Crowe sighed. She’d run to a spot directly above the starboard-side elevator. Below them was the opening to the hangar deck. She’d called over the side a few times, but no one had answered.
The boat was burning, and they were going to sink.
Maybe there were lifeboats somewhere on board, but they wouldn’t be much use. Everything on a helicopter carrier was set up for people to be evacuated by air. And, anyway, even if they did find the lifeboats, they’d still need someone to lower them, and everyone who knew how to do so had vanished in the blaze.
Tarry black smoke drifted towards them. ‘Have you got any cigarettes?’ she asked.
She expected him to pronounce her completely insane, but instead he dug out a packet of Marlboros. ‘They’re Lights,’ he explained.
‘Oh, the healthy option…’ Crowe smiled and inhaled as the cook put his lighter to the tip. ‘Very sensible.’
Pheromones
‘We’ll squirt it into his tongue, his nose, his eyes and his ears,’ said Weaver.
‘Why?’ asked Anawak.
‘To give it a better chance of escaping.’
‘In that case we should get some into his fingertips and toes. The more the better.’
The well deck was deserted. The technicians had fled. They undressed Rubin to his underpants, working as swiftly as they could, while Johanson filled Anawak’s syringes with the pheromone. Rubin was laid out above the embankment. The water was only a few centimetres deep, but it was rising all the time. They’d removed the layers of jelly clinging to his head and flung them out of reach of the water. There was more inside his ears, which Anawak fished out.
‘You could inject some into his arse,’ said Johanson. ‘We’ve got plenty.’
‘Do you think it will work?’ Weaver asked doubtfully.
‘The few yrr that are still trapped inside him won’t be able to make nearly as much of the pheromone as we’re giving him. So if they fall for the ruse, they’ll think it’s all coming from him.’ Johanson crouched and held out a bunch of syringes. ‘who’s going first?’
Weaver felt a wave of revulsion.
‘Well, don’t all shout at once,’ said Johanson. ‘Leon?’
In the end they did it together. Hastily they pumped Rubin with nearly two litres of the pheromone solution. Half of that probably ran straight back out.
‘The water’s rising,’ said Anawak.
Weaver listened. Screeching and whining noises were still coming from all over the boat. ‘It’s getting warmer.’
‘Because the roof’s on fire.’
‘Come on.’ Weaver put her hands under Rubin’s armpits and pulled him up. ‘Let’s get this over with before Li shows up.’
‘I thought Peak had put her out of action,’ said Johanson.
‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ said Anawak, as they dragged Rubin’s body to the basin. ‘You know Li. She’s not that easy to get rid of.’
03 LEVEL
Li was beside herself with rage. She raced down the passageway, stopping at every open door, then sprinting onwards. That damn torpedo had to be somewhere. It was probably right in front of her. ‘Look harder,’ she scolded herself. ‘They’re torpedoes, for Christ’s sake. You can’t be that stupid, you pathetic half-witted…’
The deck shuddered. She lost her balance and clung to the side. The water had evidently torn down more bulkheads. The passageway tilted further. The Independence was so bow-heavy that it wouldn’t be long before waves were washing the flight deck.
She was running out of time.
All of a sudden she spotted the torpedo. It had rolled out from an open passageway. Li whooped in triumph. She darted forwards, grabbed it and ran back towards the companionway. Peak’s body had slumped through the entrance. She pulled away the heavy corpse, then climbed down the ladder and jumped the final two metres.
The second torpedo was lying at the bottom.
From now on it would be child’s play. She hurried on. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy after all - fallen objects blocked several of the companionways. It would take too long to clear them. She had to go back. Up and on to the hangar deck, then down the ramp.
Hugging the torpedoes, she made her way up as fast as she could.
Anawak
Rubin weighed a tonne. Once they’d pulled on their wetsuits - to Johanson’s groans of pain - they combined forces to drag the body up the starboard jetty, which was sticking out into the air like a ski-jump. The water had drained away from the stern gate now, exposing the planked floor. The four moored Zodiacs had risen steadily as the contents of the basin flowed into the tunnel towards the lab. Anawak listened to the creaking steel and wondered how much longer the vessel could bear the strain.
