And the Sea Became Blood
By: CindyR
".and the sea became blood." (Revelation 8:8, New World Translation)
Running a submarine is an expensive venture. Fuel, for example, can eat a hole in a budget pretty quickly whey you're faced with supplying a hungry reactor with enough Uranium-235 and Strontium pellets to power a small city. Few private fortunes on this planet could absorb the cost, so it was necessary to the world's only private research submarine to turn to the government for funding to offset many of the operational expenses incurred in her day-to-day operations. In return for this most uncharacteristic generosity on the part of Uncle Sam, the vessel and crew of the SSRN Seaview were often obligated to take on tasks of military and nationalistic importance to said government' For all they knew, this was simply one more.
Admiral Harriman Nelson stood in Seaview's bow, absently staring out into the sea, the transparent steel affording a perfect view of the world beyond the great metal womb. A school of fish wandered lazily by, turning in unison to gape at the temerity of the land-dwellers who dared invade their watery domain. One, braver than the rest, swam nearer, actually pressing its face against the window before darting away. Within seconds, its companions too were gone, leaving not so much as a bubble in their wake.
A hand touched Nelson's shoulder, bringing him out of his reverie. Without turning, he met the eyes of Seaview's captain in the reflecting surface of the bow "You know. Lee, I can't think of anything I hate more than having to wait."
White teeth flashed in a grin. "I know what you mean. Admiral. It seems that every time we have to deal with the government, it's more a matter of hurry-up-and wait than it is a straight business."
Nelson grunted. "Bureaucrats." A flutter of white caught his attention and he turned, extending his hand. "That for me?"
"Yes, Sir," Crane said, handing over the paper. "Communiqué from Washington, decoded and ready." He waited patiently until Nelson had torn open the envelope and scanned the contents of the message. "Our orders. Sir?"
"Hmmmm." Nelson handed the paper over. "Better get the guest cabins ready, Lee. We're expecting guests."
"Dr. Blackwood," Crane muttered, reading the missive. His brow crinkled. "I don't believe I'm familiar with the name."
"Harrison Blackwood." Nelson paced once, then threw himself into one of the swivel chairs near the window. "Brilliant young astrophysicist working out of the New Pacific Institute of Technology." Crane made an inquiring noise. "I ran across some of his work," the eclectic Nelson explained, "in a science journal I subscribe to. He made quite a stir in the scientific community with his paper on unified nuclear bonding as applied to Brinkley's gravitational theorem He made a case for--" He trailed off at Crane's expression.
"You know physics was never my field, Admiral," the Captain grimaced, returning the paper, "Chemistry and mathematics, but physics?" He shook his head.
"At any rate," Nelson went on, "we'll be taking: this Blackwood and two assistants aboard at Pearl tomorrow, new destination to be hand delivered." He crumpled the message in one fist. "Doesn't tell us much. What's our ETA for Pearl?"
Crane consulted his watch. "At flank speed, we can reach Pearl by oh-one- hundred hours tomorrow."
"Very well, see to it, Lee. Sooner we get there, the sooner we find out hat out next assignment will be. And I'll tell you something -- from what little I've heard about this Blackwood, I've a feeling it's going to be a real beaut."
'''
Between pollution from the city and the constant dredging done by the Navy, Pearl Harbor had lost the crystalline sparkle for which it had been known a century past. Still, it was a welcome sight -- a haven for sailors who'd spent too much of their lives on foreign mains.
Seaview lay to about a mile offshore, glistening like a silver mermaid in the sun. She waited there patiently, lifting and falling with the tide until nearly noon, when a motorized launch approached from off her starboard bow and tied up by the forward access ladder. The launch's crew -- four grim Navy men with handguns in full view -- worked in total silence, unloading: passengers and luggage. They slipped the moorings, preparing, to cast off, though not before one passenger -- a tall man with curly hair -- clasped them all in a friendly handshake and warm farewell, Unprepared for the assault, the lieutenant in charge managed only a wan smile before making good his escape back to the sea.
