DEAD SPAC MARTYR PART FOUR THE DESCENT Part 36

 



36

“No reason to be nervous,” Hendricks said. “It’s just like any

other day.”

Altman got the feeling that he was saying it to try to

convince himself. “No worries,” he said. “It’ll be a piece of

cake.”

They went down to one thousand meters, the sickly sea

life at first present and then slowly dwindling. Then two

thousand, the sea becoming more and more deserted, but

still a few flickers of life, the photophores of a viperfish

passing and spinning away into the darkness. A bony

fangtooth, caught briefly in the lights, looking like a halfformed

thing. A bathyscaphoid squid that resembled a

disembodied head made of glass.

At 2,700 meters, they could make out the lights below, no

more than pinpricks in the darkness. Slowly they grew

larger. Altman was still watching them when he heard a

whimper behind him.

He turned. Hendricks was pale and stiff faced. Tears

were dripping slowly from his eyes. He didn’t seem to

notice them. Oh God, thought Altman, something’s wrong.

Maybe I was wrong to tell Stevens to let Hendricks go

ahead with the dive.

But even then he didn’t feel nervous for himself, only

worried for Hendricks. Hendricks would never do anything

to hurt him.

“What’s wrong?” Altman asked.

“I don’t want to die,” he sobbed.

“You’re not going to die,” said Altman. “Don’t worry.”

“Hennessy and Dantec. What happened to them? We’re

not meant to be down here, Altman. I can feel it.”

Altman slowed the bathyscaphe until it was descending

almost unnoticeably. “If you want to go up, we can go up,”

said Altman in a level voice, trying to make Hendricks look

him in the eye. “I’m not going to make you do anything you

don’t want to do. But now that we’re here, we should take

the readings. You don’t mind doing the readings, do you?”

Hendricks took a deep breath, blinked his eyes, seemed

to grab hold of himself. “Yes,” he said. “I’m good at the

readings. I can do that. I need something to do.”

He let Hendricks busy himself with the machinery while

he continued to ease the craft down. Hendricks began,

running through them rapidly, Altman checking his work.

The signal pulse was there, much stronger at this level.

They should measure it again at two thousand feet on the

way back up, Altman thought—maybe the signal was

growing even stronger.

Then Hendricks tried to measure it again. This time there

was nothing; the signal pulse was gone. Altman took a

reading himself just to make sure. Same result. He tried yet

again and it was back.

So, Altman thought, the signal was pulsing on and off,

sometimes there, sometimes not. Maybe a problem with

the transmitter, some irregularity or corrupted circuit. Or

maybe it was deliberate. Maybe it was sending them a

message.

He glanced over at Hendricks. Was he going to be able

to hold it together? Should he try to get him up to the

surface as quickly as possible?

“Good, Hendricks,” Altman said. “These are excellent

readings. Let’s change our strategy for a moment. Instead

of trying to record the level synchronically, let’s take a

diachronic profile and see if we can figure out what the

pulse is doing over time.”

“Would Markoff want that?” asked Hendricks.

“I think he’d welcome it,” said Altman. “I think he’d

congratulate us for taking the initiative.”

“How long will it take?” Hendricks asked.

Altman shrugged, holding his face utterly neutral. “Not too

long,” he claimed.

When Hendricks nodded, he showed him how to

recalibrate the device and start it recording. Altman himself

kept the bathyscaphe descending, extremely slowly now.

Below them, maybe fifty meters farther down, were the

robotic dredgers and the MROVs. Most of the MROVs had

stopped, he saw, were on standby, waiting for the next

command from the surface. The signal wasn’t reaching

them. He made a mental note to suggest that arrangements

be made to control the MROVs from the bathyscaphe

rather than from the floating compound.

The machines that were still working had cleared a large

circle of the ocean floor of muck and slurry, digging down to

more solid rock. They had begun to break this up as well

and cart it away, digging downward to form a funnel. The

machines at the bottom were perhaps another two hundred

meters down. It was difficult to judge; the water there was

murky with mudrock particles and matter of other sort from

the rock they were removing. They were deeper than

Altman had thought they would be; Markoff must have

started them digging well before the floating compound

was moved into position.

He descended a few meters into the cone the MROVs

had dug out and then stopped. If he went too much farther,

he would risk being jostled by one of the robotic dredgers

moving into and out of the hole. He decided to wait until he

could control the dredgers and MROVs from the

bathyscaphe and move them out of the way. Besides, there

was Hendricks to consider.

He turned back to Hendricks. “How are you doing?” he

asked.

“My head hurts,” said Hendricks.

“That’s normal,” claimed Altman, though he wasn’t

entirely sure it was. His own head didn’t hurt, or at least not

any more than usual, and since the cabin was pressurized,

their descent shouldn’t have had any effect. “It’s just from

the pressure,” he lied. “It’ll go away soon.”

Hendricks nodded. “Oh, right,” he said, and gave a weak

smile. “Normal.” And then he squinted at the observation

porthole. “I think my father’s out there,” he said, his voice

filling with wonder.

Startled, Altman asked, “What did you say?”

“My father,” Hendricks said again. He waved. “Hi, Dad!”

Altman started the bathyscaphe ascending, gently, never

taking his eyes off Hendricks. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry,

Jason. It doesn’t seem possible.”

After a moment staring out the glass, Hendricks gave a

little laugh.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “He’s explained it to me. He is

dead, and so the pressure can’t hurt him.”

“If he’s dead, he’s not here,” said Altman. “If he’s dead,

he’s not anywhere.”

“But I see him!” said Hendricks, starting to get a little

angry. “I know what I see!”

