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 O2 analyzers, CO2 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.”