Below deck, Admiral Harriman Nelson, Captain Lee Crane, and Seaview's Executive Officer, Chip Morton, waited for the newcomers to board. "Accommodations prepared for out guests. Lee?" Nelson asked, glancing at his watch for the twelfth time in as many minutes.
"Yes, Sir," Crane accepted a clipboard from crewman Lewis and scribbled his name to the bottom of the report. "We've got two cabins ready for them, and the auxiliary lab has been set up for Doctor--"
"McCullough," Morton supplied.
" McCullough's use."
"Good," Nelson tapped out a cigarette from a nearly empty pack and placed it between his lips, "We'll--"
"Permission to come aboard. Sir?" called a cheery voice from the top of the stairwell, followed by, "I heard that in a movie once," as an aside.
"Permission granted," Crane called back, smiling at the last comment.
"Right!" The cheerful voice was followed by a pair of Adidas-shod feet as a man descended the ladder. Bright blue eyes scanned the control room once before concentrating on the three officers who were patiently staring back. The blue eyes twinkled. "Harrison Blackwood," the man said, extending a hand, "And you must be Admiral Nelson. I've acquired your work for many years, Admiral."
"Why, thank you." Nelson accepted the handshake, mildly surprised at the strength in the grip.
Blackwood pumped Nelson's hand once and released it, pointedly staring at the cigarette in the older man's mouth. "Admiral, do you have any idea what those things do to your lungs?"
"My what?" Nelson gaped, nearly dropping the cigarette.
Harrison nodded sincerely, "You can be-- Oh, Doctor Suzanne McCullough," he introduced a young woman just graining the floor next to him, then paused while a second man appeared. "And this is--"
"Lt. Colonel Paul Ironhorse, United States Army Special Forces." A slender, dark-haired man, a few inches shorter then Blackwood, snapped to full attention and gave a salute upon spying the stars attached to Nelson's collar. "Sir!"
Nelson returned the salute, unconsciously returning the unlighted cigarette to his pocket. "That's not necessary here, Colonel," he pointed out, "We're a civilian research vessel." He exchanged an amused look with Crane, "We tend to dispense with most of the formalities aboard this boat."
"Very good, Sir," Ironhorse smiled, relaxing fractionally.
"Admiral Nelson," Suzanne dropped her overnight case to the deck, "I've read your paper on the effects of radioactive toxins on the structure of cephalopods, I thought your conclusions on cell-matrix mutation fascinating."
"Thank you, Doctor," Nelson said, smiling at the pretty woman. "My command crew," he went on, "Seaview's captain, Lee Crane, her exec, Commander Chip Morton . "
"Gentlemen, and Ma'am." Crane stepped forward, extending a hand to the surprised woman, who took it automatically. "We've got a guest cabin prepared for you. For all of you," he added, releasing Suzanne's hand. "Your gear will be transferred there immediately."
"Thank you, Captain." Used to her share of attention, Suzanne recovered her aplomb instantly. "I would like to freshen up a bit. We were a little rushed to get here."
"Of course. Encino!"
"Yes, captain." The stocky crewman stood, ceding his post at the helm to the relief man. "Sir?"
"Show our guests to their cabins," Crane directed, smiling at Suzanne again. "The gentleman are in cabin 151-A and Doctor McCullough will be using 151-B."
"Yes, Sir. This way, please." Encino gestured to the spiral staircase forward.
"Thank you, Captain, Admiral." Blackwood fished a sealed envelope from his jeans pocket and handed it over. "By the way, Admiral, this is for you. It's the coordinates of our destination."
Nelson read the contents quickly, then handed the sheet to Crane. "Make all preparations to get underway. Captain. These coordinates at flank speed."
"Aye, Sir," Crane called, darting away.
"Uh. ..Doctor." Nelson stopped the trio of newcomers with a gesture. "There was no explanation attached to those orders -- only map coordinates."
Blackwood nodded grimly. "Give me a half-hour to freshen up, Admiral, then I've got a story to tell you -- one you may very well refuse to believe."
"Don't worry about that. Doctor Blackwood," Nelson growled. "After some of the things we've seen aboard this ship, there's nothing you can tell me that's going to be too strange to believe."
