Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep238: Episode 238: Deep Ocean Horror Stories
Episode Date: April 24, 2025Today’s phenomenal opening story is ‘Sarcophagus’, an original work by Scare in a Box, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.... https://www.reddit.com/user/scare_in_a_box/ Tonight’s second epic tale of terror is ‘The Ocean is much Deeper than You Think’, an original story Richard Saxon, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all (part three exclusively narrated before appearing anywhere else): https://www.reddit.com/user/richard-saxon Today’s final tale of of the macabre is the classic ‘The Danger from the Deep’, an old-school work by the wonderful Ralph Milne Farley, freely available in the public domain and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA 3.0 license. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/33016/pg33016-images.html#The_Danger_from_the_Deep
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Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon.
The deep ocean terrifies us because it is vast, dark and largely unexplored.
A world where sunlight never reaches and strange alien creatures lurk in the blackness.
Its crushing pressure, eerie silence and unknown depths tap into a primal fear of the unseen and uncontrollable.
We don't know what's down there, and that mystery combined with a sense of isolation and helplessness,
makes the deep sea one of the most haunting places on earth,
as we shall see in tonight's collection of tales.
As ever before we begin, a word of caution.
Tonight's stories may contain strong language
as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery.
That sounds like your kind of thing.
Then let's begin.
Our opening tale this evening is sarcophagus by scare in a box.
Consciousness returns slowly.
The drug's leaving Lorke's system.
to find he was moving slowly down, the walls around him made of metal, an elevator.
He breathed in deeply.
There were those who spoke of it, the sarcophagus, but no one knew the truth.
It seemed as though anyone who walked in never returned.
None were missed, and he wouldn't be either.
The choices he'd made no longer making him seem human to most others,
the end of his life is something they wouldn't be sadden by.
Not even his mother would cry.
Alaken stared at the door.
Escaping the elevator was an impossibility,
but there may be other chances.
Whatever the others had said
might be nothing more than stories
to spread fear into those who were chosen
the way that he'd been.
It was his time to be useful.
At least that was what they'd said,
so it was likely he'd been given some kind of job to do.
Finally, his consciousness fully.
was his once more. The elevator reached the right stop, and the door opened automatically.
Outside were guards. Each held a firearm pointed directly at Lorca. Something he'd become used to.
Stepping out, knowing it was what he was supposed to do, he looked at each of them in turn
before the sound of footsteps started to come from in front of him. At the same time, the elevator
started to move back up. Glancing back, no sign of it.
of an easy route to follow the elevator, Lorkan waited. The footsteps likely belonging to the
person who'd explain it all to him. When they stepped into the light, he saw it was a young woman
who looked as though she was barely out of college. He raised an eyebrow. She didn't seem to pay
any attention to his reaction. Larkin O'Connell? Who else was it going to be? nodding,
not wanting to anger her on the first day, he studied her. You have been brought to you. You have been brought
the sarcophagus to assist us in our research.
She gestured for him to follow her,
as though he had any other choice,
the guards generally urging him in that direction.
This facility is somewhere you will not be able to escape.
Your escapades are well known to us, Mr. O'Connell.
Saying nothing, certain he wasn't meant to,
Lorcan kept his eyes on where they were going.
The guards were watching him closely,
but if he was there to assist,
with some kind of research, it was likely he'd be dealing with scientists.
All it took was for one of them to make a mistake.
Yes, of course, don't believe me,
but you may when I explain more about the work you'll be doing.
She glanced back.
There have been those who thought they may be able to use me as their root out.
It didn't work for them, and it won't work out for you.
There was a certainty in her voice.
a lock and had never heard before.
Whatever you may imagine, I was chosen for a reason.
Yes, I am young, however, my father has been working on learning more for many years now,
and he's no longer able to deal with the depth.
We are under the sea, deep under the sea.
He stared at her back.
This is the deepest I believe any humans have ever been.
During one of my father's journeys down here, he found something.
Sadly, due to a lack of understanding of what it was, both his companions died, and it was there and he started to understand there was so much more to it than he could ever have imagined.
Now, after many years of studying, we understand better.
At some point in our distant past someone or something, build something down here.
Father believes it may be some kind of temple, connected to an old god, but so far the only thing we are certain on.
is that we haven't yet explored everything.
It's below us, deeper than we are, and you're our next explorer.
You'll be going into the ruins.
There will be no lights.
The strangest thing about the ruins is light sources of all kinds are useless.
In the early days we tried them all, attempting to find a solution to the problem.
Back when father first found it, they used ropes, believing it would be enough,
finding it wasn't the case.
Before you're sent in, you'll be given a suit
which uses sound waves in order for you to navigate,
similar to a bat.
We know these work, although so far we haven't had anyone return to us.
We simply have an expanded map
with another disappearance to add to the list.
You may be an exception to the rule, Mr. O'Connell.
Well, that seemed unlikely.
Was he permitted to ask questions?
Lork and reged a hand through his hair,
eyes still on the back of the woman leading him through the facility,
someone who'd never given him a name.
Or what did it matter?
When it was obvious, he was going to be lost within the ruins like all the others.
How many had there been through the years?
So it got to the point where everyone knew about it.
So far you've been very quiet.
It's not unusual.
Finding out where you are often has that effect on people.
But I am willing to answer any question.
questions you may have at this point, if I have the answers to give you. Does anything actually
matter? Lorkin shook his head when she glanced back at him. Her eyes emotionless.
Well, you can answer my questions, but I'm going to walk into that ruin alone, knowing I'm
never going to return. Anything you tell me now means nothing. Maybe it does. Some have been fascinated by
the very idea of the ruin, believing they'll be the one to find their way out. You, on the other
hand, have gone in the opposite direction, not willing to think it's possible that you may be an
exception, and therefore all of this means nothing to you. I've found that this has an effect on
how much deeper you can get. Those who have seen themselves being different have been lost to us
far sooner. Have you never been scared, one of us might make it back out? Why scared? Mr. O'Connell,
if one of you does end up becoming the exception to the rule,
they will change everything for us.
She stopped, turning to look at me, her eyes on mine.
I have no doubt what you think of us,
and the decisions we've made in order to map these ruins.
Had they been anywhere else,
I'm certain the government would have closed them up a long time ago.
Instead, they keep sending you to us,
in order to understand more.
Understanding is more important than I hear.
think you could possibly understand. How were they made? Does this mean there were civilizations
who were able to get this deep in order to build their temples? We know so little. The very thought
of one of you returning is something we haven't dared to have, as there have been hundreds
lost. Too many. At times I've argued against this, saying it would be best to stop. Yet there
are those who argue that we can't. Not until we know what's in there.
If it's something dangerous, we need to find a way to stop it, although I have no reason to think it's something we could do easily.
More than anything, I want someone to be the exception, to find their way back to tell us what they've found.
But every time it doesn't happen, my belief in it can die a little more.
One day, I have to believe something will change, and the person we send into the ruins will come back.
If I didn't, I'd not be able to do my job.
something I have to admit I sometimes wish wasn't mine at all
but I'm the only person who followed in father's footsteps
he's unwilling to give up the same way the government is
leading us to being disposable
yeah we made bad choices in our lives
so it doesn't matter if we don't return
if it was someone else everything would be different
yes it would
and I don't see you was disposable Mr. O'Connell
I want you to return.
She stepped over to a locker, taking out a suit that looked like it might have been based on those divers' war.
Please remove your clothes and put on the suit, ready to make your journey into the ruin.
Blinking, Lorcan took it.
Why, you want me to strip right here?
It's nothing we haven't all seen before.
Shrugging, certainly it didn't matter.
He stripped off his prisonware, slowly shit.
chiming into the suit.
As he did, she was focused on a screen instead of him,
while the guards all had their firearms still pointed at him.
There was no way of knowing what he might do,
although it wasn't like he tried taking on multiple guards at the same time,
when he did have a chance of finding a way out down there.
Maybe that's why no one returned, pulling the hood over his head.
A small headphone slipped into his ear.
Let me know if you can hear the voice of the computer.
She tapped a couple of points on the screen.
She'd be coming over to you in a second.
Good afternoon, Mr. O'Connell.
Yeah, I can hear it.
Notting, she looked at him one last time.
This is where you start.
Please continue to follow the path.
You'll find a point where the light stop.
When that happens, you've reached the ruins.
Breathing in deeply.
Rorke and took a moment to work through his emotions,
preparing for what leaving probably meant.
They didn't push him to move,
seeming to understand the situation.
Instead, they gave him that time.
Maybe she did actually want one of them to return
and saw him as their chance for it to happen.
It was impossible to know for certain.
Starting down the path, in silence,
Lorcan didn't look back at any point.
all he'd see were those guards still pointing their firearms at him
ready to shoot at any point should it be necessary
and it wasn't
he was willing to do what they wanted him to do
however illogical it was for them to keep sending people down into a ruin
they knew probably killed anyone who entered it
reaching the darkness took a few minutes
enough time to put a lot of distance between them and anything that did come out
because if there wasn't something in there
why was no one ever finding their way back or to somewhere else entirely?
Maybe there were and somewhere within was some kind of teleporter that would take him somewhere else entirely.
Lorkin laughed at himself.
Granddad was the one who read him stories about other worlds up until he wasn't there anymore.
His death hitting hard.
The memories were still painful.
He sighed, pushing them back.
the way he always did.
Mom was the one who tried to use that
as the explanation for how he got himself
into the position he was,
and maybe it did have something to do with it.
If it hadn't been so sudden,
one moment here and the next gone,
it might have been easier.
Only death was never easy.
Understanding that pain
should have been the reason
he never forced it onto someone else.
Instead, Lorkin found himself in a dark place,
wanting everyone to hurt the way he did.
Some said everything would have been different had he been in therapy, able to actually talk to someone, working through those emotions.
They were probably wrong.
Even though it was rare, often thought it was much more likely there was something wrong inside him.
If he wasn't, he might have cared when he killed those people.
Grandad was the only person he truly cared about and losing him.
Well, it was an inevitability.
All mortals died.
Even he would, potentially in the ruins he'd almost reached.
It was probably for the best he was there.
At least his death would mean something.
To those who wanted to understand what was there.
Reaching the point where all the lights stopped,
Lorkin gave himself another moment.
Knowing when he stepped into the darkness,
everything was going to be different.
Finally, after longer than he should have waited,
he stepped into the darkness,
losing all sight in the second it took.
Touching the wall with one hand,
Lorcan at least knew he was somewhere.
It wasn't all a hoax.
He breathed in deeply, slowly,
running his hand over the cold stone.
Walk forward, Mr. O'Connell,
until I tell you to turn.
Doing as he was told, the easiest task,
Loken thought of the woman who'd sent him down there.
How similar her voice was to that of the computer.
Maybe they'd used her to create it, because she had made the decision to take over from her father,
so those who started wandering the ruins would at least have some consistency.
Left here, knowing he should do what he was told straight away,
Logan still reached out with one hand to see if there was a wall on the right.
There was. Interesting.
Growing left, a silence lasting longer than it had before.
He found himself wondering how large the room.
ruin was.
Didn't have any idea of what it looked like.
Maybe he should have asked more questions.
Ignoring the fact he was walking into something he knew nothing about was stupid.
Right now.
Once again, Lorcan reached out for the other wall,
realizing there was nothing there.
As he turned, his arm brushed against a wall in front of him.
So, he'd been moments away from walking directly into a wall,
something he definitely would have done had he not reacted differently to the voice.
He could give me a little more warning.
He wasn't going to be able to hear him,
probably programmed not to say anything more than it did.
Unless you want me to break my nose on a wall.
There was no response.
Exactly what he had expected.
Loken kept walking,
not feeling anywhere near close to tired,
which might have something to do with the suit.
Hopefully there was also something within it that would stop him
from becoming hungry or thirsty,
otherwise there were going to be issues in the future.
Sighing, Lorker knew there was nothing else he could do,
other than think and wait for the suit to tell him where to go again.
Thinking meant going over everything he'd done before,
a nightly ritual for him most of the time,
as he tried to work out whether his life could have ended differently,
or if he was always going to be the kind of person
who ended up wandering in the darkness as a disposable explorer,
chosen by the government to do something
they wouldn't let anyone else do.
Another right.
What prepared them before?
Locke and checked all the walls around him.
They were all open, but he needed to go right,
however tempting it was to go against the computer.
It might be the way he was able to find a route out of the ruins,
although if he did,
was he going to be able to find a way back to the surface?
Being deeper than the sea made it that much more complicated,
was probably the main reason they weren't worried about someone being able to escape if there was a way out.
Glancing left, even though he still couldn't see anything, turned right.
Someone else gone the same way as him in the past.
It was simply following their route,
and eventually the time would come when Lorcan would step down a path no one had ever been on before.
Not that he would know when it was.
The computer might have that knowledge, without being a bit of a little bit of a little bit of,
able to share it with him.
Walking for what felt like
longer than before,
Lorken closed his eyes.
It wasn't as though it mattered
whether they were open or closed,
the darkness unlike anything he'd ever seen before.
In some ways,
it was easier to be looking at the soft darkness
of his own eyelids,
rather than the hard darkness of the ruins around him.
How was it even possible?
There was no darkness quite as dark
anywhere else, at least not that Lorkan,
of. It was one of those things he'd learned about from Grandad's. Was it simply his vision? At least
when his eyes were open. Close, they couldn't see anything at all. Granddad would have been fascinated
by these ruins. He was the kind of person who would have thrown as many people as necessary at the
problem in order to learn as much as possible. Now Lorkin was one of the people helping with that.
Finding answers to a question that was beyond all human understanding.
At least right then.
Randad would have wanted him to volunteer for it.
Maybe he had, by following the path he'd found himself on,
learning more about a different kind of darkness.
The darkness someone could have within their soul.
Breaking a hand through his hair, Lorkan kept moving.
Filling his hair reminded him that he did still exist.
He was still a person, walking through a dark ruin,
only able to know where he was going thanks to the computer within his suit.
Someone might have been able to find their way through a certain distance without help.
But why would they try?
Obviously someone had the first people to find the ruins,
walking into a darkness they definitely couldn't have understood
because they were explorers.
It was what they did.
No one sane would make the choice to delve deep into the depths the way they had.
How was it even possible?
Another of the questions he should have asked before.
Going left, not checking the other walls, Lorkan kept walking.
What did it matter?
