Read From the Deep Online

Authors: Michael Bray

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Sea Stories

From the Deep (26 page)

BOOK: From the Deep
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CHAPTER 56

 

The M180 drone was a brand new prototype developed especially for operating under extreme weather conditions. The size of a large bird, the 180 was initially developed for the civilian sector to plot and monitor underground lava flows at Yellowstone national park. It was equipped with an array of sensors – the most impressive of which was a state of the art multimillion dollar thermographic imager, which was able to detect extreme fluctuations in temperature below the earths surface. In Yellowstone, the underground lava flows had shown as bright white heat against the surrounding rock formations, here in Antarctica, shades of blue and purple were more likely to be on display. The 180 was also fitted with high definition video and audio recording software, as well as sensors to detect air pressure, wind speed, and the minutest fluctuations in the surrounding atmosphere. Powered by multidirectional rotors, the unit had a range of around three miles and was remotely operated by a pilot who could navigate the unit with pinpoint precision.

Andrews was lead developer of the system prior to his involvement with Russo, and had been tasked with modifying the unit for short range military reconnaissance missions.  Now, he was beginning to think his expertise with the prototype was the only reason Russo had decided to hijack his meeting and ensure he was a part of the programme. How Russo knew about the 180 was something which had troubled Andrews for some time. It was meant to be off the books, one of many above top secret research projects designed to further bolster the security of the country and its allies. He made final checks to the unit, and ensured that the video feed was online, the super high definition cameras picking up Andrews and the room with perfect clarity. Taking a last look over the prototype unit to ensure that it was fully operational, he called Russo and told him that they were ready to go.

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Andrews was in the control room, the twin monitors showing the frozen deck of the
Victorious
and the Ross Ice Shelf beyond. Russo paced back and forth, chewing on his fingernails that were already raw and shredded.

“Are you sure it will function in the cold?” he asked as he watched the monitors.

“I’m sure. I have this under control.” Although he didn’t quite smile as he said it, Andrews enjoyed the fact that he was now in charge, and Russo was waiting on his every move.

“Well, let’s get it in the air. There’s no time to waste.”

Andrews nodded, and despite his growing disdain for Russo, he couldn’t help but be excited that his new project was about to go into action. He powered up the drone, the image on screen shuddering as the rotors whirled to life.

“Okay, everything looks good to go.” He said, taking a firm grip of the twin control sticks and gently pulling them towards him. Out on deck, the unit gently lifted into the air, cutting through the falling snow.

“I need to check to make sure that everything is in order here. I’m going to do a quick recon around the boat.”

Russo didn’t answer, instead, he stared at the computer screen as the drone made a slow orbit around the stricken vessel. From outside, the damage was more evident.

“You see that?” Andrews said, pointing to the screen. “That’s all that was stopping us from sinking.”

Russo could see it now on screen, the way the iceberg formed a natural ledge for the
Victorious
to perch on, keeping it from sinking into the black depths of the Antarctic.

“Okay, everything looks to be in order. Let’s go take a look at this ice shelf.”

Andrews teased the controls, expertly making the drone climb away from the vessel and across the icepack. The drone moved into the shadow of the ice shelf, and came to a stop in front of it, its face smooth and solid.

“Okay, let’s take her up.” Andrews said, making the drone ascend. For what seemed like an eternity, the screen was filled with the mountainous white face of the shelf.

“How high is this thing?” Russo asked, a note of concern in his voice. Andrews checked the instruments.

“A hundred and thirty seven feet so far.”

Russo whistled through his teeth as the drone continued to climb. A little after two hundred and four feet, the screen exploded with light as the shelf ended and glorious sunshine cut through the falling snow.

“Man, now that’s a sight for sore eyes.” Andrews mumbled as the Drone moved over the tip, now hovering above the shelf.  “Two hundred and seven feet from bottom to top. You have one hell of a climb ahead of you,” Andrews said, enjoying the increasing uncertainty in Russo’s face.

“What’s that?” He said, pointing to a dark smudge on the screen.

“Looks like a crevasse. Let’s go take a closer look.”

Andrews flew the drone closer to the smudge, and saw that it indeed was a crevasse, a narrow gouge cut into the shelf.

“Thought so, “Andrews said more to himself than actually in conversation with Russo. “This whole place is filled with these. Some of them are smooth as glass and cut right through to sea level. Others start narrow and grow into huge caves or chambers. You fall into one of those deep ones and you won’t be getting out again.”

Andrews had hoped to further unsettle Russo, but saw if anything that he was growing in confidence.

“This is it.  A perfect place for a creature of this size to remain hidden. Begin the imaging process.”

“You know there’s no guarantee you’ll find a way to get to this thing even if it shows up, right?”

