I had to look twice when I saw the Chief in his Exosuit still riding the whale-ship with his legs clamped tightly into side fin ridges and his pincers gripping the manipulator arm like a saddle horn.
“Yee-haw!” he wailed as he hung precariously on its back. “Whale-ship rodeo time.”
I had to cover the microphone to keep him from hearing my laugh but I knew he had been in worse situations and never flinched. At worst, he would float off the back and settle gently to the floor.
“Sorry Chief,” I said. “I accidentally bumped the reverse thrusters.”
“And I accidentally blew my suit’s ballasts, Marker. Take me back to Pod Bay 2 and open the door. Let’s get this fish into a bucket. This will be one whale of a story.”
As we slowly approached the door, traveling at the pod’s minimum speed, I suddenly realized I didn’t know how to open the closed Pod Bay door from the outside. At our current rate and momentum, we would crash through it in seconds.
Thinking back to our arrival, I remembered the answer just as the intercom crackled Ivy’s voice.
“SeaPod 1, you and your cargo are on course for a perfect docking into Pod Bay 2. Reduce speed to one-quarter knot. Careful with clearances.”
Miraculously the door pivoted upward just in time revealing the welcoming bay lights.
Carefully maneuvering my precious cargo toward the opening, I saw the Chief lean over against the whale-ship’s body and hug it trying to reduce the payload’s height.
“Keep low, Chief. Don’t want to knock you off.”
“Roger that, Marker. Get this damn fish docked.”
Very slowly I slid the whale-ship into the bay and readied the arms for release.”
“Hop off, Chief. I’m going to drop it.”
I watched as he flooded his suit’s ballast and released his grip on the manipulators. Sliding gently off the ship he propelled himself past me out into the darkness and called back.
“Clear of the bay, Marker. Drop it and let’s get back to Pod Bay 1.”
“Ivy, please close the Pod Bay 2 door,” I said after releasing the cargo and backing out of the bay.
Once I confirmed that it had closed, I joined the Chief still hovering in the distance well above the docking bay.
“How’s your HUD clock running?” I asked.
“Forward. That’s why I’m up here out of harm’s way.”
“Good. Our fishing trip is over… and we caught a whopper. You ready for some wake-me-up juice?”
“More like warm-me-up juice but yes I’d love a cup. My treat.”
Chef Saunders welcomed us to his mess standing at the rear of the kitchen blocking us from the door to his pantry.
“Welcome back, divers,” he said. “Thank you for not using my bay this time. I’m afraid those cookie crumbs on that pallet that were once perfectly formed cookies will turn back into flour with your next dive.
“Got any coffee?” Briscoe laughed.
“Sure, Trooper Briscoe. Always on tap. Grab your cups and partake please. Oh, and I made you a fresh batch of donuts too.”
Dropping his eyebrows Briscoe darted his attention to Saunders.
“How do you know that? I mean it’s true but how do you know?”
“It’s simple really. I overheard you and Mr. Cross talking yesterday when you mentioned the CHP. I put that together with your love of donuts and took a wild guess. Then I made you more donuts as my appreciation for all the work you guys are doing around here. I already feel safer. Plus I needed to use those cookie crumbs for something so I made donuts.”
The mess clock read 0330 hours as we wiped the sugar from our faces and finished our coffee.
“What next?” the Chief asked leaning back in his chair looking over the empty mess hall.
“Just wait something will come along. Soon I imagine.”
Within seconds, Ivy’s voice boomed over the mess hall’s speakers, “ODF please report to Pod Bay 2.”
“I knew it,” I said, “That’s us. Bowman must have found the whale-ship. I wonder what he thinks.”
“Let’s go find out.”
Chapter 16. The Dragon Returns
Dropping down the ladder into Pod Bay 2, we saw Bowman, standing beside Williams and Yung Ching, looking into the whale-ship’s cockpit. They were abuzz about something but we couldn’t tell about what.
Ignoring our intrusion, they continued their discussion as Williams spoke.
“…but look at his Tang Zhuang jacket with that gold embroidered dragon. And he shaved his Fu-Manchu moustache. He looks less menacing, milder now in death than in life.”
“Went incognito I guess,” replied Ching. “He used to resemble Christopher Lee but without that ‘stache he looks more like Bruce Lee.”
“You’re right. In death he’s now the Dragon,” Williams interjected sorrowfully.
I knew something was up seeing their familiarity with the dead pilots so I interrupted.
“What’s going on guys? Who are you talking about?”
“Lt. Commander Dan Li,” Bowman answered. “That’s him on the right. In the dragon jacket. He’s one of the pilots — the interpreter that went missing when we found his empty Exosuit. Remember?”
“Oh yeah, but what does that mean? He’s a mole?” I asked seeing the whole security scenario change before my eyes.
“I’m afraid so, Matt,” Bowman answered. “Or at least that’s the way it appears until we get more information.” He turned back looking around the bay searching.
“Can we get into its damn hatch with something? Anybody have a crowbar?”
Williams knocked on the rubber hull returning a dull thud.
“I don’t think so, Dr. Bowman. This ship’s sealed up tight. Probably take more than we have to open it. Might as well launch it out to sea and explode it.”
“Wait a minute guys,” I said, “I have an idea.”
Briscoe rolled his eyes.
“Here we go again. Another one of Marker’s hair-brained ideas. Get ready folks.”
Ignoring Briscoe’s sarcasm Bowman stared at me for moments before speaking.
“What do you need, Matt? I’m game. I’ve always trusted your intuition.”
“I assume the hull’s resistant to the pressures of this depth,” I said, “so it will take almost a ton per square inch to break it open. But… it’s a different story if we apply the pressure from the inside. Now I’m going MacGyver on you so listen closely. I need a half-inch threaded hollow pipe about four or five inches long, an electric drill with a long half-inch bit, a pair of vice grips and a high-pressure air tank and hose. That’s all.”
Within fifteen minutes Bowman had gathered the parts for me awaiting my use. After chucking the bit into the drill I put a half-inch hole through the heavy Plexiglas bubble, which I estimated to be six-inches thick, threaded the pipe into the hole until it was tight, then attached the hose to it and opened the air tank’s valve. Everyone stood immobile, apprehensive as air hissed into the sealed cabin.
“Stand back,” I said, “That front cap’s going to pop off at any minute.”
In the middle of the Chief’s cynical laughing there was a loud boom when the bubble blew several feet across the floor and then rocked like a dropped salad bowl for minutes.
“Wow!” Bowman exclaimed. “That was really thinking outside of the box, Matt. I’ll have to remember that. I always look at pressure as a foe but never thought of using it as a friend. Well done my friend.”
“Well your hydraulic elevators made me think that way, Dave. You’re already using it as a friend you just don’t realize it.”
Nodding, Bowman turned to the open cockpit, ducked, and cautiously entered avoiding the three dead pilots.