Chapter No. 12 The Pale Horse

End of the tenth day: Eric climbed out of the mini-sub and immediately knew that something was wrong. The air in the docking bay didn't have its usual heavy feel. At a depth of 200 meters, the pressure in the bay should be higher than 1300 millibars. The gauge read 750. He didn't need the gauge. His rapid breathing was a biological indicator.
He offered his wife an assisting hand.

She also noticed the difference. "What's wrong? The pressure's too low."

Eric looked over the ledge railing at a depth gauge running up the side of the docking tank. "The water's rising. Maybe the docking doors didn't close completely."

"That doesn't make any sense. The warning indicator light isn't lit."

"Maybe the light is burnt out. All I know is that the water's rising."

He rushed over to the hatch and tried to turn the wheel. "I can't budge it. Must be locked."

"It's always locked when the docking doors are open."

Eric pointed at the intercom on the far wall. "Get on the horn and tell them to let us out of here."

She scampered to the intercom and punched the talk button. "This is Margaret Hauptman down in the docking bay. The water's leaking in and we're trapped."

No answer.

She pressed the talk button several times. "Hello! Hello!" She turned to her husband. "I can't make contact."

Eric rushed over to her side. "Here. Let me try it."

"It doesn't work," she said, her voice and her face showing offense.

Eric didn't say anything. He removed the cover and began moving wires. "Hmm."

"What is it?"

"Someone removed the main chip. It won't work without it."

"I already told you that it doesn't work. Knowing why won't help."

"I realize that, Love, but it tells me that someone sabotaged it, that it's not just a simple failure."

"Wonderful. Now what are we going to do?"

Eric pointed at the mini-sub. "We could get back in our sub and go back out."

"I don't think so. There's very little air left in the tanks. Remember?"

"Oh shit. I forgot." He looked down at the water lapping at his feet. "We're sunk, literally."

Margaret started toward the hatch. "I'm going to try the door again. Maybe if I bang on it, someone will hear me."

Eric smashed his fist on the useless intercom. "I don't get this. They have to know that we would be returning. Can't they see that the water's leaking in?"

"Maybe they're not paying attention," his wife shouted from the hatch. She tried the latch wheel but it wouldn't budge, so she banged her fist against the hatch.

"They'll never hear that, Love. Try using this pipe wrench." He tossed it to her.

She caught it and began wailing on the latch.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She held her ear near the door but heard nothing. She repeated her desperate attention-getting action several times to no avail.

"Damn them, anyway. What the hell is everybody doing: sleeping?"

"Come on, Love. We have to get higher."

Margaret's face muscles tightened when she saw that the water level was up to her waist. "What about the tank rack. There should be some full tanks."

"I checked them. They're all empty."

She swam over to her husband, who was now hanging on to a ladder that hugged the outside wall.

"That's ridiculous," she said. "There are always some tanks full of air. Sally is good about that . . . usually."

"You're right, Love. Obviously, someone emptied them."

"I'd like to catch this 'someone' and give them a knuckle pie."

"You and me both." He looked at the rapidly rising water. "Right now, I've got other concerns--like drowning."

"Margaret looked at the three deep submersibles. "What about those? Couldn't we get inside one?"

Eric's eyes widened. "You're right!" His expression hardened when he saw how fast the water was rising. "But, we had better make it fast."

They quickly swam over to the closest submersible, the Deep Star. Eric struggled with the latch wheel of the entrance hatch, a round metal disk on top of a 14-inch thick hollow ball of lexan that constituted the passenger compartment of the deep-diving sub. "I hope there's air in the tanks of this beast."

"If we don't get in soon, we won't have to worry about it."

"I'm turning as fast as I can, Love."

The latch finally popped. Eric helped his wife slither through the small hole. He followed her and wasted no time in securing the hatch just as the water sloshed over the top of the compartment.

"Any air in the tanks?"

Margaret checked the main gauge. "Yep. Plenty."

Their eyes met and they both breathed sighs of relief.

Margaret settled into the pilot seat. "Lucky for us, whoever did this forgot about the air in the deep submersibles."

"The question is: why did they do it?"

