Chapter 4: Launching the Ulysses
The Next Morning
It was early in the morning. Milo and Emily were on the decks of a large freight ship. Feeling nauseous, Milo leaned over the ship and vomited up again. Emily had to throw her hands around his waist to prevent him from falling overboard and she caught his glasses.
The siblings were now wearing different outfits that were suitable for them to wear for the voyage. Milo wore a light brown sweater with two brown buttons, a long olive-green trench coat, tan trousers, gray socks, and brown shoes.
Emily wore a dark blue dress, a light brown belt with a gold buckle, a large brown coat, gray stockings, and brown boots. Once her brother was pulled back on the ship, she released her grip and patted his shoulder.
"Carrots. Why is there always carrots?" Milo asked, himself. "I didn't even eat carrots." The young man gagged and covered his mouth, before he could puke.
"Attention,"an elderly woman's on the loudspeaker said. "All hands to the launch bay."
Unable to hear the announcement, Milo tapped his sister's shoulder and she turned to him.
"Emily, it's time for us to report," he said, signing.
Emily nodded. The siblings grabbed their traveling bags and made their way into the ship. Milo and Emily were in an area filled with workers loading trucks and lifting up other trucks by cranes. The dirty blonde glanced around with interest. She couldn't hear all the sounds and voices that were around her.
"To whoever took the "L" from the Motor Pool sign," the voice on the loudspeaker said. "Ha-ha, we are all very amused."
Soon, they came across a tall figure wearing a long olive-green trench coat who hopped out from a truck.
"Excuse me? We need to, uh, report in?" Milo asked, shyly.
"Yes, Mr. and Ms. Thatch?" the figure's female voice said.
The figure turned around smirking, shocking Milo and Emily. It was none other than Helga! But this time, she was in a different outfit. Her blonde hair was tied in a braid with two brown ponytail holders. She wore a long-sleeved black turtle neck shirt, a large brown utility belt, brown gloves, a dull olive-military cargo pants, and brown knee-high, high-heeled boots.
"Ah! Uh, it's you!" Milo said, jumping back in surprise.
When did you get here? Emily signed.
Helga looked at her confused. "Pardon me, Mr. Thatch," Helga said. "Could you tell me what your sister said?"
The young man glanced at the dirty blonde as she signed again. Milo nodded and turned back to the blonde.
"She's asking, when did you get here?" he said, translating.
Before Helga could answer Emily's question, an elderly man in his seventies appeared from behind. He stood on his Chuck Wagon with his arms crossed. The Caucasian man had white hair, thick eyebrows, a mustache, and beard. On his head was a brown bowler hat with a red feather, a gray blouse, blue pants held by suspenders, and brown boots.
The messages on the back of his wagon read: Today's Special: Shut Up An' Eat! And No SECONDS!
"Blondie," the man spoke in a Southern accent. "I got a bone to pick with you."
The German woman rolled her eyes in annoyance at him.
"Hold that thought," Helga said, excusing herself from the Thatch siblings. "What is it this time, Cookie?" she asked, impatiently and crossed her arms.
"You done stuffed my wagon full to bustin' with non-essentials," Cookie said, irritated. He pulled out a wooden crate, full of jars and cans containing herbs and spices. "Look at all this," he leaned in and threw out the jars. "Cinnamon, oregano, cilantro. What in the cockadoodle is cilantro?"
He threw out the crate and the essentials shattered on impact with the floor. Then, Cookie pulled out a head of fresh lettuce and showed it to Helga. "And what is this?" he asked.
"That would be lettuce," the blonde answered.
"Lettuce?" Cookie exclaimed. "Ugh… Lettuce?"
"It's a vegetable, Cookie," Helga said, sternly and took the lettuce, clutching it firmly in her hand. "The men need the four basic food groups."
Cookie crossed his arms in annoyance.
"I got yer four basic food groups!" he shouted, holding up three fingers. "Beans, bacon, whiskey, and lard!"
Then, an alarm rang throughout the area.
"All right cowboy. Pack it up and move it out!" Helga ordered as she shoved the lettuce back to Cookie, making him fall back. She began to make her way to the lower deck.
"Attention. All hands to the launch bay," the announcer said. "Final loading in progress."
Milo and Emily followed a large group of soldiers and entered an elevator. The elevator began to transport them down to the lower deck.
In front of them, was a massive armored submarine held by hooks and cords, before it was set on its maiden voyage. The submarine was 382 feet long and the front had a large dome of thick glass windows. It looked just exactly like the model back at Mr. Whitmore's mansion. This submarine was christened the Ulysses, and trucks were driving into the inside to prepare for the dive.
Milo and Emily were walking towards the loading section, until a something bumped into them. The Thatch siblings turned around and discovered a cart full of demolition equipment.
