Trojan Odyssey (17 page)

“All will be waiting when you arrive.”

Then Pitt wrote on his slate and held it up in front of the view port:

HANG IN. BACK IN 10 MINUTES.

Then he and Giordino rose out of sight and vanished above.

 

W
HEN PITT AND
Giordino ascended to the surface and vanished from view, it was as though a rainstorm had fallen on a surprise birthday party out on a lawn. Their hopes had soared at seeing their father and his best friend, but with them gone everything turned bleak again.

“I wish they hadn't left,” Summer said softly.

“Not to worry. They know the score on our air. They'll be back before you know it.”

“How do you suppose they're going to get us out?” Summer wondered aloud.

“If anybody can pull off a miracle, Dad and Al can.”

She looked at the needle on the air tank gauge. It was quivering agonizingly closer to the end. “They'd better do it quick,” she murmured softly.

 

B
ARNUM HAD THE
spare tanks and the Morphon underwater drill waiting as Pitt rushed back to the ship. Expertly turning the speeding boat on a dime, Pitt brought the boat to an abrupt stop beside the ramp.

“Thank you, Paul,” he said.

“I aim to please,” Barnum replied, with a tight smile.

No sooner was the gear stowed on board than Pitt jammed the throttles forward and charged back to the buoy floating over
Pisces.

Lelasi threw out an anchor, as Pitt and Giordino adjusted their full face masks and fell over backward into the water. Pitt had not inflated his buoyancy compensator to obtain neutral buoyancy with the heavy twenty-pound Morphon drill. He allowed its mass to drag him to the bottom in little less than a minute, equalizing his ears as he descended. As soon as his feet were firmly planted in the sandy bottom of the crevasse, he pressed the circular cutting edge of the drill against the view port.

Before he switched the drill to rotate, he peered inside. Summer looked like she was semiconscious. Dirk waved feebly. Swiftly, Pitt laid aside the drill and wrote on his slate:

WILL DRILL HOLE FOR AIR
TANKS. STAY CLEAR OF
INCOMING TORRENT.

With precious few minutes to spare, Pitt pushed the drill against the view port and squeezed the trigger, hoping against hope the bit would penetrate the transparent material with nearly the tensile strength of steel. The whirring sound of the drill motor, magnified underwater, and the rasp of the bit as it attacked the view port startled every fish within a hundred yards and sent them darting throughout the reef.

Pitt leaned against the drill and pushed with every muscle in his legs and arms. He was thankful when Giordino dug his knees into the sand, hunched beneath Pitt and placed his hands on the forward, cylindrical section of the drill, adding his strength to the effort.

Minute crawled after minute as the two men leaned against the drill with all their might. They didn't talk to each other. They didn't have to. Each had read the other's mind for more than forty years. They worked like a matched pair of draft horses.

Pitt bordered on frantic when he could see no more movement within the habitat. The deeper into the view port the bit bored, the faster it penetrated. At last Pitt and Giordino felt it burst through. They instantly jerked the drill back. Almost before Pitt could switch it off, Giordino was shoving an air tank and a regulator through the ten-inch-diameter round hole, helped by the water that forced it into the lower air pressure inside.

Pitt wanted to shout for his kids to react, but they could not have heard him. He could see that Summer made no effort to move. He was starting to retrieve the drill to enlarge the hole enough to crawl through, when Dirk weakly reached out for the regulator and clamped his teeth on the mouthpiece. Two deep breaths and he became aroused to normalcy again. He immediately and gently eased the mouthpiece between Summer's lips.

Pitt wanted to cheer in euphoria when he saw Summer's eyes flutter open and her chest began to rise and fall. Though the inrush of water was rapidly filling the interior of the habitat, they now had more than enough air to breathe. He and Giordino picked up the drill again and attacked the view port in an effort to enlarge the hole big enough for the two inside to escape. There was no feverish effort this time. They took turns widening the opening until the circular cuts had grown into a four-leaf clover broad enough for a body to slip through.

“Paul,” Pitt called on his headphone.

“I'm listening,” Barnum answered.

“The hyperbaric chamber?”

“Ready to receive them the minute they come on board.”

“At what depth and how long have they been down on
Pisces
?”

“They've been pressurized at sixty feet for three days and fourteen hours.”

“Then they'll need at least fifteen hours of decompression.”

“Whatever time it takes,” said Barnum. “I have an expert on hyperbaric medicine on board. He'll compute their decompression time.”

Giordino signaled that he had finished drilling the final hole. The interior of the habitat was nearly filled with water now, the condensed air pressure restricting the flow. He reached in, took Summer by the hand and pulled her outside. Dirk passed through one of the air tanks. Summer started to wrap her arms around it and inhale through the mouthpiece of the regulator. Then, suddenly, she waved her hands in a wait signal and disappeared back inside the habitat. She quickly reappeared, clutching her notebooks, computer disks and the digital camera in a watertight plastic bag. Giordino took her by the arm and led her up to the surface.

Dirk came next with the second spare tank. Pitt gave him a quick embrace before they ascended together toward the only remaining inflatable. No sooner were the brother and sister pulled safely into the boat than Cristiano pushed the throttles forward and sped off toward the research ship. Pitt and Giordino, saving a couple of minutes by not climbing aboard too, remained in the water and pushed themselves clear before being chopped by the spinning propellers.

