Far From The Sea We Know (38 page)

And there he was now on the screen, shown
sitting in front of Matthew, looking very much at home, as usual.
Becka was running through a checklist. Matthew was tending the
communications gear and backing up Becka on instrumentation. Penny
felt slightly ill just looking at them. They were crammed together
so tightly. It was just a sardine when reduced to its fundamentals.
Or a coffin. No, she scolded herself, do
not
think like
that!

Her father glanced back at Becka. “Any
problems?” His voice came through the speaker almost as if he were
in the monitor room.

“No…Doctor Bell. No problems.”

There had been hesitation in Becka’s voice.
Maybe this was Becka’s first trip with her father, Penny
speculated. Most of his students were in awe of him, though it was
considered unfashionable to show it.

The
Bluedrop
crew quickly set up all
the instruments and systems. Becka was speaking with Malcolm, their
prime contact person above until Emory made it back to the lab.
Occasionally they spoke with Andrew on the bridge. He could hear
everything, and had his own video array. Her father didn’t want
technology to cut people off from direct contact, but he wasn’t a
Luddite, either.

Becka had been chanting her way through the
checklist, but now finally said, “We have green all around, Doctor
Bell.”

“Good. Descend to ten meters and hold.”

On the sonar, it looked like they were just
a pebble, dropped into a bottomless well.

“Ah, good,” her father said. “Lovely to be
below the waves. She’ll feel steady as a rock when she reaches her
true element.”

“Going through a few more checks,” Becka
said, and began reciting a stream of readouts like a litany. Her
droning voice was oddly soothing.

Malcolm was intent upon the constantly
changing lights on his control boards, but he suddenly looked up
just as Emory appeared in the hatchway. He had a towel around his
neck and his mass of hair and beard were still dripping. The chair
sagged as he traded places with Malcolm, and his head swiveled back
and forth as he tried to quickly take it all in while toweling his
beard and hair.

“Seems okay,” he finally said. He looked at
Malcolm who gave him a thumbs-up.

“Good to go up here.
Bluedrop
?” Emory
said.

“My board’s clear,” Becka said.

“All right,” her father said. “Has any one
of you any objections at all to going on?”

In the monitor, the look of puzzlement on
Becka’s face was clearly visible. Penny knew her father’s little
ritual.

“It is a serious question,” he continued.
“What say you?”

“I’m ready,” Becka said. Matthew just
nodded.

“I’ll take that as a yea. With hopefully the
blessing of whatever godlings hold sway here, let us descend.”

He glanced at Becka. “Take us down.”

The exterior monitors showed bubbles
releasing out of the ballast tanks. As they dropped into the deep,
the green sea swiftly gave way to blue, then dark blue, and finally
jet-black. The lights pushed out, illuminating whatever the water
carried and bringing a little color back. The air inside was
already cooling, according to one of the instrument readouts.
Matthew had a hand to his earphones, which he wore over a
backward-turned baseball cap. He was listening intently to all the
talk. Maybe, thought Penny, he was listening for her.

“Descent running at forty for one,” Matthew
said. “How we looking up there?”

“All okay,
Bluedrop
,” Emory replied.
“We have you on side-scan at west fifty-seven degrees south of
dome’s dead center by nine hundred and sixty meters.”

“Perfect,” her father said. “We’ll come in
from the side rather than crashing down on top. About twenty
minutes will get us down, yes?”

“About right, Doctor,” Becka said.

As the
Bluedrop
crew made their way
to the bottom, Emory and Malcolm continually reviewed the
instrument readings, and as far as Penny could tell, there was
nothing unusual. The clock seemed to be holding onto every minute
and she felt like stepping outside for air, but stayed glued to the
floor behind Malcolm’s chair.

“We are about three hundred meters from the
bottom,” her father said. “Coming to a stop…now.”

The sonar indicated that they had halted
their descent and were motoring toward the dome.

“There it is!” Becka cried out. “God!” The
floodlights lit it up surprisingly well. The first obvious
impressions were that it was more rounded than it had appeared on
the Navy video, and far more intricate.

