“Cliff Jameson told us to wait for him here,” Hunt said.
Johnny nodded. “In the meantime, come on in. We’ve got an ROV down now that should be coming up on the wreck any minute.” He held the door open and beckoned inside with an extended arm.
“Great, thanks!” Jayden said enthusiastically. The three of them entered the space and Johnny let the door swing shut behind them. The room was occupied with a console of electronic equipment, including a bank of video monitors that now showed different views from the ROV’s six cameras. A technician wearing headphones manned the monitors. Johnny introduced him as Bud Grimes, but Bud could not afford to take his eyes or hands off of the screens and controls, and gave only a smile and a quick finger wave. Instead, Johnny pointed to the different screens as he explained what they were seeing.
“They don’t look very different now because she’s still dropping down through the water, but this one here is front-facing, this one’s rear, then we also have Left, Right, Up and Down. Obviously, because it’s black down there, it all looks the same, just what the halogens are illuminating. You will see the occasional creature floating by, though.”
As if on cue, a squid darted across the field of view of the left camera before appearing again on the front lens until it propelled itself beyond the reach of the lights. The water was not completely clear, owing to bits of particulate matter known as detritus, or “marine snow,” that were suspended in the inky liquid. A data readout in the corners of each screen displayed the date and time, water temperature and depth, as well as technical information about the ROV including remaining battery power.
“The wreck should be coming into view in just another minute or so,” Johnny said, pointing to the depth readout before adding, “We’re not going to take it inside on this dive, we’ll leave the penetration dives to you two, but we just wanted to do a general survey and test out the equipment.”
“Good idea,” Jayden said, eyes flicking back and forth between the different monitors.
“I see it!” Carter exclaimed, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. The wreck of the RMS Titanic. He found it incredible to think he was standing right over it.
“This is the classic bow view.” Johnny pointed to the front-facing feed, where the front of the ill-fated liner came into view. The railing was visible, its six bars heavily encrusted with layers of marine growth. “Those are what we call rusticles, he said, pointing to the elongated, stalactite-like formations of brownish, oxidized iron. “Very common throughout the ship, inside and out.”
Carter and Jayden nodded as they looked on while the ROV propelled itself over the rail and across the bow deck. It was amazing to Carter how intact the ship still was after all these years underwater, not to mention sinking after striking an iceberg. But he knew that the impact had occurred below the waterline — a half dozen lacerations of only about three square feet. From the deck itself, it would have appeared that the ship missed the iceberg, but since most of an iceberg’s mass is below the waterline, the ship was unable to completely avoid the obstacle. Hunt found it hard not to visualize the panicking people on board that night, scrambling around to try and fix the damage, and then starting to lose control as they launched the lifeboats.
He was brought back to the present by the door to the control room opening and Cliff Jameson walking in. “Ah, there you are! Good, Johnny found you, or you found Johnny!”
“They found me,” Johnny said, without taking his eyes from the monitors.
“So listen, gentlemen,” Jameson began as he took a seat in a swivel chair. “As you know, you were retained by Ms. Miller to hopefully recover a very special document from one of the safes aboard the wreck. I do not even know what this document is. What’s so special about it, care to tell me?”
Hunt shook his head. “I can’t—”
“Excellent! Just testing you. Security is vital to this mission. As it is, we know that someone’s been snooping around on the wreck, diving on it not only with ROVs, but with manned submersibles, systematically searching for something.”
“Probably the same something that Ms. Miller asked us to look for,” Carter said. “I can tell you this much: as you said, it’s a document, but it’s an old one, on parchment or papyrus, and if there was the slightest breach of integrity of the safe, it’s likely been totally destroyed by now.”
“Someone thinks it might still be intact,” Johnny said, still focused on the monitor, where the ROV cruised over the top of the bow deck. Sweat beaded on his brow while Bud Grimes’ right hand deftly manipulated a joystick as he sent the robot its instructions.
“You’re the only ship on the site,” Carter pointed out.
“There was another ship here before we arrived, two days ago. They high-tailed it out of here when they saw us coming,“ Jameson said with a long face.
“Not only that,” Johnny added, “but other ships have reported them in the area during the last few months. Whoever it is, they’ve been really methodical about hunting for something down there. They’re flying in the face of all the treaties too.”
“I thought these were international waters?” Jayden asked. “370 miles off the nearest coast?”
Jameson responded to this. “Yeah, but the Titanic, and the entire three-by-five mile debris field surrounding the main wreck, are special, registered as a historic grave site. No one is supposed to touch anything on the wreck. After it was first found by Dr. Robert Ballard in 1985, there was a goldrush of sorts to visit the wreck, to commercialize it by taking paying passengers down to it in submersibles. But all that was bad for the wreck, and things — dishes, jewelry, you name it — started to go missing.”
Johnny turned toward them from his position in front of the monitors. “But starting in the 2010’s, world governments — including Nova Scotia, England, Scotland, and the U.S.-managed to pass legislation aimed at limiting access to the wreck, as well as the ability to profit from items salvaged from it. The upshot of it was that both wanton looting as well properly permitted treasure seekers were reduced in number. Even so, as the deep diving technology gets better and more affordable, there are still those willing to skirt the law in order to steal a piece of history.”
Carter nodded slowly, eyes alight with intensity. The discussion was aligning perfectly with his life’s work, and he was about to formulate a response when the handheld radio on Jameson’s belted crackled.
“Bridge to Cliff, you copy?”
Jameson snatched up the radio and brought it to his lips. “Cliff, here, what’s up?”
“Sir, we’ve got an approaching vessel — a large ship — that has completely ignored our radio requests for identification and purpose. We’ve been contacting them for over an hour on multiple frequencies — even tried semaphore flags and signal mirrors, just for the hell of it — and we get nothing. Just thought you should know that they’ll likely be on site in about ten more minutes. Whether they’re just passing through, or they intend to stay, we don’t know. Over.”
Jameson eyed the other men in the room while voicing his radio reply. “Thanks for the heads up, Bridge. I’ll be there shortly. Meanwhile, continue your attempts to make radio contact, over and out.” He clipped the radio back to his belt while addressing Carter and Jayden.
“Looks like we’ve got company. I wanted to give you a full tour of the ship first, but in light of our unexplained visitors, I think it’s best if I get up to the bridge right away.” He turned to leave until Carter said, “I believe Jayden and I are ready to do a submersible dive.” At this Jayden nodded enthusiastically, and Hunt continued. “How about we get the submersible ready? Having some human presence down there in case our mystery guests decide to stay awhile might be an effective preventative move.”