From the Deep (2 page)

“Maybe we can-”

“It’s over. We need to get off the boat, right now.”

“What happened?”

“Something hit us. Something big.”

“Boat?”

“No, I don’t think so. Call it in and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Goddamn it,” Sam spat as he sent the distress signal and followed his brother below deck.

Mackay and Rainwater were already suited up and had the self-inflating lifeboat ready to go. Joey and Sam hurried towards them, having to lean against the angle of the boat in order to stay on their feet.

“Come on, let’s go,” Joey said, as Sam looked around.

“Where’s Grimshaw?”

The men looked at each other, expressions blank and frightened.

“Get that raft in the water,” Sam said as he turned back towards the hatch.

“You can’t go down there, it’s probably full of water by now. It’s too dangerous.” Joey yelled above the wind.

“I’m not leaving anyone behind,” he said, as he ran for the door and headed below deck.

The three men stood and looked at each other, and then to Joey, who as deck boss was now in charge.

“Do as he says,” Joey said as he stepped out of his survival suit and headed after his brother.

Rainwater went to follow, when Mackay put a hand on his shoulder.

“Not you too. Come on, we need to get this thing into the water. I can’t do it on my own.”

Rainwater helped Mackay haul the self-inflating life raft across the deck.

“How long do we wait?” Rainwater shouted, trying to ignore how close the water was to spilling over onto the deck of the boat.

“Give them a few minutes then we—”

A huge explosion rocked the vessel from below, launching the rear of the boat out of the water as deck boards exploded into the air.

“We need to get into the water now!” Mackay yelled as the boat began to sink, the water finally clawing its way over the rail.

Smoke billowed out of the stairwell leading below deck, and from between the boards, flames licked at their feet as they were fed by the wind.

“My dad…” Rainwater said quietly, as Mackay pulled the ring to inflate the circular ten-foot rubber boat.

“He’s gone,” Mackay yelled as he dropped the lifeboat into the water. The vessel was now dipping, its stern dropping below the water line as the bow started to lift.

“I can save him, I—”

Mackay grabbed Rainwater by the shoulders of his survival suit and shook him.

“They are all gone, now get in the fucking raft!”

Rainwater hesitated, staring into the billowing black smoke.

“Come on dammit! When it goes, it’ll go quick.”

Rainwater hopped into the raft. Mackay followed, and the pair clung on as they were tossed about the ocean. They watched in silence as the
Red Gold
slipped beneath the waves, taking three of its crew with it.

Aboard the
Neptune
, Andrews hurried through the narrow corridors towards the bridge. Smeet was listening to the radio as he tried to pilot the huge ship through the storm.

“Why have we changed course?”

Smeet glanced at Andrews and was barely able to hide his disgust.

“We picked up a distress signal from a crabber a few miles from here. They need our assistance.”

“This is a private charter. Let someone else attend to it.”

“There are potentially people in the water, and we’re the nearest ship for fifty miles.”

“If some fool was stupid enough to get his ship sunk, I don’t see why
my
time and money should pay for them to be plucked out of the sea.”

“They could die from hypothermia if they have fallen into the water. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“I don’t care what you want. What
I
want is for you to stick to the course I instructed. ”

Smeet glared at Andrews, who took a compensatory step back.

“Well, in that case, let me tell you how it will go. We’re going to pick up these people who need our help, and then I’m going to turn this boat around and take you back to port, where I want you off my ship.”

“You were paid, in full, and in advance I might add,” Andrews sneered.

“Oh, you will get your money back. Every damn penny. As of now, consider yourself an unwelcome guest on board my ship.”

“Do you know who I am?” Andrews said, glaring at the captain as the colour flushed his cheeks. “This mission is too important to deviate from.”

“Maybe to you,” Smeet said with a disgusted smile, “but not to me.”

“You can’t do this, I’ll talk to my superiors, they will—”

“Look, asshole, you might be some big shot government stooge, but frankly, I don’t give a shit. This is
my
ship.
I’m
the captain, and
I
say we are going to help these people. If you don’t like it, you can either start swimming or spend the rest of the trip confined to your quarters. It’s up to you.”

Andrews glared at the captain, his cheek twitching as he processed the information.

“Okay, captain, I suppose you seafaring folk are compelled to stick together. I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I do wonder if we would be wise to venture into seas that have already capsized one vessel.”

Smeet shook his head. “You didn’t seem too concerned about dangerous conditions earlier. Besides, it sounds like it might have been contact with another ship.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The radio message said something hit them.”

