conducting the checkout since it’s done by digital electronic means.  Anyway, once I was certain that there were, in fact, signals being sent, I alerted the skipper.  He sent out the general alert.

“The signal I detected was more than a tonal adjustment or amplitude adjustment in the magnetometer, there was a definite regularity to the signal.  It was almost as if there were a message to be understood, like the old Morse code used in the telegraph system of the early eighteen hundreds.”

McHugh asked O’Shannon if any visual inspections had been made at the site.  O’Shannon nodded.  “We conducted an on-site inspection but no visual clues appeared, just the message, which was repeated for two days.  It’s been silent since.”

McHugh frowned.

O’Shannon continued.  “We sent both of our Jason-II units to inspect the object immediately after the transmittal of the apparent message.  The Jason-II’s are outfitted with practically every instrument known, thermometers, metabolic O
₂
analyzers, CO
₂
analyzers, flux gauges, magnetometers, you name it.  They also have television cameras and passive and active sonar.  Since the Jason-II units are tethered vehicles, we get real time information.  So far, they haven’t detected anything except the same magnetic fluctuations we recorded in the Watch Station.”

“Did you use the Benthic Ranger?” said McHugh.

“No, Admiral.  We didn’t think that we needed to since the Jason-II’s hadn’t detected anything abnormal.  But since you’re here, we should probably take one out for a spin.  Let me get Barry Morris, he’s my best Benthic Ranger pilot,”

O’Shannon picked up the black intercom handset.  “Can you get Chief Morris?”

“Aye, sir,” said the young engineer’s mate.  “Chief, the boss wants to talk to you.”

“Aye, sir,” said Chief Warrant Officer Barry Morris.

“Barry?  Can you hand over the engineering room?  Admiral McHugh and I would like to tour the site in
Benthic Ranger One
.”

“Aye, sir.”

O’Shannon switched off the intercom.  “Admiral, Chief Morris asked that we meet him in the submersible module.”

“Good morning, Admiral,” said Morris, a large, heavy-set man in his late forties.  Morris had a reputation as one of the best engineering officers in CSAC.  He was one of the first recruits to the CSAC contingent and had worked on the construction of Watch Station One.  He had spent his entire Navy career serving on Watch Stations.