Chapter Sixteen – Salvaged secrets of Pelagos.
“We need to go with them,” said Fake pointing at the Thresher and Moontide.
Andin agreed, “I am going a little stir crazy.” The two headed to their dorm room to gather some belongings. Fake and Andin liked to tag along with the ship-pair over the weekends when they could. The sixth week at the academy was a three day weekend.
Fake continued, “It’s not just that – this job is special.”
“Why is that?” asked Andin.
“Every chain of islands releases a quarterly report of local criminal activity: piracy, looting, murder, you name it. The Prestle family murder was listed, but criminal matters that go to the Naval Courts only publicly release the crime, verdict, and punishment. Our guy was thrown over the edge of Pelagos into the void the last month of summer.”
“What does this have to do with the ship-pair?” asked Andin.
“The court hearing for him was held at a local Naval Fort. A copy of all of the documents and records associated with the case are kept there. In fact I was planning on going there soon to steal them for you. While casing the job I was going through some shipping manifests and saw a large collection of tribunal documents being sent to the main naval archives at Lesser Pirenna.”
Andin questioned his friend, “You think we’ll run into the courier ship this weekend?”
“The very ship in question sank two months ago in a storm, just after school started.” Excitement grew in Fake’s voice, “Salvage missions are reserved for permanently stationed ship-pairs. Guess where she sank?”
Andin was impressed, “I’m guessing not very far from here.”
Fake nodded, “Just east of the island chain; and I can think of only one permanently assigned ship-pair in the area.”
“Considering you are telling me this now, I’m guessing Pria has a salvage dive planned for this weekend,” said Andin.
“There’s no guarantee that the court documents we want are down there, but it’s less of a risk than trying to break into a naval fort.”
The pair walked up the gangplank and saluted the master at arms. Deck Chief Sorrel greeted them in his usual fashion with a teasing threat, “We usually let stowaways swim home.”
“Mind if we tag along this weekend?” asked Andin. Chief pointed to Lady Pria standing on the bridge. The deck chief knew she would say yes but was duty bound to have them ask.
The ships’ keels were now thickly armored with the harvested ram from the Hollis shark. “Your girls look menacing,” said Andin to Pria.
“Prince Andin, Fake, come to offer a hand?” answered Pria.
“With your permission ma’am,” answered Fake.
“As usual your assistance is welcome,” answered Pria. She enjoyed their company and their presence helped flesh out her weekly reports beyond the repetitive ‘They’re still at the Academy’. The ships pushed away from the docks.
“Where are we going this time?” asked Fake coyly.
Pria told them about the planned salvage dive. The site was nearby; it was a short half day sail to the wreck. By mid afternoon the Moontide had dropped anchor near the sunken courier ship. Before the salvage operation could begin in earnest the site needed to be surveyed.
Diving gear was brought from below decks. The deckhands created a small barge out of the two life rafts. Swimmers jumped into the water and began their search. Soon one swimmer conjured an arrow of water over his head, signaling he had found the wreckage. “There we go,” said Pria.
Chief Sorrel ordered his ship movers to reposition the Moontide nearer and two more anchors were dropped. The folded crane arms were unpacked and rigged. Pria climbed the ladder down to the diving barge. “Splash the first bell,” she ordered. The brass diving bell hung suspended beneath the surface, held by Pria’s magic.
She turned to her diver, “Are you ready?” He told her yes and they fitted their bug-eyed goggles. Pria would guide the bell as it sank, using its weight to aid their own descent. The diver was studied in wind magic and would conjure air for both of them.
Pria stopped the bell before it reached the bottom. She signaled her diver and he conjured a large ball of air underneath the bell. This sent a purging bubble up the hose. On the surface the bubble was the signal to take the slack out of the chain and begin pumping air.
The chain tightened and the bell hung suspended just above the sea floor. The mages on the ship steadily pumped air into the bell. Pria and her diver breathed easily in it. The diver rested from the fatiguing task of conjuring air underwater while Pria swam the seventy feet back to the surface.