Andrews gave Smeet his full attention.

“Where did this happen?”

“A few miles due east of here. Coast Guard is grounded due to the weather so it looks like we’re their best chance.”

Andrews nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities.

“The message was clear, and it couldn’t have been one of these rogue waves you mentioned earlier?”

Smeet shook his head “No, they were clear. They said something big hit them broadside. My guess is another boat got too close, although I would have expected them to throw a distress signal out too.”

“What do you think it might be?”

“If you shut up and let me get to the survivors, you can ask them yourself.”

Two slow hours passed in the rubber lifeboat. Rainwater looked at Mackay, who was sitting with his chin on his chest. He hadn’t spoken for some time, and the bloody wound on his face had dried into a matted crust. Rainwater wanted to close his eyes, if only for a moment to take away some of the agony that had invaded his body. He was numb, his lips trembling as the boat was pushed wherever the tides chose to send it. He had activated the survival suit’s transponder, which would give their location to any ships that came close enough.  Now, all he wanted was to sleep, to close his eyes for a moment and rest.

He forced himself to focus, to pick a spot and stare at it. He chose his right foot, trying not to look beyond it at the dizzying, vertigo inducing motion of the lifeboat. His thoughts tried as best they could to wade through the thick soup that had invaded his brain. In his mind’s eye, he could see the immense wake and the grey-green back of whatever had ploughed into them.  He had seen something that defied belief, and knew now that the seas were no place for man. He lapsed into unconsciousness moments before the searchlights of the
Neptune
illuminated the life raft.

CHAPTER 4

Unnamed government facility

Washington D.C.

Andrews walked through the corridors of the vast grey building that officially didn’t exist. It had no address, no registered owner, and no official title. A modest two stories high at street level, it also extended deep below the surface, acting as one of several secret locations designed to hold the president and his cabinet in case of emergency. He approached the unmarked elevator, giving a cursory glance to the multitude of security cameras that watched his every move. Shuffling his mountain of folders into one arm, he swiped his ID card through the reader at its side and placed his hand on the discreet panel beneath. Reading his palm print, the system opened the elevator doors and allowed him access. He waited as the doors closed and carried him to his destination eight floors below.

This meeting was a make or break. He was sure he had enough supporting evidence to convince his superiors. Despite the public opinion about alien conspiracies and knowledge of the existence of E.T., the actual and infinitely less interesting fact was that the government didn’t believe in such things and were a stuffy, hard to convince bunch who cared only about politics, wars, and money.

The doors hissed open and Andrews was stopped at a security station where he was frisked for anything that could be construed as a dangerous weapon. Passing the checks, he was handed back his folders and allowed to proceed. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he took a deep breath and entered the meeting room, striding purposefully to the front. He set his double arm full of paperwork on the desk, and then paused, looking at the four men who were watching him with cold indifference.

“Gentlemen, my name is Doctor Martin Andrews, and I’m here today to talk to you about the situation to which by now, you all have been briefed, at least in a preliminary fashion.”

The men looked back impassively.

Tough crowd
, he thought to himself as he went on.

“Back in 1997, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration detected an underwater signal, which was unlike anything ever recorded before. The signal was picked up by an array of deep water hydrophones designed primarily to monitor seismic activity. We dubbed it, The Bloop.”

“What’s so unusual about it?” asked a white haired, grey-eyed general, who was both cold and unreadable.

“Our analysis, which was concurrent with NOAA’s own research, showed that the sound was thought to be organic in nature.”

“Surely that’s nothing unusual. The ocean is full of life,” said the secretary of the defence, his tone implying that his time was being wasted.

“That’s true, sir,” Andrews said, “however, nothing about this signal was normal.”

Andrews paused for effect, but if his audience was captivated, they were doing a great job of hiding it. He continued.

“This… ‘Bloop’, was thoroughly analysed and concluded to be not only organic, but made by a creature far larger than any species we currently know of.”

“How big exactly?” the white haired major asked, his eyes showing a flicker of interest.

“Well, sir, if you imagine the blue whale is the largest known creature to inhabit the oceans at somewhere between eighty five and ninety feet, based on the signal we recorded, this creature would have to be at least three times that length.”

“Are you saying this is some kind of god-damn dinosaur?” a thin, wiry man said from behind oversized glasses.

“No, not a dinosaur. An unknown species.”