He didn't need to know anything.
Someone else was going to learn everything he'd found out
because they'd chosen him as their next explorer.
It wasn't something he'd have ever chosen for himself,
but then his choices hadn't exactly been good ones.
Do you remember killing him?
The voice was still the same, but thoughtful.
Killing who?
No list is long.
Why did you do it?
How long's a piece of string?
Loken shrugged.
Pain is sometimes stronger than we are.
We are?
Humans, mortals.
He breathed in deeply, half wishing there was someone to look at.
Who are you?
Now that's an interesting question.
but you already know the answer.
All you need to do is look deep inside yourself.
Who are you?
Do you remember dying?
Switching from female, the voice belonging to the woman upstairs, to male,
seemed as though Lorcan was talking to himself.
Another of the many things he wasn't able to understand.
How could the voice change if everything was programmed to work the way it did?
Is it something they were doing to him?
attempting to turn to go back
Lorkin found himself trapped in place
Closing his eyes once more
He thought of the questions the voice had asked
He'd asked
Who was he?
Did he remember dying?
How could he remember dying when he was alive?
Deeper than before
memories swirling around him
Lorkan saw himself as he was
Long before he found himself in prison
The man below him was one of the men he'd killed, becoming a serial killer, wanting to find a way to free himself.
Only the man didn't look the way he had before.
He looked like Lorken.
Lorken killed Lorkan.
It was the same for every memory.
He saw things as they were, as they'd been, and how they were going to be.
Within the prison there were hundreds of Lorkans.
Some were prisoners.
all of them arrested for one crime or another, placed together to pay for their bad choices.
Others were the guards, watching over the other Lorcan's, as Lorken the true Lorken tried to understand what he was seeing.
Was the voice being controlled by something, trying to make him lose his sanity?
So he'd spend the rest of his life, however short it would end up being, running through the darkness, never to find his way out.
Insanity is an interesting theory, but no one might be.
task is not to break you in that way. You are to know the truth, the whole truth, and make a
decision as you are the next to walk these paths, the next to find their way into the abyss.
Do you remember why you created it? Do you understand who you are? Lorkan shook his head.
It was obvious he didn't understand who he was, but he knew where to find the answers,
if the voice was right. And maybe the voice was right.
He breathed in deeply trying to find his centre, another of the things his grandfather had taught him when he was younger.
Controlling his more negative emotions was important.
Only then he'd lost his centre with his grandfather.
Finding it once more was the beginning.
Going back to that lesson, Lawkin found himself looking at himself.
His grandfather was him too, a hard thing to ignore, but he managed it, as he heard the right choice in his head.
rather than his own.
Although, if he was honest with himself,
his granddaughter almost sounded like he would
if he was many years older.
Connecting with the control he'd lost,
Lorcan opened his eyes,
and it was as though he was able to see the truth
for the first time in his life.
He was in the middle of what looked to be some kind of nebula,
alone like he'd always been,
something slowly becoming more painful
as the years passed by.
Years, decades, centuries,
millennia. Everything was the same way it had always been. Earth almost caught to him, looking as it
always had, beautiful, lush, home to animals and nothing more. Going down to it, look and walk
through the trees, breathing in the air and thought about what to do next. How was he going to change
things for the better? Was it even possible? The animals didn't seem to fear him.
One, a wolf, moved closer.
It didn't have a name then, but Lorcan knew it as it had become, a dog.
The kind of pet he'd once had when he was younger,
until the time came when it left him too.
The pain probably what ended up breaking him.
Death was complicated in so many ways.
Petting the wolf, Blorkin thought about his future and what it was going to hold.
Nothing in the universe.
He was alone and would always.
be alone unless he did something
to change that future.
It wasn't as though he couldn't.
Leaving the wolf with one last
scratch behind the ears,
he delved deep into earth.
Going through the layers deep enough
it was likely never to be found.
Lorcan started work.
What it was needed
was to be a safe place
for those who learnt the whole truth
about who he was.
Somewhere he could make the choice once more.
If it was right to keep up
the things as they were. Maybe the time would come when he'd bring an end to it all.
There was no way of knowing if that would happen, or when it would be, or who'd make the choice
in the end. Little by little, he created the ruin, the abyss, a hiding place for the truth.
It wouldn't be easy to find, those who did would learn everything. From the beginning to that moment
as they stood within the darkness, making a decision that might change everything. The very way
he'd made a decision he knew would change everything for the best.
Moving from the ruin to the surface once more,
Lorkan started work on the next stage.
Beings made from his consciousness,
slowly dwindling himself down to nothing,
and yet he was everything.
He was everyone, man, woman, child.
Not the animals, they were something else entirely,
but it didn't matter,
because finally he felt like he'd made the right choice.
As he had, that thought,
he let himself forget.
Lorcan no longer knew who he was.
He was simply another human,
from there came the billions who inhabited Earth,
all of them part of the beginning.
Unlike anyone else, he knew the whole truth about the world.
Others had made the same journey,
learned the same truth,
with none of them making the decision to return.
The darkness was no longer impenetrable.
Able to see the ruin,
which was better called a maze,
somewhere his cells would wander until they touched the truth,
the suit becoming part of them in a way it hadn't been before.
Breathing in deeply, Loken sat down on the stone.
If he left the ruin, everything would fade away.
Like before, he'd be alone.
The worst part was that he'd know he was alone.
Maybe he'd remember all the lives he'd lived,
able to dwell in those memories,
only it would never be the same as it was.
Yet humans
done so much bad
The choice he'd made
changed Earth in multiple ways
Most of them terrible
And Lorca knew if he headed back through the maze
Gaining all those people as a part of him
Once more
Everything would be different
Earth would return to how it was before
A paradise
Was he truly willing to be selfish enough
To let himself destroy a planet
Fighting down on his lip
feeling the pain, he thought of all the lives he'd lived where he'd hurt in one way or another,
traumatized by those around him, because they were traumatized themselves.
Went down from one generation to the next.
Lorkin's own life a reminder of that, something that broke him.
Others were broken in a similar way, hence prison, being sent down to the sarcophagus,
knowing he was likely to die, but that death wasn't the worst possibility,
And he'd never known.
Never had a way to.
The truth hidden in the very deepest depths of earth.
Something people were going to keep exploring.
Another thing he could keep from happening,
if he made the decision to walk back.
All it took was him walking back through the maze
to find there was no one there.
No one anywhere.
A low.
Closing his eyes, lork and thought of the good in the world.
It existed everywhere.
He might not have been able to see it.
His own pain that much stronger,
but he was able to see it as he sat in the maze,
the ruin, the abyss, the sarcophagus,
and, more than anything else, the truth.
How did the others decide?
Exactly the way you are.
Those who come down here
found life to be the most complicated it could be.
Part of the reason you're the ones
who need to make the choice.
You're the ones who truly understand pain
in a way those who are happy cannot.
They aren't able to understand how bad things are at times,
yet, as you have thought, there is also good.
Pain was something Lorken felt before,
as he wandered the universe, searching for someone to be with,
to not be alone any longer.
Millennia of hunting for that one thing,
and in the end he felt.
it. But it wasn't what he expected it to be. Instead, it was a world he was able to claim for his
own to build something which wasn't perfect. Nothing could be perfect. He was fallible, so his
creation was fallible. They make mistakes. Lorkan made mistakes, letting the pain get the better
of him. He wasn't the only one who did. But it not been for the others, those who made bright choices,
he might have made the decision to walk back through the mate to where she was waiting,
only she wouldn't be there any longer.
She'd be one of the first to become part of him again,
along with the guards and anyone else in the facility.
From there it would be the rest of humanity,
little by little until he was the only one left.
He wouldn't be lorkin anymore.
Instead, he'd be the wanderer once again, with nothing.
Earth would be able to return,
to how it was, and maybe it was the choice he should make for the planet.
But he couldn't.
Leaving would destroy him.
Able to see it in a way he couldn't before, he saw how loneliness was slowly transforming him.
That was part of the reason it was both dark and light within the human race.
He might have become dark enough to destroy the entire universe because it hadn't given him what he wanted, a companion, someone to love.
the way he'd come to love in so many different ways.
Maybe he'd destroy Earth by staying.
Surely it was better to sacrifice one planet than it was to sacrifice them all.
Lorkin's decision was made.
He stayed sat in the ruins, the same way all the others had done before him,
hundreds of them having made a similar choice.
They chose the universe over Earth.
They chose their own sanity over anything else,
Yes, a selfish choice.
Yet it was the logical one,
the most logical one for everything.
He thought back to the wolf,
scratching ears,
one animal giving him a moment of something
he could never imagine before.
It was then he knew what he needed,
in a way he hadn't before.
So he took it.
One day he might not need it.
But that day hadn't come yet.
Our second tale of terror this evening is,
The ocean's much deeper than you think.
By Richard Saxon.
They told me you were experienced in harsh waters.
James said as he pointed out the pearls of sweat that had formed on my forehead.
Yeah, I do.
I replay moments before hurling the remnants of a less than appetizing lunch off the side of our ship.
It's just that, you look a bit green around the gills, he continued with a smirk.
We just met us.
a few hours ago. I've been airlifted to USS Orion, the sea lift handling abyssal transport
capsules for a classified project conducted by the United States Navy. I guess they failed to mention
that I'm much better underwater in submarines. I shot back. Considering the circumstances,
his casual demeanour left an uncomfortable atmosphere among the workers. They all knew what
my visit entailed, but just like myself, they were scant with information.
All I knew was there might be a contagious infection at the bottom of the ocean, and my job
was to either disprove it or to confine the entire crew aboard the station.
As soon as we were positioned securely on top of the Tonga Trench, we were rushed into
the transport capsule, a minuscule, vertical submarine designed to simply take us to the base
on the ocean floor, 20,000 feet below us.
I entered the sub, feeling excited, while also dreading the return to the deep blue.
It had been ten years since serving as a hospital corpsman, one of the few actually stationed
aboard a submarine. Over the years I clearly lost the natural sense I once had for the ocean,
yet I longed desperately for it.
Whenever you're ready, Doc, one of the crew members said, impatiently waiting to drop us into the abyss.
I raised my thumb
As ready as I'll ever be
Go ahead
Ten feet
The sunlight's own
The impact with the ocean
Lightly shook the capsule
As we submerged
My nausea quickly diminished
And a sense of peace
washed over my mind
I was back
Outside the window
A few curious fish
Accompanied our journey downwards
Various sea life
Attracted by the cargo ship
Following to see us off
James piloted the miniature sub, having done the trip a thousand times before, it wasn't anything new to him.
Myself, I'd never been below 2,000 feet, and never had I been able to look through the window and admire the mostly unexplored blue world.
3,300 feet, the midnight zone.
As we sank deeper towards the abyss, the last strays of sunshine vanished.
We'd left the realm of sunshine and mankind
All in favour for the domain of darkness
First time in the abyss right
James asked after a long bout of silence
Yeah
I served aboard a submarine for a few years
But well they never go a very drape
This
This is something else
He smiled at me
Well you're in for a treat then
We're going all the way down
Talos sits right at the edge of the trench.
Ain't nothing quite like it.
Any sea life once curious about our suburb had long since retreated towards brighter areas.
The rapidly increasing pressure had proven hostile to most,
but some resilient little creatures had found a way to thrive in places one thought to be lifeless.
The miracles of the ocean.
Within half an hour, we'd reached a depth of ten thousand feet.
beyond the 15-inch glass pane separating us from certain death lay nothing but ever-lasting darkness.
For all we knew, the two of us could have been all that existed in that void, if not for the sound of the outer hull settling under the pressure, a constant reminder about the vastness of the ocean.
To distract myself from the unsettling creaking sound, I asked James about the only thing I could think about.
why don't you tell me more about what happened down there james had acted casual thus far but my question quickly changed his nonchalant expression to a frown they briefed you on the surface didn't they of course but
well that'll have to do he said firmly thirteen thousand one hundred feet the abyssal zone the world outside hypnotized me staring so faring so far as
into nothing, knowing there could be a full world only a couple of feet before you was bizarre.
I'd never experienced true darkness until that day, and to think a good portion of Earth's life
had existed within it for millions of years. It terrified me. When I served aboard USS Cataseer,
my captain had explained why they don't put windows on submarines. He told stories about
shipmates going crazy after years at sea, that the isolation.
or distance from the mainland never bothered any of them.
He firmly believed that, staring into the ocean and pondering its secrets was what truly
drove men from their sanity, and to combat this, they never put windows on their vessels.
It was clearly a tale he'd made up, seeing what truly lies beyond the surface brought back
these memories.
Maybe he was right, after all.
My sinister thoughts were interrupted by a dim light appearing in the distance.
A red dot dancing blissfully up and down, getting closer to our little sub.
It was a jellyfish.
Ah, would you look at that? James said as he pointed at the little creature,
so fragile yet defying the deep sea pressure.
Another light joined in.
Then a few more, and before long a symphony of pulsating,
crimson lights formed around our capsule,
welcoming us with the warmth of thousands of stars,
making up their own little galaxy
thousands of feet below the surface.
It was the most magnificent thing I'd ever seen.
A bloom of jellyfish
happily existing in such hostile conditions.
I couldn't help but feel impressed.
They're called a taller jellyfish, James stated.
They don't usually venture this far down,
but there's something about this place that seems to attract them.
I usually see a few on my journeys down here,
but never anything like this.
I nodded in response,
too mesmerized by the sight to notice what he'd said,
but as quickly as they appeared, they vanished,
once more leaving us in absolute darkness.
Listen, Doc, I'm sorry about that outburst earlier, James said.
I turned towards him, turning my back to the darkness for the first time.
It made me feel vulnerable.
You got to understand.
This ain't something we usually deal with.
And Mike, well, I've known him most of my life.
I know how much this sucks, believe me.
I'm just trying to get as much info as possible, for all our sakes, I said.
Yeah, well, there's nothing I could tell you anyway.
The airlock has been on lockdown for the past two days.
We've been under strict orders not to open it until you deem it's safe enough to do so.
I didn't ask any further questions.
I dealt with contagions ever since leaving the Navy.
and 90% of the time, they were simple overreactions.
19,700 feet.
The ocean basin.
For the first time since we left the ship, the radio came to life,
emitting a static sound, one that slowly took the shape of a man's voice.
James, can you hear me? the voice asked.
Loud and clear, Captain.
