Into the Abyss (Tom Swift, Young Inventor) (14 page)

“Hello there, Tom,” Q.U.I.P. said as I hooked up the final wire. “Nice to be talking again.”

Since I’d taken his chip out of my watch so I could use it for the explosive charge, he’d been without a voice.

“Didn’t the explosives work?”

“No. We’re going to try something else.”

“And what would that be?”

“Q.U.I.P.—I’m going to use the prototype to free the
Verne-1
.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going to ram this baby into those two big boulders until the
Verne-1
is free. Correction—
you’re
going to do it.”

While I was telling him all this, I was busy refilling my air tank with most of the
Verne-0
’s remaining supply. That would give me a full one and a half hours worth of air—enough to get the job done and, hopefully, save myself as well.

“My calculations tell me that such a collision would result in the destruction of the prototype, Tom.”

That’s right, Q.U.I.P.,” I said. “I won’t be needing it anymore.”

“Will you be going up to the surface with the
Verne-1
, then?”

“Um … sort of. Don’t worry about me, okay? Just follow your instructions.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Tom, but … it seems to me that this plan results in the end of
me
.”

“Q.U.I.P.,” I said, “I’m going to do my best to save you. But if the prototype’s destroyed, I’ll just have to reconstitute you from the program on the super-computer.”

“But Tom—”

“Q.U.I.P., it’s either you or my dad. And he’s … well,
he’s nonrenewable. Besides, he’s my
dad
. I know you can’t really understand that, but well, that’s how it is.”

“I see.”

But I could tell he really didn’t. As intelligent as Q.U.I.P. is, he’s still artificial. He doesn’t have emotions.

“Well,” I said, “here goes nothing.”

I strapped my tank and helmet back on, stepped into the air lock, and then walked out onto the sea floor. Using the dim lights of the prototype and the
Verne-1
to guide me, I got into position, as close to the
Verne-1
as I dared to go.

Okay,” I told
Q.U.I.P.
over our wireless connection. “Let her rip.”

I watched as the prototype lifted off the sea floor, kicking up a cloud of black mud as it went into motion.

It headed straight for the two big boulders that had crushed the rear section of the
Verne-1
, and slammed into the larger of the two, full force.

WHAM!

I felt the water push me backward as shock waves from the collision washed past me.

Shaken by the impact of the sub, the huge boulder
rolled slowly over and toppled off the
Verne-1
and down the slope I’d just climbed up.

Yes!
One down, one to go.

The prototype backed away, wobbling now but still under control, and pointed itself toward the second boulder.

WHAM!

The second boulder wavered, but then fell back into place.

Again, the prototype smashed itself against the huge rock—and this time, the poor little sub broke in two! But the boulder didn’t move.

“Noooo!” I screamed, watching as the last of the air that had been sealed inside the
Verne-0
leaked out of the crack in its titanium hull, sending millions of bubbles rising three miles up to the surface.

The little submersible was ruined forever—but to my surprise, Q.U.I.P. and the
Verne-0
weren’t finished yet. Somehow, the prototype backed up and managed one more valiant charge—and this time, miraculously, the boulder toppled over!

As the
Verne-0
split completely in two, I saw the stern of the
Verne-1
rise out of the rubble.
She was free!

I made my way forward now and waved to my dad
through the ship’s porthole. “Everything okay?” I asked him.

“So far so good,” he said. Then, “Tom, why haven’t you been answering my transmissions?”

“Well, I could barely breathe for a while,” I said. “And after—well, I didn’t want you to know what I was up to.”

I could see his expression darken. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’ve … I’ve trashed the prototype,” I said.

“All right,” he said, nodding. “We can jettison the rest of the seismic sensors—that will give us enough space in here for you to get hauled up to the surface with us.”

“Uh, that won’t work, Dad.”

Oh? Why not?”

“Because the outer door of your air lock is bashed in. Even if I could get it to work, it’s no longer watertight. We’d flood the ship if we opened the inner door.”

“Well, then … how do you plan to get up to the surface without the prototype? Do you even have enough air in your tanks?”

“Just about,” I said—although the truth was, it all
depended on how long it took to drag the
Verne-1
up to the surface.

Because the only way I could get up there fast enough was by hitching a ride on the outside of the submersible.

13
 
 
The Rising

“Dad?” I said. “Any second now, the
Nestor
’s going to start hauling up the cable.” I sure hoped so, anyway.

There was a short silence. Then, “You’re going to hang on to the ship, aren’t you.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“That’s right.”

I heard him swallow hard. “Hold on tight, son.”

“I will.”

“One more thing, Tom—it’s going to get dark for you out there. We’re just about out of power in here. … So … I guess we’d better say good-bye right now.”

I could hear his voice get tight. “I love you, son.”

“Love you too, Dad,” I said.

What else was there to say?

It was time to get busy. I had to find a good spot to hang on to before the
Verne-1
’s power went out and I was plunged into total darkness—and before Bud and the captain started hauling us up to the surface.

