Into the Abyss (Tom Swift, Young Inventor) (5 page)

This was going to be
Jules Verne-1
’s first actual dive, but I didn’t mention it to Bud or Yo. I figured, why worry them?

What did it matter, anyway? Everything would go just fine. The submersible would work perfectly, just as it was designed to do.

In theory, at least.

Why did those words keep repeating themselves in my brain? And what was that queasy feeling I got whenever they did?

I’m not usually afraid of the unknown. You can’t be if you’re a scientist. But I couldn’t shake the sense that something terrible was about to happen.

Much to our surprise, breakfast was delicious—even Yo said so.

Scully, the ship’s cook, told us he used to be the short-order cook at a “greasy spoon” in Rhode Island.

His pancakes were awesome, and we ate more than our fill—especially Yo. The way she can pack in the food is amazing!

Anyway, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day. The sun had risen, and the water was as smooth as glass on Shopton Bay as we cast off.

The bay is pretty huge, and it took nearly an hour to reach the point where the bay’s waters gave way
to the open ocean. We knew we were there, though, because all of a sudden, the boat started rocking.

At first it was just swells, but they kept getting larger and larger. Then, as we passed the cape at the head of the bay, the wind kicked up something fierce, and the swells became waves—great big ones with deep troughs between them.

The captain—who was at the helm himself, I noticed—had us pointed directly into the chop. The boat rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell …

And so did all those pancakes we’d eaten.

The three of us were standing at the port rail, staring out at the shifting horizon. A pod of bottlenose dolphins were racing with us, leaping and smiling their amazing smiles as they leaped out of the waves and plunged back in.

It didn’t seem to bother them that we were being rocked back and forth like a cradle gone wild.

The first wave of nausea took me by surprise. I had to fight not to lose my pancakes right then and there. It took a couple more big waves before I began to get used to the pitch and roll. After that, I was okay.

I wondered about Bud, though—this being his
first time at sea. But obviously I had nothing to worry about. He was laughing and whooping each time a wave crested the bow of the boat, and every time we slammed down hard.

“HAHAHAHA!!!!” he cackled. “This is better than the best roller coaster! Bring it on, King Neptune! It’s me, Ulysses, King of the World! WHOO-HOO!”

Wow
. Who would have thought it? Bud had the cast-iron stomach of a born sailor.

“Auuggghhh …”

Bud and I both turned to look at Yo. She looked distinctly green.

“Why … did I eat those … pancakes …
aauughhh
…”

Bud and I turned away as the inevitable happened. When Yo had finished losing her pancakes, we helped her down the stairs and up into her bunk. “Cruise ships never rock like this,” she said. “I think this boat is gonna sink. … Aughh …”

That was all Bud had to hear. After he had been made fun of all morning because he was a “landlubber,” it turned out
Yo
was the one who couldn’t handle it when the going got tough!

It was a rare moment, and Bud wasn’t going to let it go without some serious payback. “I wonder what time
lunch is served,” he started. “Hmmm … let’s see …. Here’s the menu …. We’ve got soft-boiled eggs … creamed spinach … ooo, and sushi! Mmmm …”

“Aughhh! Cut it out, you beast!” Yo begged.

I have to admit, I couldn’t resist making a few comments myself. I mean, Yo had been bragging about her experiences at sea ever since that afternoon in the ice cream parlor. Besides, we knew she would get back at us sooner or later. She always seemed to get the last word in somehow.

Lunch was served at noon, but none of us wanted to eat. I wasn’t totally immune to the boat’s rocking and swaying, even if I didn’t show it as much as Yo. As for Bud, he showed no signs of slowing down, but I noticed he didn’t go to the galley either.

The waves just kept coming. At about three in the afternoon, Captain Walters came below to check up on us. “Everybody okay down here?” he asked.

“I’m dying …,” Yo moaned. From the way she looked, it wasn’t that hard to believe.

“Gee, I’m sorry,” the captain said. “You boys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Bud said, smiling broadly and saluting. “Just perfect. Great day for sailing.”

“I should have warned you about the swells.”

“Swells?” Yo repeated. “Swells? This is like a hurricane or something!”

The captain smiled and shook his head. “It’s just the effect of that storm down south that I told you about. It’s a big one, and it’s picking up speed, so the wind and waves are reaching all the way up here. But don’t worry—it’s still plenty far away. If it ever catches up with us—then you’ll see some waves.”

“Could … could that really happen?” Yo asked, in a pleading voice.

He looked at Yo and rubbed his chin. “It’s weather, so you never can tell.” He shrugged. “Sorry about that. I’d offer you a pill for seasickness, but it wouldn’t do any good. You have to take it beforehand.”

“
Now
you tell me.” Yo wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. “Where’s that bucket?”

My dad arrived by helicopter at four thirty that afternoon. The big black chopper had a hard time landing on the ship’s tiny helipad, because it kept heaving up and down with the waves.

Finally, my dad emerged from the chopper’s cabin and came down onto the deck to greet all of us.

“Sorry I’m late!” he shouted over the noise of the
chopper blades. He turned back and waved to the pilot, who quickly took off again. Within ten seconds, the helicopter had practically disappeared from view.

“Let me take your bags for you, Mr. Swift,” the captain said.

“Thanks, Mark. If you wouldn’t mind bringing it into the lab and getting everyone together, I’d like to speak with them all about our mission.”