I've got our man from the CDC with me as well.
We're just about ready to dock.
great the crew is getting impatient we the radio started breaking up the radio is dark at section a don't it shut off completely welcome to the abyssal zone james said the radio has been acting strange lately imagine giving us a state-of-the-art station but calms from the last millennium through the window we could see a massive dome lit up by hundreds of lines
Three paths stretched from its centre, each lit up by different colours, making sectors A, B and C.
There was something else lit up by the station's light. At first, just obscured figures leaving shadows
in the sand. Unless we got closer, I realised they were fish. Hundreds, if not thousands,
of dead sea creatures littering the ocean bed. Their corpse is mangled from the intense pressure.
Christ
What the hell is up with the fish?
I asked, horrified.
Same as the Atala.
Something attracts them down here.
They swim until their bodies break under the pressure,
and then they sink.
What could possibly do that?
There are a few theories,
but from what we can tell,
it's a sound that we periodically hear from the trench.
The docking process in itself
took quite some time.
The altar hull
had changed ever so slightly due to the high pressure, just enough so that fitting into the station
proved a challenge. As the doors finally opened, I stumbled outside the capsule, greeted by three
of the crew members aboard. You're the doctor, right? The oldest of them asked. That's correct,
I said as he reached out his hand to introduce himself. My name's Robert Lewis, I'm the captain
assigned to Talos. He said as he shook my hand.
Thank you for coming this far. I know it's not the most pleasant journey.
He seemed polite enough, though clearly sleep-deprived, with bloodshot eyes and greasy hair.
This is Jennifer Burke, one of our biologists, and that's Henry Gale, our technician, he said.
They both shook my hand, and neither making eye contact as they did.
Hey, Cap, where's Abby? James asked.
Still at Section B, she's not doing too well, as I'm sure.
you can understand, he responded. James nodded. Let's talk, Robert said as he gestured for me to
follow. The hallways were narrow, dimly lit up with lights that flickered, constant creaking emitting
from the walls. It looked disproportionate, considering how large it had all seemed from the outside,
and as a rather tall guy, I had to crouch down to keep my head from knocking into the ceiling.
I'm sorry about the grim mood, Robert said.
It's the first time we're dealing with something like this.
I'm assuming they told you about the situation on the surface, he asked.
I did, but I have to admit, I'm a bit fuzzy on the details.
As are we, Mike put himself in lockdown as soon as he returned to the station,
and we haven't had clearness to open it yet.
He, Mike, didn't give any good reason.
I asked. He never got the chance. He fell over dead the second he hit the button.
Robert led us into the central dome. In contrast to the hallways, it was a pleasant surprise.
A large living space filled with furniture and personal affects. Had I not known better,
I could have believed we were still on the surface. Mike discovered some microorganisms down
in the trench, a new type of parasite, he said. He claimed,
they were able to withstand any amount of pressure, which isn't a surprise down here, but well,
he also explained that they were completely unaffected by rapid changes in environment,
Robert said as he headed inside an office.
Did he believe it was contagious? I asked.
Seeing as he was our microbiologist, I can't really come up with another fathomable conclusion.
Needless to say, we destroyed all the samples, but we still don't know why he put himself into
lockdown. Robert sighed. But that's not the strangest thing. I waited patiently for him to continue.
While he tried to form words, he clearly had trouble believing himself. We lost him down in the
trench for three entire days. The tracking system failed and the comms went down. We did whatever he
could, but it was futile. Even if we had found him.
He only had enough oxygen for ten hours.
So we, unfortunately, well, we presumed he died.
And then, out of nowhere, his tracker reappeared on our systems,
showing he was moving back up the Tonga elevator.
And though he never responded to any of our attempts at contacting him,
he was clearly alive.
How?
It's impossible, yet it happened.
Once we let him into the station,
He simply locked it down and fell over dead on the ground.
Before Robert could continue, the technician walked into the office.
When you examine him, be careful not to damage the EPM suit.
It's highly...
This is hardly the time, Henry, Robert commanded, glaring at him.
I'm just saying, this is a billion-dollar project.
Why don't you go get the equipment for our doctor here?
Robert demanded, getting more agitated by the...
minute. Look, Captain, if you just let me go into the airlock, I could take all the necessary
precautions. Absolutely not. Do you think headquarters would have sent the damn CDC if they thought
we could handle it? For Christ's sake, Henry, know your limits. The technician left and quickly
returned with a modified hazmat suit and some surgical supplies, and we moved on towards Section B.
unlike the hallways we traversed before, these were large and well lit up.
As we arrived at the airlock, we found Abbey standing before the glass door, staring longingly
at Mike's lifeless body.
Abby, Robert said.
I know, I know, it's time, she responded as she turned around.
Oh, you're the doctor, she asked, her eyes red and voice trembling.
I nodded.
You'll figure out what did this to him, won't you?
I just don't understand.
Abby, why don't you come with me while they work?
Robert said.
You don't need to see this.
As Robert led her back to the Central Dome,
Henry started unpacking the cart of medical supplies,
including isolation drapes and the hazmat suit.
All right, I'm going to guide you through this.
No need to mess up a perfectly good EPM suit,
Henry said.
What does CPM mean anyway? I asked.
Ex-sacertal pressure modulator.
Henry said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
James and Jennifer helped me seal the hazmat suit
while Henry hung up the isolation trains.
I stepped through while Jennifer entered a code behind me to open the airlock.
My ears popped as they sealed the door shut behind me.
Both the drapes and the airlock were transparent, meaning they could observe everything I did,
in addition to a mounted camera on my shoulder for closer view, displayed on the monitor on the other side.
Just by the control panel, Mike lay dead, wearing a massive black suit,
looking more like a robotic piece of machinery than a diver's gear.
There were several cables and hooks hanging from the ceiling,
and just turning him over was a massive.
task as he weighed about half a ton wearing that suit. His face was pale as a sheet,
with thin streaks of blood pouring from every available orifice. The eyes were read from
conjunct hyval bleeding, completely ridding them from any white. I'm ready, I said. All right,
first thing you need to do is to simply inspect the suit. Look for any breaches in the integrity.
It shouldn't be possible, but in the unlikely event that something broke through, a self-healing
mesh should have formed.
It kind of looks grey.
I looked over every inch of his suit, from top to bottom.
There, his feet, Henry yelled.
Sure enough, there was a patch of grey that stood out from the matte black metal covering the rest of him.
Oh, something actually perforated his suit, Henry said, surprised.
I got closer, giving them a bed,
better view on the monitor. Clearly the puncher wasn't what killed him, though, he added.
I had to agree with that assessment. Any breach not sealed off within a nanosecond would
immediately crush him, but it seemed that the mesh had replaced whatever penetrated the suit
at the same time as it was removed. Okay, next, attach the cables to his shoulder. They're
color-coded, so it should be easy enough.
I attached the cables as instructed, which
caused the suit to light up and start unhinging.
The front of the suit opened up, revealing
Mike's completely mangled body.
What the hell? James asked.
That's not pressure damage, Henry responded.
Mike's ribs were broken outwards.
Oh, they had not torn apart his flesh.
his chest seemed to have expanded to almost twice its normal size.
I continued to remove the helmet, pulling it off his head.
I looked into his eyes for a brief moment,
baffled as to what could have caused his internal organs to essentially explode.
For the briefest of moments, it seemed like his eyes moved to meet my gaze.
Did you just see that? I asked.
No one said a word.
We all just stared at Mike, waiting for something to happen.
His eyes moved again, darting in random directions as he started gargling, violently contracting his chest.
Oh God, is he still alive? Jennifer asked.
He opened his mouth, letting thousands of massive worms pour out onto the floor.
They immediately crawled in every direction, up the walls onto the ceiling.
desperately searching for a way out.
Mike continued to spew out more slimy worms.
His mouth tore open in the process,
leaving his jaw completely unhinged before falling off.
Once all the worms seemed to have exited his corpse,
his chest tore open, revealing even larger worms.
It quickly became apparent that all of his organs had been consumed,
replaced with the dead.
disgusting creatures.
Some of them started clinging to my suit as I swatted at them in panic.
None of the others knew what to do.
They could only stare at me, flailing around.
As the worms touched each other, their flesh temporarily fused,
forming longer versions of themselves,
growing in size and then breaking off again.
They wrapped around my arms and legs.
I begged for someone to help me,
but what could they do?
"'Hang in there!' Henry yelled as he fumbled with the panel for the airlock.
Within seconds, a few small taps emerged from the ceiling,
spewing what I could only assume was liquid nitrogen.
Whatever it was, the worms froze in place,
freezing to the point where I could break them into tiny pieces.
It only took a moment, but all the worms had been killed off.
And though my suit had partially protected me from the cold,
I collapsed exhausted and shivering onto the ground.
Get me the fuck out of here, I demanded, knowing fully well they couldn't do that until I dealt with the infestation.
Robert just returned in time to see what the commotion was about,
and upon seeing what remained of Mike lying torn to pieces on the ground, he stopped in his tracks.
After a minute of catching my breath, I got some sense back.
With some morbid sense of humour and functioning on autopilots, I turned towards Henry.
Sorry, but the suit isn't going to be salvaged.
We're rejecting the whole frickin' airlock as soon as I get out of here.
Henry turned to Robert, pleading for him to make me reconsider, despite what we'd all just witnessed.
But Robert took my side.
After removing the recording unit from the EPM suit, I packed the entire.
entire thing into an easily ejectable container while making sure that no worms remained on my suit.
All I took was a small sample of a frozen worm, packed into a vacuum container.
I exited the airlock and handed the sample over to Jennifer.
She'd prepared the previous parasites brought back by Mike,
and I told her to get everything ready so I could determine what we were dealing with.
Robert studied the procedure of ejecting the ALOX contents, including what remained of Mike
and the EPM suit, Henry pouting the whole time.
James hadn't moved an inch since the event.
He turned sickly pale, as if he just realized the severity of the situation.
We have to tell him, Captain.
He said quietly after a few minutes.
Tell me what?
I asked, while getting out of the hazmat situation.
suit. Robert took a deep breath, mulling over his options. You're right. Tell me what, I repeated.
The real reason while we're stationed down here. Death can be a beautiful thing. Beyond all the stigma
associated around the event. It's the beginning of a world that starts directly for the end of another.
When a whale dies in extreme depths, they sink towards the ocean floor, where entire ecosystems arise from the decomposing bodies.
This is called a whale fall.
Mike's EPM suit had left behind three days' worth of footage.
Henry was put on the task of preparing it for viewing.
While we couldn't save him, nor the suit, we could at least figure out how Mike had died.
As we waited, the captain decided.
it was time for me to learn the truth about their mission, and why no one on the surface had ever
heard about the scientific wonder that was Talos. You saw all the dead sea creatures littering
the ocean floor around the station, Robert asked. I recall the hundreds of mangled bodies of fish,
not the most welcoming sight to the abyss. James told me something, compelled them to dive down
here. Some sort of sound? Robert nodded as he pulled up a computer.
After a moment of fumbling, he clicked on a sound file.
About five years ago, we recorded this coming from the depths of the Tonga Trench.
It was an oddly synthetic sound, like a Wales mating call had been pitched down and jumbled around,
and in the midst of it there was something that sounded like a whisper.
They recorded something similar around the Mariana trench, and called it the biotwang, Robert said.
The sound played on loop as we talked, oddly eerie for something so innocent.
We first thought it came from a whale, just a bit distorted after travelling vast distances,
or instrumental interference, and then we saw how it affected the wildlife in the region.
Blooms of jellyfish appearing out of nowhere, and fish defying all instincts to dive towards crushing pressure.
What made the sound, then, I asked.
Robert pulled up some pictures on the screen.
Creatures similar to roundworms just pitch black.
They look nothing like what I'd just witnessed in the airlock, however.
From what we can tell,
there's a thus far completely undiscovered ecosystem
somewhere down the trench,
isolated for millions of years,
unaffected by mass extinction events.
They've evolved quite differently from life we see on the surface.
It's like millions of single-celled organisms
working together to form more complex creatures.
But unlike themselves, the cells can detach and rejoin it well.
We have named it the synchitium.
And that's what killed Mike.
They could be part of it,
but we just saw in the airlock
is far larger than the microorganisms we gathered here.
Before we could continue, James interrupted it,
letting us know the footage was ready to be viewed.
If they ever decide to declassify
the existence of this station, they'll never mention the creatures, nor the sound that alerted us
to their presence. I'm sure one day they'll hail all this as a supreme technological advancement.
But truth be told, the reason why the Navy put billions and billions of dollars into this project
so that humanity could traverse the ocean floor is simply because they want to find whatever
is making that sound and find a way of using it.
"'Keb, they're waiting for us,' James said.
"'We gathered in the central area.
"'Aby sat in the back some distance away from everyone else.
"'She seemed even worse for where than before, frail,
"'as if she lost weight in the past couple of hours since meeting her.
"'Henry controlled the footage, ready to speed through to the important bits,
"'as the descent itself was quite slow.
"'Twenty thousand feet.
"'The hard old zone.'
Everything we saw would be from Mike's point of view.
The footage started at the airlock, Abby standing before him with a concerned expression on her face.
Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it.
It's not like it's my first time in the depths.
It's not like they waste a billion dollars on me, Dad, anyway.
She didn't seem consoled by his words.
This time is different.
We haven't tested the suit beyond 30,000 feet yet.
said. No, but we've tested pressure. The suit should be able to go much further before breaking.
Henry forwarded the footage. Mike stood directly at the edge of the Tonga Trench. To his left,
a platform extended even further down towards the Hardel zone, an elevator sat at the platform
centre. A short distance down the trench, he saw endlessly long tendrils gently swaying with the
current. They belonged to the body of a malformed creature, looking like it couldn't possibly
control its long appendages, yet it seemed unfazed by the depths.
Guys, are you seeing this? He said excitedly as he pointed at the bizarre thing.
It's a magna pin of squid. He almost jogged along the edge to get a better view.
The suit audibly exhausted by the effort. Too much strain on the suit, Henry interjected.
over the radio.
Ah, it'll be fine.
What else did they pay for?
Mike asked.
As he got closer to the squid,
another popped up behind it,
one with even longer appendages.
Damn, I never thought I'd see one up so close.
Start messing around, get on the elevator,
Henry demanded.
Fine, let's not enjoy our jobs then,
Mike responded.
