“The pod they took with them was transmitting muons on a frequency that Dr. Nagoya felt would draw attention from the Shadow.”
“Mission accomplished,” Dane said. “Now get them out of there.”
“There isn’t enough time for them to get to the surface,” Foreman said. “And even if they did, what makes you think the surface is going to be safe? Remember what happened to the crew of the Glomar. It’s called sunk cost, and there’s no way around. We knew there was a good chance that anything we set there was going to draw a reaction and that if it did, there was nothing we could do about it.”
“They can hide inside the graveyard,” Dane said. “We went through a smaller door in the center of the door we found in the Atlantic. Have them search for it.”
‘How do you think those craft in the graveyard you visited got there?” Foreman asked.
“Most likely the sphere,” Dane said, “but it’s worth a chance.” He looked at the display. “They don’t have much time. They might be safe in there.”
“All right,” Foreman agreed. He picked up a handset and called to the submersible via the Reveille.
Gann and Murphy were mesmerized by the massive door they had uncovered when Foreman’s voice came over the radio.
“Deepflight, this is Angel Six. Over.”
Gann picked up the mike. “This is Deepflight. Over.”
“Do exactly what I tell you to,” Foreman said. “Go to the center of the circle. Look for a smaller black circle there. Go into it. Jettison the attached pod before you go in.”
“What is this?” Gann demanded.
“You don’t have time to argue or ask questions,” Foreman said. “You’ve got an enemy bogey heading your way.”
“Enemy bogey?” Gann repeated glancing at Murphy.
A new voice cut in. “This is Reveille. Roger that, Deepflight! Roger that! Something very big is coming this way. Range ten kilometers and closing at eighty knots. It’s freaking huge, and it is not responding to hails!”
Gann shoved the controls, turning the nose of Deepflight toward the ocean bottom. He increased the throttle, and they headed down.
“Reveille, this is Angel Six. Recommend you head away at Flank speed.”
“Roger that.”
Dane watched the sphere closing on the Challenger Deep as relayed from Nagoya’s computers and integrated with the Department of Defense positioning information on both Deepflight and the Reveille. It was going to be very close. He felt impotent, unable to influence what was about to happen.
“Geez, look at that,” Murphy whispered. “Whatever’s coming in is filling the entire screen in the north.”
Gann didn’t have time to look at the radar. He was navigating by visual, staying oriented on the gray wall just above the top of Deepflight.
“There,” Gann said as the gray changed to black. He had the submersible do a roll, and then the nose was pointing at a small black circle.
“Looks solid to me,” Murphy said.
Gann finally spared a glance at the radar. He saw what had shocked Murphy. A curved edge had filled the entire top half of the screen, and it was coming closer. The only thing he’d ever seen that big moving was an iceberg, but this thing was coming under its own power.
“I’m going in,” Gann said as he edged forward on the controls.
“Don’t forget we need to jettison the pod,” Gann said. “Do it.”
On board the Reveille, the engines were maxed out as the ship made to the south. On the bridge, the captain was watching the approaching sphere on radar also. Unfortunately, the ship was built for research, not speed or combat, so even at full throttle they could only make eighteen knots. And they had no weapons on board, although the captain doubted that any weapons they might have would be effective against whatever was coming.
Deepflight blinked out of existence on the status board, the image of the sphere completely filling the canyon deep inside the Challenger Deep, the video feed from the submersible going blank.
Dane sat down at the conference table and shook his head. “How many on board?”
“Two,” Foreman said. His attention still on the board. “Damn,” Foreman muttered.
Dane looked up. The sphere was moving, ascending. “It’s going after the Reveille.”
Foreman picked up the microphone. “Reveille, this is Angel Six. Over.”
“We’ve got it on radar, range five thousand meters horizontal, nine thousand meters vertical and closing. Any suggestion would be helpful. Over.”
Foreman looked at Dane, who simply shook his head.
“Five us a video feed,” Foreman ordered.
A screen on the wall flickered, and then they could see the Pacific Ocean from the bridge of the Reveille. The water was perfectly calm, the sun shining. The only thing marring the tranquility of the scene were the increasingly anxious reports from the Reveille’s radar man coming out of the speakers.
“Range four thousand meters horizontal, seven thousand meters vertical, and closing at high speed.”
“We’re still waiting on any suggestions,” the captain of the Reveille said. “Over.”
“It might be bluffing,” Foreman suggested.
“What the hell is it, anyway?” the captain demanded.
“We don’t know,” Foreman admitted.
“Great.”
‘Range three thousand meters horizontal, five thousand meters vertical, and closing at high speed.”
Gann felt the air around him changing, the pressure increasing. His head pounded, and the video screen was dark.
“What the hell is going on?” Murphy demanded.
The nose of the submersible had hit the dark circle just moments ago, and then slowly they’d gone into it, as if being absorbed. Alarms began going off. Gann ran through emergency procedures but could find nothing seriously wrong until he glanced at the outside pressure-reading gauge.
“That can’t be,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Outside pressure is one atmosphere.”
“The gauge is broken,” was Murphy’s immediate assessment.
Both men blinked as the light inside increased dramatically as the three screens showing the outside view suddenly brightened far beyond what the searchlights could do.
“Where the hell are we?” Murphy whispered. His training took hold, and he checked his instruments. He didn’t believe what he was seeing, but he reported it anyway. “I’ve got a reading of the surface ten meters above us.”
“That would explain the atmospheric reading,” Gann observed. He checked the radio, trying to reach the Reveille and Angel Six, but only static came back. “Let’s see where we are,” he finally said.
The sphere was solid black and perfectly round. There was no external sign of a form of propulsion; nevertheless, it was pushing through the water at high speed, closing on the Reveille.
It was also picking up anything in its path via a hole that had irises open on the very front, about fifty meters wide. It had swallowed the transmitting pod before halting in front of the large door, then reversing direction and heading for the surface.
“Range zero meters horizontal, one thousand meters vertical, and rising at high speed. Closing on us, sir,” the radar man added, a quaver in his voice.