“Level off,” the captain said. “More countermeasures.” The bow angle eased. Another explosion rocked them from far off, but the sonar man looked stricken.
He turned to the captain, shaking his head. “No good.” An instant later the Memphis was hit. Anyone not seated and belted in was thrown to the floor. The main lights went down. The sound of alarms wailed throughout the ship.
The captain got to his feet, managed a quick look at the damage board. “Emergency surface,” he ordered.
The Memphis blew all tanks and began to rise.
MILES AWAY, Paul and Gamay Trout couldn’t see any screen or hear any radio calls describing the action. But the ocean carried sound much more effectively than the air, and echoes from the booming explosions reached them one after another like the sound of distant thunder.
Neither of them spoke, except as necessary for navigation.
Finally, Paul slowed the craft. They’d dropped from the Navy helicopter, descended into the far end of the canyon, and wound their way back toward the platforms.
“We’re at two hundred feet and holding,” Paul said. “If the inertial system is right, the platforms are less than a mile away.” Gamay was already activating Rapunzel ’s program. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“Detaching umbilical,” she said.
She felt herself sweating once again despite the cold. And then she felt Paul’s hand on her shoulder, massaging it softly.
Another series of explosions rumbled through the depths, these far bigger, closer, and more menacing than any that had come before.
“Do you think that was one of ours?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Don’t think about it. Just do what you have to do.” She tried to block it out, even as another, smaller boom reached them, but there was nothing to see through her visor except darkness.
Seconds passed.
“How far?” she asked.
“You should be almost there,” Paul said.
Something was wrong. “She’s not moving,” Gamay said.
“What?”
Gamay studied the data feed from the little robot. “Her motor is operating, but she’s not moving. She’s stuck.” “How is that possible?” Paul asked.
Gamay, with a flip of her right hand, switched on Rapunzel’s exterior light. The answer to Pa
ul’s question came through instantly.
“She’s stuck in a net.”
Gamay put Rapunzel in reverse and pulled her back a few yards. The net was no fluke; it was draped from above.
“Antitorpedo nets,” Paul said. “We must be right beside the platform.” Gamay switched on Rapunzel’s cutting tool. “I’m cutting through it.”
THE MEMPHIS had broken the surface but was taking on water fast. The order to abandon ship was given, and men were scrambling from the hatches and into boats or just into the sea itself.
But the survivors were well inside the Event Horizon line. If their enemy wanted to, he could fry them all with a single burst from his weapon.
ON THE ONYX, Kurt noticed the lighting returning to normal. He was thankful that the bow thrusters hadn’t come back to life. He hoped that meant the high voltage was still out and the Fulcrum array was still off-line.
He moved back to where Katarina sat in the hall. “Ready for one more run?” he asked.
“I don’t think I can,” she said.
He studied her hand. The blood flow had slowed, the wound was finally clotting.