He boarded the elevator and strapped himself in.
The journey would take.
take him another 15,000 feet into the abyss.
It was a loud, sturdy piece of machinery
able to withstand the immense pressure of the dreaded Hidal zone.
Mike himself would control the speed of the descent.
Only handing over control to Henry should something happen.
Not long after the descent started,
Mike stalled the elevator.
The suit's making weird noises, he said.
That's normal.
We're suggesting to the pressure change.
We told you you,
happen the deeper you got, Henry explained, with an annoyed tone. Yeah, I know, but
you'll be fine, 27,000 feet. Once more, Mike stopped the elevator, directing his gaze at an
edge sticking out from the cliffside. On it lay the corpse of a bowhead whale, almost a half a
planet away from its natural habitat. The whale had been partially hollowed out, riddled with deep
sea eels and tiny eyeless fish, an entire ecosystem thriving from its death.
How did that whale get here? Mike asked.
It died, like all the other creatures down here, Henry said.
Yeah, but it's a bowhead, at least I think it is.
Don't they live around the Arctic?
Henry sighed.
Just continue the descent.
35,433 feet. Horizon deep.
the elevator reached the bottom of the trench after about an hour, allowing Mike to finally unbuckle himself from his seat.
He grabbed a box of beacons to allow the next person to easier navigate the area.
After stepping off the platform and getting away from its bright lights,
it became abundantly clear that the bottom of the ocean was far from empty
and that the entire bed was covered in previously undiscovered life,
millions of fungal-like plants covering the floor.
and transparent fat shrimps swimming between, apparently feeding off them.
On the cliff wall itself, thousands of bioluminescent plants extended,
just like a stalk with a blue bulb bending in the direction of Mike's movement.
It was hauntingly beautiful, looking as alien as anything from another planet.
He continued along the cliffside, putting down a beacon every hundred feet or so.
I expected this place to be horrible.
Mike said. You know, being named after the god of the underworld and all. No one responded to this
comment. Guys, you can still hear me, right? Yes, Mike, we can hear you, Henry says. We're here to work,
not make stupid quips. Has anyone ever told you how much better life can be if you at least try to
enjoy it, Henry? Stop being such a killjoy. We're making history down here. Henry didn't respond.
How about you hand Abby the radio?
Well, I'd rather listen to the captain ramble about protocol going on.
Mike stopped, dead in his tracks, reaching the end of the cliff.
Before him was a steep fall, leading down to an endless chasm of darkness.
Henry, you sure the elevator took me all the way down the trench?
He asked as he stared into the abyss.
Yeah, you're at a third.
35,000 feet.
Well, it's just I'm standing at the edge of the cliff, and this is clearly not the bottom
of the ocean.
That's impossible.
We surveyed the entire area with sonar.
Well, I'm telling you...
The ground beneath Mike crumbled to pieces.
He slid off the edge of the cliff and dove further into the deep.
The darkness now surrounding him was absolute.
Nothing could possibly help him orient himself as he found.
To fall in the ocean was a much slower process, giving him time to think what kind of fate
awaited him as he sunk to depths never before known by mankind.
He called out for his crew members while desperately clawing at the cliff, but even with
the suit he was able to slow his descent.
As he got deeper, the suit started emitting loud beeps, alarms to alert to run.
rapid pressure changes exceeding 16,000 PSI,
but before he could even react,
he hit the ground hard.
Mike fell silent,
passed out from the impact,
number of feet.
The void.
Minutes after landing at unknown depths,
Mike awoke to the sound of his suit beeping.
The suit had held its ground
and was just starting to adjust to the new pressure.
The monometer was broken
and with his tracking device malfunctioning,
we could only try to guess how far he'd fallen.
Mike grunted as he got to his feet,
taking some time to figure out what had happened.
Henry, you there?
He finally said.
No response.
Captain, anyone.
Apart from a few malfunctioning instruments,
most of the suit seemed intact.
Yet no contact could be made
with the base. Everything past that point would be after the comms went down, and we all patiently
awaited to learn of Mike's fate. Despite having fallen far beyond what we believed to be the ocean
floor, he had just landed on another plateau, with an endless distance still progressing downwards.
The abyss was ever present, taunting us with its emptiness.
Please respond. He begged, defeat.
He activated the beacon still attached to him and checked his surroundings.
He landed directly in front of a cave leading inside the cliff wall and moving steeply upwards.
While protocol strictly dictated to wait for rescue in these situations,
we could hear gargled sound emitting from the cave.
Whatever it was, it compelled Mike to check out the cave.
The walls inside were perfectly smooth,
an impossible formation of rocks, reflecting the bright light shining from the EPM suit,
lighting up the cave as far as it stretched.
Mike stared at the shiny walls for a moment, adjusting the light.
They'd seem smooth in an angle, but when light was pointed directly at them,
it uncovered bizarre patterns, like symbols not corresponding to any known language.
While he studied the symbols, a loud sound shook through the cave,
almost sweeping Mike off his feet.
It sounded similar to the bio-twang,
but with slight differences, the rhythm was changed.
It seemed to put Mike further into a trance,
and he diligently followed the source,
ignoring any chance of rescue the further in he went.
The cave led to a much larger cavern,
extending beyond the reach of any light source he had available.
Unlike the tunnel, these walls weren't smooth,
but were covered in millions of tiny holes, each perfectly round, each identical to the last.
Upon closer inspection, the holes weren't empty, but filled with worms, just like the ones
we'd seen spew out of his body inside the airlock.
They wriggled and reached from Mike as he walked through the cabin, pulled towards the sound
in the distance, getting louder with each passing step. The deeper he got, the less than he
seemed distracted by the holes, which were growing in size alongside the worms.
Mike's only hypnotic objective was to reach the sound.
On top of the worms, spindly, long-legged creatures walked across.
They looked like shell-less spider crabs, dipping their limbs into the worms,
merging temporarily while seeming to feed them.
For with each dip into the holes, their limbs seemed to grow shorter,
while the worms expanded.
Eventually, he reached a corner of the cavern,
and with it, the source of the sound.
It was a half-consumed whale-cuff attached to the wall,
bound by hundreds of massive worms extending into its torn flesh.
Despite being half-eaten, and broken beyond any chance at life,
it somehow didn't succumb,
as if the worms themselves kept it alive,
involuntary life support, repurposed for their own needs.
The calf gaped open its half-eaten chore,
so mangled Mike could see straight into its vocal cords,
which were also covered in the worms,
tugging and moving them into position.
The wail screamed,
emitting further jumble sound that pulled Mike even closer.
While Mike was distracted,
several worms had emerged from their holes,
rapidly swarming around him.
Within seconds, they joined together, wrapping around his legs and climbing up the suit.
It temporarily brought Mike back to sanity as he tried to tear the worms off,
but they were faster than him, trapped inside a slow, metal box.
He stumbled to the ground, allowing more worms and their spindles to cover each of his limbs.
The creatures merged together, forming a sheet of flesh that soon covered the entirety of his body.
Mike fell silent
and the camera showed nothing
but a flesh-coloured mass
muffling any audio
save for Mike's panic breath
he screamed
as a loud bang
almost broke the speakers
the sound of his suit
being perforated
and the mesh refilling the hole
we'd found on the sole of his feet
the creatures
had gotten inside his suit
digging into his flesh
Mike crying in agony
before falling
silence. We all stood, speechless, in front of the monitor, now displaying nothing but a timer,
proving the camera was still running. Happy had left, with James following to console her.
That can't be it, Robert said. Let me forward it, Henry said, half whispering in shock.
We forwarded through almost three days of nothing, while the worms incubated inside Mike.
Trapped alone in the cavern, no one knowing where he was.
The camera started clearing up, the flesh sheet peeling off as the view showed that Mike had returned to the elevator.
During the three days down in the trench, the synchium had occupied, covering it with their fleshy appendages.
Mike was controlling it, or whatever remained of him, inside the suit.
He wandered towards the station, flake,
of synchial flesh falling off him with each step.
His crew called out for him over the radio,
now that they could reach him, but Mike could do nothing
but gargle as worms that consumed most of his lungs.
At the airlock he stumbled inside,
ready to unleash hell within the station.
But for a brief moment, Mike managed to halt himself.
Perhaps the thought of hurting those he loved
was enough for him to temporarily gain control,
just enough time to shut down their own.
airlock, putting himself into lockdown. Mike collapsed to the ground. He had died days ago,
but his will remained, even as he turned into nothing more than a vessel for the horrors he now
carried within him. The footage ended. We stood in silence for a moment, none of us daring to speak a
word about Mike's cause of death. I hardly believed it, despite having almost fallen victim to the
same fate myself. Henry, call headquarters tell them we're shutting this project down. Robert said,
breaking the silence. Jennifer, destroy the sample from the airlock. It still sealed, right?
Jennifer nodded before heading towards the lap. We need to make sure that whatever this is,
it stays in the abyss. I joined Henry as he attempted to call headquarters.
The radio returning nothing more than jumbled static.
Robert was checking all security feed,
sending out drones to scavenge for the synchium at the elevator.
Captain, the calms are completely down.
Can't get any signal.
On the security feed we saw that the flash of the synchium
had stretched along the ground,
covering some of the corpses of fish that littered the ocean floor.
It was impossibly large,
using the elevator and platform as a scaffold for climbing up towards the station.
A loud, metallic clang sounded through the station, followed by an alarm.
What the hell was that? I asked.
Hull Breach, Sector C, an automated voice said.
Isolators, Robert demanded.
What about? Just do it, he continued.
Henry frantically tried to navigate the security.
security system, attempting to get an idea as to the extent of the damage.
What's in sector C? I asked.
It's the lab. Fuck. I hope you never hadn't got there yet, Henry said.
While the station sealed, trapping anyone inside, another loud bang shook us. The alarm sounded again.
Hullbridge, Sector B. Oh, fuck. What? What?
now, Henry asked. Robert stood still in shock, frozen by the decision of saving the station
or fleeing. We have to evacuate, was all he said. Most of my old crew, after leaving the Navy,
struggled to get over their longing for the ocean. Such was the case for my submarine captain,
Louis Johnson. He always claimed the sea would be his final resting place, where he truly belonged.
and following his honorable discharge, he went straight into hyperbaric pipeline welding.
It's a dangerous job, and the only enemy is invisible, always stalking each dive, each new mission,
a foe that can't be sensed, but with the ability to destroy everything you are in,
but with the ability to destroy everything you are in a split second.
Pressure.
Maybe I'm cursed, unable to live on land with my own people, but at least I'll die where I belong.
he'd said.
Johnson would be lucky enough to forever be united with his one true love,
at a sight of a burst pipe that took him away,
finally making him one with the deep blue.
It's funny how the brain operates as everything around you is falling to pieces,
far beyond your own control.
Once there's nothing left you can do,
the mind turns to a place of safety,
fond memories from a time long since past.
For me, those me,
Those memories belonged to my time of service, to my old captain and crew.
It wasn't an easy time, but it was filled with purpose, with my problem solely confined to the ocean.
When Robert yelled at me to get my ass in gear, I finally snapped back to reality.
Doc, come on, we've got to get the hell out of here, he shouted.
James returned to the central dome alongside Abbey.
They'd heard the alarms, but hadn't the faintest idea what had occurred during their brinked.
brief absence. Get to Section A. There are still two transport capsules. Get number 05 ready for
departure and wait for me, Robert said. Cap, what are you going to do? James asked.
Jennifer is in lockdown. I'm getting her out. What if the creatures got inside? Abby asked.
Robert thought for a moment before handing her a walkie. If you don't hear from me, just leave.
he ordered. The station shook as another hole was torn through one of the sections.
My ears popped from the shockwave.
I'm coming with you, James said. You're not facing them alone.
No, we need you to pilot the transport capsule. If you get hurt, we're stuck down here.
It wasn't a valid excuse. They all knew fully well that the submarine was easy enough for any of the crew members to pilot.
but Robert refused to risk any more lives
and would use whatever reason he could come up with.
Captain, please.
That's an order. Get out of here, now.
He hesitantly agreed and started leaving.
I'll join you then.
I know nothing about this station or the sub,
but at least I can assist you should something happen.
I said, knowing he couldn't come up with any excuse to stop me.
He reluctantly agreed, and together we headed for the labs in Section C, worrying that Jennifer might be trapped behind the airlock, or worse.
Drowning is such a horrible way to die.
Once you realise there's no way to reach the surface, that you're trapped in a cold, dark tomb, your throat simply closes up.
No matter how hard you try to inhale, your body simply refuses, even as the agonizing pain of running out of air overpassing.
as our natural instinct to breathe, you simply refuse to give in to the overwhelming desire.
It isn't until the body starts shutting down and the corners of your vision start to darken,
that you reach the breaking point and your brain decides to pull something in,
regardless of whether air is present or not. Suddenly ice, cold water flows in through your
throat, unstoppably filling your lungs, so desperate for air.
It's a clumsy, painful way to go.
By the time the water has filled each alveoli, most are still conscious, just enough time to regret their decision to ever enter the ocean.
I thought it was funny, as we ran towards the airlock, that at least we wouldn't drown.
Surely the worms would consume us, or the pressure from a collapsing station would instantly crush us.
How did the heart get breached anyway? I asked as we got closer.
It's impossible, but I'm sure it's those fucking monsters, Robert said.
The alarm had stopped alerting us about the Hull breach and was now recommending a station-wide evacuation.
Warning, Hull integrity severely compromised, all crew report to designated docking stations.
It said, how much time do we have?
Not enough.
As we turned the corner at Section C, we saw Jennifer sitting in the room.
against the wall on the wrong side of the airlock.
It took a moment to realise the horrors of her situation
as we saw her legs fuse with the flesh of the synchitium.
They had started eating away at her lower body,
digging their way through her flesh
and rapidly replacing her organs with their own meat.
Despite all this, she remained conscious.
Jen, Robert said,
the only word he could muster from the shock of what lay in front of his eyes.
She slowly turned her head towards us, with her eyes red from hemorrhaging, as worms had consumed her insides.
Captain, is that you?
She said, weakly.
I'm here, Jen.
I guess the sample wasn't dead after all.
She joked, with a hoarse voice as she coughed up what could only be a mixture of blood and lung parankhamer.
Maybe tell the dog to double-check these things in the future.
He's here with me now, Robert explained.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Jen, but I know there's nothing left to do.