"I think the more important question is: who did it?"

Eric rubbed his beard. "You're right, Love. We have a saboteur on board. We'll have to be careful."

"No kidding. What we need to do is figure out who it is."

"Easier said than done. It could be anybody."

Her brow wrinkled. "You don't think that it's Stevens, do you?"

Eric stared out at the dim glow of light outside the plastic walls of their prison. "Nah. George wouldn't do anything as stupid as this. He's just a grouch--more bark than bite."

"If it's not him, then who?"

"Maybe it's not the staff. Maybe it's someone in the crew."

"The crew?"

"Think about it, Love. If they were brazen enough to kidnap you, why not brazen enough to place an operative on board masquerading as a crew member."

Margaret slouched down into her chair. "It's cold in here. Can't we contact the control room from here?"

"The radio won't work inside the ship. We'll just have to wait until they realize something's wrong."

"My employment contract doesn't say anything about this kind of shit. Somebody's trying to kill us and we have no idea why."

"Come on, Love. It has to be the creatures. They don't want us to find them."

"That's ridiculous. We haven't found them yet, and I doubt we ever will. If they want them that badly, why don't they find them themselves?"

Eric continued to stare out at the dim light filtering through water that now filled the docking bay. "Good question."

###

Captain Stubens paused at Henry's navigation station and noticed the concern in his navigator's face. "What's the matter?"

"I'm getting strange readings from the docking bay. Everyone should be back but the indicators show that the bay is flooded."

"That doesn't make sense. Are the outside doors closed?"

"The indicator shows that they are."

Stubens punched the intercom page button. "Miller?"

After a few minutes. "Miller here."

"Check out the docking bay. We're getting conflicting readings here."

"Aye, Captain."

Stubens punched the page button again. "Eric or Margaret Hauptman." He repeated the page several times but received no response.

"That's strange. They should be back by now."

"Dr. Stevens. Dr. Stevens." His voice was strained now. Malfunctions aggravated him. He preferred a well-oiled, well-run, ship. When things go wrong it reflects on his ability to command, and he doesn't like that one bit.

Five minutes later.

"Dr. Stevens. What is it?"

"Have you seen the Hauptman's?"

"No I haven't. Aren't they still off wasting Institute money?"

Stubens' face muscles tightened.

I don't need this now.

"They should be back by now."

"Maybe something happened to them out there."

"Yes. That's a possibility."

Carl Schneider, the first officer and pilot, looked up at the Captain. He had a mustache like Henry, but his was trimmed neatly. The only other hair on his head was around the sides and back. His burly build offset his oval face.

"I don't like the sound of that," Carl said, shaking his head.

Stubens rubbed his beard for several seconds and then turned to him. "Take us up to periscope depth."

Carl punched buttons and adjusted levers. Hissing noises and then upward movement.

Several minutes later, Carl made the big announcement: "Coming to periscope depth."

The intercom buzzed. Stubens pressed the answer button. "Control room."

"Miller reporting. The docking bay's flooded, Captain. It shouldn't be. If everybody came back, the doors should be closed and the water pumped out."

"Agreed. However, the Hauptman's are not on board."

"I don't understand?"

"What do you mean?" Stubens asked.

"They should be on board. I can see their sub."

Stubens turned to Henry. "Try pumping out the bay."

Henry flicked two switches. "Docking bay pumps are activated."

"Do you see the water level dropping," Stubens said into the intercom.

"No, Captain. Nothing's happening."

"Are the docking bay doors closed?" Stubens asked Henry.

"The indicator says that they are. The computer says the opposite."

Stubens paced a few steps before he stopped and threw his arms up. "Damn it, anyway."

He turned to Carl. "Surface. Have a diver go over the side and check the bay doors."

Carl nodded. "Aye, Captain."

He activated the warning klaxons and blew ballast.

###

Margaret tapped her finger on the main tank gauge. "I hope they rescue us soon. We only have a few minutes of air left."

"I'm sure they will, Love. Surely they've missed us by now."

"There are some on this expedition who could care less what happens to us."

