Counterpoint (55 page)

Time was critical, at any moment the
drifting vessel might strike rock. Everyone knew this, but pushed
it to the back of their minds while they got on with their
jobs.

As the heavy cover plates swung clear,
the team could see most of the fish trapped inside were still
alive. Writhing and biting in the remaining shallow water. The
Senator cautiously prodded the mass with a broom handle and his
blood ran cold. The creatures bit and splintered it clean through.
Now close to the fish, he could see they had powerful jaws, and
teeth like a mature Moray eel. The water was still knee deep, and
because the pump filters were constantly blocking up from the
sludge of chewed fish bodies, it was not likely to get much lower.
Although the propulsion tubes were 2.5 meters high, the team would
have to work below the water level to fit some of the grid bars and
weld them in place. Somehow, the live fish had to be killed
off.

With the enormous supply of electrical
power available, the plan was to electrocute the vicious creatures
and end their threat to the team. A substantial cable was run from
the Main battery bus bar to the entrance of the tube. The charge
would be 200 volts and hundreds of amps, enough current to burn out
the muscle and nerve system of any creature it flows through, even
boil the water locally if left on, for even a short time.

When the current was switched on, the
writhing mass instantly and violently arched their bodies and
opened their large mouth’s wide, in a grotesque spasm. All activity
ceased in the fish, only the water boiling around the exposed cable
end could be heard. Steam and smoke bubbled up through the water
along the tube from the charring bodies; the stench was vile and
nauseating. After 30 seconds, the current was switched off. A weak
flapping and splashing could be heard towards the extreme ends of
the tube, so another charge lasting a full minute was applied.
Nothing stirred after that.

Quickly the team squelched their way
towards the bow. So they could work, the dead fish were held back
by boards, forming a small dam while they fitted the grid.

The moment the outer chamber door
opened, the fish flooded in and swarmed around Max & Carla.
Clinging together with terror, they waited for the creature’s
needle sharp teeth to tear into their flesh. After a dozen or so
random bites, the combination of tasteless rubber and grease caused
them to lose interest. Realising this Max and Carla pushed up and
out of the chamber. The fish no longer attacked, but were so thick
neither of them could see which way to swim along the hull. Carla
switched on her electrical device and immediately the fish within
several meters darted away and kept their distance. The electrical
field obviously worked well.

Keeping close to the hull, they swam to
the bow and fitted the first grid.

The welding was tricky to master
underwater, but no one was going to complain about the rough and
chunky joint if the bars held. Max welded, whilst Carla kept an eye
on the time and the remaining air supply. Although the first grid
took more time than expected, the second one should be easier, they
hoped.

By keeping close to the hull on their
long swim to the stern, the pull of the current hardly affected
them. Fixing the grid was going well now, and soon they would be
back, safe inside.

The second team had completed their
work and the cover plate was being refitted. Everyone was sick with
the smell of boiled fish and prayed the air filtration system would
soon clear the air.

Ten minutes later, the crew was getting
anxious about the progress from the two outside the hull.

Their work done, Max and Carla were
heading back to the chamber when suddenly; all the fish disappeared
into the blackness.

The monitor screens now clearly
displayed the blackness around the sub and the two divers swimming
strongly towards the hatch. The display also showed the rock face
racing by, on one side of the channel.

The loud beeping of the collision alarm
startled the crew in the control room. All eyes turned to a
flashing red circle on the under hull monitor. Whatever had caused
it to activate, it was not in visible range yet. A list of data
about the approaching object, rising up from the depths, showed it
was about 2.5 metres diameter, 23 meters long and moving at about
25 knots. No one could guess what it was, but it was big, solid and
definitely coming straight at them.

“Brace for collision!” warned Bill, “It
will be here in about one minute.”

Everyone standing, sat down and
strapped in or grabbed something immovable for support as they
watched both, the red circle and the approaching divers. Would Max
and Carla reach the open hatch in time, so the sub could move out
of the way or would the object strike them, or the sub? The seconds
ticked by, it was going to be close. The red circle vanished and
was replaced by the now visible object. The growing dot of light
seemed to change colour, pulsing red and orange with a fringe of
white. The magnified view showed the colour change was random waves
that passed over the visible surface and the white were bright
specks that defined a circular outline. Almost on them, the shape
veered off to one side of the hull, giving everyone a clear view of
this new terror from the deep.

Carla was vertical over the hatch
opening, about to descend into the chamber when Max turned away and
saw the approaching mass of light. As it shot up and away from the
sub, Max pushed Carla down in the chamber to relative safety. The
massive Humboldt squid looped back, and with the two longest
tentacles, snatched Max away into the darkness. Totally
disorientated, Max struggled to keep his faceplate from being torn
away by the slipstream of water as he was dragged at great speed
into the darkness. He could feel the grip of the eight other
shorter tentacles propelling him along the ring-fence tube of
rubbery flesh. His helmet light picked out the large suckers, edged
with hook like teeth that ripped into the outer rubber suit and
grated on the thin aluminium body armour underneath. Hardly daring
too, he directed his light at the root of the tentacles. At first,
it was difficult to make it out, but when he did, he froze in utter
terror. An absurd thought passed through his mind, it looked like a
foreskin with a parrot’s beak inside, but of truly massive
proportions. It was the squid’s mouth. As the foreskin pulled back,
the beak opened and snapped shut. Renowned for intelligence, it
knew how to toy with its prey. It knew that its victim could never
escape its clutches. By teasing, with a slow journey to an
agonising death, it could prolong the mental torture. Just three
meters away from that vicious beak, Max could now appreciate its
sheer size, fully open; a man could pass inside without touching
the razor sharp edges. The creature had no intention of swallowing
this morsel whole, though; it would be done excruciatingly slowly,
bite by bite.