With the first bell in place work was much easier for the salvage crew. The Moontide splashed another bell. Once both bells on the Moontide were in place the Thresher sent in her divers on the opposite end of the wreckage.
Fake and Andin watched while the crews moved deliberately and efficiently. A steady grid of bubbles floated to the surface from the diving bells. Pria handed Andin a weighted belt and goggles, “Let’s go for a swim.”
Andin removed his tunic and climbed down to the barge. He took a big swallow of air and stepped into the ocean. The fire prince descended spiraling around the chain and hose connected to the first diving bell. After reaching the bottom he cleared his ears one last time and entered the metal dome.
The smooth lines of the courier ship hinted at its speed even underwater. “It looks fast,” said Andin looking through one of the bell’s small windows. “I think we do a good job with the pirates and sea monsters, but the Naval Post is the unsung hero of the fleet,” said Pria.
“What’s next?” asked Andin.
“Now that we have four air sources down we can start surveying the site up close, if it seems worthwhile we will rig the whole ship to be raised – but judging by the way she’s sitting it might just be cargo and instruments that we recover.”
Bags of salvage gear were lowered from above. Andin was more restricted than Pria or the other divers; he had to return to the bells for each breath. The water and wind users could stay down for much longer, keeping bubbles of air with them or creating it as needed.
The dive crew methodically covered the wreckage. Starting from the bow and working aft the salvage team took measurements with knotted line and scratched notes onto thin slates. Pria and the more proficient divers worked the innards of the vessel returning one after another to the diving bells to recover their strength.
Andin’s ventures lengthened with each trip. Soon he managed to poke around inside the downed ship. The experience was surreal for the Beldurian; the schooling fish, the hovering rays, and the curious sharks, all had an enchanting fluidity that the prince was dazzled by.
As the light faded to dusk Pria gave the signal to return to the surface. In pairs the salvage crew rose through the water column. “They’re barely kicking,” noted Andin.
In the echo of the diving bell Pria explained, “They command the water to move them, it’s easier that way.”
“Exhale as you rise,” said Pria before dunking her head back into the water. Andin took a breath and slowly kicked his way to the surface. The sun kissed the horizon as the fire prince and commodore reached the surface.
“How was it?” asked Fake eagerly.
“It was amazing,” answered Andin. The mages stopped operating the pumps only until all the swimmers were accounted for. The ships went quiet quickly after the sun set; diving operations were long and tiring days for the crew.
In hushed tones Fake asked, “Did you see anything?”
Andin whispered back, “Even if I did we’re going to have to wait until the cargo is loaded – there’s no room for secrecy down there.” Andin told Fake all he had seen then fell asleep shortly after.
The salvage crew returned to work as soon as the sun allowed it. Back underwater Andin helped cut open the jammed cargo doors. Bags of line and long canvas sacks were lowered to the dive site. One team of divers began moving pallets of cargo from the wreckage. A
nother bundled them with line and tied a canvas sack atop the pallets.
Chief Sorrel replaced Pria as today’s dive master. “What are the sacks for?” asked Andin. The chief tapped on the glass of the bell and explained, “We’ll fill them with air and float the pallets up; the ship movers can grab them from there.”
“My divers don’t have time to babysit, make sure he stays in the bell,” said the chief looking up through the glass. Andin ducked out of the bell to get a better view. Two swimmers escorted Fake down, keeping his head in a large bubble. The bubble reached the diving bell and Fake puddled inside.
Andin and Sorrel left to make room for the two escorts and Fake. The escort swimmers left for the surface and Andin returned to the bell. “Glad you could make it,” said Andin.
Fake smiled with his nose against a window, “This is incredible, it’s like a whole different world.”
A diver paid out a spool of hose connected to one of the diving bells. He pumped air into the first lifting sack. It slowly inflated and the cargo gently rose from the seafloor. The surface swimmers and ship movers loaded the cargo onto the deck.
