The interior consisted of a simple metal chamber, with numerous chairs attached to the wall, valves and gauges embedded all around them. The hyperbaric lifeboat could be jettisoned, and had enough life support to keep them alive for seventy-two hours in the event of an emergency. To date the escape system had never been used, and every dive team hoped they wouldn’t be the first to try.
O’Keefe shuffled back and forth, making monkey noises but sounding more like a cartoon chipmunk, while Langley and Haakon each gave Gordon a serious look.
“Sorry about that,” Gordon said as he stood above the hatch and sealed it shut.
Langley studied him for a few more seconds before activating the lifeboat’s intercom system. “We’re all in. Hatches are closed.”
“Roger that,” the voice from the control room said.
Gordon looked away and stared at the solid floor beside the hatch. An intense feeling of shame came over him. He realized he had been thinking purely about himself, and had put his priorities over those of the dive team. The other men’s confidence in him had just taken a big hit. Gordon would have to work hard to regain their trust again over the next several weeks if he wanted to keep working in the industry.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, Gordon saw Haakon looming over him with a reassuring smile on his face. “You’re a good man,” the Norwegian said. “You’ve got plenty of guts.”
“That’s why we call him El Gordo,” O’Keefe said. “He’s got so much fatty guts he doesn’t even need an umbilical to pull himself back into the dive bell.”
All four men chuckled.
15
AFTER GETTING CLEARANCE at the port of entry, the Wanderer lay at anchor just south of Athol Bay, the oceanographic research vessel’s white painted hull reflecting back the afternoon sun’s rays.
Chloe had to do a little bit of verbal maneuvering when questioned by Australian port officials as to whether she was selling something, which would have required more than just a tourist visa. In the end, the authorities did allow her access into the country after she told them that they were there just to show off the newly built submarine for some friends, and not to engage in any sort of commercial transaction.
Her business partner Ethan Riis had accompanied her, and now he was leaning behind the modified ship’s port gunwale near the bow, enjoying a can of ice cold beer while looking out past the sapphire blue waters, towards the distant length of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. His faded Hawaiian shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his broad, tanned chest. “Chloe, where are you?”
They had graduated from the same commercial dive school, bumping into each other over the years. The one time they had gotten close was an impromptu lovemaking session after a particularly long dive inside the hyperbaric chamber, while the rest of the team was outside in the diving bell. Things could have gotten more serious between them, but Ethan finally put an end to it when he married his high school sweetheart. Chloe took it all in stride with her usual stoicism, and they remained friends thereafter.
Ethan’s dad owned a small company that built commercial ROVs, and the son had bought out the old man’s share after he retired from saturation diving. In time, Ethan decided to branch out, and his team of engineers began to build personal submersibles as well. Figuring that he needed an experienced diver to help test out the new vehicles, he got in touch with Chloe, just as she was looking for another vocation, and the rest was history.
Emerging from the lower cabin, Chloe flashed a smile towards him as she got closer before sitting down with a tired sigh. “Everything’s set. They called on the radio and should be here any minute.”
Ethan chuckled before taking another sip of beer. The ship’s captain and most of the crew were in the city, shopping for fuel and supplies. “You need to relax. You’ve been tense ever since we left port in Los Angeles.”
Chloe looked away. She could see the distinct architecture of the Sydney Opera House to the west, the iconic structure’s roof resembling pale, overlapping fish scales. “Oh, it’s just my brother. I’m worried about him.”
“Gordy? Isn’t he back on a dive?”
She nodded. “He is. Right out in the Arabian Sea, just to the west of us.”
Ethan knew about the accident. Even ex-divers like him still kept in touch with the overall community, and every life lost always hit hard. “He must have been cleared by the doctors before he got back into it, right?”
Chloe let out a sigh. “Physically he’s okay. It’s his mental state I’m worried about. Gordy was having nightmares and he couldn’t sleep, right up to the day I drove him to the airport so he could catch his flight. I think it’s PTSD.”
“I understand,” Ethan said softly. “Did you try to talk him out of it?”
“I did, but he wouldn’t budge. He told me he needed the money to marry his girlfriend.”
“Gosh, I could have lent him some cash.”
“I was willing to pay for everything, even his honeymoon, but he said he needed to do it on his own.”
Ethan chuckled. “He reminds me of you. A totally independent guy.”
“Yeah,” Chloe said. “When he comes back I’m going to insist it’ll be the last time he ever dives again. I was hoping to maybe get him a position in the company afterwards if that’s okay with you.”
“If he can pull his own weight then I got no problem with it,” Ethan said while sipping away the last of his beer. “We could always use another experienced sat diver for product testing.”
The nearby sound of an outboard got them both on their feet. Ethan adjusted his sunglasses as he looked over the gunwale and saw a small speedboat making her way towards them. “Looks like they’re here.”
Chloe moved towards the stern of the Wanderer as the speedboat cut her engines and drifted closer. Three men were onboard the smaller vessel, and they started waving at her. Chloe smiled as she stood along the side and caught the thick blue nylon rope that was flung towards her.
With others in the ship’s crew helping out, the three men managed to dock their speedboat alongside the Wanderer’s starboard hull. Ethan helped the first man onto the Wanderer’s lower aft deck. Chloe instantly recognized him as Professor Michael James, her contact from the Australian Oceanographic Institute.
She quickly held out her hand the moment Professor James’s sandaled feet touched the gleaming white deck. “Welcome aboard the Wanderer, Professor.”
Professor James had a shock of white hair growing out like puffballs along the sides of his balding skull. His tanned, leathery face stretched further into a wrinkly smile as he eagerly shook her hand. “Welcome to Australia, Chloe! And please, call me Mick. We here down under tend to be less formal and all that.”
Introductions were made on all sides. Accompanying Professor James were Orestes Vasiliades, an oceanographer, and the institute’s comptroller, David Sittig. Ethan opened up a nearby cooler full of beer, and the other men eagerly accepted.
Professor James shrugged apologetically. “Sorry to be late, but there was a bit of news on TV, and it wasn’t until after we pried ourselves away from the coverage did we realized just how much time had passed.”
“No problem, it gave us more time to ready the sub,” Ethan said. “Must have been big news though.”
“It is,” Orestes said. “Apparently one of your Navy’s submarines went missing, and a task force is heading out for a search and rescue operation. The Aussie Navy is scrambling to join them.”
Ethan raised both eyebrows in surprise. He and Chloe had been so busy they didn’t have time to check the news. “Oh? Where did this happen?”