Because the eyes of the squid were
outside the ring of tentacles, feeding was all done by touch. The
retractable foreskin of the flesh, around the beak, would extend
out and around the victim like lips, drawing it onto the snapping
beak.

Max released the harness that supported
the welding cylinders to his body and clutching the regulator,
fully opened the valves. Thrusting the cylinders into the open beak
with one hand, he operated the welding torch with the other. Try as
he might, it would not ignite. The beak shuts hard on the steel
cylinders, causing the bony substance to shatter with a shriek of
grating metal. The squids long ribbon like tongue, covered with
hook like rasping teeth tried frantically to eject the cylinders,
but Max kept it in place. The tentacles pressed down on Max, trying
to impale him on the tip of the beak, but he straddled it and
slipped down outside it into the root of the tentacles. By stamping
down hard on the end of the welding torch he drove the long tip
into the creature's flesh like a short dagger. The creature hardly
felt it, being more intent on getting rid of the cylinders and
eating its victim. Gas poured into the body tissues and cavities,
its rapid expansion causing the metal welding tip to freeze and
bond with the flesh wound. The squid’s body was filling rapidly
with oxygen and acetylene, making it very buoyant. Although the
creature tried to dive deeper, it could not overcome the upward
force. In a panic, it released Max and ejected the cylinders, but
not the frozen tip. The gas still poured into its body. At great
speed, the squid headed off into the darkness trying to dive,
leaving Max in the middle of blackness, all alone and completely
lost.

Everyone aboard the sub, except Carla
and the crew helping her re-enter, saw the attack on Max and
watched awestruck until the squid finally left. With Carla safely
aboard, the sub edged closer to Max hoping he would see the sub and
be able to swim into the chamber. Just 500 metres from him, the
collision alarm went off again. This time, the squid was circling
high above, and a large number of high speed objects, most likely
other squids, were closing on the sub.

Bill shouted to the pilot to hurry.
“Get the sub to Max before the squids do!”

The Pilot was doing his best, but
10,000 tonnes cannot manoeuvre like a car.

The chamber crew had already opened the
outer door and turned the light on inside, although Max would not
see it until he was above it. Closer they drew and thankfully, Max
turned and started swimming hard towards the hatch. The group of
squid swerved around the hull and into Max. Four or five struck him
hard like a flying tackle on a child, but then continued to their
main target, the injured squid. As intelligent creatures, the main
meal was going to be the larger squid, but if they could injure or
kill Max, he would still be around for those who wanted desert!

Swimming weakly, Max made his way to
the safety of the hatch. As the huge steel door swung closed, he
sank slowly to the bottom as the water drained away and let black
clouds of unconsciousness sweep over him. He was safe at last.

Max came round on the cot in sickbay.
Carla fussed around him as he regained consciousness.

“Thank god your alive she cried, I
never want to go through a fright like that again and as for fish,
I never want to see one again, fish fingers included.

”
Max smiled faintly
and whispered, “I could do with a sip of brandy if you could find
some?”

She shivered inwardly, but went to get
some. She knew how good it was at revitalising the tired or injured
body, but still felt revulsion at the thought of drinking
alcohol.

Several hours later, feeling a bit
better, Max went to the control room and asked what was happening.
The US1 was running well and according to Ingrid’s calculations,
they could be close to the end of the tunnel. Spirits were rising
at the same rate as tension. Seeing their loved ones and home
again, was getting closer with every second, but would they get
through the exit to the Pacific Ocean? There was no good reason why
this end should be any different to the other end; it had to be
large to allow so much water to flow.

Ingrid cautioned everyone that it was
possible for many small tunnels to achieve the same flow and that
they might never find one large enough to get through!

Carla thought, that is the trouble with
this girl, she is so negative, we didn’t come through so much and
come so far just to turn back! There has to be a way!

Navigation reported light ahead,
natural light that is, probably from the end of the tunnel.
Everyone cheered before he went on to say that it was too small to
get through, and they should go deeper, in the direction of the
main flow.

Bill checked with Senator Joe Buck if
that is what he wanted. Relieved that Max was not nearby to dilute
his authority, Buck readily agreed.

The US1 dived with the flow, a shallow
angle at first, but soon at 45 degrees. The vessel had not been
tested at its design depth, but soon would be, as the exit was some
long way down yet.

At 500m below the
design depth, the hull was making a peculiar ringing noise. Bill
reckoned the distorted hull shape due to the water pressure of
360kgf/cm
²
, the size of a small postage stamp, was seizing the
propulsion mechanism in its bearings. In essence, they were unable
to continue! Engineering confirmed propulsion output was dropping
rapidly, and motor temperature was dangerously high due to the
overload.

What were they to do now? No one could
face going back along the tunnel!

Joe Buck insisted they go deeper; he
was used to steamrollering his way through problems, because he had
done it all his life. He failed to appreciate that machinery and
laws of physics had no fear of him, when their limit was reached,
that was that.

Bill told the Navigator to back up to
the surface and let the system cool down so they could try again.
Buck agreed; a shit or bust charge to freedom was just how he saw
the way out.

Hearing the motor pitch change and the
motion of the vessel rising, Max and Carla went to the control room
to see what was happening.

“What do you want?” Buck snapped
irritably at Max.

“I wanted to see what a fine mess you
want me to get you out of,” was Max’s stinging reply.

Turning to Bill, Max asked what was
happening.

“Well, we cannot get through the hole
at this level because it is far too small and whatever size the
opening is down there,” he pointed. “We can’t get to it. We decided
to come back up to cool off the motors and try again later.”

“Perhaps we should talk to Ingrid and
see what she has to say, she certainly knows her rocks,” suggested
Max.