In Too Deep

Pearl sat brimming with excitement on the edge of her seat. Going to the surface was a rare occurrence; it had happened only four times in her fifteen years of life. She watched the needle on the depth gauge slowly tick toward zero. Seahorses fluttered in her stomach as her excitement grew. Her father slowed the submarine as they approached. Pearl watched the water outside the control deck windows lighten in color until it finally washed away, revealing a clear blue sky. Pearl jumped and slipped off her seat, mainly from excitement and partially from surprise at how bright the incoming light was. Her eyes were accustomed to the much darker conditions of the habitat nearly an eighth of a mile below the surface.

The hatch squeeled loudly as her father opened it. She climbed outside behind him and stood atop the large machine, squinting in the bright sunlight. He had given her a relic of his past life to make seeing up here easier: a thing he called sunglasses. The vastness of the ocean made her feel tiny. The water rippled and lapped against the hull of the submarine as it gently bobbed. There was no land visible in any direction, but there were several black dots on the horizon at all angles from their position. Her dad put his hand on her shoulder and spoke.

“What are you watching for?” he asked.

“The machines. To make sure none of them are coming toward us,” she replied.

“Right.” He strung a lanyard around her neck, hanging another relic: a pair of binoculars. “Let me know immediately if you see any heading this way.”

Pearl nodded. Her father turned and jogged as fast as he could, carrying a large and heavy toolbox towards the stern of the sub. He seemed as small as a fish when he reached the spot needing repairs. Pearl lifted the binoculars to her face and watched as he used a large wrench to unbolt a panel, which he promptly hinged open and disappeared inside.

Pearl turned her attention to the black specks all around them on the horizon. Pearl and her parents had spent months monitoring and logging the machines’ patrols to find a location and time when they could safely surface for the required repairs. Even so, the machines frequently changed their patterns, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t be happened across, hence Pearl being on watch duty. So far, the machines seemed to be moving as predicted; no immediate danger.

After checking all of the specks, Pearl relaxed and took some time to enjoy the surface. She walked lazily down the length of the sub toward its bow. Despite spending her whole life underwater, she was fascinated by the ocean’s waves. The way the water rolled, peaked, and dipped all around the sub. She stood at the crest of the bow, just above the control deck windows, and watched the waves break against the massive ship. Occasionally, they splashed up high enough to wet her feet. Far in the distance, she noticed something moving in the sky. Through the binoculars, she saw several curious-looking animals that appeared to be waving their fins to swim through the sky. Her mother had told her about these animals once, but she couldn’t remember what they were called. Even with the binoculars, they were too far away to make out any details, yet she was mesmerized by them for several minutes. Pearl lowered the binoculars and peered around, taking in the horizon. She admired the partitioning of sea and sky, and all the little dots scattered around it. Even the big one.

Wait, big one? Pearl’s stomach dropped. She whipped the binoculars up and peered through them. A large triangular machine was heading right toward them. “Crap!” she whispered to herself. She took off at a full sprint toward the stern of the sub, binoculars dangling against her chest.

“Dad! Dad! They’re coming! Dad!” she shouted as she ran. Her dad’s head popped up from inside the compartment. Pearl pointed toward the machine as she ran. He glanced, then dropped back into the compartment. Pearl reached the compartment, dropped to her knees, and looked inside. Her dad was frantically tightening a hydraulic line connection with a wrench.

“Radio your mom and tell her to get us ready to dive,” he shouted. “Get back to the hatch and watch the machine. If it looks like it noticed us, tell mom to dive immediately.”

“What if you’re not back yet?” Pearl asked.

He looked up at her and said sternly, “Dive anyway.”

Anxiety welled up in Pearl, and she felt a sudden urge to cry, but she knew they could not let the machines catch them. She lifted the binoculars and took a quick look at the machine again. It was still heading their way, but showed no indication that it had noticed them. Pearl stood up and started walking quickly back toward the hatch near the bow. She turned on her radio and quickly said “Mom, they’re coming, prepare to dive.” Her mom responded, “Preparing”, then Pearl quickly switched off her radio and picked up her pace.

Standing by the hatch, Pearl watched the machine through the binoculars, scrutinizing its every feature and movement. As she watched, she realized it wasn’t on a direct course for them, but it would pass by close enough to be dangerous. She glanced over toward the stern. The panel was still raised and, presumably, her father was still inside. “Hurry up dad!” she whispered. She continued watching the machine. Suddenly, the top part of the machine turned red, and it changed course to head directly to their position.

Pearl cursed out loud, then shouted, “Dad, hurry up!” She looked at he panel again and saw the heavy toolbox rise out of the hole and thump on the hull. The machine was now moving at full speed toward them. Pearl thumbed her radio, knowing she should power it on and tell her mom to dive, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her father was now frantically tightening the bolts on the panel. When he noticed her looking at him, he pointed down with a large gesture, telling Pearl to get inside and dive. She swallowed hard, but still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Pearl noticed another dot growing larger past the stern of the ship. The binoculars showed a second machine steaming toward them. It occurred to her that all of the machines in the area may be coming to investigate. She looked around and spotted no less than three more on a course to their position.

Pearl started to panic. Her father was still tightening bolts, but now he was yelling “Dive! Dive!” as loud as he could. Pearl was shaking with fear now. She stumbled as she tried to climb into the hatch and nearly fell into the ocean. It took her a moment to recover, and then she was finally able to mount the ladder. As she started to climb down, she noticed her dad was now running awkwardly toward the hatch with the large toolbox. She suddenly felt a rush of excitement, even though he was still yelling, “Dive! Dive!” Pearl left the hatch open and quickly climbed down into the control deck.

“Dive!” she shouted at her mom as she plopped into the navigator’s seat. Her mom depressed the button on the side of a lever on the control panel and moved it about a quarter of the way down its track. The sound of the ballast pumps filled the room. For a moment, nothing happened, but then Pearl felt the sub begin to sink. Anxiety filled her. She had left the hatch open for her dad. She wasn’t supposed to, but she did. If he didn’t make it, the ship would flood, and they would all die. But if the machines caught them, they would all die anyway.

There was a loud crash that startled Pearl and her mother. The large toolbox lay at the bottom of the ladder, its contents scattered hazardously around the control deck. The hatch squeeled as her father pulled it closed. Water began rushing into the hatch and spilling onto the control deck floor. He almost lost his grip on the ladder as he turned the wheel to seal the hatch closed under what essentially amounted to an artificial waterfall. Pearl’s mom pulled the lever further, the ballast pumps' volume increased, and the ship sank even faster. With the hatch fully sealed, Pearl’s father jumped down from the ladder, landing with a wet thud and nearly rolling his ankle on the handle of a hammer. Soaking wet, he sprinted to his seat. Pearl’s mom finally pulled the lever to its maximum. The ballast pumps screamed, and the sub descended so quickly that Pearl felt dizzy.

Pearl’s father began shutting off the sub’s systems. Pearl was too disoriented and anxious to keep track of how far they had gone. After several minutes, her mom stopped the sub. Everything went silent and pitch black as her father shut off the last of the sub’s systems. The only thing left on was a passive sonar receiver that estimated the position and distance of ships that sent out sonar pings. The system was useful for detecting danger, but it became increasingly inaccurate the deeper they went. Pearl listened to her parents’ breathing for a dozen tense minutes. Small red dots on the sonar screen blipped in and out, showing the estimated positions of the machines on the surface. Her mom peered back at her, trying to hide her worried expression.

To be continued...