Normally, Khan would have been on the bridge with Captain de Leon, but he had been persuaded to remain in his cabin because the captain was concerned for his condition. Khan realised that his own health could jeopardise the entire mission should he collapse with heart failure. It would have disastrous consequences on their mission and all would be lost. He had no choice but to heed his own counselling and that of de Leon.
During the dive, Khan had followed each move in his mind as though he was piloting the Challenger. He resisted the impulse to move his hands in mimicry of the moves Marsh would be making as he guided the submersible on to the well head. His spine had stiffened gradually as Marsh descended with the Challenger until he heard Batista guide Marsh on to the spigots. And as the Challenger locked on to the well cap, he felt his strength leave him.
He reached for the bottle containing the small, white tablets. He took two and washed them down with a glass of water. Malik looked concerned.
And it still wasn’t over!
Batista entered the central chamber by swimming through the open gap in the side of the skirt. Once inside he floated to the top of the chamber. Zienkovitch entered the skirt to release the cap over the well head. He used a compressed air gun already attached to the underside of the submersible. Placing this on the hub of a wheel on top of the cap, he pulled the trigger of the gun and released millions of tiny air bubbles into the water around the cap as the wheel spun free.
Zienkovitch switched off the gun and pulled the well cap open. It pivoted on its counter weight revealing a small, black hole which descended a thousand feet to a blind end.
Batista waited until his colleague was clear of the skirt and lowered the bomb until it was low enough for him to complete the next stage. He pulled out a small, metal object from his wet suit. It was attached to a small, silver chain which was looped around his neck. He then unlocked a small panel that was on the outside of the bomb casing. Inside this panel was a plate on which was etched a rectangular shadow beside a small, unlit window.
He placed the metal block, which was hanging from his neck on its safety cord, on top of the rectangular shadow. There was a click and suddenly the unlit window burst into a dazzling row of illuminated numbers which had been initiated by a proximity magnet inside the small block.
Batista watched the numbers spin until they settled, from left to right into a predetermined number. Hanging on the same cord as the metal block was a Castell Key. This was a like a small cup, no more than an inch wide in which was engraved a letter. He inserted the key into a recess beside the panel which contained the same, engraved letter, recessed and reversed, which located snugly into the letter on the Castell key.
Then he pushed the key firmly into the casing and turned it in a clockwise direction. He heard the sound of a lock engaging and he released the pressure on the key which sprung back under spring pressure. He then turned the key counter clockwise and removed it, letting it hang from the cord.
He glanced up. “Taliba, Trinity One is primed.” Then he removed the block, snapped the panel door shut and put the magnet and Castell key back inside his wet suit pocket.
The next part of the procedure was simple. All Batista had to do then was to lower the bomb into the well. He reached across the chamber to a button set into the wall and pressed it. An electric motor hummed quietly and the rope attached to the bomb began to pay out as the bomb dropped slowly into the well.
A strain gauge, calibrated in feet showed Batista how far the bomb was travelling. Batista knew the depth of the well and concentrated on the depth gauge.
In his cabin, Khan breathed a deep sigh, carefully letting his lungs settle gently as beads of sweat touched and formed a patina over his face. He listened as Batista called out the descent of the bomb in feet, his voice distorted by the helium gas.
Marsh listened too, impotent, unable to stop this terror. He scanned the instrument panel and watched the numbers rolling over as the bomb descended. Around him the sea was almost totally black save for the glare of the arc lamps which diffused and scattered through the sea. Small life-forms drifted by, then a school of fish. The beginning of creation he thought, and now possibly the end.
Three hundred ….. four hundred. It went on, counting the bomb into its last resting place, deep beneath the sea bed; nto the crust of the earth.
“One thousand, mark!”
“Secure the rope!” Khan ordered involuntarily. No-one could hear him.
Batista secured the wire rope on to a clamp welded on to the wall of the chamber, leaving about six feet free, so that it wouldn’t drop into the well. He then cut the rope and attached a ferrule to the end that was still connected to the bomb. He then clamped this to a watertight antenna that was secured to the inside of the well cap. Satisfied that he had completed the correct sequence of events, and satisfied that everything was in order, Zienkovitch then lowered and secured the well cap.
Once the job was complete, the two divers exchanged hand signals and swam out from beneath the Challenger, and round to the cockpit. Batista showed two thumbs to Marsh: job complete!
The signal from Batista was not a self-congratulatory message to Marsh, but to let him know that it was time to take on one hundred and fifty kilos of water into the ballast tanks to compensate for the weight of the bomb. This would enable the two divers to spring the clamps on the skirt. Without the weight of the bomb, the submersible would be exerting a stronger, upward force on the clamps and make release that much more difficult and dangerous.
Once the ballast tanks had been flooded and the Challenger was now at its previous weight, Batista and Zienkovitch were able to release the clamps in safety. They then swam into the central chamber, closed both the upper and lower watertight doors and signalled Marsh to purge the chamber of water. Once Marsh had completed this, they were able to enter the decompression chamber and allow Marsh to begin the ascent.
Challenger surfaced twenty minutes later about two hundred feet from the Taliba. Marsh used the thrust motors to keep station until recovery could begin. Batista and Zienkovitch were in the decompression chamber on the Challenger and would remain so for a couple of hours to decompress safely.
Once the submersible was secure on the deck of the ship, Marsh opened a valve beside him to let a small amount of compressed air into the cockpit bubble. Normally it was impossible to open the door after a deep dive because such a tremendous pressure had been exerted on it at depth. Allowing just a small amount of compressed air in allowed the door to ‘pop’. Marsh then closed the valve and opened the door.
He then switched power to the Taliba’s system, informed the two divers they were now under de Leon’s control and climbed out of the cockpit. From the point of view of a professional, Marsh could be satisfied on a job well done. But from the point of view of a man whose life was forfeit and that of the woman he loved, it was an unmitigated disaster.
Khan was on deck when Marsh climbed out of the Challenger. He shook Marsh’s hand, taking him completely by surprise.