The three submersibles were hanging obliquely from the ceiling. Deepflight 2 had taken the place of the missing Deepflight 1. The other two boats had each moved up a position.
‘Which one was Li intending to take?’ asked Anawak.
‘Deepflight 3,’ said Weaver.
They inspected the control panel and flipped various switches. Nothing happened.
Anawak’s eyes scanned the console. ‘Roscovitz said that the well deck had its own power supply.’ He bent closer to the desk and read the labels. ‘OK, this is the one. It lowers the submersibles. Let’s have Deepflight 3, so Li can’t cause any trouble if she shows up here.’
Weaver activated the mechanism. A submersible descended from the rail, but it was the first, not the second.
‘Um, can’t you get Deepflight 3 for me?’
‘Well, I expect I could, if I knew how the bloody thing worked. They’re going to have to come down one by one.’
‘Never mind,’ Johanson said. ‘We don’t have time to worry about it. Take Deepflight 2 instead.’
They waited until the boat was hovering alongside the jetty. Weaver bounded over and opened the pods. Rubin’s body was unbelievably heavy, saturated with water and pheromone fluid. His head jerked back and forth, eyes glazed and staring emptily into space. Together they pushed and pulled until it plopped into the co-pilot’s pod.
They were ready.
Anawak thought of the iceberg in his dream. He’d known that the time would come when he’d be called under water. The iceberg would melt and he’d sink to the bottom of an unknown sea…
But who or what would he meet there?
Weaver
‘You’re not going, Leon.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What I say.’ One of Rubin’s feet was sticking out of the pod. Weaver kicked it back in. ‘I’m going.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that’s how it should be, that’s why.’
‘You can’t.’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘Karen, you might not come back alive, it’s—’
‘I know the risks,’ she said softly, ‘but none of our chances are good. You two take the other subs and wish me luck.’
‘Karen! Why?’
‘Do you really need to hear reasons?’
‘Forgive me for interrupting,’ said Johanson, ‘but we’re rather pushed for time. Why don’t you both stay, and I’ll go?’
‘No.’ Weaver hadn’t taken her eyes off Anawak. ‘Leon knows I’m right. I can steer a Deepflight in my sleep. I’ve got the edge over you both there. I’ve been down thousands of metres in Alvin, exploring the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. I know more about submersibles than the two of you put together and -’
‘Nonsense,’ cried Anawak. ‘I can fly it as well as you can.’
‘It’s my world down there. It’s the deep blue sea, Leon. That’s been my world since I was ten.’
He opened his mouth but Weaver pressed her finger to his lips and shook her head. ‘I’m going.’ She looked around. ‘Once I’m in, you can open the sluice and lower me. God knows what will happen once the flaps are open. We may find ourselves under attack, or maybe nothing will happen. Let’s hope for the best. Once I’ve released the boat from the chain, wait a minute or so if you can, then ta
ke the second sub. Don’t try to follow me. Stay close to the surface and get away from the ship. I may have to dive pretty deep. And afterwards…’ She paused. ‘Well, hopefully someone will fish us out. At least these things have satellite transmitters.’
‘At a rate of twelve knots it would take two days to get to Greenland or Svalbard,’ said Johanson. ‘There’s not enough fuel.’
Her heart felt heavier all the time. She gave Johanson a hug - and remembered their escape from the tsunami in the Shetlands. They’d see each other again.
‘Brave girl,’ he said.
Then she took Anawak’s face in both hands and pressed her lips firmly to his. They’d never really talked, never done any of the things that would have been so right…Then she leaped into the pilot’s pod. The submersible rocked gently. Lying on her belly, Weaver got into position and activated the locks. Slowly the pods closed. She scanned the instruments and gave the thumbs-up.
