2/ UNDERSEA CAPTIVE
The selection of my equipment was a simple matter. There was no need for offensive nor defensive weapons in a denuded wasteland.
On the other hand I took every precaution against radioactive emissions and the reactor of my protective suit was fully charged. I was sure to require plenty of energy.
The cell oscillation activator, my most precious possession, was tuned again by the automatic positronic precision instrument. Due to my extended bio-sleep the individual frequency of my cells had undergone a little change.
The egg-shaped miniature set hung down on my bare chest under the heavy and uncomfortable anti-radiation suit I had to wear and which hopefully would enable me to withstand the terrific pressure of the water above me.
My sole defensive weapon consisted of a harmless psycho-beamer whose hypnosuggestive effect would suffice to make any likely opponent forget his idea of attacking me. This was all I needed.
I put highly concentrated food and radiation-absorbing medical supplies in the backpack of my high-pressure field outfit. If necessary I would have to transport surviving victims of the senseless war to my vital deep-sea sphere since it would be impossible for me to give adequate medical treatment to severe invalids on the surface.
I surmised that I could suffer no harm from the pitiful and handicapped flotsam of war inside my refuge. What could they do to me?
5 days after I was awakened by the robot, I had recovered well enough to risk my ascent.
I examined the airworthiness of my outfit by operating the antigrav aggregate. It functioned perfectly and I floated with ease from the floor to the ceiling of the sphere.
Rico watched my experiments with cold shiny mechano-eyes.
The observation panel still depicted the visual and graphic record of information which had been the latest news 69 years ago. Before I left the sphere I glanced once again at the observation panel and read with ambiguous feelings the item of an American newspaper that the first manned atomic rocket had landed on the Moon.
The commander of the atomic rocketship was Maj. Perry Rhodan, test pilot of the U.S. Space Force. Before this man had started on his flight I had personally checked his qualifications. He had made an excellent impression on me. How could I have foreseen at that time that this same Space Force Major would be indirectly responsible for the outbreak of the dreaded atomic war? I had also heard something about a rumour that he had made a discovery on the Moon which was of utmost importance to all power blocs on Earth and that he had refused to surrender his secret. After lie returned in his lunar rocket to the uninhabited Gobi Desert, the ruckus got started.
The latest reports had mentioned an energy-shield which Rhodan had erected over his lunar rocket but due to the fast-breaking course of confusing events I didn’t get a chance to study the curious newspaper and TV reports.
Before I escaped in headlong flight to the deep sea from the Research & Development Centre where I had worked at the time, the first atomic war rockets had been launched abroad. Somebody’s nerves snapped and the fatal button was pushed in criminal haste. All parties were convinced that Rhodan’s scientific discovery would tip the power scale against them. Each one felt disadvantaged and mistrusted his neighbours. This led inexorably to the war nobody wanted.
I had sat out the explosions in the safety of the ocean’s depth. Now I stood in front of the observation panel, attempting to rationalize my instinctive reluctance. I put compulsion to investigate it.
The bell sounded behind me. Everything was ready for me to leave.
Before departing I cast a last look at a telephoto picture which was probably taken from a space station. It showed a glistening object engulfed in fluorescing light in the middle of the hot sands of The Gobi.
I had often wondered about this picture. It seemed so mysterious. At least it seemed unthinkable to me that a primitive rocket could have such a sophisticated energy shield.
It was better to dismiss the thought. What good was it to ponder events of times long gone by. Mankind had dug its own grave and Maj. Perry Rhodan who had innocently started the whole mad mess must have died long ago. He was already over 30 years old when the conflagration broke out.
The observation panel was dimmed. I gave a few more instructions to the programmer and walked clumsily to the receding airlock hatch.
Rico didn’t utter a word. I was alone in my undersea fortress and I would probably be just as forlorn up above. The heavy bulkhead closed shut behind me. I activated my protective field and waited till the synchronized circuit of the automatic pressure equalizer showed the green light. Then I pulled down the lever for the flooding valve and the air ventilator.
The highly pressurized, foaming water rushed in through the intake slots in the floor of the flood chamber and filled the airlock in a few seconds. The high-pitched whistling of displaced air diminished. Finally the swirling eddies tossing me around in the chamber despite my efforts to stand fast, calmed down as well. This airlock was designed only as an emergency exit.
My protective shield worked faultlessly. I moved smoothly and safely inside the shell which held enough air to let me leisurely float tip to the surface.
I had to adjust my gravity regulator to a higher value because I was helplessly stuck to the ceiling of the air chamber due to the natural buoyancy.
After a few minutes of careful adjustments I found my balance. The outside hatch slid silently back, opening the dark depths of the sea with its mysterious denizens.
I cautiously stepped out. As my protective shield was rigid and not flexible it would have been futile to make swimming motions. I walked on the bottom which was here virtually flat and merely had to overcome the resistance of the water.
The infrared searchlight in my massive helmet lit up. Through the special glasses I wore I obtained as good a view across a few hundred feet of water as in bright sunshine.
Preferring not to switch on the automatic propulsion I slowly moved over the rocky plateau, leaving the steel sphere behind me in the unfathomable darkness.
I was surrounded by utter silence—nerve-wracking silence. There had probably been only a very few men who had ever been as lonely as I was. I refrained from examining the strong sphere in which I had resisted the elements for 69 years. This was long enough!
Barely 600 feet from the shelter began the tremendous underwater drop. I stepped to the edge of the gorge and leaned over, directing my helmet searchlight into the depth.
A luminous deep-sea fish approached with curiosity. I knew already that many inhabitants of the water were stimulated by infrared light. It was a sheer delight to watch the mostly bizarrely shaped fish perform their ecstatic dances. Everything took place in total silence. No noise interrupted the quiet which, after one had adapted oneself to it, no longer seemed eerie but became a solemn experience. On the other hand it could have been the characteristic make-up of my people to react differently to such impressions than most men.