“You see?” her father said. “Nothing like
really being here.”

Penny could see Matthew gazing out the
window and hear him softly mumbling, but could not make out the
words.

“Can you see all this on your screens up
there?” her father said.

“The video feed is, wow, just fantastic,”
Malcolm said. “We’re tying it into the sonar and already building a
model.”

“Sensors are pulling in tons of data,” Emory
added.

“Doctor Bell, it’s Lieutenant Chiffrey. Can
you hear me?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“We can see the surface curving down, and
the texture shows up much better, more detailed than what we got
from the ROV. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’m not surprised. Our lights, of course,
are not penetrating far enough to see the whole structure at once,
although the water is remarkably clear. Clearer than it should be
given the high nutrient levels we detected before. But maybe they
were just in the surface layer. The curvature goes down steeply,
and we are now following it down. Are all the feeds getting
through?”

“Yes,” Emory said, “all cameras. Should have
an excellent record for use later.”

“Good,” her father answered. “I don’t see
the numbers of fish that we were getting up top. From our readout,
nutrient levels are down from what they were closer to the surface.
Perhaps it’s intermittent. The O
₂
concentration is fine,
however.”

Penny said to Emory, “Maybe something has
changed down there. Dad, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, as always. We’ll be
careful. And this first visit is not going to be a long one, in any
case. Thirty minutes more, tops.”

In spite of the obvious wonder at what they
were beholding, Penny thought Becka appeared remarkably calm. Her
eyes were full of amazement, but she still did her job. That’s why
her father had chosen her.

“A sea urchin,” Becka said, as if thinking
out loud.

“But a tiny bit larger,” her father replied
with a chuckle. “I know you mean the shape and surface structure,
and you’re right. The convolutions appear to describe a definite
pattern, some kind of complex but elegant symmetry. Didn’t notice
that so much on the Navy video.”

Penny nodded as if he could see her. The
structure reminded her of an architectural dome she had seen in
Spain, but turned inside out, so that the incredibly intricate
pattern was on the outside.

Matthew spoke softly. “It’s so perfect…”

Silence. Then her father said, “Enjoying the
view, Lieutenant?”

“Fantastic. I’m speechless.”

He wasn’t smirking. But, finding words after
all, Chiffrey asked, “Do you still think it’s natural?”

“It does give me a sense of something that
grew this way,” her father responded. “But animal, vegetable, or
mineral? All of those and something else I can’t say. I can say I
wish all of you could be here. What we see on the screens is
nothing compared to what I am looking at directly out the port. It
is absolutely awesome in the full and correct sense of the
word.”

“It’s like a holy place,” Becka said. “Like
a temple.”

“It may be one,” Matthew said, continuing to
gaze out the port. The look of rapture on his face was like that of
a child.

“Domes are often a feature of sacred
spaces,” her father said. “So it makes sense that you would feel
that way.”

“Look there!” Matthew pointed.

On the underside camera, the large opening
at the bottom of the dome came into view, the cave-like feature
they had just a glimpse of in the Navy video. Penny knew, as well
as if she had read his mind, her father would want to get a closer
look. It resembled a vent of some kind, and the
Bluedrop
descended toward it. Her father brought the minisub around until it
was pointing straight at the opening, which ran down to the bottom
and into the sand.

“Incredible,” her father said.

“Be careful,” spoke Andrew from the bridge.
“Looks like some turbulence kicking up.”

“I can feel a current. I’m taking us back
twenty meters.”

“It looks like water is being sucked
in
,” Becka said.

“You’re not moving,” Emory said, cupping his
head mic a little closer, as if not wanting anyone in the lab to
hear.

“Martin,” Andrew said with a note of
concern, “better get out of there.”

“Yes. But as I increase power, the pull of
the current seems to match it.” Bell almost laughed. “Goodbyes are
difficult.”

“Are you snagged on something?” Penny asked,
worried. She could stand it no longer. “Dad, get out of there, that
thing is trying to suck you in. Get out, get out, blow the ballast
for God’s sake!”