"Perhaps. But if the doors are not shut, this sub is useless as a research vessel. They'll have to realize that . . . eventually."

"If 'eventually' doesn't happen in a few minutes we won't have to worry about it anymore."

The few minutes passed with only breathing to break the silence. The air was beginning to sour with carbon dioxide. They both realized that asphyxiation would soon follow.

Eric coughed. "You really think we'll never see the creatures again?"

"What are the chances? We've been all over the oceans and seas of this planet for what . . . the last thirty years, and we've only seen them one time. If you want my opinion, I think we were both hallucinating."

"I didn't know that cameras could hallucinate."

Margaret held her hand to her forehead. "I think I'm hallucinating."

Eric could taste the acidity, and his heart rate was much higher than normal. If they didn't get fresh air soon, he and his wife wouldn't make it.

His face exhibiting resignation, he turned to her. "No matter what happens I want you to remember something important."

"What's that, dear?" Her voice was a strained whisper.

He swallowed. "That I love you."

She tried to smile but it took too much effort. Her eyes were glazed and beads of sweat lined her brow. "I know you do, dear. You don't need to say it."

"Horse puckey! You enjoy hearing it. I know you do."

She stared at him but her gaze wavered. "You're right. You . . . I love you, too." She gently shook her head. "I feel like I'm going to pass out."

Tears formed in Eric's eyes. He tried to reach out to her with a shaking hand. "Hang on, Love. Please hang on."

She slumped in the pilot seat. Her head bobbed around and then slowly jerked up. Her eyes strained to look out at the element of her pending death.

"Look!" Margaret's eyes widened and she laboriously raised her arm to point at the hatch. "The water's going down."

"They must have fixed the problem. Thank goodness." He immediately began to open the hatch.

Margaret struggled to get up out of the pilot seat, but her head swam from oxygen deprivation. "Hurry."

The hatch popped and they both immediately took deep breaths of fresh air, They climbed out of the hatch, slid down to the deck, and immediately hugged and kissed, at first like two people recently resurrected, but then, more violently. It only served to whet Eric's appetite for more. His hand instinctively found her breast.

"Ah, dear," she said, trying to restrain him, "This is not a good time."

His eyes radiated both surprise and a plea. "Why not?"

"We'd have to remove our wet suits. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to explain it."

"What's to explain?" he said, nuzzling her neck.

She smiled briefly. "Look, when we get out of here, they'll probably send us to our room."

He looked up at her and grinned. "Yeah, we've been bad. Real bad."

She laughed and he joined her, hugging her all the tighter.

###

Captain Stubens pointed at a young woman standing before him in the control room. She shook ever so slightly, kept her eyes averted, and folded her hands like a penitent.
"I want to know how all of the air was removed from the tanks on the reserve rack, how a chip was removed from the intercom, and how the bay door indicators were all screwed up."

She looked up at him with frightened eyes. "I don't know . . . I always check the air . . . I . . . I don't know."

"The Hauptman's came this close to dying down there." He held his forefinger a few centimeters away from his thumb. "If they had, you would be answering to a general inquiry board." He paused, allowing his ominous statement to sink in. "I could have you confined for this, but I can't prove anything. Besides, I need you." He turned to Carl. "I want a guard at the bay around the clock. This will not happen again."

"Aye, Captain."

Stubens turned back to Sally. "I don't know if you were responsible or not, but you had better keep on the straight and narrow. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Her acknowledgement was tentative and soft.

He glared at her for several seconds. "Dismissed."

She turned and quietly departed.

"I don't think she had anything to do with this," Carl said.

The Captain stared at him for a few seconds. "If it wasn't her than who the hell was it?"

"I don't know, but we'll have to be more careful about security from now on."

Stubens shook his head. "This is a research vessel, not a military ship. The only problem we should be having is an occasional theft or a fight. We certainly shouldn't be experiencing sabotage."

Carl turned back to his pilot station controls. "Maybe we're just being paranoid. But, it wouldn't hurt to be alert."

"Yes. I agree." He turned to leave the bridge but paused. "Have Miller check out all the systems in the docking bay. We may have overlooked something."

"Aye, Captain."