I guess this is it.
She coughed up, violently spewing out pieces of her lung and worms.
Don't worry, Captain.
It's not your thought that a monster from the abyss.
crawled its way up to destroy us.
She said, voice cracking
as she writhed in agony.
I looked over at Robert.
He looked horrified,
but couldn't take his eyes off her.
It really hurts.
Please, eject the S section,
she cried.
I just wanted to be over.
Robert nodded,
forgetting that she couldn't see him.
I went over to the control panel.
It was fairly easy to use.
especially after having witnessed Henry mess with it before.
All I needed was the passcode.
I thought it wouldn't be right to let Robert essentially execute her himself.
I'll do it, I assured them.
Rob, Jennifer said.
Yes.
Don't let these fuckers get to the surface.
Promise me that much.
I promise.
Her abdomen started bulging out.
She screamed in pain as the work.
started tearing open her flesh.
Captain, the code, I asked.
He told me the numbers,
I input them without hesitating.
Years of watching people suffer a prolonged death,
knowing that we could do nothing but pointlessly extend their lives,
could desensitized me to pulling the plug.
Immediately hatches opened up on the walls,
an alarm sounded as water started pouring in,
but since the hull had already been partially breached,
They quickly collapsed in on themselves.
Within a few seconds, Jennifer had died.
Let's get out of here, Robert said.
We ran back towards the central area.
We had to traverse the entire station to get towards Section A.
It was the only remaining escape.
But as we got to the offices,
we could hear something moving within the walls,
knocking their way through the pipes.
The pumps, Robert yelled.
They're getting in.
in through the fucking pumps. Talos's pumps were ancient machinery compared to the rest of the
station. As the dome was inserted, they needed to move tons of water outside against the immense
pressure. But after finishing the station, they'd been long forgotten, left inside the walls
while they installed more permanent solutions. Before we could react, the walls broke open,
and the synchitium poured itself through the holes, making the shape of malformed flesh.
extending rapidly alongside the walls.
We were cut off from our only escape,
with only the office available as temporary refuge
from the oncoming swarm of worms and flow of flesh,
but our safe haven would quickly become just another prison
to extend our survival.
It won't hold them for long, Robert said.
What now?
Robert went straight for his desk,
pulling out a pistol from the top drawer.
You brought a gun?
to the bottom of the ocean, I asked.
You didn't?
He shot back.
Never know when you might have to quell a mutiny.
He laughed nervously.
He could tell I wasn't amused.
We both knew a gun wouldn't slow them down significantly,
but any help was welcome.
He continued to rummish through the closets in the room,
eventually putting out two unused hazmat suits,
just like the one I'd used while inspecting Mike.
He kept you safe.
safe inside the airlock. The worms couldn't penetrate the suit, right? Robert asked with
pleading eyes. Look, they breached the EPM suit. Metal. I don't think these will make a big
difference. Might slow them down, but that's it, I said. It's our best shot. The worms are starting
to pile up on the door, forming a contracting mesh, slightly cracking the glass. It's now or
"'Never. James better have the damn sub ready to go,' Robert said as we got into the suits.
"'He fired a shot, not at the door, but at the tempered glass wall beside it,
"'shattering it into a million cubical pieces as we jumped through.
"'I stumbled to the ground, a few worms getting onto my hand as I stood back up.
"'Robert pulled them off me and shoved me forward.
"'We spurted for the entrance to Section A.
We were far faster than the worms,
but they'd formed a mesh covering most of the ceiling
and dropped down on top of us for each step we took.
Another hole in the wall burst open
directly above the airlock towards Section A,
causing another slump of meat to land in front of the door.
Shit, Robert yelled,
as he instinctively pulled his weapon
and fired at the mass on the floor.
I froze in place as the worms disintegrated
from the bullet's impact, reforming hastily crawling towards us.
I tried to turn away and run, but I didn't react in time.
To my surprise, the worms completely ignored my presence and headed straight for Robert,
pouring onto him from all directions, pulling him to the ground.
He screamed in agony as they formed around his limbs, making him unable to fight back.
I hurried towards him and tried to pull them off, but for each world,
I removed, a hundred others joined in. Within seconds, they managed to tear a hole at the armpit
region of his suit. They immediately wriggled themselves in through the hole. I desperately tried
to pull him up, but he shoved me away as he realized there wasn't any hope left for him.
Get out of here, dog. He gargled as blood started to fill his lungs. I didn't even hesitate.
and shamefully I ran for my life while the synchitium was too distracted by consuming Roberts.
No matter what I had done, he was already dead.
The hallways narrowed drastically as I once more returned to Section A.
I frantically tried to input the code to close the airlocks.
It took me two attempts with shaky fingers to get the correct code.
But within a second the door sealed,
and I was once more separated from the abomination on the other side.
side. I'm so sorry, Robert, I whispered to myself. The central dome finally gave in under the
pressure, massive streams of water quickly collapsing the ceiling. The station fell apart,
and the central power was annihilated under the flood. Plunged into darkness and silence,
I ventured further towards the docking station. Each section of Talos supposedly had their
own backup generator, but it hadn't activated yet, making it hard to navigate through the narrow
labyrinth of hallways. James, can you hear me? I called, my voice echoing endlessly. I bumped my
head as I saw a light appearing in the distance. James came running towards me, holding a flashlight.
Doc, he's still with us, thank God, he said. His joy quickly fleeting as he realized I had come
alone. What happened? Where's Jen and the captain? I just shook my head in response. No worse could
convey what had happened in the dome, and their absence proved enough about their unfortunate
outcome of our futile escape attempt. No time to worry about that now. We need to get out of here.
The capsule's just about ready to leave for the surface. We only need Henry to figure out how to get
the power back. When we arrived at the docking station, I was very much. I was very much of the carl's
relieved by the increase in ceiling height, if ever so slightly. Henry was busy at work on the
control panel, trying to figure out what had cut the power from the backup generator. Abby's
standing behind him with a flashlight. God damn it, he yelled. Something is torn away the backup
generator. Not sure how, but I'm sure I know what. He sighed. Between the lack of power
and the damaged hull, the sub can't release from the station.
We're stranded here.
None of us spoke a word, trapped in a tin can twenty thousand feet below the surface with no transport.
After what felt like an eternity, Henry finally broke the silence.
Well, do you have any ideas then, genius?
Abby asked.
Henry sighed.
As a matter of fact, I do.
He walked into the capsule and started messing around with him.
electronics, eventually pulling off one of the panels.
There are three batteries powering this up, and as I see it, I could take one out.
You should still have enough power to get you all to the surface.
Us, James asked.
I need to connect this battery to the airlock.
He continued, as he pulled one of them out from the capsule.
Then I'll override the door.
It'll blow open from the pressure, and the resulting wave of water should
forcefully eject the sub.
What about you? Abby asked.
Well, someone has to stay behind to follow through on this plan.
Let me do it then, James interjected.
No, you idiot. One wrong connection and the door fries, lock him forever.
I'm the only one with the expertise.
There has to be another way.
There isn't. Trust me.
James and I looked at each other.
Both wanting to speak up, but neither able to come up with an alternative solution.
Henry went back into the transport capsule, sealed the panel shut again.
Yeah, I wish you were all smarter. Maybe one of you could have stayed behind, he said, as sarcastically as ever, but for the first time with the slightest smirk on his face.
Thank you, I said.
Yeah, well, time for you to go.
he said as he shut the door to the capsule.
We watched as Henry walked away for the last time, ready to face his fate,
an asshole to the bitter end, but one with a kind heart.
Like his other parish crewmates, he would forever remain at the ocean basin, never again witnessing sunlight.
Time went on forever, while we waited for a wave of water that might just as lightly crush us in an instant,
but with a ton of luck we'd be ejected out from the station and from there we could reach the surface.
It would be the most violent take-off in the station's history, but also the last.
Minutes later, we heard the sound of the airlock opening before shattering to pieces
under the immense pressure of exploding water and sink it's your flesh.
Seconds later, the wave hit us and we shot out from Taurus, the hallway behind us.
us falling apart as we did. It hit us hard and roughed us up a bit, but we survived.
James took control of the vessel and didn't hesitate to start ascending towards the surface.
Abby and I stared out the window. On the other side we could see the utterly crushed remains of
Tanos, dimly illuminated by the light still powered up by the generators at Section C,
which had been completely covered by the flesh of the synchitium, the thousands of course of
corpses that previously littered the ocean floor had been cleaned up and were now a part of the ever-growing
monster from the abyss. A wave of relief washed over me, with my heart coming down for each
foot of our ascension. I no longer felt the need to constantly look out of the window.
The world outside was dark, and whatever life once remained down there had been consumed
alongside my longing for the ocean. Once we reached a depth of 5,000 feet in the middle of
the midnight zone, we managed to establish contact with the USS Orion and called for an emergency
evacuation. They were quite a distance away, but by the time we'd reach the surface, they'd pick us up,
albeit curious as to what had happened in the depths. At 3,000 feet, the first rays of daylight
greeted us with the warmth of the sun. The ocean started filling up with peaceful life,
fish thriving in the waters,
completely ignorant to the horrors that existed directly below them.
The vast darkness turned to a calming blue,
and for the first time since being hired for this mission,
I have felt safe.
Before long, we breached the service,
and were greeted by a team wearing hazmat suits as we boarded the ship.
We'd been unable to alert them to the situation.
All they knew was that a potential contagion existed in the depths.
one we could have brought back with us,
so understandably they locked us up in the sick bay,
isolated from the rest of the crew.
For 72 hours, they prodded us,
taking multiple blood samples,
even a CSF probe.
After they all returned normal,
and no sign of sickness was apparent,
they led us into more comfortable living arrangements,
as we set for sure.
After being released from the sick bay,
I hardly saw James and Abbey,
they spent their time in their rooms, only coming out for the occasional interview.
Headquarters were incredibly curious as to how a state-of-the-art installation suddenly collapsed,
as we had absolutely no proof of the events that had transpired.
They needed someone to blame, but as a part of the CDC and not the original Talos crew,
I was safe from prosecution.
All that was required of me was to sign a non-disclosure agreement.
One I'm breaking now to warn you about the horrors of the abyss.
We know more about what exists in our outer space than we do about life in our oceans,
and that's how it should remain forever.
These creatures, the synchitium, can't be killed.
As long as one single cell remains, it will be enough to restart their hives.
And I fear that, with the consumption of Taurus,
They've learned about life on the surface.
Now that I'm posting this, I'm heading for the centre of disease control.
I can feel them wriggling inside my chest as I type this, ready to burst out at any moment.
I guess the suit didn't protect me after all.
I hope James and Abby are safe, that they get a second chance at living a happy life.
I'm so, so sorry.
The danger from the deep, within a thick walled sphere of steel eight feet in diameter,
with crystal clear few squartz windows,
they crouched an alert young scientist, George Abbott.
The sphere rested on the primeval muck and slime at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean,
one mile beneath the surface.
Beam from his 200-watt searchlight,
which shot out through one of his three windows into the dark blue depths beyond,
seemed faint indeed.
yet it served to illuminate anything which crossed it or on which it fell.
For a considerable length of time since his descent to the ocean floor,
young Abbott clung to one of the thick windows of his bathersphere,
absorbed by the marine life outside.
Slender small fish with stereoscopic eyes darted in and out of the beam of light.
Swimming snails floated by, carrying their phosphorescent lanterns.
Paper-thin transparent crustaceans,
swam into view, followed by a few white shrimps, pales as ghosts.
Then a mist of tiny fish swept across his field of vision.
Nabbert cupped his face in his hands and stared out.
The incongruous thought flashed across his mind that, thus he'd often sat by the window
of his club in New York and gazed out at the passing motor traffic.
His searchlight cut a sharp swave through the blue mark.
More than once he thought he saw large moving fresh-like.
forms far away.
He speeded up the generator, he called into his phone, and immediately the shaft of light brightened.
He set about trying to focus upon one of those dim, elusive shapes which had so intrigued him.
But suddenly, the searchlight went out.
Intent on repairing the apparatus as rapidly as possible, Abbott snapped the button switch,
which ought to have illuminated the interior of his diving sphere.
but the lights did not go on.
Then he noticed that the electric fan on which he depended to keep his air supply properly mixed had stopped.
He spoke into the telephone transmitter, which hung in front of his mouth.
I, there, up on the boat, my electric power was cut off.
I'm down here with my fan stopped and my heat cut off.
Oist me up and I'll be quick about it.
Okay, sir.
As the young man waited for the winch to get underway on the boat, a mile above him,
he pulled out his electric pocket flashlight and sent its feeble ray out through its quartz glass window
into the dim royal purple depths beyond, in one last attempt to get a look at those mysterious fish shapes
which had so intrigued him.
And then he saw one of them distinctly.
Evidently they'd swung closer when the glow of his searchlight had stopped,
and so the sudden flash of his pocketlight had stopped.
taken them by surprise. For, as he stabbed it on, he caught an instant's glimpse of a grinning fish-face
pressed close against the outside of his thick window-pane, as though trying to peer in at him.
This fish-face somewhat resembled the head of a shark, except that the mouth was a bit smaller
and not quite so leeringly brutal, and the forehead was rather high and domed.
But what most attracted Abbott's attention in the brief instant before the startled
fish whisked away in a swirl of phosphorescent foam was the fact that, from beneath each of the two
pectoral fins, there protruded what appeared to be a skinny human arm, terminating in three
fingers and a thumb.
Then the fish was gone, and Abbott snapped off his little light.
The diving sphere quivered as the hoisting cable torrent.
But suddenly the sphere settled back to the bottom of the sea with a jarring thut.
"'The cables parted, sir,' spoke a frantic voice in his earphones.
For a moment, George Abbott sat stunned with horror, and his mind began to race, like a squirrel in a cage, seeking some way of escape,
or perhaps he could manage to unscrew the 400-pound trap-door at the top of the sphere,
and shoot to the surface with the bubbling out of the confined air.
But his scientifically trained mind made some rapid calculations, which should be able to be.
showed him this was absurd. At the depth of a mile, the pressure is roughly 156 atmospheres,
that is to say, 156 times the air pressure at the surface of the earth. And the moment that his
sphere was open to this pressure, he'd be blown back inwardly away from the manhole, and the air
inside his sphere would suddenly be compressed only one 156 of its former volume. Not only would
this pressure be sufficient to squash him into a mangled pulp, but also the sudden compression
of the air inside the sphere would generate enough heat to fry that mangled pump to a crisp cinder
almost instantly. As George Abbott came to a full realization of the horror of these facts,
he recoiled from the trapdoor as though it were charged with death.
