A Fiction: Part XII

III

Once I got the hang of it, piloting the sub was fairly easy. You certainly had to predict your stops and turns, but the little sub was more reactive than I expected. Hawthorne was pleased with my progress and even let me pilot the sub to the surface once Stuart was complete with his equipment diagnostics and calibrations. He took over as we approached Angel’s Head, presumably in fear that I would crash into the side, but once we were out and standing on deck, he patted me on the back and said, “Gentlemen, meet your new sub pilot. I’m retired.”

Now, back in my room and thinking back on the day, I smile to myself and lean back in satisfaction on the bed. I wonder what all the secrecy is about. Lost treasure I suppose – afraid that the crew will mutiny to get their hands on the booty. Well, being on the front lines, I guess I’ll know before anyone else what’s going on. A submersible pilot – who would’ve guessed? Angel’s Head is starting to feel like a grand adventure. We’re nearly a month out and I don’t want the trip to end.

Having been turned away from a search for Hawthorne, I make an attempt for the latest headlines.

FORBIDDEN INFORMATION – NOT ALLOWED

What the fuck? I search for entertainment news.

FORBIDDEN INFORMATION – NOT ALLOWED

Music.

FORBIDDEN INFORMATION – NOT ALLOWED

Insects.

FORBIDDEN INFORMATION – NOT ALLOWED

Must be temporarily down, I think to myself. I’ll ask Roderick in the morning.

I turn on the vid screen and choose a classic pirate film. I recall a man swinging from one ship to the next before I drift off to sleep… For the first time in my recent memory, I do not dream.

IV

The next two weeks pass in a blur. Every morning following the Roderick inspection, I stay behind to train with Hawthorne. We are fast becoming good friends (at least in my estimation) and I have grown to trust him more than I’ve trusted another person in quite some time. I am fully functional now as a sub pilot and Hawthorne has been accompanying Stuart and me for the last few days more as a final check of aptitude than to provide any new information. Today, Hawthorne has slipped out for a dive as Stuart collects sea floor samples and I pilot the sub looking for unique specimens. As usual, I have no idea what Stuart is actually looking for or if what he is collecting is just for practice. Most days, he releases all he has collected before we head back up.

“Move us over by that rock formation, Cole. I see something.” I’ve gotten very good at precise movements underwater and we smoothly slide over to where Stuart has directed. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“You should see me parallel park,” I say in my driest tone. Stuart smirks and continues peering into his scope. I watch as the robotic claw rocks back and forth, sweeping away silt from an object half buried in the sea floor. I hear Stuart gasp.

“I’ll need to blind the main screen,” he says and I quickly try to get a look through the cloudy water before the screen goes black. It is a rounded object, about 7 feet across and a foot tall. The surface is grooved or marked with symbols or etched writing. The robotic claw grasps the object and starts to flip it up from the floor as the screen dims. “Sorry, about that. Just following orders,” Stuart says, almost genuinely apologetic. I hear a THUD below my feet as the object is loaded into the hold. A second THUD confirms it has been brought aboard and is secure.

The sea floor once again appears before me and I take a good look at the hole where the object had been. It’s deep - as though the object was moving at high speed and impacted with the sea floor as opposed to softly settling into place. Stuart continues reading his instruments and typing data.

Suddenly he jumps up. “I don’t see Hawthorne on my scope! Where is he?” Stuart pushes me aside to look out the front screen. “Turn the sub around, Cole. He may be lost or in trouble.” I grab the controls and rotate the sub around. The sub grinds across the sea floor. I am shaken and lean forward, driving the nose of the sub down. Both Stuart and I are thrown to the floor as we impact.