I scanned the sub as well as I could in the semi-darkness. My gaze fell on a likely spot, on top of the
Verne-1
and toward the air lock. If I positioned myself just right, I could hold the cable with my arms locked around it. I could then brace both my feet up against the jagged, broken top of the outer air-lock door.

No sooner did the idea pop into my head than the lights of the sub dimmed, flickered, and died. The other end of my wireless connection went to static.

Okay. Now I had to find the spot without using my eyes, or talking to Q.U.I.P. or Dad.

Simple. Same as “Pin the Tail on the Donkey”—except I always stunk at that game.

Totally blind, I felt around the side of the hull until I found the air-lock door. Then—slowly and carefully, so as not to damage my suit any more than it already was—I climbed up the door, finding foot and hand holds on its jagged edges.

Finally, I hauled myself up onto the top of the submersible and wrapped my arms around the thick steel cable. I was just perfecting my footholds on the top of the door when, with a sudden jerk, the cable snapped tight.

We were being hauled up!

The
Verne-1
wobbled like crazy—front to back, back to front, and side to side at the same time! It was really hard to hang on, at least until the continual rise and pull of the cable gave the
Verne-1
time to steady itself (though it was still far from a smooth ride).

Up we went. Slowly. So slowly that I started to wonder if my oxygen—or the sub’s—would hold out long enough.

The waves and wind up on the surface must have been pretty strong still, because the cable, as it rose, also swayed from side to side.

Even worse, it went up in fits and starts. Every time I tried to shift my position slightly, I nearly got knocked off the cable when it gave another yank!

Then there was the weight of the water pressing down on me hard as I rose the three miles toward the surface. At the beginning, with me and the sub at
fifteen thousand feet, I felt like I was shouldering a thousand-pound weight. And while the load grew lighter as we rose, it didn’t feel that way to me. That’s because, over time, I was getting more and more exhausted.

My dwindling supply of air didn’t help any either. The more I breathed, and the deeper the breaths I took, the less air there was for the last part of my ride.

By breathing less, I might save a few last gasps for the end—and those few gasps might be the difference between life and death.

This trip up through the regions of the sea was taking
forever
—and the fact that it was pitch-dark all around me made it really scary, too. I had no idea what was out there in the blackness. Maybe another giant squid.

It was a relief when light began to filter faintly down from the surface. The fact that I saw a school of hungry-looking sharks circling up in the distance didn’t even faze me. At least I could see them—and if they came any closer, I could give them a charge with my zapper.

Now that we were getting closer to our ultimate
rescue, I began to believe I was going to make it out of this alive after all. If I got really lucky, there’d be enough air in both my tank and the submersible for us all to survive.

That’s when the cable gave a sudden pull. My feet weren’t braced well enough for such a sharp yank, and they slid off the edge of the air-lock door. My arms slipped, too—leaving me dangling literally by my fingernails!

I scrambled to get my arms firmly back around the cable. Then I held on for all I was worth and kicked out wildly, trying to get my feet back into position. Somehow, I couldn’t seem to move them much at all. They felt like they still had those heavy weights on them—even though I knew I’d gotten rid of them.

Then why did they feel like the weights were still there? Suddenly I realized what was happening—
my legs had fallen asleep!

Sure enough, being in one, cramped position for so long had caused them to numb out. I knew what was going to happen next—pins and needles.

OW! That really hurt!

The cable was swaying more wildly now that we were approaching the surface. It rocked me back and
forth, straining my arms as I dangled like a rag doll.

I wondered if I was strong enough to hold on much longer. Looking up, I saw that the circle of sharks had grown closer, forming a tight ring around me.

Uh-oh
. I could feel myself getting light-headed—just as the pins and needles in my legs were starting to calm down too!

If I didn’t get myself together in a hurry, I was going to end up being pulled away from the cable by a strong set of shark jaws, then dropped to the sea bottom as soon as Jaws found out he couldn’t digest my diving suit.

Not a happy ending.

Must … stay … awake …
, I told myself.
Breathe … slowly …
.

The cable was spinning wildly in circles as we rose, but it was definitely getting lighter … and lighter …

Or was it me, getting more and more light-headed as the last of my oxygen got used up?

As I struggled to stay awake, I felt something bump up against me, hard.

“Okay,” I muttered, half-asleep already. “I gotta pusha buddn …”

Summoning my last reserves of strength, I scrambled to get back my foothold. My legs shot bolts of pain up into my brain, but I fought through it, digging the toes of my boots into the jagged rips in the door’s metal skin.

Then, holding on for dear life with my right arm, I used my left to hit the zapper button.

Like magic, in an instant the circle of sharks scattered into the distance!

I did it!
I thought.

“Yes, you did, Tom. I’m proud of you.”

Huh?

“Mom?”

“Hello, Tom.”

Was she calling me from the
Nestor
’s radio? No … that couldn’t be it …. I had no contact with the ship ….

Oh … of course… she must be here under the water with me ….

But what was Mom doing here, under the water?

I was losing it—I could feel the wave of sleep wash over me … or was it a real wave … ?

I closed my eyes, put my head on Mom’s shoulder … and let the blackness come over me.

14
 
 
Survivor