Sam nodded. “It’s still a worst-case scenario. I think the risk is acceptable.”
“We have other pressing reasons to reach that sphere before the storm,” Major Marazzato said. “Like beating any other nation from finding it first. If we don’t dive now, how long until we can make another one?”
Sam answered, “It might be a while. This is the first cyclone for the season. It usually sets off the cyclone season, meaning it might be three or four months before we get another good window to dive. I’m happy to take the risk.”
Dr. Smyth sighed, and said, “All right, I vote we take the risk.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sam felt the submarine shift as he strapped himself into the pilot seat. He quickly ran through the cross-check start up procedure using the mnemonic HACHIT — checking the Hatch, Air supply, Controls, Harnesses, Instruments and Trim.
Outside, Veyron confirmed that everything was set to dive.
Sam waited until Veyron climbed off the back of the submarine and then asked, “Are we ready to get this sub in the water?”
“You’re good,” Veyron confirmed.
“Thanks.” Sam turned to his two passengers. “You happy, Dr. Smyth?”
She folded her hands across her lap. “Happy as I ever am when I approach the site of a nuclear disaster.”
Sam turned to his left. “How about you, Major?”
“I’m just glad we’re going to be the first to lay eyes on that sphere.”
Sam flicked on the running lights. “All right. Systems all check out. We’re good to go.”
Sam depressed the radio transmitter. “Tahila, this is Sea Witch II, we’re good for launch.”
“Sorry, Sam,” Matthew replied over the radio. “I didn’t catch the new name for the Triton submersible.”
Sam looked out the windshield, toward Veyron, his palms pointed skyward, he yelled, “What’s her name?”
Veyron shrugged. “We haven’t named her, yet.”
Sam nodded. “Okay Tahila, sorry about the confusion. This is Ursula, we’re ready for launch.”
There was a pause on the radio.
Then Matthew replied, “Copy that Ursula, safe journey to the bottom. We’ll see you in twenty-four hours. Good luck.”
In front of them, Veyron adjusted the controls for the dive elevator. “All right, everyone, here you go.”
Sam felt his gut shift uncomfortably in his seat as Ursula was lowered beneath the lockout hatch beneath the keel. Instead of being dropped into the water, she was now positioned inside her elevator-like cradle beneath the water and well below Tahila’s hull. Still connected to the elevator, she looked like a sports car parked in a tight space.
Sam depressed the release button and then gently pushed the joystick forward. The array of electric motors whirred into life, and Ursula moved quickly out of her cradle. He dipped the joystick, gently dropping another thirty or so feet.
Above them, he stared at the lowered elevator, extending from Tahila’s spacecraft-like hull and keel, like a wart. He pressed another button and the elevator retracted inside the ship’s lockout hatch, leaving the hull trim once more.
Not forgetting his passengers, Sam said, “Welcome to the world under the sea.”
Dr. Smyth said, “We’re not rocking back and forth anymore.”
“No.” Sam flicked the ballast switch. Water began flooding into the tanks, while air bubbles gurgled to the surface. “If you want speed, you need to be on top of the water, but for comfort, the best place is always down below.”
Dr. Smyth smiled. There was mischief in her eyes, and her rosebud like mouth teased him. “There are no waves to contend with?”
“Exactly.”
Ursula took on water, and began to sink quickly.
It would take just seventy-five minutes to reach the seabed a little less than seven miles from the surface. The submarine descended fast, but there was little to show for their progression. By maintaining an internal pressure of one atmosphere throughout the entire dive, and with very little marine life or visual cues, there was no sense of altered depth.
At a thousand feet, Sam depressed the mike and said, “Ursula to Tahila, we’ve reached a thousand feet. Please confirm communication’s cable is intact?”
“We’re reading you five out of five, Sam,” Matthew acknowledged. “Stay safe.”
Major Marazzato tapped Sam on the shoulder. “I didn’t realize you had communications this far down… something about water being a poor conductor of sound waves.”
Sam grinned. “Actually, it’s a great conductor. The real problem with underwater communication is that because of the increased conductivity, it will tend to disperse the wave and attenuate the signal that gets through.”
The Major frowned. “So then, how are you communicating with the surface ship?”
“We’re attached to a communications umbilical cord, tethered to Tahila. That way, people topside can keep us up to date if there are any drastic changes to the weather, we can keep an open coms line, and also they will be able to receive a direct video and audio feed from the submarine.”
Major Marazzato’s brow furrowed. Sam watched the man shift uncomfortably in his seat. “They’re streaming a direct video feed of everything we can see?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, his tone intentionally cheerful. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No problem.”
Sam scanned the array of digital gauges. They passed the 3,000 foot depth mark, entering the aphotic midnight zone, in which sunlight no longer penetrated, and the view from the borosilicate dome was now bathed in darkness.
He flicked another switch and two powerful LED lights came on, revealing very little in the way of marine life outside. Confident there was nothing to be seen until they neared the seabed miles below, Sam switched the lights off to conserve the energy they used.
Sam said, “Okay, if you want a rest, now’s your time to take it. There won’t be anything to see for the next hour. Next stop, the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Major James Marazzato sat back uncomfortably in his allotted seat toward the portside of the tiny submersible. At six foot three he was by far too tall to be at ease in the craft. He was just thankful that he had chosen a profession that seldom required him to descend in an elongated coffin.
For the first twenty minutes he attempted to see out.
The marine life was fairly sparse after they had passed the first five hundred feet, in which swarms of flying fish could be seen. Below that there was little to see. When they reached three thousand feet Sam turned on the outer lights, but the view didn’t particularly improve.
When Marazzato looked out, all he could see was the constant movement of water over the submersible, then after a time it was hard to imagine that it was even moving at all.
“Okay gents, I’m switching external lights off to conserve energy.” He heard Sam Reilly’s automatic notes.
Marazzato tried to get some sleep. He would need to conserve his energy for the time spent on the bottom of the Mariana Trench.
As a nuclear weapons expert, he was the only one on board who knew what to look for once they reached the bottom.
Marazzato was also the only person on board who had very specific instructions from the Pentagon on what was to be done if nuclear waste was identified.