“All right, Hendricks,” said Altman, smiling and keeping

his voice level. “I’m sorry.”

Hendricks turned back to the observation porthole,

mumbling to himself. Altman risked glancing down at the

instruments. The pulse signal had increased in intensity just

around the time that Hendricks had started seeing his

father. He told himself that that wasn’t logical, that it was just

coincidence, but it was hard for him to believe that. It

dipped back down again and he watched Hendricks’s

eyes, which had been intensely regarding the observation

porthole, suddenly go out of focus. He snapped his fingers

in front of his eyes.

“Hendricks,” he said. “Look at me. Look here.”

Hendricks began to and then stopped, his eyes drifting

back to the porthole. Another glance: the signal had gone

up again, was even stronger than it had been before.

“He wants to come in,” said Hendricks. “He’s cold out

there. Don’t worry, Dad, we’ll help you.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” said Altman.

Hendricks got up from his chair and stumbled to the

observation porthole, knocking his head against the glass.

He hit it with his head again, and again.

“Hendricks,” said Altman, grabbing his arm. “Don’t!”

Hendricks shook Altman off and then elbowed him hard

in the face, knocking him out of his chair.

“Come in, Dad!” he was shouting now. “Come in!”

Altman pulled himself up and moved to the far end of the

cabin. The controls, he realized, had been knocked in the

struggle; they were descending again, slowly, and he

hoped he could stop it before they plowed into a dredger.

Hendricks was pounding on the porthole with his fists now,

stopping only to claw at its edges with his fingernails.

Altman searched frantically for a weapon. There was

nothing, at least nothing he could immediately see. He

searched his pockets, his person, nothing.

He crept forward, crouching. He reached past

Hendricks’s waist and flicked the lever even, was trying to

nudge it forward to make the craft rise when Hendricks

cried out and knocked him to the floor.

“Don’t touch him!” he was screaming.

Dazed, Altman stared at the base of the console. He’s

going to kill me, he suddenly realized. I was wrong. I signed

my death warrant when I cleared him.

He didn’t want to die. There had to be a weapon

somewhere.

Slowly, trying not to alert Hendricks, he wriggled

backward and away from him. Once he was as far away as

he could get, he sat up with his back to the bulkhead and

removed his shoes.

The shoes were modified bluchers, with a pebbled

Vibram sole but a hard heel in back, the sole flexible and

with a snap to it. He stood up, took hold of each shoe by the

toe box, made a chopping motion with his arms. Yes, he

thought, it might be enough.

“You’re not going to get him inside that way,” said

Altman. “You need to bring him through the hatch.”

Hendricks stopped, turned around to look at him. “I

thought you didn’t want him to come in,” he said

suspiciously.

“Are you kidding?” said Altman. “I heard your father was

a great guy.”

“He is a great guy,” said Hendricks, and smiled.

“Fine,” said Altman. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s

get him in here.”

Hendricks stumbled toward the hatch, then stopped.

“Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “Why are you holding your

shoes?”

Oh, shit, thought Altman, but tried to stay calm. “They’re

my favorite shoes. I thought I’d give them to your father,” he

said.

This answer seemed to satisfy Hendricks. He nodded

once and turned toward the ladder leading up to the hatch.

As soon as his hands touched the ladder’s rails, Altman

was on him. He hit him as hard as he could in the back of

the head with the heel of each shoe in turn, employing the

shoe like a blackjack. Hendricks swayed, started to turn.

Altman struck him again, then again. He crumbled and

collapsed into a heap.

“Sorry about that,” said Altman to his unconscious friend.

“I couldn’t think of any other way.”

He quickly stripped off Hendricks’s shirt and undershirt.

He tore them into strips, twisted them into ropes. These he

used to tie Hendricks’s hands and arms behind his back

and then hogtie his legs to his hands.

He sat down and put his shoes back on, then examined

the controls. Nothing had been hurt that he could see. They

were floating just above and to one side of the hole the

robotic units had dug out, probably carried there by some

deepwater current.

He was about to start back up again when something

caught his eye. An odd fish, drifting awkwardly into his

lights. It had a flayed, incomplete look. It was less like the

prehistoric-looking fishes that he had seen so far on the

dive than the corpse of a fish that had been dead and

floating in the water a few days. And yet as he watched it, it

moved under its own power.

There was something else puzzling about it. Rather than

a long slender body like a viperfish or a thick bulbous one

like a lanternfish, it looked like a long fish that had been

folded in half and then glued together. The head was

surmounted by a wavy translucent curtain of flesh that

resembled nothing so much as a tail. In the place of fins, it

had what looked like little spurs of bone undulating from its

sides. As he watched, a snaggletooth entered the lights

and the first fish darted toward it. The first fish caught the

snaggletooth on its spurs and, undulating, began to tear it

apart until the other fish was dead and in pieces. Intrigued,

Altman pressed a button and filmed the end of the fight and

the fish as it passed in front of them and into the darkness.

And then he saw something else even stranger. Here

and there, floating through the water, were patches of what

looked like flat, pale pink clouds. At first he thought it was a

ray, but it wasn’t differentiated in the way a ray was. It was

just a floating, billowing sheet of something. A strange

jellyfish maybe? A fungus of some kind? He nudged the

bathyscaphe in for a closer look. When the craft touched it,

it draped over the hull then split apart, slowly reknitting after

their passage. Some of it, though, adhered to the

observation porthole and remained there, caught on the

rivets.

“Well I’ll be damned,” said Altman.

Behind him, Hendricks groaned. He was tied up, but who

knew how long his bonds would hold? They had to get to

the surface as quickly as possible.

He turned off the override for the pellet release valve and

pressed a button. The bathyscaphe began to rise

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