“Clever,” said Andin. He swam to the line of pallets and tapped the diver inflating the canvas bags. Andin raised his hand as it started to glow with heat. A flood of steam bubbles rushed from his hand. The diver understood and gave Andin the okay sign.
The diver held the sack open as Andin quickly filled it with steam. The second pallet rose topside. Andin and the diver returned to the nearer diving bell. They watched as the surface crew pulled the package out of the water. The diver said to Andin, “This is much faster,” and left the diving bell.
One after another bundles of cargo were sent to the surface until the courier ship was nearly empty. Suddenly, Sorrel gave the signal to cease operations immediately. The divers all returned to their bells.
Fake asked, “What happened?”
Andin shrugged – he didn’t know.
The diver in their bell answered, “Pirates or a sea monster.” The three looked up; there was no new silhouette on the surface. The diver shrugged casually, “Sea monster then.”
Fake added, “All the fish are gone.”
Andin asked the diver, “What do you do if there’s a monster?”
The diver maintained his bizarre nonchalance, “Try not to die I guess.” Slowly their grubby shapes took form in the distance. “Sail mites,” said the diver. The mites were big and slow – crawling steadily towards the wreckage. “They’re migrating north, we don’t have much time now,” he added.
“They look harmless,” said Fake.
“The drones are – but not the soldiers,” answered the diver.
Sorrel gave the signal to resume work and swam to Fake’s bell. He took a moment to catch his breath, “Time to go back up illusionist.”
Sorrel and the diver swam Fake up to the surface. He explained the situation to Lady Pria, “Sail mite migration ma’am, they’re on the move straight through our salvage site.”
She nodded in understanding, “We’ll find the queen and let you know how much time you have.”
The first mite in the train reached the wreckage. The pace of the crew quickened as more and more cargo floated to the surface. Periodically, a mite drone would stop to feed, letting out her huge sails of feeding filter. More mites marched past.
Sorrel found the bell Andin was resting in, “Prince, my men can finish inflating the lifting bags, I need you below decks to cut out the cartographer.” Sorrel took two bubbles of air from the diving bell with him. The pair swam to where the bridge used to be.
The metal cartographer was bolted to the collapsed bridge deck. Andin carefully cut each one. As his breath ran out he waved to Sorrel, bringing the bubble of air. Andin breathed deeply and finished the work. Sorrel escorted him back to the bell. The whole area was littered with giant sail mite drones.
Andin gasped in the diving bell, pushing as much air into his lungs as he could. “We can take it from here,” said Sorrel. Andin stayed in the bell watching the crew strip everything of value from the courier ship. Recovered, the prince headed back to the row of cargo pallets and inflated more bags.
A pair of swimmers rushed down from the surface to Chief Sorrel. “The queen and her soldiers are only a half mile away, you have ten minutes.” The chief cracked a vial of black dye and shaped the number ten in the water over the divers. He made sure Andin raised the cartographer before any other cargo.
The chief’s eyes jumped back to the large dive clock on his diving bell. He cracked another vial of dye and drew a large five. Andin could only raise a few bundles before returning to the bell for air. The divers with the hoses were even slower. There simply wasn’t enough time to get them all.
With the queen and her soldiers nearly on them Sorrel gave the signal to surface immediately. He waited on the bottom until he saw all his swimmers safely ascending. The sail mite queen and her entourage overwhelmed the dive site, crushing the broken vessel.
The aggressive soldier mites clamped onto the rising diving bells. The crane arms moaned from the weight. “Chief, don’t lose my diving bells,” ordered Pria. Divers from both ships armed themselves for underwater combat. Andin tread water watching the subsurface ballet.
The divers kept their distance from the snapping jaws of the soldier mites. Methodically, they darted around the enemy probing the weak points in their armor. The fight was a slow motion affair. Swords cut and water hammered the soldier mites.
There was no communication between the divers. Their deadly choreography was the result of years of disciplined and dangerous training. The divers’ attacks looked effortless, the surest sign of skill. It was quite the show for the fire prince. One by one the soldier mites were defeated. One by one the diving bells were freed.