Melisande Mason - 2042 - The Great Cataclysm

Nick laid his hand on Beau’s shoulder. ‘Great job down there mate. That was one helluva dance.’

Beau warmed under Nick’s smile. ‘Piece of cake boss.’ He also knew it would be a while before he could rest. So many checks to do but he didn’t care, he loved the Bunyip like it was his own baby and despite the challenge faced today, he would be first on board for the next dive.

It was always a dizzying moment for the Bunyip as they left the buoyant water and hovered in mid-air, swaying precariously until the huge davit that had plucked them from the sea lowered her gently into her gantry cradle on the rear deck of the ship.

Nick liked to leave the sub first once she was secured. It had nothing to do with escaping the claustrophobic atmosphere in the pressure-sphere, but more to do with the anxiety he felt that no damage should come to the craft while she was being locked into her cradle. Now he had the added worry of damage she may have experienced below. He folded his wide shoulders forward and climbed toward the escape hatch, drawing in a deep breath as he squeezed his large body into the narrow space. He reached for the overhead hatch and pushed open the heavy lid, letting it fall back on the hull with a bang. He slammed shut his eyes as an arc of brilliant light flooded his face, and scrambled through the hatch, sliding gracefully onto the deck to begin his inspection of the hull.

He gave the crew up thumbs-up and they guided her carefully into her cradle on the ship’s open rear deck and fastened a giant hook to her nose, and then the pulleys took over hauling her into the steel gantry where she nestled with ease. Nick trailed his hands over the yellow balloon-shaped cocoon, sweeping away the trailing shiny silk threads of water streaming from her fat titanium hull, his eyes peeled for any cuts or bruises like a loving parent inspecting his child on it’s return from a particularly roughhouse football match. Satisfied all was well, Nick racked his elbows against the ship’s rail and leaned back to watch Beau and Jeremy disembark onto the platform on the gantry. He contemplated his good fortune and a twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he surveyed the sub and the men surrounding her, like a crew of nurses tending their patient. He savoured the ship’s gentle sway and drew in the heavy salt air. Breaking his stance, he leaned on one arm and stroked his moustache, spreading his thumb and forefinger back and forth over it’s henna sprouts unconsciously trying to tame the wiry tufts. Many people accused him of being a dreamer, said he’d never make it.Well, the world’s full of dreamers. Just as well too.He thought. Yet his success was always tempered by a longing for Australia. He had made this dream come true now his new dream was to take the Platypus home.

Seven years ago he had gambled everything when he’d instructed a shipyard in Miami to build her, solely on the assumption he would win the ten-year, multimillion dollar American research contract. It was a case of no Platypus – no contract. He had sweet-talked an American shipwright and some other astute investors, one of which was Graham Bronson – his best friend, into financing the deal to the tune of two hundred and eighty-million dollars, and many sleepless nights followed until his successful bid was announced. It wasn’t so much the money, which in the year 2035 was a conservative sum, but his ability to cover every contingency.

She was worth every penny, boasting a broad twenty metre stern with a gantry capable of lifting the Bunyip’s twelve thousand kilograms with ease. The traditional masts carrying radar, GPS and other communications equipment was replaced with a smooth opaque panel on top of the transparent dome-like hood that wrapped around and over the entire superstructure, from the bridge amidships to the stern gantry, giving the ship the appearance of a floating elongated cocoon. This hood made of a material called Navilon invented by a team of French scientists, featured all of these systems built into it’s surface. It’s other unique properties provided the occupants of the bridge insulation from the elements and bulletproof protection against the pirates who roamed the oceans day and night. The hood, operated by voice recognition control could be collapsed into folds above the bridge like a telescope, exposing the forward Veto platform and the stern gantry and hydraulic cranes.

The Short Vertical Take Off and Landing machines, known as Vetos, had superseded the helicopter in 2030, when an exciting breakthrough in technology had reduced production and running costs. Unlike the helicopter these machines could travel much further distances at higher speeds and could hover for much longer. The egg-shaped body was constructed of toughened Navilon with four rotating jet engines positioned at her extremities.

The Platypus’ twin rotating Azipods on her ice strengthened hull pushed her along at an average speed of twenty knots, and with a fuel range of ten thousand kilometres she could stay at sea forty-five days. Four special capsules in the bridge fitted with safety harnesses and communications systems were suspended over a gimbal device to hold the men steady in the highest seas. More capsules were located in strategic places below deck for the crew. In addition to Beau and Jeremy and the ships crew, there were twelve other crew members on board: eight scientific personnel and four marine technicians. A science laboratory of twelve hundred square metres contained wet and dry lab areas, freezers, biological and chemical analysis labs, meteorological labs and climate control chambers. The electronics room housed an Echo Sound processor and Depth Digitiser, bottom mapping Sonar, acoustic Doppler current profiler and a maze of recording equipment.

Besides the laboratory, four climate controlled decks housed the galley, laundry, mess room, ships store and medical facility; and because the men spent weeks at sea at a time, a fully equipped gymnasium and theatre were provided for entertainment. The crew shared comfortable well equipped cabins, each with sleeping cocoons insulated and soundproofed so the men were provided with the utmost comfort.

Then there was the Bunyip, another source of pride. Nick named her after the large creature from Aboriginal mythology who was said to lurk in swamps and water holes. She had cost almost twice as much as the Platypus, however with the lucrative contract in hand, Nick felt the further debt justified. He thought about the rapid technical progress since 1958, when the first Bathyscape, as they were called back then, ventured eleven kilometres to the bottom of the Marianas Deep Trench in the Pacific Ocean. His Bunyip was the envy of many marine scientists, and capable of reaching depths of six and a half thousand metres; about four miles. She carried the most sophisticated equipment available, with hundreds of electronic and mechanical systems. The latest and most innovative addition was a small chamber for a toilet, which allowed the men to stay down for the maximum life support period of eight days.

Nick had needed a brilliant man to manage her complex system, so when Beau Foster, who worked for a hi-tech computer company in Miami was passed over for promotion, Nick had pulled out all stops to hire him. Beau’s price was steep but he had earned his keep a hundred times over, and although they often appeared to be at loggerheads, they had become good friends.

Nick was always ill at ease during the lift as this was the time she was most vulnerable. One slip and immense damage could result. Now she was safe the relief he expected eluded him and worry lines furrowed his brow. He tugged off his shirt to let the sun’s hot rays caress the skin of his weather-hardened chest, but there was a storm cloud gathering in his mind. He ran his fingers through his thick mane and sauntered below-deck to his quarters to fill out the final report to Josh Harrington at the American Geological Institute.