'''
By: CindyR
".and the sea became blood." (Revelation 8:8, New World Translation)
Running a submarine is an expensive venture. Fuel, for example, can eat a hole in a budget pretty quickly whey you're faced with supplying a hungry reactor with enough Uranium-235 and Strontium pellets to power a small city. Few private fortunes on this planet could absorb the cost, so it was necessary to the world's only private research submarine to turn to the government for funding to offset many of the operational expenses incurred in her day-to-day operations. In return for this most uncharacteristic generosity on the part of Uncle Sam, the vessel and crew of the SSRN Seaview were often obligated to take on tasks of military and nationalistic importance to said government' For all they knew, this was simply one more.
Admiral Harriman Nelson stood in Seaview's bow, absently staring out into the sea, the transparent steel affording a perfect view of the world beyond the great metal womb. A school of fish wandered lazily by, turning in unison to gape at the temerity of the land-dwellers who dared invade their watery domain. One, braver than the rest, swam nearer, actually pressing its face against the window before darting away. Within seconds, its companions too were gone, leaving not so much as a bubble in their wake.
A hand touched Nelson's shoulder, bringing him out of his reverie. Without turning, he met the eyes of Seaview's captain in the reflecting surface of the bow "You know. Lee, I can't think of anything I hate more than having to wait."
White teeth flashed in a grin. "I know what you mean. Admiral. It seems that every time we have to deal with the government, it's more a matter of hurry-up-and wait than it is a straight business."
Nelson grunted. "Bureaucrats." A flutter of white caught his attention and he turned, extending his hand. "That for me?"
"Yes, Sir," Crane said, handing over the paper. "Communiqué from Washington, decoded and ready." He waited patiently until Nelson had torn open the envelope and scanned the contents of the message. "Our orders. Sir?"
"Hmmmm." Nelson handed the paper over. "Better get the guest cabins ready, Lee. We're expecting guests."
"Dr. Blackwood," Crane muttered, reading the missive. His brow crinkled. "I don't believe I'm familiar with the name."
"Harrison Blackwood." Nelson paced once, then threw himself into one of the swivel chairs near the window. "Brilliant young astrophysicist working out of the New Pacific Institute of Technology." Crane made an inquiring noise. "I ran across some of his work," the eclectic Nelson explained, "in a science journal I subscribe to. He made quite a stir in the scientific community with his paper on unified nuclear bonding as applied to Brinkley's gravitational theorem He made a case for--" He trailed off at Crane's expression.
"You know physics was never my field, Admiral," the Captain grimaced, returning the paper, "Chemistry and mathematics, but physics?" He shook his head.
"At any rate," Nelson went on, "we'll be taking: this Blackwood and two assistants aboard at Pearl tomorrow, new destination to be hand delivered." He crumpled the message in one fist. "Doesn't tell us much. What's our ETA for Pearl?"
Crane consulted his watch. "At flank speed, we can reach Pearl by oh-one- hundred hours tomorrow."
"Very well, see to it, Lee. Sooner we get there, the sooner we find out hat out next assignment will be. And I'll tell you something -- from what little I've heard about this Blackwood, I've a feeling it's going to be a real beaut."
'''
Between pollution from the city and the constant dredging done by the Navy, Pearl Harbor had lost the crystalline sparkle for which it had been known a century past. Still, it was a welcome sight -- a haven for sailors who'd spent too much of their lives on foreign mains.
Seaview lay to about a mile offshore, glistening like a silver mermaid in the sun. She waited there patiently, lifting and falling with the tide until nearly noon, when a motorized launch approached from off her starboard bow and tied up by the forward access ladder. The launch's crew -- four grim Navy men with handguns in full view -- worked in total silence, unloading: passengers and luggage. They slipped the moorings, preparing, to cast off, though not before one passenger -- a tall man with curly hair -- clasped them all in a friendly handshake and warm farewell, Unprepared for the assault, the lieutenant in charge managed only a wan smile before making good his escape back to the sea.