The occupant pushing it was a man. The man was tall and appeared to be in his late thirties to early forties. He had light skin, brown eyes, black flat-topped hair, and a thick mustache with a match in his mouth. He wore a thick black sweater with brown leather pads at the elbows, gray metal shields on his chest and groin, brown gloves, light olive-green pants, white wrap socks, and brown shoes.
"Hey, Junior," Vinny said in his Italian accent and gestured back with his thumb. "If you're lookin' for the pony rides, they're back there."
Emily glanced at the man and remembered looking through the files of each crew member. She remembered the mugshot of him and realized that it was Vincenzo Santorini or 'Vinny' for short.
As Vinny walked ahead, an object fell off from his cart. Milo knelt down to pick up the object.
"Excuse me, excuse me!" Milo called him. "You dropped your…." When Milo held it up at his face level, he stuttered nervously at what he was holding, "dynamite."
Emily's eyes widened in fear, her lips went into a deep frown, and her stomach dropped. Since when do you have to travel a lot with these explosives?
Vinny glanced back at the siblings with a look as the young man gave him the stick of dynamite.
"What else have you, uh, got in there?" Milo asked.
"Oh, eh, gunpowder," Vinny answered, taking back the dynamite and gestured to his supplies, "Nitroglycerin, notepads, fuses, wicks, glue, and… Paper clips. Big ones. You know, just uh, office supplies."
Office supplies? Emily thought, raising her eyebrow. When was the last time he had real office supplies?
"Milo! Emily!"
Milo turned around to see Mr. Whitmore and another man walking towards the siblings. Mr. Whitmore wore a captain's blue navy coat and hat.
The other man was six foot, four inches tall, and middle-aged, but strong and muscular. He had gray balding hair with each white streak on both side, fair skin, brown eyes and thick black eyebrows. He wore a green military suit consisting of a dress shirt, a necktie, a jacket, pants, and boots. This was none other than Lyle Tiberius Rourke.
"Where you been?" Preston asked, as he gestured to the man. "I want you two to meet Commander Rourke. He led the Iceland team that brought the Journal back."
"Milo and Emily Thatch," Rourke said smiling. He held out his hand. Milo and Emily placed down their bags and shook the commander's hand. Milo pulled out the Journal. "Pleasured to meet the grandkids of old Thaddeus. I see you two got that journal. Nice pictures, but I prefer, a good western myself."
"Pretty impressive, eh?" Whitmore asked, elbowing Milo.
Yes, Emily replied, nodding her clenched fist and smiling.
"Boy, when you settle a bet, you… You settle a bet," Milo said, chuckling.
The siblings picked up their traveling bags and followed Whitmore and Rourke to the loading dock of the submarine.
"Well, your granddad always believed you couldn't put a price on the pursuit of knowledge," Mr. Whitmore said.
"Well, uh, believe me, this'll be small change compared to the value of what we're gonna learn on this trip," Milo said.
"Yes, this should be enriching for all of us," Rourke agreed.
It will be an adventure worth going on, Emily signed.
"Attention, all personnel. Launch will commence in 15 minutes," the voice on the loudspeaker announced.
Milo turned to his sister to sign back the message. Emily nodded, and clutched onto her travel bag.
"Mr. Whitmore," Rourke said, he saluted to the old man and began to walk up the platform to the submarine.
"Rourke," Mr. Whitmore replied, back.
"It's time," the Commander said.
The Thatch siblings followed Rourke up the platform to enter the submarine. They turned around to wave good-bye to the man who truly believed in them and made their dream come true.
"Bye, Mr. Whitmore!" Milo said, waving with the journal in his hand.
Good bye, Emily placed her right hand to her chin and lifted it to wave to man.
"Make us proud, kids," Mr. Whitmore called back, as the submarine doors closed.
Once all the members of the crew and supplies were loaded on the submarine and the doors were shut tight, it was time for the Ulysses to dive in the ocean.
"Rig ship for dive!" a diving officer said.
"Aye, sir! Rig ship for dive," the Chief of the Watch said.
Rourke and Helga were at the front of the submarine, giving messages to the crew.
"Lieutenant, take her down," Rourke commanded to Helga, who happened to be his second-in-command.
"Diving officer, submerge the ship," Helga announced. "Make the depth one-five-zero feet."
"Aye!"
"Make the depth one-five-zero feet."
"Dive, dive! Five degrees down bubble."
"Take us down," a diving officer said.
"Take us down!" a crew member repeated.
The crane that held up the Ulysses released the submarine, and it began to submerge into the sea. Mr. Whitmore stood at the front to watch the descent. He gave a thumbs-up with his right hand towards the launch, but he also crossed his fingers from his left hand behind his back.
Within the seconds, the Ulysses has submerged under the sea and began to descent deeper in the depths. Milo and Emily watched from the windows with amazement as they were growing further from the surface and continued to delve into the deep ocean.
From that moment on, the journey to Atlantis has finally begun.