As she ended her message, Dave sat down at the driver’s console and powered up the tractor controllers. A small bank of indicators illuminated one at a time starting with #5 and blinked green through #20. At the end of the sequencing process lights #1 through #4 flashed red.
“What’s that all mean, Dave,” I asked watching over his shoulder.
“Those red-flagged wheels failed the self-test but I can override them manually ̶ take them out of the loop. We’ll run on sixteen. Not a problem though: we can run with five on each side if we have to.”
Reaching up, he touched four buttons under the red indicators turning them dark.
“Done. No more problems.”
Scoffing, the Chief whispered in my ear, “Famous last words.”
On my other side, Lieutenant Williams also engrossed with Bowman’s start-up procedure flinched.
“Oh crap! The hatch. I forgot to close it.”
She turned back and rushed up the ladder. Seconds later, I heard the hatch slam closed with a solid clunk that echoed through the bridge.
“Fast work,” I said on her return. “That would have taken me twice as long and I’d be huffing and puffing. You? You’re not even winded. How do you do that?”
She backed off and looked me over.
“If you spent six months on this station rushing up and down these ladders all day long like I do, you’d be fast too. Just comes with the job I guess.”
Nodding in agreement then looking back at Bowman I saw he had activated the bridge’s forward floods and was studying a large map lying on the console.
“Got the CHUS intercept coordinates I sent down, Dr. Bowman?” asked Franklin.
“Yep, looking at them right now. Thanks.”
“See any problems?”
“Nothing unusual. The usual hills and valleys and a seamount we have to bypass. No canyons or abysses. Smooth riding all the way. I see no problem with the scheduled arrival ti—”
Interrupting him Ivy announced a message.
“Dave Bowman the ten-minute delay has expired, You may proceed when ready.”
He turned back to her panel and commanded her.
“Pull the anchor, Ivy. Inform me when it’s secure.”
The result of his command was a deep rumbling banging from below the floor at the rear of the bridge. It sounded like a slow motion clunk-clunk-clunk as the anchor’s chain rolled into its reel wherever that was. I expected something more elegant than a standard bulky anchor chain but then I realized they always worked. Then the sounds stopped.
“The anchor is secure. Start motion when ready. All systems, hatches, and decks show go,” Ivy said.
“May I ask a question before you start?” Franklin said placing his hand on Bowman’s shoulder.
“Sure Admiral. Shoot.” He dropped his hands from the joysticks and looked back at him.
“Which way do you plan to drive out? Forward or Reverse?”
“Well I normally drive out forward unless there’s an obstruction. See a problem with that? Anyone?”
Pointing down toward the ominous starboard glow, Franklin responded, “Only that you’re going to run six perfectly good wheels over the debris collecting around that monopole down there including what’s left of the old wheels and the ROV.”
“Good point Admiral. Reverse it shall be. Everyone please take a place in the surrounding seats and harness up. This may get tricky.”
I sat, then Briscoe and Williams, in a row of seating behind him. Finally, Franklin sat in the copilot’s seat beside him. Four harness clicks signaled him to start.
“Wish me luck,” he said firmly grasping the twin joysticks in his hands.
Loud vibrating harmonizing hums arose from the bridge’s exterior telling me that he was moving, activating the huge motors but with such precision I couldn’t see which direction. Then I felt a comforting backward lurch. The calming feeling lasted only a second until I felt something else like balancing on a teeter-totter nearing the tipping point. Then all at once, we tilted more. The front starboard side plunged at least five feet down to the surface throwing up silt and mud over the windows. The right edge of the forward window looked down into an eerie glowing blue-black bulls-eye.
“Holy shit!” Bowman yelled as pencils, clipboards, screwdrivers and other things flew down to the floor then scraped noisily across it into the corner and settled in the growing puddle of water under the window.
“What the hell just happened?” he shouted.
“We’ve tilted our starboard hull down on the monopole. It’s got a grasp on us. Can you move forward?” Franklin yelled.
Bowman shoved both joysticks forward creating a collection of sounds. Some motors were grinding some were growling and others were whining at full speed.
“We’re raised off the aft wheels off the surface like a tripod,” shouted Franklin. “Nothing’s going to gain traction with our tilt. Can you go back? Get all the wheels back on the ground?”
“Don’t know. I’ll try,” he panted.
From my seat behind him, I saw Dave was in trouble as he flashed his hands between the joysticks and his forehead wiping sweat from his eyes. I wanted to help but there was nothing I could do.
“C’mon, Dave, you’ve got this,” I said. “Take your time and think it out.”
Releasing the sticks, he silenced the motors. Then delicately he pulled the joysticks toward him starting different sounds: ones of distorted hums and growls but still creating no movement.. Then one-by-one the green lights over wheels #5 through #20 flickered and flashed to red.
“They’ve failed! The motors are gone,” he shouted lowering his head in obvious defeat.
Williams scanned the helm for damage and fixed her gaze on the objects floating in the puddle under the front window.
“Uh-oh,” she said, “We’ve got more problems. There’s now a blue glow under all that crap in the corner and the water’s starting to rise.”
Just as she completed her sentence, a tiny pencil-sized shaft of water flashed across the room striking the rear bulkhead wall and scattering into a thick freezing mist, spraying us with a shower of icy water.
Suddenly from the overhead speakers Ivy’s voice blared, “Condition Red. Condition Red. I am detecting a sudden pressure fluctuation in the bridge. Attempt repair or evacuate immediately! Please acknowledge.”
“Heard, Ivy.” Bowman released his harness and fell awkwardly to the floor.
“Watch the tilt,” he grumbled.
Righting himself, he ignored our new increased list and surveyed the damage.
“We have to leave now unless anyone has an idea how to repair that rupture.”
Feeling his eyes on me I said, “I got nothing, Dave. Sorry. Time to leave.”
Nodding, unbuckling his harness the Chief agreed, “We have to leave before that leak grows. It’s right over the monopole now and its force is more directed. That hull won’t last long.”
Horrifying seconds later, we were all standing together holding hands for stability clumsily trying to reach the ladder without slipping in the rising water.
Williams went up first opening then dropping down the hatch.
“All clear up here! Come on up. Hurry, the water’s rising!”
She was right. I felt the frigid liquid seeping into my socks and then looked down and saw it slowly rising up my boot.
“Need a hand Admiral,” I asked. Before I could finish he was at the top climbing through the hatch.
“You go now, Dave.”
“No, I’ll go last. You first, Matt. Then Briscoe. I’ll follow and close the hatch behind me.”