Ivana startled a group of spiny-finned wrasse that had been nibbling on the algae that was growing on one of Habitat One’s telescopic legs. Tomo was a good distance behind her, inspecting one of the cables, and she took a moment to survey the coral clearing before climbing up into the dome’s hatch.
Like yellow welcoming beacons, lights shined from Starfish House’s portholes. A funnel-shaped column of exhaust bubbles shot out of the roof and rose to the surface, where the distinctive hull of the Academician Petrovsky could be seen bobbing in the distance. It was somewhat reassuring to know that this well-equipped support ship was near should they need help. But in another way, the gently rolling hull seemed to belong to an alien world that she was no longer part of.
A stingray gracefully swam by, followed by a school of fast-moving mullet. These were the rightful inhabitants of Ivana’s present world, where humans were outsiders.
She suddenly felt small and insignificant, and wondered what her father would think of this amazing underwater world. It was because of him that she had become a scientist, and he had always been a source of support and inspiration..
How powerless she had felt when she learned that he had cancer. And then only months later, the state further tore apart his life, by forcing him to retire and sending him into exile, merely for expressing his opinion.
Whereas the human world could be cruel and unfair, the sea seemed a far cleaner, more understanding place. Its laws were those of nature, where species killed not for political or economic gain, but for survival.
Her father had been a visionary in many ways. Just as he foresaw the very composition of matter, he also anticipated the demise of the party that had subjugated their homeland for too many years. Unfortunately, he spoke out before the transfer of power was completed, and lost the chance to participate in Russia’s second revolution in a single century.
As soon as she completed her work with the habitat project, she promised herself that she would take the time to visit her parents. She had so much to share with them. And as she gazed out at the magical underwater world around her, she prayed that she could find the proper words to express herself.
It was Tomo’s presence beside her that redirected her thoughts back to their current duty. Turning her gaze away from the clearing, she followed her co-worker up the ladder that led into Habitat One’s interior.
The same compressed air that kept the water out of the dome’s open hatch, allowed them to remove their air hoses and their scuba tanks. The muted hum of machinery greeted them, and Tomo switched on the main bank of overhead lights, illuminating the equipment from which this constant noise emanated.
“I’m going to check the gauges,” informed Tomo.
“Then I’ll help you with the inventory, before we get on with the routine equipment maintenance.”
“That’s fine with me. Comrade,” replied Ivana, as she followed a narrow latticed-steel catwalk past the electric generator. The energy produced by this powerful unit also ran the nearby hydrolysis unit, as well as the air compressor, which constantly pumped out a carefully monitored mixture of oxygen and helium.
She stopped beside the equipment locker, where the materials needed to maintain their life-support systems were stored. Because of space limitations, many of the substances kept there had to be continually restocked from above. Fuel to run the generator, oxygen, helium, and a variety of spare parts and fresh foodstuffs, had to be sent down from the Academician Petrovsky on a regular resupply schedule. Thus there was a limit to the extent of their self-sufficiency.
They envisioned a future underwater city that could run totally on its own resources. The Mir habitat was but a forerunner of such a futuristic ecosphere, that would grow its own food, synthesize its air from water, and tap the forces that determine the tides, in order to create the energy needed to sustain such an active community.
This was the reality that Ivana was working for, and her hard work was a necessary precursor of things to come.
A clipboard with a pen attached to it hung from a nail, and Ivana picked it up and entered the date and time on the inventory sheet. She then stepped into the locker and began counting the various supplies that were stored here. She was well into this process, when Tomo joined her.
“Sorry that I took so long. Doctor. The pressure gauge on the air pump was registering in the red. The compressor itself was in the normal range, so my first guess was a stuck needle.”
“Were you able to repair it?” asked Ivana, who had been in the midst of counting how many tanks of helium that they had left.
“That I was, Doctor, without even having to go to the tool box. It’s amazing what a sharp, well-placed blow with your knuckles can fix these days.”
The Russian chuckled.
“Even with all this hightech gear, the old-fashioned ways can often be the best.”
“How’s the supply situation, Doctor?”
Ivana recorded the results of her latest count before replying.
“It looks like we’re finally going to need machine oil, and a couple of extra tanks of helium. We might as well order some air filters while we’re at it, and another water-purification test kit.”
“Doctor,” said Tomo.
“If you’d like, I could finish the inventory and do the rest of the maintenance. I know that you’re anxious to find out how Karl Ivar is getting along.”
“I’d appreciate that. Comrade,” returned Ivana, who wasted no time handing her co-worker the clipboard.
“I guess my preoccupation with Misha shows.”
“I know how much getting the mini sub operational means to you, Doctor. I could just imagine what it would be like, if something happened, and I wouldn’t be able to visit my aqua farm anymore. I’d be heartbroken.”
“Thanks again. Comrade,” she said as she turned for the catwalk.
“As they say in America, I owe you one.”
Less than five minutes later, she was entering the water once again, with her air tanks strapped securely to her back. With a quick flutter of her flippered feet, she began her way over to the hangar. Halfway to her goal, as she was passing over a massive, brain-shaped clump of coral, she spotted an unwelcome trio of eight-foot long visitors swimming directly towards her from above. It only took a single look at the splash of white that colored their triangular dorsal fins to identify them as white-tipped sharks.
The white-tip was an aggressive species, that along with its cousin the great white shark, posed the greatest outward threat to man. It could not be taken for granted, and because it was obvious that the sharks had already classified her as potential food, she had to proceed with the utmost caution.
Armed with only a diver’s utility knife, strapped to her calf in a plastic sheath, Ivana swam straight down to the clump of coral. She used the coral to protect her back, and looked on worriedly as the sharks continued to close in.
They were huge, evil-looking creatures, with dull gray skin that held several hitchhiking remoras. With instinctive cunning, they began circling the clump of coral in ever-tightening bands until Ivana could almost reach out and touch them. She felt a bit foolish as she reached down to pull out her knife. Doubting that she’d even be able to pierce their rawhide-tough skin, she knew that her only chance to scare them off would be a well-placed blow to the nose, eyes, or underbelly.
Commandant Lenclud had warned them about going out alone. But she had been impatient to find out how Karl Ivar was coming along so she failed to heed his advice, and now she was about to pay the ultimate price for her mistake.