“Dr Andrews,” the secretary of defence said, “if this is as big as you say it is, why has nobody ever seen it? Why has its presence not been felt? What I’m asking is how can this one encounter back in 97’, lead you to such a speculative conclusion?”

“Well, sir, until a few weeks ago, we were prepared to dismiss the Bloop as an anomaly. Maybe an ice quake of some kind, or an expulsion of gas escaping from a rupture on the seabed. However, recent events came to light that changed things, which is why I come to you now.”

“Go on,” the major said, now giving his full attention to Andrews.

“Back in September, a huge portion of the Ross ice shelf in Antarctica fell into the sea. We believe the force of impact as the ice hit the water and the subsequent vibrations stirred the creature from some kind of long term hibernation”

“Forgive me, Doctor,” the secretary of defence said with a smug grin, “I fail to see how this is anything other than speculation and fantasy. If you want to convince us, we need facts.”

“I was getting to that, sir.”

Andrews took a breath and continued.

“As I was saying, we think this creature was roused by the falling ice shelf from some kind of hibernation. Following the quake, we recorded another sound in the area that was at the same frequency of the Bloop. Later, partial remains of a killer whale were discovered close to where the signal emanated from.”

“The ocean is a big place, surely you can’t speculate that this creature killed the whale. It could have been a shark, or even another whale.” The thin man in glasses said as he shot an agitated look towards the secretary of defence.

“Forgive my bluntness, sir,” Andrews said, “but we do know. We recovered the carcass. Its entire lower half was missing. No shark would be able to do that. We also measured the bite radius of some of the wounds on the Orca, and although there was some decomposition and the feeding of other smaller scavengers to consider, the findings were astonishing.”

“And what were they?” the general said, folding his hands on the desk.

“Well, sir, we estimate this creature would have a bite radius of around eighteen to twenty five feet.

“Impossible,” the general said, rolling his wedding ring around his finger, “that’s very hard to believe, Dr Andrews.”

“I agree, but please, allow me to finish. Immediately following the ice quake, countless species of whales and fish altered their normal migratory and feeding patterns. When we analysed the changes, it was evident that all species from the smallest fish to the largest whales were trying to avoid something.  A few weeks ago, I was on board the research vessel Neptune in the Bering Sea, attempting to track the source of the disturbance when a distress signal came in from a stricken fishing boat reporting something had hit them. We of course abandoned the search and responded. By the time we arrived, the boat had sunk, we did manage to find a life raft floating nearby which contained two survivors. Both men were hypothermic and close to death, however, one of them was mumbling about a monster that hit the boat.”

“Did they survive?” The major asked.

“Yes. Both men were taken to a hospital in Anchorage for treatment and have since been released. The rest of the crew went down with the ship.”

“Dr Andrews,” the secretary of defence said, glaring at the scientist, “this still proves nothing. Talk of maybes and wild speculation isn’t something that we are able to work with. What exactly are you expecting us to do?”

“I need finance to pull together a team and a ship to go to find this creature. To study it.”

“Do you see this endeavour as a valuable use of government money?”

“Well, actually, I do sir. More so than the wars you continue to fund.”

He regretted saying it immediately, and knew he had screwed up his chance. The secretary’s face flushed, and he glared at Andrews as he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Well, fortunately for you, Mr Andrews, how that money is spent is a decision made way above your pay grade. For the record, I think you have seen one too many monster movies.”

“If you don’t do this, it will be a huge mistake. There is so much to learn here,” Andrews said.

“I appreciate your warning, but you are wrong.”

“No he isn’t.”

All eyes went to the only man at the table who had so far remained silent. He was slim, with black hair and a thin face. His eyes were dark, and he watched those around the table with palpable self-confidence.

“Who the hell are you?” the secretary of defence asked, as the man stood and walked to the front of the room, clasping his hands behind his back.

“My name is Russo, and I’m here to tell you that Dr Andrews is correct in everything he has said.”

“Might I ask how you know this?” the secretary snapped, clearly not liking having his feathers ruffled.

“I’m afraid I don’t answer to you.”

“This is ridiculous, I have top level clearance.”

Russo shrugged, and held the older man’s gaze.

“I understand that, Mr Secretary. Please try to understand that
everybody
answers to somebody. For now, I would appreciate it if you would be quiet and let me explain.”

Russo returned to his seat and picked up a stack of folders sealed with the presidential crest, handing everyone around the table a copy and giving the final one to Andrews.

“Now, gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to open those documents, I will explain all about Project Blue and how it ties in to the funding Dr Andrews is requesting.”