Climbing on to the cutter, Mike and Mannington were greeted by the Captain of the cutter. “Welcome aboard, gentlemen. Heard you were on your way.”
“What have you found so far?” said Mike.
“So far the only debris has been six yellow life preservers, no markings except for military specification numbers, and the emergency transponder buoy,” said the cutter’s Captain. “We’re continuing our search. How long do you think it will take to launch the Benthic Ranger?”
“It’s going through final checkout right now,” Mannington replied. “We expect to be able to launch in about one hour. Have you found the transponder locating the site of the Watch Station?”
“Yes, you’re standing over it.”
After examining the life preservers and confirming for themselves that the debris was CSAC issued material, Mike and Mannington launched back to the Morrow.
“Captain Mannington,” said Chief Warrant Officer Jeffrey Graham, the pilot of the Benthic Ranger. “We should be ready to go in about fifteen minutes. Could you and Commander Liu be in the launch bay in Benthic Ranger uniforms in that time?”
“We’ll be there, Mr. Graham.”
Aboard the Benthic Ranger for this dive would be the pilot, Graham, his co-pilot, Senior Chief Petty Officer John Bell, a dive physician, Dr. Ruth Fleming, a Jason pilot, Seaman First Class Alex C. Broward, Mike and Mannington. Because of the operational module for the Jason, the cabin of the Benthic Ranger was crowded.
Graham and Bell were making the final inspection and had just completed the checklist when Mike and Mannington walked on to the dry deck of the launch bay, a platform elevator set in the bowels of the Morrow, a bit of camouflage to deter prying eyes from learning the true purpose of the Morrow.
After Mike and Mannington had boarded the Benthic Ranger, Lieutenant Bell closed the hatch with a solid muffled clang. The O-ring seals gave out a hissing sound as they were seated with compressed air. Mike took a seat directly behind the pilot and Mannington took the adjacent seat behind the co-pilot. Dr. Fleming sat behind Mike and Broward busied himself with checking out the components of Jason.
After all the passengers had buckled themselves to their seats, Graham started the Mess-I nuclear reactor. Navy divers in scuba gear stood around the Benthic Ranger.
”Morrow, this is Benthic Ranger,” said Graham. “Benthic Ranger is ready for launch.”
”Morrow copies, initiating launch sequence.”
With that, the launch platform of the Morrow slowly slid into the ocean powered by the silent motion of hydraulic pistons. Looking out the front window of the Benthic Ranger, Mike watched the Navy divers standing in front of the submersible being slowly swallowed up by the ocean. Soon, the platform had lowered itself past the bottom of the Morrow and the greenish blue light of the surface water replaced the yellowish sodium vapor lights of the launch bay.
The upper water was a teeming aquarium of life as the colorful fish of the photic zone swam all around the vehicle. Navy divers also swam around the Benthic Ranger making their last inspections prior to sending the vehicle to the bottom. Soon, one of the divers swam to the front window and gave the thumbs up sign and then just as quickly disappeared.
“Okay, here we go,” said Graham as he started the rear propeller of the Benthic Ranger. He guided the Benthic Ranger through the hydraulic lifts and into the bluish green sea water. Overhead, the crew of the Benthic Ranger could see the bright white shimmer of the ocean surface. The color gradually changed to a deeper and deeper blue as one looked downward.
Once free of the launch platform, Graham trimmed the diving planes on the submersible and began a rather steep decline.
Mike, who was experiencing the new generation of Benthic Ranger for the first time, was being given a special treat. No longer were the trips to the bottom long, drawn-out spirals. The trip to the bottom lasted about 15 minutes.
The Watch Station looked normal except for the imploded stores module. However, both Benthic Rangers were missing from their moorings. Before going to the Watch Station, the Benthic Ranger made a slow orbit around the Sentinel using both forward scanning sonar and high resolution television to search for the Benthic Rangers and to record the search. With its mercury vapor floodlights on, a fairly large area of the bottom could be explored at one time.
Mike, more used to a limited view, was fascinated by the broad vistas available to the crew of these new Benthic Rangers. He had not been on a Benthic Ranger since the mid-seventies, the last time Mike had been on a tour of active sea duty. The seriousness of the mission did not diminish the awe Mike felt for these new machines.
“Wait a minute, did you see that?” said Mike, as he pointed out the shadowy object at the fringe of the lighted area. Graham brought the Benthic Ranger to a quick stop by reversing the rear propeller.
“Shine the light about ten degrees left,” said Mike.
The tension in the Benthic Ranger was palpable; no one spoke a word as the mercury vapor floodlight was electrically swung toward the object that Mike thought he saw. As the object came into view, a collective expletive was uttered in the Benthic Ranger. The light now brilliantly illuminated the crushed shell of Benthic Ranger One, lying quietly on the bottom, as a newly slain deer might lie in the forest on soft pine needles in freshly fallen snow.
Graham started to move forward when Mike stopped him. “We should run a radiation scan first, Jeff.”
“John, run a profile.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” responded Bell as he switched on the detection instrumentation. “Negative scan.”
Graham pushed the throttle forward and the Benthic Ranger slowly moved toward the hulk of Benthic Ranger One.
“Alex, get Jason ready for deployment.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Broward turned on the electric motors of Jason, ran through the operational sequences for the flood lamp, the video camera, the video recorder, and Jason’s instrumentation package.
“Captain, Jason is ready for deployment.” Regardless of his actual rank, Chief Warrant Officer Jeff Graham was the captain of the Benthic Ranger and was thusly referred to in communications with crew.
“Deploy.”
“Jason deployed.”
The small robot left its cradle on a bracket in front of the Benthic Ranger, its small propellers whirring noisily. As it left the cradle, it dragged its control cable like an umbilical cord. Mike and Mannington gathered around Broward as the seaman operated the toggle control stick like an arcade game. The black and white television monitor flickered perceptibly as the images were relayed back through the control cable.
As Jason snaked its way through the broken front window into the hulk of the disabled Benthic Ranger, the bodies of Dirks and O’Shaunnessy came into view. The results of the sudden compression were evident in the contorted features of the two deceased men. The results were not pretty. The sudden compression had crushed any structure that had contained air at atmospheric pressure, including lungs and bony structures such as nasal passages. The scavengers of the deep had already started their work. Mike often wondered how these creatures gathered so quickly.
“Okay, we’ve seen enough.” Dr. Fleming had joined the viewers when Mike said that the crew of Benthic Ranger One was on the television screen.