Oh, for heaven's sake, do something, he shrieked in agony into the transmitter.
Courage, sir, came back the reply.
We're rigging up a grapple just as fast as we can.
Long before your oxygen gives out,
we shall slide it down to you along the telephone line,
which is the only remaining connection between us.
When it settles about your sphere,
you can see its hooks outside your window by the light of your pocket flash.
Let us know, and we'll trip the grapple and haul you up.
Thank you, replied the young man.
He was calm now, but it was an enforced and numb kind of calmness.
mechanically he throttled down his oxygen supply so as to make it last longer mechanically he took out his notebook and pencil and started to write down in the dark his experiences for he was determined to leave a full account for posterity even though he himself might perish after setting down a categorical description of the successive partings of the electric light cable and the hoist cable and his thoughts and feelings in that connection he described in detail
the shark with hands, which he'd seen through the window of his sphere.
He tried to be very explicit about this,
for he realized that his account would probably be laid by everyone
to the disordered imagination of his last dire moments.
Being a true scientist, George Abbott wanted the world to believe him,
so that another sphere would be built and sent down to the ocean depths
to find out more about these peculiar denizens of the deep.
And of course, no one would believe him,
and this thought kept drumming in his ears.
No one except Professor Osborne.
Old Osborne would believe.
George Abbott's mind flashed back to a conversation he'd had with the old professor,
just before the oil interests had sent him on this exploring trip
to discover the source of the large quantities of petroleum,
which had begun to bubble up from the bottom of a certain section of the Pacific,
very near where Abbott was now.
Osborne had said,
as Petroleum suggests a gusha to me.
What causes gushes?
Human beings boring for oil to satisfy human needs.
But Professor, Abbott had objected,
there can't be any human beings at the bottom of the sea.
Why not?
Professor Osborne had countered.
Life supposed to have originated spontaneously in the slime of the ocean depths.
Therefore, that part of the earth has a head start on us in the game of evolution.
why not this head start having been maintained right down to date,
thus producing at the bottom of the sea a ray superior to anything upon the dry land?
But, Abbott had objected further.
If so, why haven't they come up to visit or conquer us?
And why haven't we ever found any trace of them?
Quite simple to explain, the old professor had replied.
Any creature who can live at the frightful pressures of the ocean depths
could never survive a journey even halfway to the surface.
It would be like out trying to live in an almost perfect vacuum.
We should explode, and so would these denizens of the deep,
if they tried to come up here.
Even one of their dead bodies could not be brought to the surface in recognizable form.
Contact with them will ever be possible,
nor will they ever constitute a menace to anyone,
for which we may thank the Lord.
George Abbott now reviewed this conversation as he crouched in his diving sphere in the purple darkness of the marine deaths.
Yes, old Osborne would believe him.
The diary must be written for Osborne's eyes.
Abbott sent another beam from his pocketlight suddenly out into the water,
and this time he surprised several of the peculiar fish.
These, like the first, had arms and hands and high intelligent foreheads.
then suddenly abbott laughed with a harsh laugh old osborne had been wrong in one thing namely in saying that the super race of the deep would never be a menace to anyone they were being a menace to george abbott right now for it was undoubtedly they who had cut his cables probably they were possessed of much the same scientific curiosity with regard to him as he was with regard to them so they determined to secure
him as a museum specimen. The idea was a weird one. He laughed again, though mirthlessly.
What's the matter, sir? came an anxious voice in his earphones.
Hurry that grapple, was his reply. I found out what cut my cables. There are some very intelligent
looking fish down here, and I think they want me for... An ominous click then sounded in his ears,
followed by silence.
Hello, hello there, he shouted.
Can you hear me up on the boat?
But no answer came back.
The line remained dead.
A strange fish had cut George Abbott's last contact with the upper world.
And the gravel hooks could never find him now,
for there was now not even a telephone cable to guide them down to his sphere.
The realization that he was hopelessly lost,
and that he hadn't got much longer to live, came as a real relief to him, after the last few moments of frantic uncertainty.
Hoping that his fear would eventually be found, even though too late to do him any good,
he set assiduously to work jotting down all the details which he could remember of those strange denizens of the deep,
the man-handed sharks, which he was now firmly convinced were the cause of his present predicament.
He stared out through one of his windows into the brilliant blue darkness, but did not turn on his flashlight.
How near were those enemies of his, he wondered.
The presence of those menacing man-sharks just outside the four-inch-thick steel shell,
which withstood a ton of pressure for each square inch of its surface, began to obsess young abbots.
What were they doing out there in the watery blue midnight?
perhaps having secured his sphere as a scientific specimen they were already preparing to cut into it so as to see what was inside
that these fish could cut through four inches of steel was not so improbable as it sounded for had they not already succeeded in severing a rubber cable an inch and a half thick
containing two heavy copper wires and also two inches of the finest non-kinking steel rope the young scientist flashed his pocket-torch out
through the thick quartz pane, but his enemies were nowhere in sight.
Then he fell to calculating his oxygen supply.
His normal consumption was about half a quart per minute,
at which rate his two tanks would be good for 36 hours.
His chemical racks contained enough soda lime to absorb the excess carbon dioxide,
enough calcium chloride to keep down the humidity,
and enough charcoal to sweeten the body odors for much more than that period.
for a moment
I've thought of these facts encouraged him
he'd been down less than two hours
and perhaps the boat above him
could affect his rescue in the more than 34 hours
which remained
but then he realized that he'd failed to take into consideration
the near freezing temperature of the ocean depths
this temperature he knew to be in the neighbourhood
of 39 degrees Fahrenheit
even though no thermometer hung outside his window
as none could withstand the frightful pressures at the bottom of the sea.
For it's one of those remarkable facts of inductive science
that man has been able to figure out a priori
that the temperature at all deep points of the ocean,
tropic as well as Arctic,
must always be stable at approximately 39 degrees.
Abbott was glad only in a light cotton sailor suit,
and now that the source of his heat had been cut off by the severing of his power lines,
his prison was rapidly becoming unbearable.
terribly chilly. His thick steel sphere constituted such a perfect transmitter of heat,
that he might almost as well have been actually swimming in water of 39 degrees temperature,
so far as comfort was concerned. Abbott's emotions ran all the gamut from stupefaction,
through dull calmness, clear-headed thoughts, intense but aimless mental activity,
nervousness, frenzy and insane delirium, and back to stupefaction again.
During one of his periods of calmness, he figured out what an almost total impossibility there was
of the chance that his ship, one mile above him on the surface, could ever find his sphere
with grappling hooks.
And yet he prayed for that chance.
A single chance in a million sometimes does happen.
Several hours now elapsed since the parting of the young scientist's cables.
It was bitterly cold inside the sphere.
In order to keep warm, he had to exercise.
during his calm moments as systematically as his cramped quarters were permitted.
During his frantic moments he got plenty of exercise automatically,
and of course all this movement used up more than the normal amount of oxygen,
so that he was forced to open the valves on his tanks to two or three times their normal flow.
His span of further life was thereby cut to ten or twelve hours,
if indeed he could keep himself warm that long.
Why didn't the people on the boat do something?
He was just about to indulge in one of his frantic fits of despair
When he heard or rather felt the two senses being strangely commingled in this present situation
A clank or thump upon the top of his bathysphere
Instantly hope flooded him
Could it be that one chance in a million that actually happened
And that a grapple from the boat above had actually found him
With feverish expectation he pressed
the button on his little electric pocket flashlight and sent its feeble beam out through one of the quartz glass windows into the blue black depths beyond.
No hooks in front of this window. He tried the others. No hooks there either. But he did see plenty of the superhuman fish.
Eighteen of them he counted, in sight at one time. Also two huge snake-like creatures with crested backs and mained heads, veritable sea serpents.
As there was nothing the young man could do to assist in the grappling of his sphere by his friends in the boat of valve,
he directed his time to jotting down a detailed description of these two new beasts and of their behaviour.
One of the sharks appeared to be leading or driving them up to the bathysphere,
and when they got close enough, Abbott was surprised to see that they wore what appeared to be a harness.
The clanking upon the bathysphere continued, and now the young man learned its cord.
It was not the grapple hooks from his ship, but chains, chains which the man-armed sharks were wrapping around the bathesphere.
Two more of the harnessed sea serpent swam into view, and these two were hitched to a flat cart, an actual cart with wheels.
The chains were attached to the harness of the original two beasts, while they swam upward and disappeared from view,
and the sphere slowly rose from the murky bottom of the sea.
to be lowered again squarely on top of the cart.
The cart jerked forward, and a journey over the ocean floor began.
Then the little pocket torch dimmed to a dull red glow,
and the scene outside gradually faded from view.
Abbott switched off the now useless light and set to work with scientific precision
to record all of these unbelievable events.
In his interest and his excitement, he'd forgotten the ever-increasing cold,
But gradually, as he wrote, the frigidity of his surroundings was forced on his consciousness.
He turned on more oxygen and exercised frantically.
Meanwhile, the cart, carrying his bathysphere, bumped along over an uneven road.
From time to time, he tried his almost exhausted little light,
but its dim red beam was completely absorbed by the blue of the ocean depths,
and he could make out nothing except too bulking, indistinct.
shapes, writhing on ahead of him. Finally, even this degree of visibility failed, and he could
see absolutely nothing outside. He was now so chilled and numb that he could no longer write,
so with the last effort he noted down that fact and then put the book away in its rack.
He began to feel drowsy, rousing himself, he turned on more oxygen. The effect was exhilaration
and a feeling of silly joy.
He began to babble drunkenly to himself.
His head swam.
His mind was in a daze.
It seemed like hours later when he finally awoke.
Ahead of him in the distance,
there was a dim, pale blue light,
against which there could be seen in silhouette
the forms of the two serpentine steeds steeds
and their fish-light drivers.
Abbott's hands and feet were completely numb now,
but his head was clear.
As they drew nearer to the light, it gradually took form until it turned out to be the mouth of a cave, and the cart entered it.
Down a long tunnel they progressed, the light getting brighter and brighter as they advanced.
The colour of the light became a golden green.
The rough stone walls of the tunnel could now be seen, and finally there appeared ahead.
Two semicircular doors swung back against the sides of the passage.
Beyond these doors the tunnel walls were smooth and exactly cylindrical, and on the ceiling
there were many luminous tubes which lit up the place as brightly as daylight, and then the cart
came to a stop.
The young scientist could see now with surprising distinctness his captors and their serpentine
steeds, and even the details of the chains and the harness.
He tried to pick up his diary so as to do that.
jot down some points which he'd there too far missed, but his hands were too numb. But at least
he could keep on observing, so he glued his eyes to the thick quartz window pane once more.
A short distance ahead in the passage there was another pair of doors. Presently these swung open
and the cavalcade moved forward. Five or six successive pairs of doors were passed in this manner,
and then the sea serpents began to thrash about and become almost unmanageable.
It was evident that some change not to their liking had taken place in their surroundings.
At last as one of the portals swung open, young Abbott saw what appeared to be four deep-sea diving suits.
Could these suits contain human beings?
And if so, who?
It seemed incredible for no diving suit had ever been devised in which a man could descend to such a depth,
a depth of one mile and live.
These four figures, whatever they were, came stolidly forward and took charge of the cart.
One of the sharks swam up to them and appeared to talk to them with its hands.
Then the sharks unhitched the two sea-serpents and led them to the rear, and Abbott saw them no more.
The four divers picked up the chains and slowly towed the cart forward, their clumsy, ponderous movements contrasting markedly with the swift and sure swishings which had characterised
the man-sharks and their snake-like steeds.
Several more pairs of doors were passed,
and then there met them four figures in less cumbersome diving suits,
like those ordinarily used by men just below the surface of the sea.
One of the deep-sea divers then pressed his face close to the outside of one of the windows of the bathysphere,
as though to take a look inside.
But the four newcomers waved him away and hurriedly picked up the chains.
Nevertheless, in that brief instant,
Abbott had seen within the headpiece of the diver
what appeared to be a bearded human face.
Several more pairs of doors were passed.
The four deep-sea divers floundering alongside beside the cart,
quite evidently having more and more difficulty of locomotion
as each successive doorway was passed,
until finally they lay down and were left behind.
At last the procession entered a section of tunnel
which was square instead of circular,
and in which there was a wide shelf along one side about three feet above the floor.
The four divers then dropped the chains, and one by one took a look at Abbott through his window.
And he at the same time took a most interested look at them.
They had unmistakably human faces.
Oh, he must be dreaming, for even if Osborne was right about his supposed super race at the bottom of the sea,
this race could not be human, for the pressures here will be entirely too great.
No human being could possibly stand two thousand pounds per square inch.
Having satisfied their curiosity, the four divers pulled themselves up onto the shelf
and sat there in a row with their legs hanging over.
A glanced upward at the ceiling lights, but these have become strangely blurred.
There seemed to be an opaque barrier above him, and his barriers seem to be slowly descending.
The lights blurred out completely
and were replaced by a diffused illumination
over the entire ripply barrier
And it dawned on the young man
That this descending sheet of silver
Was the surface of the water
He was in a lock
And the water was being pumped out
The surface settled about the helmets of the divers
And their helmets disappeared
And their shoulders and the rest of them
At last it reached the level of Abbott's window
The divers could be seen again, and among them on the shelf there stood a half-dozen naked, bearded men,
clad only in loincloths.
They'd evidently entered the lock while the water was subsiding.
These men unbuckled the helmets of the divers and helped them out,
and then splashed down into the water and peered in through the windows of the bathers'breath.
Presently some of them left through a door at the end of the platform,
but soon reappeared with staging, which they set up around the sphere.
Then, climbing on top, they got to work on the manhole colour.
As George Abbott realised their purpose, he became frantic.
Although these men appeared to be human, just like himself,
his scientifically trained mind told him that they must be of some very special amatomical structure
in order to be able to withstand the immense pressures at the bottom of the Pacific.
It was all right for them to be out there, but it would be fatal to him.
And then the heavy circular door above him began to slowly revolve.
This was terrible.
In a moment the crushing pressures of the depths
would come seeping in.
