“See? I told you he couldn’t be a spy. He was a captive.”
Bowman listened and closed his eyes for a few moments ignoring the three photographs loading on his computer’s screen.
“I’m truly sorry I rushed to judgment, Yung, but it appeared he was in cahoots with the pilots. He still could be and those words may be meant to deceive us if found. Disinformation it’s called. We use it often in our communications with headquarters.”
He glanced back at his screen typed some text into his keyboard and then emphatically hit a key.
“There! We’ll see what their database says about these interlopers.”
Directing his attention back to Ching he asked, “Anything else interesting. Does it mention the name of the mother ship?”
Ching studied further turning rapidly through the pages. At a page near the front, he stopped and began to read.
“Here’s something: ‘Left the ship from the submerged docking bay with Fook Yoo and headed back to the dome.’”
He glanced up at us with drying eyes.
“They must be talking about a moon pool or floodable bay.”
Now less distraught he continued his translation.
“‘Neared the dome with our echolocation simulator chirping and found a crashed empty mini-sub twisted in the wheels of the dome. Cut bubble loose with torch and tried to catch it before it drifted up and away with the current. Currents were too fast to capture. Retreated to home ship.’”
Captivated with Ching’s interpretation Bowman scoffed, “Of course they wouldn’t name their home ship. Too risky if they got caught. But that explains a lot. Now we know what happened to Edwards’ SeaPod. Still don’t know what became of him though.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, Dr. Bowman, he’s probably fish food,” Williams said factually. “We all know of the dangers out there and most of us don’t hot rod around by ourselves for that reason. He was just careless plus he encountered the monopole.”
Ching flinched and looked up at her from the logbook.
“I was told to avoid that when we retrieved the cable tap. What is it anyway? Sounds like the name of a theoretical object I once studied in a physics class. But it can’t exist in reality.”
“You’re right, Yung, it can’t but that’s what Mr. Briscoe named it and it’s stuck for lack of a better name,” Bowman offered.
“But a monopole can’t exist,” Ching argued, “like a Yin without a Yang; a shadow without light, it’s an impossibility.”
I thought, rolling the dilemma over in my mind.
“That’s just what we called it, Yung. It is an inexplicable object. Just PFM. Sucks energy out of everything near it. Almost seems as if it’s acting like a neutron star drawing in energy and growing into a black hole. A black hole seed. But it’s bright now and getting brighter.”
Bowman squinted and shook off the notion.
“Well, whatever it is I think I should report it to headquarters. Could be something that fell off a cargo or research ship. They’ll surely be looking for it with its unusual characteristics.”
Ching continued to read through the logbook, apparently finding no other information related to the mysteries, but he did find and pause on their assessment of our mission.
“Seems like they are convinced that we’re only measuring radiation,” he said. “They suspected that we might have tapped into a communications cable but found no evidence of that. From what it says here they’ve been tracking our actions for only a few weeks. That’s when all the weird things started happening around the station.”
Bowman exhaled and smiled turning to Williams.
“Well that’s comforting to know. I was afraid our operation had been compromised but your cable intercept divers, Lt. Williams, have been the best there are in your covert cable connection work. Thanks to you and your divers we’re still a radiation monitoring station in the eyes of the world.”
He then turned to me and glanced between us.
“Now I must commend both of you for your excellent exploratory work with our strange occurrences. They now seem to be contained so we can move on with our operations and pull anchor later this evening. We are set—”
“Dr. Bowman, you have a live transmission arriving from headquarters,” Ivy interrupted from her small console on his desk. “Caller has set message security to Umbra ZX, scrambler level to Black. Would you like to take the call? Your office guests are all cleared for the information.”
Bowman turned to her console.
“Yes Ivy. Please put the caller through to my desk console on speakerphone.”
“Connecting…”
A few clicks and buzzes preceded the scrambler-distorted voice roaring deeply, resonating through the room.
“Hello Dave? Admiral John Franklin here at SSU headquarters. I just received your images and ran them through our international database of suspected foreign intelligence agents. Two of them hit immediately. The one on the left Xi Jin is a Chinese national working for the MSS, the Ministry of State Security out of Beijing. According to our passport records he is currently still in China. The middle photograph is of another Chinese national Ming Tse Tao who has visited the U.S. on temporary B1 visas numerous times negotiating for various China-US or CHUS transpacific cable repair contracts. We suspect him of counterintelligence activities during those trips. Finally, the third image on the right is of U.S. Navy Lt. Commander Dan Li, honor graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy in 2012 and according to our records Dave he is now serving as a crewman on Sea Station Umbra. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Admiral, that is correct.”
“May I ask how you came by these photographs, Dr. Bowman? The men all look deceased”
“Yes sir, that is also correct. They are deceased.”
“Then please explain why I’m holding the photographs of three dead men: one a USNA honor graduate and the other two known foreign spies”
“Well, Admiral, it’s a long story.”
“I have plenty of time. Try me.”
“A few hours ago a Chinese mini-sub disguised as a sperm whale calf crashed into the station’s base. It did little harm to Discovery One but killed the three occupants of the whale-ship. Those are the men in the pictures. We suspect Li was taken captive on a service dive and used as a guide for their subversive activities against us.”
“Wait. Whale-ship? Why did it crash? Was it a suicide mission?”
“No, Admiral, we don’t think so. It went down under the control of a strange monopole object on the ocean floor near Pod Bay 2 and lost power suffocating the men inside. The whale-ship is still intact minus the cockpit bubble but it can be reattached.”
Admiral Franklin took a moment to reply.
“Dave, you do realize your story sounds rather fantastical don’t you? Have you checked your station’s air supply for impurities? Like cannabis? Or maybe your drinking water for hallucinogens?”
“N-No, Admiral, it’s all true. Some very weird things are happening down here in addition to the Chinese espionage attempts. We’ve already lost our ROV and Edwards’ SeaPod to its power. All collecting down there around the monopole. Our clocks tick backward around it and it’s getting stronger by the hour.”
Again a pause.
“Hold a minute, Bowman. I need to check something.”
“Sure, Admiral, I’ll be here.”
Bowman’s description of our situation sounded as incredulous to me as the Admiral had suggested but it was really happening. I wanted to comment in Bowman’s defense but then Franklin might think we were all batty.
Chapter 17. Code Deep Black