Melisande Mason - 2042 - The Great Cataclysm

Instantly a barrage of loud bangs on the titanium hull echoed through Nick’s brain and instinctively he covered his ears for a moment. The crashing only lasted briefly, then there was silence. He wiped his eyes and another large gash oozed blood from his hand and ran down his face.

Beau’s inert body lay slumped against the wheel. Nick struggled up from the floor where he had fallen and grabbed Beau’s head as he regained consciousness. ‘Beau! Bloody hell Beau. Are you all right?’

‘Yeah… I think so. Wh….at happened?’

‘We’re on the bottom. Motor’s stopped.’

Behind him Jeremy moaned. ‘Oooohhhh. Shi…t… I think my arm’s broken.’

Wolf stumbled to his feet to peer through one of the fisheyes, rubbing the side of his head. ‘I can’t see a thing, it’s a black hole!’

Nick began checking the countless number of dials on the console, paying particular attention to the life support system, while Beau struggled to his feet and regained his senses.

Blood flowed profusely from Nick’s hand, dripping over his clothes, the floor and the console. Concerned at the mess he was making he pulled out the first aid kit and grabbed a bandage, wrapping it carelessly around his hand. He glanced over to Jeremy and rummaged through the kit for a sling to immobilise his broken arm. ‘Anybody else hurt?’

Beau shook his head and jabbed at the starter button. ‘No. Just the sub. She won’t start.’

Nick reached for the radio. ‘Come in Sam. We’ve got a problem. Over.’

‘Sam! Are you there? Over.’

The warm tones of Sam’s voice echoed back, distant but clear. ‘Yes, boss. What’s wrong? Over.’

‘We ran into some trouble, we’re on the bottom. Can’t get the engine started. Stand by. Over.’

‘Je…sus. Standing by. Out.’

Beau thumped the dashboard. ‘Dammit, it won’t turn. I think something’s jammed the prop. We’ll have to get a diver down.’

Wolf lay beside a porthole but could see only blackness. A sudden cacophony of deafening crashes bombarded the Bunyip. ‘Rocks!’ He cried. ‘They’re falling on us!’ The Bunyip shuddered in response to the violent action.

‘Shit! We’ll all be killed!’ Jeremy yelled above the noise.

Nick picked himself up yet again. ‘Nobody panic! We’re tough. Take more than a few rocks to do us in. Beside we’re only at sixty metres. At this depth the ADS divers can get us out of anything.’

‘What are ADS divers?’ Wolf asked.

‘We’ve got three atmospheric diving suits on board. They’re like suits of armour the divers wear. They can go down to six hundred and fifty metres and stay down for hours. Kinda like a mini sub.’

Jeremy pushed back his glasses. ‘I wish you’d talk in feet Nick. What if the rocks bury us too deep?’

Nick ignored his comment and smiled, trying to make light of the situation. ‘We’ll just have to get them to dig us out. We’ve got plenty of air and emergency rations. Er, just need a pack of cards to pass the time.’

Wolf pulled at his jaw. ‘How much air?’

Nick remained calm. ‘Oh, about five, six days. You might get sick of the food though.’

Nick’s relaxed attitude did the trick and the men began going about their business, checking the instruments and looking for damage. He was confident the self-contained hard suits would enable the divers to move the smaller rocks, and manoeuvre the ship’s cables over the larger ones with their articulated manipulators. It was going to be a long wait.

Nick flicked the communications switch. ‘Come in Sam. Over.’ He grinned as Sam’s welcome answer came immediately.

‘It’s running a force seven up here boss, and it’s bloody freezing. What’s your status? Over.’

‘Situation’s not clear yet. Rocks are falling all round us. Get the ADS’s ready and have them on standby. Over.’

‘It’s that bad hey? Any visible damage? Over.’

‘Not sure. The bloody motor won’t start, Beau thinks the prop’s jammed. Everything else seems okay. Searchlights are out. Can’t see a thing. Standby for instructions. Over.’

‘Roger that. Out.’

More rocks thumped on the hull echoing like pounding drums in the stillness, and Nick imagined the debris surrounding them. Fear prickled his skin but he managed to hide it from the others. It was important to keep cool. He prayed the titanium hull would withstand the pressure, and the rocks would not envelope them entirely. The Bunyip was strong, built to withstand great depths, but if they were buried too deep they may never get out.

Time seemed suspended while they waited for the second bombardment to subside. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Deathly silence followed and the dim light in the cabin flickered like a candle. The fisheyes reflected blackness.

Beau slowly felt his way around the bulkhead looking for cold spots. ‘Thank Christ! She seems okay.’

Jeremy punched away on his computer with his good hand. ‘Everything here looks normal. The seismo’s settled down. Looks like the worst’s over.’

‘Yeah, good here too,’ Beau said. ‘Except we’re not going anywhere.’

On board Platypus the men had rigged cables and lifting gear ready to go the sea bed to assist the divers in their efforts to remove the debris. Most of the men on board were qualified to dive, but Sam had picked his best men – Enrico, a young Cuban lad who had proven himself in previous sticky situations and Joe, his best diver. A third diver would standby on the ship to relieve them.

The ADS suits stood at the ready looking more like space suits than diving. A big tank made of cast aluminium and mounted at the rear on the divers shoulders provided an internal pressure of one atmosphere, which eliminated the need for the diver to decompress while surfacing. Thruster packs with constant variable pitch were mounted either side of this tank, and supplied propulsion for the diver and the pincers at the end of the divers arms. Movement was controlled by the feet, left foot for vertical control and right foot for lateral. Rotary joints in the legs and arms provided great mobility while remaining largely unaffected by high pressure.

Getting the suits ready was a time consuming and laborious task. First they were subjected to intense inspection before the men were suited up. Four long hours had passed before Nick gave his instructions and at last they were ready.

Enrico and Joe tested their wireless communication systems and the dual on-suit video cameras, while Sam checked their forty-eight hour oxygen supply with it’s independent backup system. Sam gave the thumbs up to the davit operator to lower the men over the side. It was up to them now, it was Sam’s turn to play the waiting game.

Joe slid down the drop cable slowly, gently tapping his left foot to control the ADS in a slow dive. Clouds of frothy bubbles floated around him as he descended to the seabed. The bottom loomed toward him and he played the searchlight beam mounted on the top of the head dome over the scene, but could not seen the familiar yellow hull of the Bunyip through the haze of swirling mud.

He signalled for Enrico to move in the opposite direction and they set off on a grid pattern, back and forth over the co-ordinates Nick had given Sam. At each turn they placed a coloured peg from their leg pack between the rocks as a guide. Joe’s breathing was easy as he slowly moon-walked over piles of black rock. Blackness of the darkest night surrounded him, and the yellow searchlight projected only a few feet ahead. The metal detector he held remained silent. His leaded boots grazed over the jagged rocks, and he found it difficult to remain upright as he slowly snaked around the position where the Bunyip was supposed to be.