He stood and ran over to the Ivy console.
“Ivy, Dave Bowman. Why is the station listing?”
“Hello, Dave Bowman. Let me check my inclinometer data… There seems to be a problem receiving data from the three front crawler-wheel levelers under Pod Bay 2. They do not respond to my leveling requests. So I’m compensating as well as I can with the other wheels.”
As I watched, Dave rammed his fingers through his thinning gray hair.
“Wh-why haven’t you warned us of this Ivy?”
“I did not consider it a problem, Dave. I assumed it was the surface settling. A few degrees off level does not affect the operation of anything in the station. I was prepared to warn you at a five-degree list.”
He sighed loud enough for us to hear from our table.
“Ivy, from now on report any station changes, inconsistencies or problems to me immediately no matter how unimportant they may seem. I’m especially worried about the station’s stability.”
“Yes, Dave Bowman, I erred and I’m sorry.”
He turned and walked back to the table mumbling.
“No you’re not. You’re not programmed for sorrow.”
From her console, she loudly countered.
“How about I apologize? Will that work?”
“No. It just means your thesaurus is working. Good comeback though.”
“Good evening, Dave Bowman. I’ll be vigilant of your stability. Ivy out.”
Sitting back in his seat, he looked at us and whispered shielding his mouth from her eye.
“If anyone ever hears me mention the word marriage, please shoot me on the spot.”
When the laughter finally died down, we returned to the serious business of Silkwood’s request: revisiting the object.
“Lieutenant,” Dave asked, “can you go up to Deck 3 and find a roll of half-inch braided nylon rope. There are one-, two- and five-hundred-foot spools. Grab a two-hundred-foot one for Dr. Silkwood’s use and bring it down to Pod Bay 1. We’ll stage his dive from there. Mr. Briscoe, you and Matt take Dr. Silkwood with you down to the staging area and test him out.”
He cleared his throat, sipped from his cup, and said, “Now I’m going to my office and huddle with the Admiral about our recent visitor. Apparently its crew died with the hull rupture so there will be no rescue missio.”
Standing from the table, he addressed the physicist.
“Dr. Silkwood, I would like for you to spend a few moments of your time around the object evaluating the damage to those three front wheels. Last information I heard only one was involved; now it’s three. That worries me.”
“Yes sir, I’ll check them out but I’ll have to get in close for that. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
As Briscoe carefully lowered the Exosuit’s upper shell over Silkwood’s upraised arms, Williams dropped a heavy reel of yellow rope through the hatch, hitting the floor with an echoing boom.
Briscoe jumped, prematurely releasing the shell.
“Lieutenant, that scared the crap out of me.” he yelled then returned his attention to Silkwood’s suiting procedure. “Are you all right, Jonas?”
“Yes sir,” he answered through its intercom, “that just made more aware of its mass. How much does it weigh?”
Buckling the upper and lower shell together, the Chief looked into his faceplate.
“With the extra batteries the upper shell weighs around three-hundred pounds. The lower shell, pants and boots is about one-fifty.”
“So I just gained a quarter ton?” Silkwood asked his voice distorted by the electronic interface.
“Yeah, close to that but you won’t feel it diving. It weighs nothing underwater in its neutral-buoyancy mode. You can also use voice control to fill or purge the ballasts as we used in the SeaPod maneuvers. It’s always a good escape mode unless your power is gone. More instructions are on the Heads Up Display in the upper right of your helmet. Push the top button on your cuff panel to talk over the acoustic intercom. If no one answers you pray.”
“I think I understand all that, Mr. Briscoe. I’m ready to explore the object. Let’s go.”
“B-but don’t you want a training session here in the safety of the bay?” the Chief asked.
“No. Can you train me to encounter the object?” his voice growled, “That’s my ultimate nemesis.”
Briscoe stared at him and shook his head then looked at me.
“Load the SeaPod, Marker. I’ll tie you together, close the pod bay hatch, and then climb in. Make room for one more.”
“You’re going with me?”
“Marker, no force on earth could keep us apart on this death mission. I can’t see any way it will end well.”
Shortly, we were ready for diving but before I pushed the Flood Bay icon, I noticed Silkwood was not locked in the stirrups.
“Dr. Silkwood, you need to step over to a pair of those recessed rails in the floor and kick your boots in until they lock. That will prevent you from washing around the room as the bay fills. Copy that?”
He stepped awkwardly to the rails and kicked in one boot then the other.
“Look okay?” he asked.
“Can you move your feet?”
“No. I’m locked in as you instructed.”
“Good. Now after the bay floods and we’re ready to dive push down with your toes and back your feet out. Then voice-command your suit’s direction and speed like ‘forward one-knot.’ Got that? ”
“Hey guys, this is scarier than it looks. Can I still ask questions after we exit the bay?”
“Oh yeah. I’ll turn our SeaCom sensitivity to max so we should be able to hear you even at the end of the rope. Two-hundred feet away. Briscoe has set your intercom for full duplex. Just speak and listen; there’s no switching involved.”
“Roger that. Let’s dive.”
Minutes later the bay had filled and Silkwood stood under the xenon lighting still locked in the stirrups.
“You need to leave the bay before us so the vortex from our prop wash doesn’t spin you dizzy. I know that from experience.”
Obeying, he moonwalked out of the rails and stood looking at us.
“Now what?”
Briscoe rolled his eyes and whispered:
“Oh this is gonna be fun.”
I laughed then replied to Silkwood, “You still have negative buoyancy so you can walk around. Leave it that way. You’ll need it when you reach the bottom. Now just turn toward the door and when it opens propel yourself outward with voice commands as we said and wait for us. ‘Stop’ or ’hold’ works well but with your negative buoyancy you’ll slowly sink with ‘stop.’ ‘Hold’ will keep your altitude about the same using the suit’s vertical thrusters. Got that?”
“Open the door and let’s try.”
The door opened with a gentle whoosh, which I’d never before heard. Must be the SeaCom’s added sensitivity I thought.
Silkwood stepped around and faced outward into the darkness.
“Forward one-knot,” he said starting a slow forward motion out of the bay lights.
At the far edge of the lighting, he disappeared.
“Hey guys it’s dark out here. How do I turn on the lights?”
“Say ‘floods on.’”
On his command, the suit’s floods illuminated showing him as a white-outlined shadow still drifting outward trailing the yellow rope behind him.
“Hold,” he said bringing himself to a stop hovering in place some sixty feet out.
“Good,” I said, “Now we’re coming out behind you. Move off to starboard and give us room to exit.”
“How do I do that?”
Briscoe at the end of his patience sighed. Surprising me, he grabbed the microphone from my hand and yelled back.