“I disagree. You said so yourself, those fissures can grow into chambers, which in turn will feed back into the water. That’s where we will find our way in. All we need to do is to find the right one.”

“If you say so. I still think it’s a suicide mission.”

“Noted.”

“Alright,” Andrews sighed, “let’s take a look and see if we can locate this cave of yours.”

He flicked a switch, and the display changed from the vibrant high definition display to bright blues and blacks, as the thermal imaging device was activated.

“I don’t see any heat source,” Russo said as he stared at the screen.

“You won’t, not yet anyway. This is brand new technology. We can’t just read it in real time. The beam is located underneath the drone on its belly. We need to fly directly over any points of interest, and then fire the beam straight down. We should see the results instantly over on the second screen here. Let me show you.”

Andrews piloted the drone over the fissure and pressed a button on the console. A few seconds passed before the second of the two computer screens was filled with an image that was mostly blue apart from the black cut across it, and was edged with lighter purple shades.

“See how the black gets lighter on the edges? That’s melt water. Over time, these cracks fill with snow that freezes and melts, each time making the hole wider. This one only looks to be around twenty feet deep. In another thousand years, it could be a chamber hundreds of feet wide.”

“So it’s not what we’re looking for?” Russo asked.

“No, you aren’t that lucky. We’re looking for something a lot bigger. There are a few more anomalies ahead, let’s go check those out.”

“How will we know when we find it?”

“Believe me, you’ll know when you see it.”

Russo nodded as the drone moved towards its next waypoint.

 

CHAPTER 57

 

 

The room where Rainwater, Clara and Mackay had been held previously, was now being used as a makeshift medical centre, and so Mito had locked them into one of the unused crew quarters.  Although cramped, this one at least had two bunk beds and a small window. The bruised and beaten Mackay sat on one of the bunks and gingerly lay down, folding his hands behind his head.

“You okay?” Rainwater asked as he sat on the opposite bunk.

“I am now that prick has been stopped, although these beatings are starting to take it out of me.”

“How long had you been planning to ground the ship?”

“Since they forced me to take over. There was no way I was about to let that wanker cause any more pain.”

“Speaking of pain, how are you holding up?” Clara asked.

“I’ve been worse, I’m just sore, that’s all.”

“So, what do we do now?” She said.

“Not much we can do.” Rainwater replied. “Coast Guard will have been called. They’ll come and evacuate the boat and we can all go home.  As far as plans go, it was pretty genius, Mac.”

“Not really,” Mackay replied as he folded the pillow under his head and kicked off his boots. “I just used the conditions against him. That dickhead has no idea what he got himself into. Believe me, the second I get back to the world, I’m going to the press. I’m bringing this prick down.”

“Do you really want to go there? I mean the backlash could be—”

“I’m prepared to risk it,” Mackay said, cutting Clara off. “I convinced Ox to come out on this trip, and because of that, he’s dead.”

“That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t know what would happen.” She said, sitting beside him at the foot of the bed.

“That don’t change the way I feel about it.  Surely you know all about that.” He said, looking over at Rainwater.

“I do,” he replied, “but the longer I’m here, the more I want to get back to normality. I’m sick of all the death and bloodshed. I want to go home.”

“I’m sure we will, as soon as the Coast Guard arrives.” Mackay said, closing his eyes.

“What do we do until then?”

“Nothing. We sit here and wait.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Mackay. You were right. I should have left this well alone.”

“Forget it, lad. You didn’t twist my arm. I knew well enough what was on the cards the second I came out here. Nobody’s to blame.”

Rainwater wanted to thank Mackay, or at least say something. Try as he might, not a single word came to mind. He walked to the window and looked out at the snowscape.

“Hey, something’s going on out here.”

Clara and Mackay joined him as he looked out of the window.

 

 

Mito watched as the crew busied itself preparing equipment out on deck. The snow for the time being had stopped, and now rucksacks of provisions and supplies sat alongside rolls of rope and assorted climbing gear. Morrison walked towards the towering soldier and stood beside him.

“Having a clear out?” he asked as he started to roll a cigarette.

“You haven’t heard?” Mito replied, his breath fogging in the frigid air.

“Heard what?”

“The crazy bastard has found it. We’re heading out on foot.”

“Out?”

Mito nodded to the compacted ice landscape that encased the boat. Morrison followed his gaze and craned his neck up the ice shelf to the summit.

“He can’t be serious. It’s suicide.”

“I tried to reason with him, but he won’t listen.” Mito replied, shrugging his shoulders for emphasis.

“How can he be sure it’s there? The shelf is huge. It covers a ton of area.”

“He says they have a hit on the thermal imager. Looks like some kind of crevasse that opens into a cave system at the water line. Russo seems to think that’s where our creature is.”

