Falling Star (38 page)

1100 Hours: Tuesday, June 29, 1993: On Site Over Watch Station Three

The
Morrow
arrived on site at about 1100 hours, joining the Coast Guard cutter already on scene.  Over head circled the white and orange colored rescue helicopters of the United States Coast Guard.  Captain Vander brought the
Morrow
to within one hundred yards of the cutter and had her crew lower a launch over the side.  Mike and Mannington scrambled down the narrow ladder to reach the launch, which was rolling with the waves.  Once aboard, the two were transported to the Coast Guard vessel.

Climbing on to the cutter, Mike and Mannington were greeted by the Captain of the cutter.  "Welcome aboard, gentlemen.  Heard you were on your way."

"What have you found so far?" said Mike.

"So far the only debris has been six yellow life preservers, no markings except for military specification numbers, and the emergency transponder buoy," said the cutter's Captain.  "We're continuing our search.  How long do you think it will take to launch the Benthic Ranger?"

"It's going through final checkout right now," Mannington replied.  "We expect to be able to launch in about one hour.  Have you found the transponder locating the site of the Watch Station?"

"Yes, you're standing over it."

After examining the life preservers and confirming for themselves that the debris was CSAC issued material, Mike and Mannington launched back to the
Morrow
.

"Captain Mannington," said Chief Warrant Officer Jeffrey Graham, the pilot of the Benthic Ranger.  "We should be ready to go in about fifteen minutes.  Could you and Commander Liu be in the launch bay in Benthic Ranger uniforms in that time?"

"We'll be there, Mr. Graham."

Aboard the Benthic Ranger for this dive would be the pilot, Graham, his co-pilot, Senior Chief Petty Officer John Bell, a dive physician, Dr. Ruth Fleming, a Jason pilot, Seaman First Class Alex C. Broward, Mike and Mannington.  Because of the operational module for the Jason, the cabin of the Benthic Ranger was crowded.

Graham and Bell were making the final inspection and had just completed the checklist when Mike and Mannington walked on to the dry deck of the launch bay, a platform elevator set in the bowels of the
Morrow
, a bit of camouflage to deter prying eyes from learning the true purpose of the
Morrow
.

After Mike and Mannington had boarded the Benthic Ranger, Lieutenant Bell closed the hatch with a solid muffled clang.  The O-ring seals gave out a hissing sound as they were seated with compressed air.  Mike took a seat directly behind the pilot and Mannington took the adjacent seat behind the co-pilot.  Dr. Fleming sat behind Mike and Broward busied himself with checking out the components of Jason.

After all the passengers had buckled themselves to their seats, Graham started the Mess-I nuclear reactor.  Navy divers in scuba gear stood around the Benthic Ranger.

"
Morrow
, this is Benthic Ranger," said Graham.  "Benthic Ranger is ready for launch."

"
Morrow
copies, initiating launch sequence."

With that, the launch platform of the
Morrow
slowly slid into the ocean powered by the silent motion of hydraulic pistons.  Looking out the front window of the Benthic Ranger, Mike watched the Navy divers standing in front of the submersible being slowly swallowed up by the ocean.  Soon, the platform had lowered itself past the bottom of the
Morrow
and the greenish blue light of the surface water replaced the yellowish sodium vapor lights of the launch bay.

The upper water was a teeming aquarium of life as the colorful fish of the photic zone swam all around the vehicle.  Navy divers also swam around the Benthic Ranger making their last inspections prior to sending the vehicle to the bottom.  Soon, one of the divers swam to the front window and gave the thumbs up sign and then just as quickly disappeared.

"Okay, here we go," said Graham as he started the rear propeller of the Benthic Ranger.  He guided the Benthic Ranger through the hydraulic lifts and into the bluish green sea water.  Overhead, the crew of the Benthic Ranger could see the bright white shimmer of the ocean surface.  The color gradually changed to a deeper and deeper blue as one looked downward.

Once free of the launch platform, Graham trimmed the diving planes on the submersible and began a rather steep decline.

Mike, who was experiencing the new generation of Benthic Ranger for the first time, was being given a special treat.  No longer were the trips to the bottom long, drawn-out spirals.  The trip to the bottom lasted about 15 minutes.