Rising unsteadily upon his knees,
the young man tried with his fingers
to resist the rotation of the door,
but he continued to turn.
Yet no pressure could be found.
The door became completely unscrewed.
It was pried up and slid off the top of the bathosphere
to crash upon the floor outside.
Inquisitive bearded faces peered down through the hole.
Young Abbott slumped to the cold bottom of the sphere and stared back at them.
Oh, he's safe.
He'd incredibly been saved.
These were real people.
The air was real, and he must therefore be on the surface of the earth,
instead of at the bottom of the Pacific as he'd imagined.
And then, with a sigh of relief, he fainted.
When he came to his senses again, he was lying in a bed in a small room.
Bending over him was the sweetest, feminine face that he'd ever seen.
The girl seemed to be about twenty years of age, and she was clad in a clinging robe of some filmy green substance.
Her hair was honey-brown, short and curly, and her forehead high and intelligent.
Her eyes, an indescribable shade of deep violet, were matchlessly set off by her ivory skin.
The young man smiled up at her, and she smiled back.
Thus far it had not occurred to him to wonder where he was, or why.
No recollection of his recent strange adventures came to him.
To him, this was an exotic dream, from which he did not care to awake.
She spoke.
Her words were unintelligible, and unlike any language which George Abbott knew or had even heard,
and he was an accomplished linguist in addition to his other attainments.
Her words were not all that was strange about her speech,
for the very tones of her voice sounded completely unhuman,
although not displeasing her talk had a metallic ring to it like the brassy blare of temple gongs and yet
was so smooth and subdued as to be sweeter than any sound that the young scientist had ever heard before
oh beautiful dream fairy replied the enraptured young man i haven't the slightest idea what you're saying
but you keep right on i like it his own voice sounded crass and rude compared to hers
gave a start of surprise but thereafter the sound did not appear to grate on her ears then one of the
bearded men in loincloth entered and he and the girl talked together quite evidently about their
patient the man's voice had the same strange metallic quality to it as that of the girl but was deeper
so it boomed with the rich notes of a bell at the sight of the man young abbott's memory
swept back and he remembered the adventure of his diving sphere and its capture one
mile down by the strange sharkfish with human hands and arms.
But how he'd reached the surface of the earth again he could not figure out, nor did he
particularly care.
The strange man withdrew, and the girl sat down beside the bed and smiled at Abbott.
He smiled back at her.
Presently, another girl entered and called.
Milly!
The girl beside the bed started, and looking up, asked some question to which the other replied.
The newcomer brought in some strange warm food in a covered dish and then withdrew.
The first girl proceeded to feed her patient.
After the meal, which tasted unlike anything which the young man had ever eaten before,
the beautiful nurse again essayed conversation with him.
She seemed perplexed and a bit frightened that he could not understand her words.
Somehow the young man sensed that this girl had never heard any language other than her own,
and she didn't even know that other languages existed.
Strengthened by his food, he determined to set about learning her language as soon as possible.
So he pointed at her and asked,
Milly?
She nodded and spoke some word which he took for yes.
Then he pointed to himself and said,
George.
She understood, but the word was a difficult one for her to duplicate in the metallic tongue of her people.
She made several attempts until he laughingly spoke her word for yes.
Then he pointed to other objects about the room.
She gave him the names of these,
but he could easily see that she felt that
if he didn't know the names for all these common things,
there must be something that matter with him.
He wondered how he could make her understand
that there were other languages in the world than her own.
I didn't remember the sharks with their hands
and what he'd taken to be their sign language.
Perhaps Millie at least knew of the existence of this sign language.
This would afford a parallel,
for if she realized that there were two languages
in the world, might there not be three?
So Abbott made some meaningless signs with his fingers,
and Millie quite evidently was accustomed to this kind of talk,
but she was further perplexed to find that George talked gibberish with his hands as well as with his mouth.
She made some signs with her hands, and then said something orally.
Young Abbott instantly pointed to her mouth, and held up one finger,
then to her hands and held up two, then to his own mouth, and held up three,
at the same time speaking a sentence of English.
Instantly she caught on.
There were three languages in the world,
and thereafter she no longer regarded him as crazy.
For several hours she taught him.
Then another meal was brought,
after which she left him, and the lights went out.
He awakened, feeling thoroughly rested and well.
The lights were on, and Millie was beside him.
He asked for his clothes, and they were brought in.
Millie withdrew when he put them on.
After breakfast, which they ate together,
one of the bearded men came and led him out
through a number of winding corridors into a larger room,
in which there was a closed, spherical glass tank
about ten feet in diameter,
containing one of the human sharks.
Around the tank stood five of the bearded men.
One of them proceeded to address Abbott,
but of course the young American could not make out what he was saying.
This apparent lack of intelligence seemed to exasperate the man, and finally he turned toward the tank,
and engaged in the sign language conference with the fish, then turned back to Abbott again and spoke to him very sternly.
But Abbott shook his head and replied,
Millie, bring Millie!
One of the other men flashed a look of triumph at their leader and laughed.
Yes, he added, bring Millie.
The leader scoured at him, and some words were interchanged, but it ended in Millie being sent for.
She apparently explained the situation to the satisfaction of the fish, to the intense glee of the man who'd sent for her, and to the rather complete discomfiture of the leader of the five.
Abbott later learned that the leader's name was Thig, and that the name of the gleeful man was Dolve.
The reception over.
Millie led Abbott back to his room.
There ensued many days, very much.
pleasant days of language instruction from Millie.
Dauphan Thick and others of the five came frequently
to note his progress and to talk with him and ask him questions.
A sitting room was provided for him,
adjoining his sleeping quarters,
and Millie occupied quarters nearby.
Within a week he'd mastered enough of the language of these people,
for their strange history began to be intelligible to him.
In spite of the fact that the air here was at merely atmospheric pressure,
this place was nevertheless one mile beneath the surface of the Pacific
Millie and her people lived in a city hollowed out of a reef of rocks
reinforced against the terrific weight of the water
and filled with the laboratory made air
they'd never been to the surface of the sea
the fish with the human arms were their creators and their masters
Professor Osborne had been right
the fish of the deep having a head start on the rest of the world
it evolved to a perfectly unbelievable degree of intelligence.
Centuries ago, they built for themselves the exact analogue of George Abbott's bathysphere,
and in it they had made much the same sort of exploring trips to the surface that he'd made down into the deeps.
But their spheres had been constructed to keep in, rather than to keep out great pressure.
Their scientists had gathered a wealth of data as to conditions on the surface,
and had even seen and studied human beings.
But their insatiable scientific curiosity had led them to want to know more about the strange
country above them and the strange persons who inhabited it.
And so they set about breeding in their own laboratories, creatures which could be as
like as possible to those whom they had observed on the surface.
Of course, this experiment necessitated their first setting up an air-filled partial vacuum,
similar to that which surrounds the earth.
But they have persisted.
They had brought down samples of air.
from the surface of the sea, and it analyzed and duplicated it on a large scale.
Finally, through long years, they'd also directed and controlled the course of evolution
in their breederies, at first to be able to produce creatures which could live in air at low pressures,
and then to evolve the descendants of those creatures into intelligent human beings.
Some of the lower types of this evolutionary process, both in the direct line of descent of man
and among the collateral offshoots had been retained for food and other purposes.
Abbott, with intense scientific interest, studied these specimens in the zoo of the underwater
city where he was staying. Plans had been in progress for some time, among the fishfolk and their
human subjects, to send an expedition to the surface. And now the shark masters had fortunately been
able to secure alive an actual specimen of the surface folk, namely George Abbott.
The expedition was accordingly postponed until they could pump out of the young scientist all the information possible.
No habit was naturally overjoyed at the prospect.
This would not only get him out of here, but think what it would mean to science.
The plans of the sharks were entirely peaceful.
Furthermore, there were only about 200 of their laboratory-bred synthetic human beings,
and so these could constitute no menace to mankind.
Accordingly, he enthusiastically assured them that they could depend upon,
the hearty cooperation of the scientists of the outer earth.
During all his stay so far in this cave city,
Abbott had been permitted to come in contact only with Millie,
the members of the Committee of Five,
and an occasional guard or laboratory assistance.
It inspired of the absence of personal contacts
with other members of this strange race.
Abbott was constantly aware of a background of many people
and tense activity,
which kept the wheels of industry and domestic economy
turning in this undersea city.
Although the young man readily accustomed himself to the speech and food and customs of this
strange race, his personal modesty and neatness revolted at the loincloths and beards of the
men, and so by special dispensation he was permitted to wear his sailor suit and to shave.
Committee of Five, who constituted a sort of ruling body for the city, interviewed him at length,
cross-examined him most skillfully and took copious notes.
but there seemed to be a strange lack of common meeting ground between their minds and his,
so that very often they were forced to call on Millie to act as an intermediary.
The beautiful young girls seemed able to understand both George Abbott
and the leaders of our own people with equal facility.
A number of specially constructed submarines had already been built to carry the expedition to the surface.
Before it came time to use them, Abbott tried to paint as glowing a picture as possible of life on Earth,
but he found it necessary to gloss over a great many things.
How could he explain and justify war, liquor, crime, poverty, graft,
and the other evils to which constant acquaintance has rendered the human race so calloused?
He was unable to deceive the men of the deep.
With their superintelligence, they relentlessly unearth from him all the salient facts,
and as a result of their discoveries, their initial friendly feeling for the world of men,
rapidly developed into supreme contempt.
But Abbott, on the other hand, developed a deep respect for them.
Their chemistry and their electrical and mechanical devices amazed and astounded him.
They were even able to keep sun-time until the seasons by means of gyroscopes.
Age was measured much as it was on the surface.
This fact was brought to Abbott's attention by the approach of Millie's 20th birthday.
strange to relate she seemed to dread the approach of that anniversary and finally told abbott the reason
it's the custom she said when a girl or boy reaches 20 to give a very rigorous intelligence test
in fact such a test is given on every birthday but the one on the 20th is the hardest so far i've
just barely passed each test which fact marks me a very low mentality in the birthday and the one on the 20th is the hardest so far i've just barely passed each test which fact marks me a very low mentality
indeed. And if I fail this time, they'll kill me, so as to make room for others who have a better
right to live. Impossible, exclaimed the young man indignantly. Why, you have a better mind than those
of many of the leading scientists of the outer world? Well, the same, she gloomily replied. It is
way below standard for down here. On the day of the test, it is best to cheer her up. Dolph also came.
to be an especial protégé of his and gave her his encouragement.
He had been coaching her heavily for the examinations for some time previous.
But later in the day she returned in tears to report to Abbott that she had failed
and had only 24 hours to live.
Before he realized what he was doing, Abbott had seized her in his arms
and was pouring out to her a love which up to that moment he had not realized existed.
finally her sobbing ceased and she smiled through her tears george dear she said it is worth dying to know that you care for me like this
i won't let them kill you asserted the young man belligerently they owe me something for the assistance which i am to give
them on their expedition i should demand your life as the price of my cooperation besides you're the only one of all your
people who has brains enough to understand what I tell them about the outer earth.
It's they who are weak-minded, not you.
But she sadly shook her head.
It would never do for you to sponsor me, she said, for it would alienate my one friend
in power, Dolph.
He loves me.
Don't scale, for I do not love him, but for the safety of both of us, we must not let
him know of our love.
Not yet.
"'Yet?' exclaimed Abbott.
"'When you have less than one day to live?'
"'You've given me hope,' the girl replied,
"'and also an idea.'
"'Dolv promised to appeal to the other five members.
"'I've just thought of a good ground for his appeal,
"'namingly my ability to translate your clumsy description
"'into a form suited to the high intelligence of our superiors.'
"'Clomsy?' exclaimed the young man,
"'a bit nettled.
"'Pardon me, dear.
I'm sorry, she said contritely.
I didn't mean to let his slip, and now I must rush to Dolph and tell him my idea.
Don't let him make love to you, though, admonished Abbott, gloomily.
She kissed him lightly, and then fled.
A half hour later, she was back, all smiles.
The idea had gone across big.
Dolf, as the leader of the projected expedition,
had demanded that Millie be brought along as a liaison officer between them
their guide and the other four committee men had reluctantly exceeded the execution was accordingly
indefinitely postponed the young couple spent the evening making happy plans for the life together on
the outer earth for as soon as they should arrive in america don't would have no further hold
over them the next day the committee of five announced that for a change they were going to give
george abbott an intelligence test he'd represented himself as being one of the
scientists of the outer earth. Accordingly, they could gauge the calibre of his fellow countrymen
by determining his IQ. Millie was quite agitated when this program was announced, but the
ordeal had no terrors for George Abbott. He'd taken many such tests on Earth and passed them easily.
So he appeared before the Committee of Five with a rather cocky air. He had yet to see an
intelligent test too tricky for him to eat alive.
starting with something easy suggested Dolph perhaps they don't have tests on the outer earth you know one gains a certain facility by practice
merely didn't in spite of all the practicing which you gave her maliciously remarked Thig and Dolph glowed at him
what is the cube root of 378 suddenly asked one of the other members of the committee oh we uh
A little over seven, hazarded Abbott.
Come, come, boom, Thigg.
Give it to us exactly.
Well, 7.2, I guess.
Don't guess.
Give it exact to four decimal places.
In my head, asked Abbott incredulously.
Certainly, replied Thig.
Even the char could do that.
We're giving you easy questions to start with.
"'start him on square root,' suggested Dolph kindly.
"'Remember he isn't used to these tests like our people are.'
"'So they tried him with square roots,
"'in which he turned out to be equally dumb.
"'An abstract questions of physics and chemistry he did better on,
"'but the actual quantitative problems,
"'which they expected him to solve in his head,
"'stumped him completely.
"'Then they asked him about education on Earth,
"'and the qualifications for becoming a scientist.
and who were the leaders in his field and what degrees did they hold
and what one had to do to get those degrees and so on finally they dismissed him
and doth then sent for milly she was gone about an hour and returned to abbott wide-eyed
and incredulous oh george she said lowering her voice
dov tells me that your intelligence is below that of a five-year-old child perhaps that's
why you and I get along so well together. We're both morons. Well, he started to protest,
but she silenced him with a gesture and hurried on. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but
I want you to know that your examination today has resulted in a complete change in their plans
for the expedition to the surface. They've consulted with the leaders of our masters,
and they agree with them. And she was plainly agitated.
