“So far, so good,” said the Norwegian in his usual curt manner.
“You’re an absolute mechanical genius. Comrade,” complimented Ivana.
“I seriously doubted that I’d ever be able to reinitiate my exploration of that road network.”
“If you’d like, why don’t we continue this test run on the floor of the trench,” offered Karl Ivar.
“Our charge remains strong, and that’s as. good a place as any to monitor the success of our repairs.”
“I’m willing if you are,” replied Ivana, an expectant grin covering her face.
Without further ado, Karl Ivar pushed forward on the joystick, and Misha’s bow angled sharply downwards.
A hushed silence prevailed as they sliced through the deep scattering layer and penetrated the thermocline. Confident in her pilot’s abilities, Ivana worked the ballast levers as ordered, and spent the rest of her time gazing out the porthole. It seemed to take only seconds to complete their dive, and soon Misha’s spotlights illuminated a familiar pattern of fractured stones lying on the trench’s bottom.
“We’re lucky that the sediment hasn’t shifted,” remarked Ivana.
“Now the big question remains, how far south does this network extend?”
“Shall we find out?” returned the Norwegian, who briefly glanced over at his passenger and playfully winked.
The depth gauge dropped below nine hundred and eighty feet, as Karl Ivar guided Misha further down the sloping gradient. The jagged walls of the trench that lay on each side of them were veiled by the black void that persisted beyond the meager illumination of their spotlights. The side-scanning sonar unit allowed them to skim the sea floor at full throttle, without the fear of collision.
Amazingly enough, the stone roadway continued to lead them on an unerring course, due southward.
Though several portions of the thoroughfare were covered by sand and mud, for the most part it was clear of debris.
Ivana couldn’t believe their good fortune, and there was no doubt in her mind that this pathway had to have been laid by the hands of an ancient people. With the faint hope that it would lead them to an archaeological find of vast proportions, she looked on as Karl Ivar alertly pulled back on the throttle.
“Sonar shows an obstacle ahead,” he explained as the diving saucer slowed to a bare quarter knot of forward speed.
“I’ll redirect the spotlight and see if I can illuminate it,” volunteered Ivana.
Thirty seconds passed before her efforts paid off.
Strewn on the sea floor before them were dozens of immense boulders. They nearly covered the portion of roadway on the sea floor below.
“This debris appears to have fallen from the walls of the trench,” theorized Ivana.
“It must have been deposited here during a seaquake.”
Karl Ivar cautiously guided Misha through this jumbled maze of jagged rock. Once on the other side of the debris field, the road was again visible, and they continued following it, all the way to a broad rock shelf. The trench appeared to drop off abruptly, and Karl Ivar disengaged the throttle and inched Misha forward utilizing the saucer’s thrusters.
It proved to be the Norwegian who first spotted the alien lights glowing from the depths on the far side of the rock shelf. Instinctively, he reached up to switch off their own spotlights, and then guided Misha gently to the smooth rock bottom.
“What ever is the matter, Karl Ivar?” questioned the confused Russian.
“We’ve got company!” he breathlessly revealed.
Following the direction of his pointed right index finger, Ivana scooted over to peer out his porthole.
And it was then that she too saw the flickering pinpoints of light in the distance.
“But that’s impossible!” she protested.
“Misha is the only vessel capable of exploring these depths.”
“Think again,” retorted the Norwegian, who watched as an exact duplicate of Misha was momentarily illuminated by the lights of yet another diving saucer.
Ivana also spotted the bright yellow mini sub which all too soon disappeared behind the distant walls of the trench.
“Those are the diving saucers from the Academician Petrovsky!” she exclaimed.
“But I thought that they were supposed to be inoperable.”
“Maybe those new parts arrived from Russia after all,” offered Karl Ivar.
“Not a chance, Comrade. And even if they did. Admiral Valerian should at the very least have informed us of this fact. I wonder what they’re doing down there.”
“Shall we go and see?” asked the Norwegian.
With her suspicions aroused, Ivana guardedly responded.
“Can you maneuver us in such a manner that we can check them out without being seen ourselves?”
“I believe that’s well within the realm of possibility,” returned Karl Ivar, who readdressed the joystick, while slightly adjusting their trim.
Without the assistance of its spotlights, Misha crept forward. The side-scanning sonar unit allowed them to proceed in this clandestine manner, until they were at the very edge of the drop-off itself. Approximately fifty feet below them, the two diving saucers could be seen hovering before a flat wall of rock. One of the mini subs was in the process of using its articulated manipulator arm to work on a large piece of machinery that was positioned on the rocky shelf. A pair of thick black cables was attached to this piece of equipment.
The cables appeared to extend all the way up to the surface, and it was Ivana who voiced her concern for both of them.
“Something is not right here, Karl Ivar. The U.N. charter that we’re currently operating under, guarantees us the exclusive use of these waters. The Academician Petrovsky’s diving saucers were only to be utilized in the event of an emergency aboard the habitat. Thus they have no business being here.”
“Do you want me to try to get us closer. Doctor?”
“No, Karl Ivar, I’ve seen enough already. Let’s return to the hangar and inform the others. I believe that this is one case when discretion is definitely the best policy.”
The trip back to the habitat seemed to take an eternity.
During the entire ascent, Ivana’s thoughts remained focused on the sighting that they had just witnessed.
She knew enough about the man who was ultimately responsible for the deployment of the diving saucers to have reasons for her suspicions. Admiral Igor Valerian had been a strange choice to command the Academician Petrovsky from the very beginning. He was a veteran cold warrior, whose hard-line leanings were well known, and he was nothing but an anachronism. She wouldn’t put it past him and his twisted cronies to try to use the habitat program as a cover for a clandestine military operation of some kind, though she didn’t have the slightest idea what the operation could be.
Having lived under the shadow of such paranoid doubts and fears for most of her life, Ivana could only pray that there was a logical explanation. But until she learned otherwise, she would proceed with the utmost caution. This was a survival tactic that her father had taught her, after his own life was ruined by those coldhearted Communist ideologies in the vein of Igor Valerian. Such dangerous men belonged to the Russia of the past. Responsible for the slaughter of untold millions of innocent persons, they were anathema to the spirit of humanity. Though she had hoped that their day was over, the evil had followed her even here, to the floor of the Atlantic. Yet this time, she would be ready for them.
They returned to the hangar without further incident, and after stowing away Misha, they hastily donned their air tanks for the short swim back to Starfish House. Even though it was well past midnight, all of their fellow teammates were waiting for them in the habitat’s central dining room.