“Very good, Mr. Swift.”

My dad is a pretty imposing guy. He’s big and tall, and stands straight as a rod. If he wore a uniform, believe me, you’d salute.

“Hello, Bud. Yo, good to see you.” He gave me a quick squeeze on the shoulder. “Everything going well, son?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good. Then let’s get started.”

He led us down into the ship’s lab, the largest space on board. The captain hadn’t shown it to us on our little tour, and now I could see why the rest of the ship had seemed so quiet—everyone and his brother was crammed in here.

The whole place was bustling with activity. There
were banks of monitors on every wall. Below them sat a huge set of servers.

In the middle of the room were several computers on desks arranged in a circle. Sitting at each desk were intense-looking scientists, examining charts, videos, maps, and statistics. They dropped what they were doing as soon as my dad walked in.

“All right, everyone,” he said, not wasting a single moment. “Bill, could you lower the lights and start the slide show going?”

The scientist named Bill jumped up and hit the light switch. A screen lowered slowly from the ceiling, lit by the glow of the projector.

My dad plugged his laptop into the system, pushed a few keys, and a map of the North Atlantic Ocean lit up the screen.

“This,” my dad said, pointing to a spot off the East Coast of the United States, “is where we are right now. This,” he moved his hand to the right about a foot, “is where we are headed. It’s called ‘the abyssal plain.’ On one side of it is the continental shelf—shallow water. On the other side, the mid-ocean ridge begins.”

“The ‘abyssal plain’?” Bud repeated.

“Yes, Bud,” my dad said. “It’s over three miles deep. That makes it one of the deepest parts of the North Atlantic—except for the Puerto Rican trench, of course, which is a mile deeper.”

“Hey! Viva Puerto Rico!” Yo said, perking up a little.

The boat was still pitching and yawing, but by this point she had nothing left in her stomach to lose.

“Viva!” my dad echoed with a smile. “Anyway, the reason we’re headed to the abyssal plain, here”—he pointed to a spot on the map—“past the Turner Seamounts, is that it borders on a major earthquake fracture zone. The seamounts themselves are active volcanoes, erupting frequently.”

He gave us all a serious look. “Last month, there was an undersea earthquake in this area measuring six-point-zero on the Richter scale. It wasn’t felt on land, but instruments detected it. If my calculations are correct, it may be just the first in a series, as this sector of the mid-ocean ridge is still shifting.

“Worst case scenario is a massive quake, followed by a major tsunami. If that happens, the entire East Coast would be in danger. That’s why we’re here.”

“I don’t get it,” one of the scientists said. “Even if you’re right, what can we do about it?”

My dad smiled and opened one of the dozen or so metal suitcases the helicopter had dropped off with him. It looked exactly like the one I’d brought to the aquarium that night the week before. Inside the case was a spherical object with cables emerging from one side.

It was made of the same material I’d used to make my deep-sea diving suit, except it had a more silvery color. It shimmered in the dim light of the lab.

Titanium-laced—of course! I had to give it up for Dad. As good as my idea was, he had already improved on it.

“This,” he told us, “is a seismic sensor, specially designed to resist deep-ocean pressure. We’re going to be heading down to the bottom of the abyssal plain in the
Jules Verne-1
. We’ll put the submersible through its paces, study the deep-ocean faults to find the best locations, and then lay down a linked network of these sensors. That way, if the worst happens, at least we can get a tsunami warning out to people living along the shoreline.”

“Wow!” Bud said in a whisper. “This is way cool. Wait till I write it up in the
Gazette!
”

“I told you you’d get a good story out of this trip,” I said. “But remember—the
Jules Verne-1
is still not ready for commercial sale. You can’t go into detail about it, or the sensors, or my suit, or my zapper, or any of it.”

“Tom,” he said, giving me a look. “How many times have we had this conversation?”

He had me there. I’m always telling him to stick to the basics and not to give away any of Swift Enterprises’ trade secrets. But he’s always been great about it. His stories in the
Gazette
are masterpieces—they tease the reader without giving very much away. I’m telling you—that kid is gonna be a famous author someday.

My dad finished his talk. The scientists broke into working groups to prepare for the launch of the
Jules Verne-1
, which was scheduled for the next morning at eight. By then, the captain explained, the storm was supposed to head northeast and break apart, leaving calmer seas that would be perfect for diving.

At six, they called us for dinner. Bud and I went
down to the galley, but Yo was still too sick. She lay in the bottom bunk—
my
bunk—unable even to climb up to her own.

“This one’s closer to the bathroom,” she said as she closed her eyes.

“It’s the head, Yo,” Bud corrected her.

“Not funny, Bud,” she said, groaning one more time.

He laughed. “Come on, Tom,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder, “let’s go get us some chow.”

4
 
 
Dangers of the Deep

It’s hard to eat your dinner when it keeps sliding all over the table and your hand keeps missing your mouth with the fork. With the ship pitching and yawing like crazy, it was even harder to keep the food down once we ate it—at least, for me.

Bud seemed to have no problem. He even asked for seconds.

“Hey, Tom,” he said after we were done eating and had packed a doggie bag for Yo, even though we knew she’d probably never touch it, “let’s go out on deck and check out the stars.”

“Are you crazy?” I asked. “You’re liable to get tossed overboard. Remember, you’re not used to walking around on a heaving ship.”

“I could get used to it real quick,” he said.