Below deck, Admiral Harriman Nelson, Captain Lee Crane, and Seaview's Executive Officer, Chip Morton, waited for the newcomers to board. "Accommodations prepared for out guests. Lee?" Nelson asked, glancing at his watch for the twelfth time in as many minutes.
"Yes, Sir," Crane accepted a clipboard from crewman Lewis and scribbled his name to the bottom of the report. "We've got two cabins ready for them, and the auxiliary lab has been set up for Doctor--"
"McCullough," Morton supplied.
" McCullough's use."
"Good," Nelson tapped out a cigarette from a nearly empty pack and placed it between his lips, "We'll--"
"Permission to come aboard. Sir?" called a cheery voice from the top of the stairwell, followed by, "I heard that in a movie once," as an aside.
"Permission granted," Crane called back, smiling at the last comment.
"Right!" The cheerful voice was followed by a pair of Adidas-shod feet as a man descended the ladder. Bright blue eyes scanned the control room once before concentrating on the three officers who were patiently staring back. The blue eyes twinkled. "Harrison Blackwood," the man said, extending a hand, "And you must be Admiral Nelson. I've acquired your work for many years, Admiral."
"Why, thank you." Nelson accepted the handshake, mildly surprised at the strength in the grip.
Blackwood pumped Nelson's hand once and released it, pointedly staring at the cigarette in the older man's mouth. "Admiral, do you have any idea what those things do to your lungs?"
"My what?" Nelson gaped, nearly dropping the cigarette.
Harrison nodded sincerely, "You can be-- Oh, Doctor Suzanne McCullough," he introduced a young woman just graining the floor next to him, then paused while a second man appeared. "And this is--"
"Lt. Colonel Paul Ironhorse, United States Army Special Forces." A slender, dark-haired man, a few inches shorter then Blackwood, snapped to full attention and gave a salute upon spying the stars attached to Nelson's collar. "Sir!"
Nelson returned the salute, unconsciously returning the unlighted cigarette to his pocket. "That's not necessary here, Colonel," he pointed out, "We're a civilian research vessel." He exchanged an amused look with Crane, "We tend to dispense with most of the formalities aboard this boat."
"Very good, Sir," Ironhorse smiled, relaxing fractionally.
"Admiral Nelson," Suzanne dropped her overnight case to the deck, "I've read your paper on the effects of radioactive toxins on the structure of cephalopods, I thought your conclusions on cell-matrix mutation fascinating."
"Thank you, Doctor," Nelson said, smiling at the pretty woman. "My command crew," he went on, "Seaview's captain, Lee Crane, her exec, Commander Chip Morton . "
"Gentlemen, and Ma'am." Crane stepped forward, extending a hand to the surprised woman, who took it automatically. "We've got a guest cabin prepared for you. For all of you," he added, releasing Suzanne's hand. "Your gear will be transferred there immediately."
"Thank you, Captain." Used to her share of attention, Suzanne recovered her aplomb instantly. "I would like to freshen up a bit. We were a little rushed to get here."
"Of course. Encino!"
"Yes, captain." The stocky crewman stood, ceding his post at the helm to the relief man. "Sir?"
"Show our guests to their cabins," Crane directed, smiling at Suzanne again. "The gentleman are in cabin 151-A and Doctor McCullough will be using 151-B."
"Yes, Sir. This way, please." Encino gestured to the spiral staircase forward.
"Thank you, Captain, Admiral." Blackwood fished a sealed envelope from his jeans pocket and handed it over. "By the way, Admiral, this is for you. It's the coordinates of our destination."
Nelson read the contents quickly, then handed the sheet to Crane. "Make all preparations to get underway. Captain. These coordinates at flank speed."
"Aye, Sir," Crane called, darting away.
"Uh. ..Doctor." Nelson stopped the trio of newcomers with a gesture. "There was no explanation attached to those orders -- only map coordinates."
Blackwood nodded grimly. "Give me a half-hour to freshen up, Admiral, then I've got a story to tell you -- one you may very well refuse to believe."
"Don't worry about that. Doctor Blackwood," Nelson growled. "After some of the things we've seen aboard this ship, there's nothing you can tell me that's going to be too strange to believe."
'''