When Lelasi returned and picked them up, Pitt's son and daughter were already inside the hyperbaric chamber. The basis behind decompression sickness, or what is known as the bends, is that under normal air pressure the body respires most of its excess nitrogen. However, under increasing pressure as a diver descends, nitrogen increases in the bloodstream. As a diver ascends and the surrounding water pressure decreases, pure nitrogen bubbles form in the blood and eventually become too large to pass through tissue. In order for the bubbles to diffuse and pass through lung tissue, the diver must sit inside a chamber that very slowly decreases pressure while breathing one hundred percent oxygen.

Dirk and Summer passed the long hours inside the chamber reading and writing reports on their findings about the dying coral and the brown crud, as well as recording their impressions of the cavern with the ancient artifacts, all while being monitored by the hyperbaric physician.

 

T
HE STARS GLITTERED
like diamonds and the lights of the high-rise condominiums beamed as
Sea Sprite
sailed into Fort Lauderdale's Port Everglades, one of the busiest deepwater ports in the world. The research ship's deck lights blazed as she slowly sailed past a long line of luxury cruise ships loading passengers and supplies for a morning departure. Alerted by the Coast Guard, every ship in the harbor blew three blasts of their whistles and air horns in salute as
Sprite
passed on her way to the NUMA dock facilities.

Her epic rescue of the
Ocean Wanderer
and her thousand guests forty-eight hours earlier was worldwide news. Pitt dreaded the media reception that would be waiting at the dock. He leaned over the railing on the bow and watched the black water, streaked by flashes of light that sparkled white off the bow. He became aware of a figure beside him, and he turned and looked into the smiling face of his son. It never ceased to amaze him that it was like looking into a mirror of himself twenty-five years ago.

“What do you think they'll do with her?” Dirk asked.

Pitt's eyebrows raised. “Do with what?”

“Pisces.”

“The decision whether to salvage her or not rests with Admiral Sandecker. Getting a barge with a crane over the coral might prove impossible. And even if it could be done, pulling sixty-five tons of deadweight up through the narrow confines of the crevasse might prove cost-prohibitive. Chances are the admiral may simply write it off.”

“I wish I could have been there to see you and Al drag the lines tied to the hotel's mooring cables to
Sea Sprite.
”

Pitt smiled. “I doubt if either one of us would volunteer to attempt it again.”

It was Dirk's turn to smile. “I'd have to bet against you on that one.”

Pitt turned and leaned his back against the railing. “Are you and Summer fully recuperated?”

“We passed our balance and comparative sensitivity tests with flying colors and have no sign of aftereffects.”

“Different symptoms can turn up days or weeks later. Better you and your sister take it easy for a while. In the meantime, if you're so anxious for something to do, I'll give you a chore.”

Dirk gave his dad a suspicious look. “Like what?”

“I'll arrange a meeting with St. Julien Perlmutter. You two can work with him to come up with answers about those ancient artifacts you found on Navidad Bank.”

“We really need to go back and further investigate what we found in the cavern.”

“That can also be arranged,” Pitt assured him. “But all in good time. There's no deadline.”

“And the brown crud that's killing the sea life around the bank?” Dirk persisted. “It can't be ignored.”

“Another NUMA expedition with a new crew and different research ship will be assembled to return and study the scourge.”

Dirk turned and looked across the port at the lights dancing on the water. “I wish we had more time to spend together,” he said wistfully.

“How about a fishing trip in the north woods of Canada?” Pitt suggested.

“Sounds good to me.”

“I'll work on Sandecker. After what we all achieved in the past few days, I don't think he'll deny us a little time off for pleasure.”

Giordino and Summer came and joined them at the railing, waving to the ships they passed that signaled their praise for a job well done. The
Sprite
rounded a bend and the NUMA dock came into view. As Pitt feared, it was crowded with TV vans and reporters.

Barnum eased the ship alongside the dock, the lines were thrown down and looped on the bollards. Then the boarding ramp was lowered. Admiral James Sandecker charged onto the ship like a fox chasing a chicken. He almost looked like a fox with his narrow features, flaming red hair and Vandyke beard. He was followed by the deputy director of NUMA, Rudi Gunn, the administrative genius behind the agency.

Barnum greeted the admiral as he stepped on board. “Welcome aboard, Admiral. I didn't expect to see you.”

Sandecker waved an arm airily over the dock and mob of newspeople and beamed. “I wouldn't have missed this for the world.” Then he vigorously shook Barnum's hand. “A magnificent job, Captain. All NUMA is proud of you and your crew.”

“It was a team effort,” Barnum said humbly. “Without the heroic transfer of the mooring cables by Pitt and Giordino, the
Ocean Wanderer
would have surely smashed onto the rocks.”

Sandecker spotted Pitt and Giordino and walked over to them. “Well,” he said testily, “another day, another dollar. You two never seem able to stay out of trouble.”

Pitt knew that was the finest compliment the admiral would pay him. “Let's just say that we were lucky to have been on a project off Puerto Rico when Heidi Lisherness called from our hurricane center in Key West and described the situation.”

“Thank God you were able fly to the scene in time to help avert a major tragedy,” said Gunn. He was a short little man with thick horn-rim glasses, blessed with a friendly disposition, a man whom everyone immediately liked.

“Luck played a major role,” Giordino said unpretentiously.

Dirk and Summer approached and were greeted by Sandecker. “You two seem fit after your ordeal.”

“If Dad and Al hadn't gotten us out of
Pisces
when they did,” said Summer, “we wouldn't be standing here.”

Sandecker's smile seemed cynical, but his eyes were filled with pride. “Yes, it seems that good-deed-doer's work never ends.”

“Which brings me to a request,” said Pitt.

“Request denied,” replied Sandecker, reading his mind. “You people can put in for a restful vacation as soon as you finish the next project.”

Giordino stared sullenly at the admiral. “You're an evil old man.”