Still I heard his fans roar louder cavitating the water with bubbles as I jerked back on my joystick forming a tandem backward force. I softly cheered when the manipulators stretched taut with tension and held the aft frame firmly in their grasps.
Then looking to port at the submarine hull, worrying that we might back into it, I noticed that it appeared to be very gradually moving forward but it couldn’t be: it was grounded. We were backing up!
“Woo-wee!” Bowman yelled, “Keep on pulling, Matt. You’re breaking us free!”
“C’mon, SeaPod you can do it,” Briscoe shouted patting the console, “Your motors aren’t even smoking yet.”
Since I had no view of anything but the aft of Bowman’s pod I couldn’t tell if we were really moving until the huge sub’s hull gradually dropped down and disappeared below us.
“How’s your power, Dave? Clocks running forward?”
“Yes. Thanks to you, Matt. Everything’s fine but we still have quite a bit of smoke in the cockpit. The particulate scrubbers should quickly fix that.”
“Breaking off then. Thank you for the dance,” I said with a smile. “See you back in the dome.”
With that, I released the pincers and curled the arms into their cradles then headed back to the bay.
Chapter 21. Voices
Silkwood, sitting anxiously with us in the SeaPod waiting for the bay to drain down, scanned his eyes across the room and stopped them on the Exosuits.
“What are those robot-looking things over there?”
“Atmospheric diving suits… Exosuits we call them,” Briscoe replied. “They’re basically one-man submarines.”
“Can anyone use them?”
“Yes. But first I would recommend some training from me and permission from Dr. Bowman. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
The Chief tilted his head. “Why would you ask?”
“Mr. Briscoe, a cursory glance at an object which challenges the laws of physics is not in the cards for me. Like Mr. Cross, I cannot give up and leave it behind until I have interacted with it, understood its origin, and grasped its capabilities. And, as much of my research work involves directed energy weapons I see a shortcut here for a new realm of superweapon. I need to go back out in an Exosuit and examine the object in more detail. Only then can I even attempt to help your situation here.”
“But you’ll die, Dr. Silkwood,” I said.
“Has it directly killed anyone here yet?”
I had to think before I answered.
“No. But it has indirectly caused the deaths of many including those souls out there in the submarine with the ruptured hull.”
“Aha! So it’s really the depth’s pressure that’s killing them, not the object?”
“Well, yes. But if you approach it too close your suit will lose power and you’ll most assuredly join the casualties around it. You will then die as they did as a result of its influence on your suit’s failing technology.”
“So as I understand it the problem lies in my not being able to retreat from the object once I near it. Is that true?”
“Basically yes. Then you’ll suffocate within minutes as your suit powers down from the object’s drain.”
“Well I wouldn’t consider asking anyone to accompany me directly to the site as did you, Mr. Cross, but there are other means of remote rescue if that were to happen.”
“Like what?” I answered pissed at his accusation.
“Like a rope. Tied around the waist of my suit. Leading to a suited rescuer standing many meters away or waiting in a SeaPod to pull me from harm. Can someone do that for me?”
“Well you’ll have to ask Dr. Bowman and if he agrees I’ll do it. Not for the weapons aspect but for saving the station.”
“Fair enough,” he said, “Let’s go up and meet with him. I also need to report in with Admiral Franklin.”
Entering the mess, we found the remaining station staff sitting with coffee, some with food. at long tables quietly talking among themselves. I knew they were primed to leave the site in a few hours and were awaiting the status of our delayed departure.
Dave, sporting a broad smile, saw us walk in and waved us over to his small table of six with three chairs standing empty.
“Ah there are the heroes,” he said rising as we neared. “Please sit with us and accept our appreciation for your bravery. Thought we were goners.”
As we took the vacant chairs, Briscoe spoke up.
“We thought we were going down the same route but thanks to Marker’s dumping that load ballast we broke loose. It was easier the second time around with your SeaPod with both of us pulling.”
“So you had to do that twice? Once for you and again for us? That must have been quite a scare for you guys.”
He pointed at Silkwood. “It was, but not so much for one passenger; he wants to go back out in an Exosuit on a lifesaver tether. Get up close and personal with it.”
Bowman glanced at Silkwood.
“Is that true? That’s never been done.”
“Yes, Dr. Bowman, I’ve seen an object that shouldn’t exist and I’ve seen time run backward. Now I have to return and understand how and why it exists. That’s just the nature of my business.”
He paused then concluded, “But I want a tether. Something to pull me free if I encounter a problem. All I’ll need is a rope long enough for my partner to distance the object’s fury.”
From the end of the table, Franklin joined in.
“I see no problem with that, Jonas. That’s why I brought you down here. To examine and explain the inexplicable. It’s all yours and I’m sure Dr. Bowman can easily provide your tethering request with a long rope. Have at it and summarize your findings when you return. Just be careful.”
Sitting beside him, Williams with her hand to her head, looked up at Silkwood.
“We do have one extended-life Exosuit. Has an additional battery pack for longer diving times. We can suit him up in that one. It’ll give him more close-in time before he loses power.”
“Excellent Lieutenant. I’ll take it,” Silkwood responded.
Briscoe sighed and murmured under his breath.
“Here we go again, Marker. You gonna buddy him out?”
“Only if you’ll get me a coffee, Chief.”
“You’re too easy, Marker,” he chuckled. Rising from his chair, he looked over the table and asked, “Anyone else need coffee? Dr. Silkwood?”
“No thank you, Mr. Briscoe. I prefer tea. Hot tea. No cream or sugar.”
“I’ll see if I can brew some up for you. We have hot water and we have tea. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
Minutes later, returning with three cups in a carrier he placed it on the table and stared at it as if something was wrong.
“Forget the tea, Chief?”
He glanced over at me then back at the carrier.
“See anything strange, Marker?”
I stared for a few seconds and counted two dark coffees and one lighter cup.
“No, Chief. Did you forget the creamer?”
He scoffed and sighed.
“I know as well as you do that neither of us uses creamer… and you use two sugars. This one’s yours.”
“Thank you,” I answered taking my cup. Then staring at the other cups, I noticed what he was worried about: the liquid in them was not level.
“What? Is the table tilted?” I asked tilting the carrier to level the cups. “It’s about two degrees off level I’d say.”
Backing off he looked across the mess hall. Then he turned ninety degrees and looked again.
“It’s not the table or the cupholder. The station is listing a few degrees to starboard.”
Bowman in a side conversation with Williams keyed on the word and eyed Briscoe.
“Listing?” he repeated. “That’s not possible. Ivy keeps the station level within a tenth of a degree with servo-controlled levelers in the wheels.”