The first smile crossed my lips when the fish came closer, began to sway and gradually went into a slow dance while its red and blue body shone with dazzling light. "Hello, little friend!" I called out to him.
I listened to my words and imagined the nimble little fellow would answer me. Finally I had to shoo him away because he was getting too close to the high-tension energy field. I didn’t want to kill anything, not even a fish. Nothing is more sacred on a devastated planet than the last remnants of life.
This thought stirred me from my absorption. A check of my instruments gave only positive results. My measurements revealed no radioactivity. It probably required extremely sensitive meters like the sensors in the steel sphere to locate the radiation zone.
I adjusted the magnitude of the antigrav field to give me a slight uplift and drifted effortlessly across the wide gorge.
My shell had the effect of a high-intensity light and attracted more and more fish.
Then I floated a few more miles north till I reached the massive rock base of the Azores where I started to soar upward at 15 feet per second.
Other fish appeared. My searchlight revealed several rocky promontories. The first deep-sea plants came into my view, many of a variety, which were still unknown. Mankind had pushed into outer space before its own planet had been completely explored.
Bemused, I smiled quietly until I remembered the atomic disaster which had befallen them. It quickly wiped the smile off my lips. At this moment the little alarm of the detection device in my protective suit started to buzz.
Some impulses were picked up by my energy shield which reflected them accurately due to its stable structure. For a few moments I was vexed and listened to the buzz of the alarm set which was getting stronger. I thought it could perhaps be one of those deep-sea monsters who located their prey with a wide pattern of ultrasonic waves. It was typical for these predators who had no other way of satiating their considerable need for nourishment in these dark waters.
I was prepared to defend myself when I suddenly realized that these hard waves could never originate from a fish.
After a few moments I could dispense with the warning signal from my buzzer. The impulses striking me from a high-frequency sonar underwater detector made a noise sounding like a high-pitched piiiiing-piiiiing.
For several seconds I was stunned in my shell. Something incredible had happened, something that was supposed to have ceased to exist long ago. The memory storage of my extra-sense became active. People of my kind never forget.
With a sudden shock I grasped a fact which I had up to now totally ignored.
Atomic submarine, survivors, caution! my extra-sense reported.
In an irrational effort I began paddling with my arms and legs. My limited underwater propulsion field allowed me to move 10 miles per hour at best. This was only sufficient for a leisurely cruise but far from enough to flee from a submarine with a high-speed atomic engine.
The salty eye-fluid trickled down my cheeks, a sign that my senses had been irritated. The impinging impulses grew stronger. Before I could reach the safety of the nearest ravine I was caught in a glaring searchlight. The muffled hum of a powerful engine could be heard and I knew beyond doubt that my equipment was insufficient to cope with the menace.
I stopped my threshing and looked with blinking eyes into the flood of light.
They probably thought I was a denizen of the sea. What else could they believe? There was no person on Earth who had an anti-radiation suit like mine.
My brain reacted logically and soberly. To fight was useless because I had nothing with which to attack this fish of steel. Moreover I had neither the intention nor the desire of harming survivors of the atomic war in any way. It boiled down to the fact that the only thing that mattered was how to get safely inside the ship.
I reduced my speed, realizing that my body looked at best like a blurred shadow to them. The hull of my energy field gleamed much too bright to permit a good look inside.
My nervous system functioned satisfactorily. I was not afraid. I listened carefully to the ebbing thunder of the engines. After a few seconds I went into a dance, imitating a lured fish and hoping that nobody would entertain the idea of spearing me with a harpoon. I knew very well how big game fish were caught underwater before the war. Any violent impact would be highly detrimental to the equilibrium of my anti-radiation field.
They were hunting me; there was no doubt about it. Now and then I caught a glimpse of the shadowy contours of a small submarine. It happened whenever I managed to dodge the blinding searchlight for a fraction of a second.
By the time I noticed that I was getting close to a steep abyss it was already too late. It was better not to challenge the hunters or to make them suspicious. Hunters can be outsmarted but not in the crude manner I wanted to do subconsciously. Naturally they expected me to disappear in the dark crack at the first opportunity.
I heard a short, sharply hissing noise.
Compressed air launcher! my extra-sense signalled.
Without moving I waited for the strike. It would have been folly to attempt an escape from a self-steering missile.
A glistening projectile raced toward me and reached me after exactly 2½ seconds. I saw the contact tip of the high-tension warhead penetrate into my defence shield, causing it to be deflected and ignited.
Brilliant light enveloped my defence shield. The micro-reactor in my backpack beeped an alarm and the red danger signal on my wrist began to blink. Field overload!
Painful shock currents shot through my body. I screamed and doubled over, desperately trying to stave off the beginning paralysis of my nervous system.
With the last ounce of my strength I flicked the switch of my radio down to call into my throat mike with a failing voice, "Cut out the nonsense, I’ll come willingly!"
Their receivers were probably tuned in to a different frequency. Who could tell how long these people had lived in their submarine. They probably boarded it at the time of the global catastrophe.
A second torpedo hit my protective field. Again I was flooded with blinding light and my body was thrown into convulsions. The last impression I had was a feeling of instant acceleration. Then my protective field collapsed. Its capacity had been extremely overloaded.
Everything went dark around me. Something sounded like the gushing of a waterfall.
Waterfall? In the ocean’s depths? Ridiculous!
It was a vague impulse transmitted by my extra-sense to my dulled mind. Naturally no such thing as a waterfall existed in the middle of the ocean.
My screen expired with a final flicker.
It’s all over! I thought; irrevocably over!