“And he’s heading in on foot? What happened to the reinforcements? What happened to waiting for the containment team?”

Mito shook his head. “He won’t wait. They’ve been delayed by the storm and won’t get here until tomorrow. He wants to move on it now before it heads out to feed again.”

“It’s crazy. It’ll never work. Not with so many untrained people out there.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I’m with you all the way. I’m just following orders. He told me to put a team together ready to head out on foot, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Where is he?” Morrison asked, unable to help taking a second glance at the intimidating ice shelf.

“Control room. I don’t expect you’ll change his mind. You know how he is.”

“I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Well, I hope for all our sakes you can convince him not to do this. I don’t get paid enough to die for some damn fish.”

Morrison nodded, tucked his unsmoked cigarette behind his ear, and headed towards the interior of the boat.

 

 

Russo zipped up his bright red winter jacket and adjusted his hat, the dizzying mixture of adrenaline, fear, and withdrawals from his medication proving to be enough to keep him going. The cramps and sweats had been awful to the point where he thought he would rather die than continue to cope with the crippling agony, yet, he somehow got through. True enough, he felt weak and on edge, and his headache had grown into a thunderous migraine, but he was still going. There was a knock on the door, which only served to scratch at his already hypersensitive nerves. Morrison entered without waiting for a response, sitting in the vacant captain’s chair and lighting his cigarette as Russo finished his preparations.

“You know this is a suicide mission.” He said as he exhaled a plume of blue grey smoke.

“You sound like Andrews.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“That ice is plenty thick enough to take our weight.”

“And you know that how exactly?”

Russo didn’t answer, and instead busied himself with double checking his backpack.

“The men are scared. None of them want to do this.” Morrison said, watching Russo carefully.

“Then they should have done something else for a career. This is a job that has risks. Every man on this crew knew that going in. The ice will hold.”

“Maybe so, but that’s just the start isn’t it? Even if you make it across, you still have to find a way to scale that ice shelf.”

“We have ropes. Axes. Climbing equipment. We’ll make it.”

Morrison grinned. “Maybe you have all the equipment, but I have to wonder if you have the men with the skill to get you up there?”

“Isn’t that why I’m paying you?” Russo snapped, glaring at Morrison.

“I suppose so,” he replied, ignoring the thousand yard stare and enjoying his cigarette. “You need to understand this isn’t going to be a walk in the park. I know many a professional climber that wouldn’t risk climbing an ice shelf. It’s gonna cost you extra.”

“How much?”

“Another fifty grand will do it. I’m not a greedy man.”

“That seems like a lot of money.”

“I’m worth every penny.” Morrison replied with a grin. “Even as good as I am, it might not matter anyway.”

“Why?”

“Climbing rocks is easy. You just need to plan and take each hold as it comes. This shelf... well that’s a different story. For starters, they’re unstable. At any point, an entire section could fall into the sea. If that happens, we all die. Then there is the ice itself. It can look solid enough, but can break away at any time. Make no mistake. There are no guarantees here, no matter how good a climber you think you are. I don’t think fifty grand is too high a price under the circumstances.”

“Please,” Russo snorted, “don’t tell me you have morals now. Maybe you should stay here with Andrews and wait for the containment team to arrive.”

Morrison grinned. “You don’t scare easy do you?”

“I don’t scare at all.”

“I do.” Morrison shot back, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. Russo looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “You seem surprised.” He said, watching Russo shuffle from foot to foot.

“I thought you were our fearless survival expert. It doesn’t bode well if you are afraid too.”

“That’s where you have it all wrong,” he replied with a faint smile. “See, a healthy dose of fear keeps the senses sharp. It keeps a person alert. In my experience, without fear, a person is more likely to do something stupid and put themselves at risk.”

“Well, you can trust me that I won’t do that. I pride myself on my planning.”

“I know,” Morrison nodded, “which is why I ask myself why you’re doing this? More importantly, what do you hope to do if you find this beast in its lair? As far as I can see, you’re powerless.”

Russo opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. Morrison had a point. 

“Look,” he said, “I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to make sure we survive. I’ll give you the extra fifty thousand if that’s what it takes. I want the team ready to go within the hour.”

Morrison stood and flicked his cigarette out of the broken wheelhouse window.

“Whatever you say, boss. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. As long as you know, money or no money, I can’t guarantee you that you will live long enough to see this fish of yours.”

“Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

“Maybe,” Morrison said with a shrug, “or maybe we’ll all die out there in the ice. I suppose once we set out from here, all bets are off the table.”

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly want to live.”

“Yeah,” he said, walking past Russo, “don’t we all.”

BOOK: From the Deep
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