“You would be quite surprised at my intercept resources, Matt Cross.”
“Well thank you, Ivy. That comforted me somewhat,” I said worried at the trembling in Lindy’s voice at the end of her conversation.
“Oh, Matt Cross,” Ivy said as I turned to leave, “I previously printed an ID badge for you and Mica Briscoe. Please wear them at all times on station to insure your identity. I see that neither of you is wearing one.”
“Understood Ivy. Mine’s in my kitbag; I’ll put it on immediately. I’ll tell Briscoe to wear his too.”
“Thank you, Matt Cross. Ivy out.”
Back at the table I found the Lieutenant’s instruction continuing. I sat, pulled the ID from my kitbag and clipped it to my drying wetsuit’s collar, then nodded for Briscoe to do the same.
Although I was interested in learning everything about my new residence and its wonders, I could hardly keep my eyes open and my wetsuit was beginning to bother me. I needed sleep, dry clothes, and another cup of coffee. Luckily, I had just refilled it while talking with Ivy.
“The station operates in three eight-hour shifts,” she continued, “graveyard, early, and late. That’s 0000 hours to 0800 hours for graveyard, 0800 to 1600 hours for early, and 1600 to 2400 hours for late. Now since you’re both on non-essential duty and you need to interact with all the personnel you can work whenever you want. Because there’s no day or night down here we work around the clock but we keep the first and second team separated. And their shifts will vary depending on task urgency.”
She looked around lowered her voice and continued:
“The first team is concerned with the A-mission of radiation monitoring while the second’s concern is the signal intercept Z-mission. Got that? You can tell which team you’re interacting with by looking at their ID badges. The A-team has a small notch cut from the right corner of the badge while the Z team has a full top margin. Almost undetectable for the unknowing it’s there if you look closely. Now a crucial warning: never refer to anything Z unless you’re in the walk-in vault in Quadrant 4. I shouldn’t be telling you this here but I know this week’s graveyard shift includes only Z staff so we’re secure here. You’ll learn more about that over time but consider that information under your clearance Umbra Z.”
“What about Ivy? She can probably hear,” I asked remembering she was just over my shoulder.
“She’s cleared way above everything on this station so no worries. Just be careful because she can tell if you’re discussing Z-information with A-cleared staff. That’s a no-no and you’ll be quickly flagged with a security violation isn’t that right Ivy?”
From the wall, she answered:
“Correct, Susan Williams, and you’re correct there are no A staff in your vicinity at this time but you should be in the vault for this conversation. Minor violation but good test.”
She backed her chair from the table, stood and looked at us.
“You guys done with coffee?”
We nodded together and stood. I dreaded the thought of more touring and fortunately, she must have read my mind.
“Let’s save the rest of the tour for later today after you catch some Z’s. I know you both must be exhausted so why don’t you head off to your quarters and hit it. There’s no reveille in the station so don’t worry about being awakened by a bugle or ship’s 1MC or anything like that. Just tell Ivy your desired wake up time and she’ll awaken you pleasantly.”
Turning to leave with Briscoe, I spun back.
“Wait, where are our quarters?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot. The time must be getting to me too. Follow me and I’ll show you.”
She wound us around unused workstations to the front of the room then through the convex bulkhead door into the core chamber. There a cylindrical elevator awaited us its curved door open.
“Please push Deck 2,” she said nodding to the Chief.
The door slid shut and swiftly we rose, sucked up like a money carrier in a bank’s pneumatic tube. The Deck 2 light illuminated immediately followed by the whishing of the opening door.
“Pneumatic elevator huh?” Briscoe said.
“No. Hydraulic elevator,” she answered, “Uses external water pressure to push it up and down. Another Bowman invention.”
“Of course,” I said rolling my eyes.
Through the elevator’s open door, she led us around a circular hallway I estimated to be ten feet wide, its inner wall surrounding the core chamber. Above each outer wall door (I counted seventeen) was a crewman’s name, his rank and military affiliation except for the last six. All affiliations were U.S. Navy except three: J. David Bowman — PhD, DV#1 and DV#2. Three more door titles extended down the hall beyond those: Head 1, Head 2 and Rec Hall. These last six must be suites I thought: they’re twice the width of the others. Must be my lucky day.
“Pick your poison,” she smiled returning us to the Distinguished Visitor rooms. Then pointing past them she added, “There are unisex heads down there so knock before entering and use the Rec Hall freely when you need a break, coffee, or snacks.”
I hated when the Chief and I had to choose between anything. I always deferred to him and he always threw it back to me usually winning.
“You take DV#1,” I said, “You’re older and wiser. Suits you better.”
Snickering he bantered, “No, Marker you just want to be nearer the bathrooms. If I am older and wiser as you said then I need to be closer to the bathrooms. Admit it.”
Agreeing I pushed open the door to DV#1 and glanced inside.
Briscoe did the same with DV#2 and exclaimed, “Wow there’s a lotta room in here, but it’s kinda like a wacky-house bowling alley.”
“You should see mine,” Williams said. “It’s not one of these suites but it’s really quite comfortable. They do take a little getting used to but they grow on you especially with the rocking of the deep-water currents at night.”
She turned to leave and looked back.
“Oh, you’ll find a dresser with a stock of one-size-fits-most jumpsuits, shirts, socks, underwear and as for shoes we recommend always wearing dive boots because the decks are often slippery. Ivy is on the wall at the head of your bunks; you can’t miss her glowing eye. So good night, gentlemen. See you around 1000 hours in the Mess on Deck 1. Okay?”
We both poked out our heads from our rooms and watched her walk to her room six doors down shaking her head.
As her door closed, I looked back at him. “I gotta hit the head before I bed down, Chief. See you in the morning.”
“Number one or number two?” he asked.
“Hey, Chief, that’s none of your business,” I answered, wondering why he’d even ask.
Snickering he answered, “No dummy I meant head number one or two. I’ll use the other one.”
“Oh,” I laughed, “I’ll take one you take two.”
“Roger that, Marker. Right behind you. Too much coffee. I’ll be rising around nine; still not comfortable with going back on military time.”
“But you’ll get used to it,” I added, chuckling down the hall.
Not long after that I returned and settled into my pie-slice of a room. It was eight feet across at the door thirty feet deep and the far wall, I stepped off at about twenty feet across. After confirming my measurements, Ivy assured me that everything was okay in the station and that the incident with Li was just an anomaly caused by human error. It appeared that we might be going home early.
Sleep soon overtook my curiosity ending my day… then from outside a loud booming thunderclap and rumbling shook me from my bunk.
Chapter 10. The Midnight Zone