The World of the Living
Johanson stepped up to the control desk, opened the sluice and lowered the boat. They watched as the Deepflight dropped down and the steel flaps swung open beneath it. Dark water. This time nothing tried to force its way inside the vessel. Weaver used the controls to uncouple the submersible from its chain. It splashed down and sank through the water. Trapped air shimmered inside the clear domes. The craft’s colours paled, its contours blurred, and it became a shadow.
It vanished.
Anawak felt a twinge.
The heroes’ roles were handed out long ago, and they’re only for dead men. You belong in the world of the living.
Greywolf!
Perhaps you’ll need someone to tell you what the bird spirit sees.
Akesuk had been talking about Greywolf. His friend had been able to interpret his dream. The iceberg had melted, but Anawak’s path didn’t lead into the depths: it took him up to the light.
Into the world of the living.
To Crowe.
Anawak’s mind jerked back to the present. Of course. How could he have allowed himself to be sidetracked? There was work to be done on board the Independence.
‘What now?’ asked Johanson.
‘Plan B.’
‘Which is?’
‘I’ve got to go back up.’
‘Are you crazy? Whatever for?’
‘I need to find Sam - Sam and Murray.’
‘They’ve all gone,’ said Johanson. ‘The ship must have been evacuated by now. They were in the CIC last time I saw them. They were probably on the first helicopter out.’
‘No.’ Anawak shook his head. ‘They can’t have been. Or, at least, Sam wasn’t - I’m sure I heard her shouting for help. Look, I don’t want to bore you with my problems, Sigur, but I’ve spent too long avoiding things in life. I’m not like that any more, and I can’t just look away. Do you see?’
Johanson smiled.
‘I’m going to give it one last try. In the meantime, you can lower Deepflight 3 and get her ready to go. If I don’t find Sam in the next few minutes, I’ll come back and we’ll get the hell out of here.’
‘And if you do find her?’
‘Then we’ve always got Deepflight 4.’
‘OK.’
‘Do you mean that?’
‘Of course.’ Johanson spread his hands. ‘What are you waiting for?’
Anawak bit his lip. ‘If I’m not back in five minutes you’re to leave without me.’
‘I’ll wait.’
‘Five minutes. No longer.’
Anawak ran down the jetty. The opening of the tunnel was flooded, but the ship hadn’t tilted any further during the last few minutes.
Water swirled round his ankles. He waded in, swam a few strokes and walked a couple of metres until it got deeper. As he approached the start of the ramp leading up to the hangar, the ceiling seemed to tilt towards the water. There were still a few metres of air left overhead. He swam past the locked door to the lab, turned the corner and looked up. While parts of the ramp had become almost level, others were precipitously steep. The section leading up to the hangar deck now formed a gloomy peak. A dark cloud of smoke hung above it. He’d have to crawl up on all fours. In spite of the wetsuit he was cold. Even if they escaped in the submersible, there was no guarantee that they’d come out of this alive.
They had to: he had to see Karen again.
He set about trying to clamber up.
It was easier than he’d expected: the steel ramp was ridged to provide grip for military vehicles and troops. Little by little Anawak pulled himself up. The temperature rose as he ascended, and he felt warmer. Now he was plagued by thick, sticky smoke, which settled in his lungs. The higher he climbed, the denser it became. Now the roaring noise from the flight deck was audible again.
The fire had already been blazing when he’d heard Crowe’s shouts for help. If she’d survived the start of it, she might still be alive.
Coughing, he hauled himself up the final few metres and was surprised to find that visibility on the hangar deck was better than it was on the ramp. The tunnel had trapped the smoke, while up here it could circulate, entering through one gateway and escaping through the other. The air in the bay was as hot and oppressive as a furnace. Anawak covered his nose and mouth with his forearm and ran across the deck. ‘Sam?’ he shouted.
No answer.
‘Sam Crowe? Samantha Crowe?’
He had to be mad.
But it was better than living like a dead man. Greywolf had been right: he’d been no better than a corpse.
‘Sam!’
Well Deck
Johanson was alone.