She could see sand and bits of seaweed being
drawn into the mouth of the opening, faster and faster until it
formed a twisting whirl like a giant sink drain. She gripped the
back of Malcolm’s chair so hard one of her fingernails cracked.
Then suddenly, like a blender with the plug pulled, the current
stopped. The
Bluedrop
, engines still revving, shot backward
like a torpedo.

“Are you all okay?” Emory said, in a voice
of unconvincing controlled calm. His face was covered in sweat.
Malcolm wore an anxious smile. Penny found none of this
reassuring.

“We’re fine,” her father said. “Quite a
ride, that. Hit the bow planes, so we angled up away from the
bottom. No damage. Whatever was happening seems to have subsided.
Extraordinary. Glad we got that on video. I could see into the
opening at one point, maybe ten meters. Could have sworn there was
a little light in there.”

“Are you coming up now, Doctor Bell?” Emory
asked. “The plan was that if anything happened…”

“I hate to, but yes, coming up. Hang on.
Look there, isn’t it reversing? The current is coming
out
now. The color of the water…”

“Dad! Come up
now
!”

“The power,” Becka said, her voice suddenly
a notch higher in pitch. “Cut the—”

There was a screech on the intercom. Emory
yelped and yanked off his headphones. Malcolm froze, startled.
Emory cautiously held up an earpiece and listened as he hit a few
instrument keys.

“I lost them. First there was a loud—”

“Heard it,” Andrew said.

“You’ve
lost
them?” Penny said.

Emory glanced at Malcolm, then up at her,
and the worry in his eyes was alarming. Malcolm’s nose began to
run. He wiped it on his sleeve. “Everything’s gone dead. There’s
nothing.”

Emory’s look of shock suddenly intensified.
“The cable…”

Penny looked at the lifeless instruments.
The room was suddenly like a bed of chloroform-soaked cotton. She
couldn’t think. An image formed in her head of what it would be
like to have that unimaginable amount of pressure slamming into
you, the tons of water with the weight of the entire ocean cramming
your body down to a lifeless smear. Then you’d be some dark thing’s
next meal, the small bites, quick and furtive, then yanking,
tearing—

“Stop!” she whispered to herself.

“What?” Malcolm asked as he jerked his head
around.

“On the scope,” Andrew said. “What’s down
there? Malcolm?”

“Nothing! The dome’s gone. I mean, it’s off
the sonar again.” Malcolm gave a worried look to Emory who rubbed
his forehead with thick stubby fingers.

“What else?” Andrew said.

“Readings indicate the cable is no longer
attached.”

“Hauling it up now,” Andrew said. “Not as
much drag as there should be. It’s severed.”

Penny cried out. “What is that?” Something
had just appeared on the sonar screen.

“Might be them!” Emory said. He stared at
the instruments arrayed before him as if examining entrails for
portents. “It’s the
Bluedrop
. Looks intact. No sign of
debris.”

“Are they moving?” Penny asked. “Emory!”

“Yes, yes, but they may be drifting. North.
Strange. Can see them, but not the dome.”

“Maybe it’s different for them,” Malcolm
said. “They’re not on the bottom, maybe…”

“When did they last reset the dead-man
switch?” she asked interrupting. “It’s set to go off at
twenty-minute intervals unless they override, correct?”

“Right,” Emory said, pointing to a countdown
readout. “About twelve minutes ago.” With the dome now gone from
the sonar screen, the single blip looked small and lonely.

Andrew’s voice finally came over the
speaker, breaking the silence. “Eight minutes. All we can do is
wait.”

The
Bluedrop
idled in the deep
current, swaying slowly, coming finally to a balance point. She
floated in almost total darkness, her lights gone. No one had
ignited the flares. Only the glimmer of phosphorescent organisms,
disturbed by her passing, betrayed her existence. She became part
of an ancient current. There was no hurry. There was nothing,
nothing but the silence of the sepulcher. A small wheel clicked one
last notch.

“They’re coming up,” Emory said.

“We’re moving out of their way,” Andrew said
as the engines came to life. “Keep a sharp eye. Divers are ready,
could use another. Emory?”

“I’m there,” he said, and immediately headed
out the hatchway.