The Watch Station looked normal except for the imploded stores module.  However, both Benthic Rangers were missing from their moorings.  Before going to the Watch Station, the Benthic Ranger made a slow orbit around the Sentinel using both forward scanning sonar and high resolution television to search for the Benthic Rangers and to record the search.  With its mercury vapor floodlights on, a fairly large area of the bottom could be explored at one time.

Mike, more used to a limited view, was fascinated by the broad vistas available to the crew of these new Benthic Rangers.  He had not been on a Benthic Ranger since the mid-seventies, the last time Mike had been on a tour of active sea duty.  The seriousness of the mission did not diminish the awe Mike felt for these new machines.

"Wait a minute, did you see that?" said Mike, as he pointed out the shadowy object at the fringe of the lighted area.  Graham brought the Benthic Ranger to a quick stop by reversing the rear propeller.

"Shine the light about ten degrees left," said Mike.

The tension in the Benthic Ranger was palpable; no one spoke a word as the mercury vapor floodlight was electrically swung toward the object that Mike thought he saw.  As the object came into view, a collective expletive was uttered in the Benthic Ranger.  The light now brilliantly illuminated the crushed shell of
Benthic Ranger One
, lying quietly on the bottom, as a newly slain deer might lie in the forest on soft pine needles in freshly fallen snow.

Graham started to move forward when Mike stopped him.  "We should run a radiation scan first, Jeff."

"John, run a profile."

"Aye, aye, sir," responded Bell as he switched on the detection instrumentation.  "Negative scan."

Graham pushed the throttle forward and the Benthic Ranger slowly moved toward the hulk of
Benthic Ranger One
.

"Alex, get Jason ready for deployment."

"Aye, aye, sir."  Broward turned on the electric motors of Jason, ran through the operational sequences for the flood lamp, the video camera, the video recorder, and Jason's instrumentation package.

"Captain, Jason is ready for deployment."  Regardless of his actual rank, Chief Warrant Officer Jeff Graham was the captain of the Benthic Ranger and was thusly referred to in communications with crew.

"Deploy."

"Jason deployed."

The small robot left its cradle on a bracket in front of the Benthic Ranger, its small propellers whirring noisily.  As it left the cradle, it dragged its control cable like an umbilical cord.  Mike and Mannington gathered around Broward as the seaman operated the toggle control stick like an arcade game.  The black and white television monitor flickered perceptibly as the images were relayed back through the control cable.

As Jason snaked its way through the broken front window into the hulk of the disabled Benthic Ranger, the bodies of Dirks and O'Shaunnessy came into view.  The results of the sudden compression were evident in the contorted features of the two deceased men.  The results were not pretty.  The sudden compression had crushed any structure that had contained air at atmospheric pressure, including lungs and bony structures such as nasal passages.  The scavengers of the deep had already started their work.  Mike often wondered how these creatures gathered so quickly.

"Okay, we've seen enough."  Dr. Fleming had joined the viewers when Mike said that the crew of
Benthic Ranger One
was on the television screen.

Broward retracted Jason from the wreckage and returned it to its cradle.  Graham backed the Benthic Ranger off the wreckage and turned toward the Watch Station.

Within minutes the Benthic Ranger was hovering over the entrance lock of the transfer module of Watch Station Three.  Repeatedly, Graham pushed the hailing button in an attempt to turn on the homing beacon that would enable him to lock on to the station.  There was no response.

"Shit." muttered Graham.  "Mr. Bell, activate the standby on-board homing beacon."

The standby on-board homing beacon was an active sonar with a narrowly focused beam.  It was designed to find a small parabolic echo enhancing receiver located on the center of the hatchway on the transfer lock.  A clumsy, Stone Age means of finding the target, it was the Benthic Ranger's last chance to lock on to the station.

Bell also turned on the television camera and mercury vapor lamp located in the Benthic Ranger's transfer lock.  As Bell switched on the television camera, the video monitor located on the instrument panel of the Benthic Ranger came to life.  Graham used the combination of the video and the locking sonar to position the Benthic Ranger over the entrance lock.