What is it, dear? asked Abbott.
with ominous foreboding. Millie continued.
Early during your test, when you demonstrated that you couldn't do the very simplest mathematical
problems in your head, they began to doubt your boastings that you're a scientist.
But you were so ingenious in your answers about conditions on the surface that finally
their faith in your honesty returned.
If you're a scientist among men, as they now believe, and the average run of your people
must be mere animals. This explains what has puzzled them before, namely how the people of Earth
tolerate poverty and unemployment and crime and disease in war. Well, and so a mere handful of our people,
by purely peaceful means, could easily make themselves the rulers of the earth. Probably this would all be
for the best, but somehow my feelings tell me that it's not. I know only too well what it is to be an
inferior among intelligent beings. So will not your people be happier, left alone to their stupidity,
just as I would be? George Abbott was crushed. This frank acceptance by Millie of the alleged
fact that he was a mere moron was most humiliating. And quickly he realized what a real menace to the
earth was this contemplated invasion from the depths. All that was worst in the world above would taint these
intellectual giants of the undersea. They would rise to supremacy, and then would become rapacious
tyrants over those whom they would regard as being no more than animals. Well, he'd witnessed
jealousies among them down below. Might not these jealousies flame into huge wars when translated to the
world above? Giants striving for mastery, using the human cattle as cannon fodder. He painted the girl a
word picture of the horrible vision which he foresaw. The invasion must be stopped at all costs.
He and Millie must pit their puny wits against these supermen. What could they do? As they were
pondering this problem, a girl entered their sitting room, the same who had brought Abbott's
breakfast on its first day in the caves. Millie introduced George to the newcomer whose name was
Ramail? Well, Ramail appeared so woe begone that the young American ventured to inquire
if she too had been having difficulty with one of her tests. But that was not the trouble,
and hers was rather of the heart. About the same age as Millie, Ramail had recently passed
her 20th birthday test and hence was eligible to marry, so she and a young man named Harkin
had requested the fishmasters to give them the requisite permission,
but their overlords for some reason had peremptorially denied the request.
Romail and Harkin were desolate.
Young Abbott's sympathies were at once aroused.
Can't something be done? he started to ask.
But Millie silenced him with a warning glance.
Of course not, she said.
Who are we to question the judgment of our all-knowing master?
or a male had really come to Millie just to pour her troubles into a friendly air
rather than because she hoped to get any helpful ideas
and so she had a good cry and finally left somewhat comforted
George and Millie then took up again the problem of saving the outer earth from the threatened invasion
Millie suggested that they go peaceably with the expedition
and then warn the authorities of America at the first opportunity after their arrival
but Abbott pointed out this would merely result in their both being shut up in some insane asylum
as no one would believe such a crazy story as theirs.
The time for lights out arrived, without their thinking of any better idea.
The next day Millie spent considerable time with Dolph,
and on her return excitedly informed Abbott that he devolved a most diabolical plot.
There were sufficient quantities of explosives in storage to blast a whole,
hole through the wall of the caves, letting in the sea and killing everyone in the city.
Dolph planned to set this off with a time fuse upon the departure of the expedition.
Thus Thig and the people who were left behind, about two-thirds of the total population of the city,
would be destroyed, and the fish would have no one to send after Dolph and his followers to dictate
them on the upper earth. Relieved with the thraldom of the fish, Dolph could make himself
emperor of the world and rule over the human cattle with milly at his side as empress an alluring
programmer well from doth's point of view anyway i didn't expect such treason even from doth exclaimed the
young american we must tell thig what good would that do remonstrated the girl if you fail to
convince thig doth would make an end of us both and if you convince thig would mean the end of doth who
influence is all that keeps me alive. We must think of something else. Right, as always,
replied Abbott. Then a growl came from the doorway. It was Dove, his bearded face black with
wrath. So, he sputtered, treachery, eh. He whistled twice and two guards appeared.
Dig them to the prison, he raged, indicating Abbott and Millie.
Our expedition will have to do without a guide.
I've learned enough of the American language to make a good start,
and I guess I can pick up another guide when we reach the surface.
Then, bending close to the frightened girl, he whispered,
Oh, and another empress.
The guards hustled them away and locked them up.
As an added precaution, a sentinel was posted in front of each cell door.
Abbott immediately got busy.
can you get word for me at once to thig?
He whispered to the man on guard.
Perhaps, replied the individual, non-committally.
Then tell him, said Abbott,
that I have proof that Dolph is planning to destroy this city behind him
and never returned from the surface.
The sentry became immediately agitated.
So you know this, he exclaimed.
How did it leak out?
But through Millie, of course.
course, and the guard on her cell is not a member of the expedition. Oh, curses, I must get word to
Dolph and have that guard changed at once. And then he darted swiftly away. The young prisoner
was plunged into gloom. Now he'd gone and done it. Why hadn't he first made appropriate
inquiries of his guard? A new guard appeared in front of the door. You were going on the expedition?
asked Abbott.
Yes, worse luck,
replied the guard.
The prisoner forgot his own gloom
in his surprise at the gloominess of the other.
Don't you want to go?
He exclaimed incredulously.
No.
Why not?
Do you know Romail?
asked the guard.
Yes, Abbott replied.
Well, that's why.
Oh, then you must be harkin,
exclaimed Abbott,
with sudden understanding.
Yes, replied the other, dolly.
You're going on the expedition, and Ramele is not.
Quite correct.
Say, um, look here, exclaimed Abbott,
and then he launched into the description of a plan
which just that moment had occurred to him.
For him, merely Ramele and Harkin,
to make their getaway ahead of the expedition,
in fact that very night,
and to set off the time views before,
leaving. Turned out that Harkin knew where the explosives were planted and where the submarines were
kept and even how to operate them. He eagerly accepted the plan and when next relieved his
Sentinel he hurried away to inform Rameo. Three hours later he was back on post. Quickly he explained
to his prisoner all about the workings of the submarines of the expedition. The lights out bell rang
and the city became dark. Except for dim lights in the passage.
ways. Harkin at once unlocked the door of Abbott's cell, and together the two young men
sneak down the corridor to the cell where Millie was confined. Silently Harkin and Abbott sprung upon
the guard and throttled him, then released Millie. There was no time for more than a few hurried
words of explanation before the three of them left the prison and made for the locks of the
subterranean canal, picking up Romail at a pre-appointed spot on the way. The canal locks were
unguarded, as well as the storerooms of the submarines. Each of the rooms held two subs and could
open onto the second lock and be separately flooded. The submarines were of steel as thick as Abbott's
bathersphere. Their shape was that of an elongated raindrop with fins. In the pointed tip of their
tails were motors which could operate at any pressure. At the front end were quartz windows.
In the top fin was an expanding device which could be filled with buoyant gas, produced.
by chemicals when the craft neared the surface. Each submarine also contained a radio set,
so tuned as to be capable of opening and closing the radio control gates of the locks.
Each would carry comfortably two or three persons. Having picked out two submarines and found
them to be in order, Harkin sneaked back into the corridor to set off the time views,
leaving his three companions in the dark in the storeroom. Abbott put a protecting arm around
many while Ramail snuggled close to her other side their hearts were all racing madly with
excitement and this was intensified when they heard Harkin talking with someone just outside their
door and Harkin returned unexpectedly something terrible has happened he breathed the explosives
have been discovered and are gone one of the expedition men has just informed me someone must have
gotten word to dig
"'Why, I did,' interrupted Millie.
"'I told my guard just before they came and changed him.'
Abbott groaned.
Harking continued hurriedly.
So Dolph plans to leave at once.
He's already rounding up his followers.
Come on, we must get out ahead of him.
An uproar could be heard drawing near in the corridor outside.
Abbott opened the door and peered out,
then shut it again and whispered.
"'The two factions are fighting already.'
"'Then come on!' exclaimed Harkin.
"'As he spoke he turned on the lights,
"'washed the door tight against its gaskets,
"'and then threw the switch,
"'which started the water seeping into the storeroom.
"'Then he led Romail hurriedly to one of the two submarines,
"'while George and Millie rushed to the other.
"' Heavy blows sounded against the storeroom door.
"'The water rapidly rose about them,
"'and the four friends crawled inside the two machines
then clamped the lids tight.
Then they waited for sufficient depth
so that they could get underway.
The water rose above their bow windows,
but suddenly, and inexplicably,
it began to subside again.
A man waded by around the bow of Abbott's machine.
Oh, they've crashed in the door,
and they're pumping out the water again, exclaimed Abbott.
We've trapped.
Not yet, grimly replied the girl at his sight.
can you work the radio door controls?
Yes.
Then quick, open the doors into the lock.
He pressed a button, and ahead of them two gates swung inward,
followed by a deluge of water.
Come on, spoke the girl, full speed ahead,
before the water gets too low.
Abbott did so, now into the lock they spared,
in the face of the surging currents.
Then Abbott pushed another button to close.
the gates behind them. But the water continued to fall and they grounded before they reached the end of the
lock. Quite evidently the rush of the current had kept the doors from closing behind them. The city
was being flooded through the broken door of the storeroom. But Abbott opened the next gate and again
they breasted the incoming torrent. This time, although the level continued to fall, their craft
did not quite ground. They must have got the gates shut behind us at last, he said.
as he opened the next set and pressed off.
And then he had an idea.
Why not omit to close any further gates behind him?
As a result, the sea pressure would eventually break down the inmost barriers
and destroy the city as effectively as Dolph's bomb would have done.
But he said nothing to Millie of this plan.
She might wish to save her people.
Gates after gate they passed.
This was too simple.
A few more locks, and they'd be absolutely.
out in open water. The submarine of Harkin and Romero swept by, evidently to let George and Millie know
their presence, and then drop behind again. But was it their two friends after all? Well,
it might have been some enemy. I couldn't be sure. This uncertainty cast a chill of apprehension
over them, which was immediately heightened by the sudden extinguishing of the overhead lights of the
tunnel.
Abbott pressed the radio button for the next set of locks, but they didn't budge.
What can be the matter?
He asked frantically.
My people must have turned off the electric current, Millie replied.
The gates won't open without electricity to feed the motors.
We're trapped again.
For a moment they lay stunned by a realization that their escape was blocked.
Kiss me goodbye, dear, breathed Millie.
This is the end.
end. As the young man reached over to take her in his arms, the submarine was suddenly lifted up
and spun backward, end over end, then tumbled and bumped along as though it were a chip on an angry
mountain torrent. Stunned, bruised, and bleeding. The American finally lost consciousness. When he came
to his senses again, his first words were, Millie, where are you? My darling, breathe a voice at
side. Are you all right? Yes, he replied. Where are we? What's happened? The entire system of
locks must have crashed in and flooded the city, she said. Instantly Abbott's mind grasped the
explanation of this occurrence. They are leaving open so many gates behind them and made it
impossible for the few remaining gates ahead to withstand the terrific pressures of the ocean depths,
and they'd crumpled. But he didn't tell Millie his part in this. She continued,
I was pretty badly shaken up myself, but I've got this boat going again, we're on our way out of the tunnel.
See, I found out how to work our searchlight.
He looked.
A broad beam of light from their bow illuminated the tunnel ahead of them.
Presently another beam appeared, shooting by them from behind.
Oh, Harkin and Ramil! exclaimed the girl.
Then they're safe too.
The tunnel walls grew rough, then disappeared.
They were out in the open sea at last, although still one mile beneath the surface.
And in front of them was an angry, seething school of the man-sharks,
clearly illuminated by the two rays of light.
Behind the sharks were a score or more of serpentine steeds.
The sharks saw the two submarines and charged down upon them,
but Millie, with great presence of mind, shut off her searchlight and swung sharply to the left.
Up! Up! Oged the young man.
man so she turned the craft upward on and on they went with no interference presently they turned the
light on again so as to see what progress they were making but they were making absolutely none they were
merely standing on their tail they'd reached a height of such relatively low pressure that it took all the
churning of their propeller just merely to counter out the great weight of their submarine
Abbot switched on their chemical gas supply, and as their top fin expanded into a balloon,
they again began to rise.
One thing, however, perplexed the young man.
The water about him seemed jet black rather than blue.
They must by now be close to the surface of the sea, where at least a twilight blue should be visible.
Even at the one mile depth in his bathesphere, the water had been brilliant, yet here, almost at the surface,
He could see absolutely nothing.
He switched on the searchlight again to make sure that their window wasn't clouded over, but it wasn't.
Then, suddenly, a rippling veil of pale silver appeared ahead,
in a blue, black sky and twinkling stars.
They'd reached the surface, and it was night.
He pointed out the stars to the girl at his side,
then swung the nose of the submarine around and showed her the moon.
where next
George Abbott picked out his position by the stars and headed east
east across the Pacific toward America
but soon he noticed that their little craft was dropping beneath the surface
he kept heading up more and more he threw the lever for more and more chemical gas
and yet still they continued to sink
milly he exclaimed we've got to get out of here
she clutched him in fear for to her the
pressure of the open sea meant death, certain death. But he pushed her firmly away and uncamped
the lid of the submarine. In another instant, he'd hauled her out and was battling his way to the
surface while their little boat sunk slowly beneath them. Millie was an experienced swimmer,
for the undersea folk enjoyed the privilege of a large indoor pool. As soon as she found that
the open sea didn't kill her, she became calm. Side by side they floated in the moonlight.
the sky began to pink in the east dawn came the first dawn that milly had ever seen suddenly she called george's attention to two bobbing heads some distance away in the path of the light that the rising sun made on the ocean
arkin and romayle he exclaimed long since they'd given them up for dead but evidently fate had treated them in much the same way as themselves and a moment later his own salt-stung eyes noticed a long grey shape to once
sides. As the day brightened, Abbott suddenly noticed a large, bulking shape nearby. It was his own boat,
the one which had lowered him into the depths in his bathersphere so many weeks and weeks ago.
Evidently, it was still sticking around, grappling for his long dead body.
Come on, dear, he said, and side by side they swam over to it. He helped her up the ship's ladder,
then the ship's cook sleepily stuck his head out at the galley door hi mike sang out george merrily to the astonished man i've um brought company for breakfast
or there'll be two more when we can lower a boat and so once again we reach the end of tonight's podcast my thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen now i'd ask one small favor of you wherever you get your podcast wrong please write
a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast.
That's it for this week, but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope
you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.