He had no doubt that several of his ribs were broken, thanks to Floyd Anderson. Every little movement hurt like hell. During their efforts to retrieve Rubin’s body and load it into the Deepflight, there’d been several occasions when he could have screamed, but he’d gritted his teeth.
His strength was running out.
He thought of the Bordeaux in his cabin. What a waste! He could have used a glass of it now. So what if he had to drink it by himself? He was the only bon vivant left on board. In fact, among all the people he’d met over the last few months not one had shared his taste for the finer things in life.
He was probably a dinosaur.
A Saurus exquisitus, he thought, as he lowered Deepflight 3 until it was level with the jetty.
The idea appealed to him. Saurus exquisitus. It described him exactly. A fossil who was happy to be just that…exhilarated by the future and the past, which filled his dreams squeezing out the present.
Gerhard Bohrmann would have known how to appreciate a glass of Bordeaux, but otherwise there was no one. Sure, Sue Oliviera had enjoyed it, but she would have enjoyed a supermarket bottle just as much. Among all the people who’d worked together in the Chateau, there was no one whose tastes were sufficiently cultivated to appreciate a fine vintage Pomerol. Except perhaps…
Judith Li.
He tried to block out the pain in his chest as he jumped on to the Deepflight. Landing upright, he groaned, knees quaking. Then he crouched, opened the control flap and activated the mechanism to unlock the pods.
The domed tops rose slowly into the vertical position. The pods lay open at his feet. ‘All aboard,’ he trumpeted.
It was odd. There he was, balancing on top of a submersible, left alone in a well deck that was tilting out of the sea. You never could tell where life would take you next.
And as for Li…
He’d rather pour his wine into the Greenland Sea than give a drop of it to her. Sometimes the only way to do justice to the finer things in life was to make sure certain people couldn’t have them.
Li
She ran up to the hangar deck, panting for breath. The bay was shrouded in smoke. She stared at the sooty clouds, trying to discern what lay beyond them.
Then she heard the voice: ‘Sam? Samantha Crowe?’
Was that Anawak shouting?
There didn’t seem much point in killing hi
m now. Besides, the bow’s remaining bulkheads might give way at any moment. The vessel was in danger of splitting, and when that happened, the Independence would go down in seconds.
She ran to the ramp and peered into a smoke-filled cavern. Her stomach turned. Li wasn’t easily scared, she wasn’t cowed by the need to go down there, but if she let go of the torpedoes, they’d end up in the water.
She edged down the ramp, feet turned sideways, taking one small step at a time. It was dark and oppressive and the smoke was smothering her. The soles of her boots made empty clunking noises on the metal.
All of a sudden she lost her balance and sat down with a thud, legs stretched out in front of her. Still clutching the torpedoes, she slid painfully over the uneven surface of the ramp. The ridges hammered against her spine and the water rushed towards her.
The ramp fell away and she splashed down, then surfaced, gasping for air.
She still had the torpedoes.
A muffled groan shook the tunnel walls. She pushed off and swam through the passageway, round the corner and towards the well deck. The water wasn’t as cold as she’d expected. It must have come from the basin. The lights had gone out in the tunnel, but the well deck had its own power supply. She could see it getting brighter ahead. As she got closer she could make out the outlines of the jetties sticking up into the air, then the stern gate looming menacingly over the basin, and two submersibles, one of which was dangling at the height of the jetty.
Two submersibles?
Deepflight 2 had vanished.
And someone in a wetsuit was balanced on Deepflight 3. Johanson.
Flight Deck
Apart from supplying Crowe with cigarettes, the Pakistani cook wasn’t proving very helpful. Huddled wretchedly at the far end of the stern, he was in no fit state to make plans. Her own attempt had been no more successful. She stared helplessly at the raging flames. Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of giving up. As someone who’d spent decades listening for signals from space, the idea of resigning herself to death seemed absurd. It just wasn’t an option.
All of a sudden there was a thunderous bang. A fiery cloud spread over the island, crackling and bursting like a firework display. Powerful vibrations shook the deck, then plumes of flames shot out of the inferno, stretching towards them.