Listening to the increasingly accelerating pings of the locking sonar, Graham was able to slowly lower the Benthic Ranger on to the lock.  The soft metallic clang of Benthic Ranger's landing echoed through the deserted interior of Watch Station Three.  He engaged the latching dogs and seated the O-ring seals with a soft hissing of the seals' pressure mounting system.  Afterward, Graham blew out the sea water in the transfer lock and adjusted the pressure inside the lock to atmospheric.

Bell hurried over to the hatchway and opened the hatch to the transfer lock.  He lowered himself into the lock and started to manually unlock the hatch to the Watch Station.

"Hold on a minute," said Dr. Fleming.  "We don't know what's down there.  Is there any way to check the atmosphere in the Watch Station before we open the hatch?"

Graham came over to the hatchway.  "Wait a minute, John.  Let me get the gas analyzer and some wrenches.  One of the through hull-instrumentation ports might serve that purpose."

In a second, Graham was back with a socket wrench, a crescent wrench, a small handheld gas analyzer, and an emergency oxygen mask.  He handed the apparatus to Bell and then closed the Benthic Ranger's hatch, sealing Bell in the entrance lock, which was roughly the height of a 55-gallon barrel and about one and one-half times the diameter.

With the mercury vapor lamp of the Benthic Ranger still on, Bell had ample light to work with in the cramped space.  Bell put on the emergency oxygen breathing unit and went to work loosening one of the through hull penetration lines with the crescent wrench.  He then used the socket wrench to remove the actual through hull penetration nut.

Once he had gained access to the atmosphere of the Watch Station, he inserted the gas analyzer probe, a thin stainless steel needle into the port.  He tested for carbon monoxide, oxygen, carbon dioxide, poisonous gases, neurotoxins, and radioactivity.  The instrument indicated no radioactivity and an otherwise normal atmosphere.  Bell removed the probe and replaced the through-hull penetration nut.  He did not bother to reconnect the instrumentation wires.

"Captain, everything seems normal," said Bell as he emerged from the transfer lock.

"Okay."

"I think that Captain Mannington and I should go first," Mike said.  "Then Dr. Fleming and Seaman Broward can follow.  I think that Graham and Bell should remain on board the Benthic Ranger and keep everything operating in case we have to get out of here in a hurry."  He checked his Walther and then re-holstered it.  Mannington and Broward also carried firearms, although actually firing any gun at this depth could have catastrophic results.

Mike crawled into the transfer lock and opened the hatch to the station.  The rush of air from the station was foul, a mixture of metallic and rubber smells intermingled with lubricating oil smells, epoxy resin smell, staleness, reeking excrement smells and rotting organic matter.  Mike gagged, but continued to climb down into the dark interior of the transfer module, the sound of his boots on the metal ladder echoed through the darkness.

The only light in the darkened interior was the beam from Mike's flashlight.  Mannington was the next member of the team to reach the deck of the transfer module.

"We should try to get the electricity on, Mike."

"I'm not sure we should do that.  If Messinger followed procedures, this station could be rigged to explode."

"Let me get some light from the Benthic Ranger then," said Mannington.

Calling up to the Benthic Ranger, Mannington shouted, "Hey, John could you toss down some electric cord and a light?"  The sound of Mannington's voice bounced around the still chamber and echoed throughout the Watch Station.

The added light helped Mike and Mannington make a thorough inspection of the transfer module, firearms at the ready.  Completing that inspection, Mike and Mannington found enough electric cord to extend their range to the command module and to several other modules as well.  Dr. Fleming and Broward joined Mike and Mannington after the two CSAC staffers had cleared the transfer module.

The station had been abruptly abandoned.  It looked as if the crew had just gotten up and walked away to come back again after lunch.  In one of the crew quarters, magazines sat open to the last page viewed.  In the wet analysis laboratory, a chemical titration stood in mid-experiment.  A mortar and pestle silently sat waiting for the chemist's mate to continue his grinding.  A laboratory scale waited for a final adjustment.  There just weren't any people.

And through it all was the silence that bore witness to some unknown tragedy.

The four-person boarding party gathered in the command module.

"What do you make of it, Mike?" said Dr. Fleming.

"It looks as if Messinger gave the orders to abandon the station in quick order," said Mike as he looked around the command module, itself as orderly as if waiting for Captain Messinger to return momentarily.