Barren Waters - The Complete Novel: (A Post-Apocalyptic Tale of Survival) Page 3
He coughed and smoothed errant strands of hair from his face. “Right. Well, they’d like me to test the area for levels of several specific elements, particularly nitrogen and phosphorous.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “That all? Not checking for any sudden increases in oxygen as well?”
He blinked. “What exactly do you do, Miss Abner? Or is it ‘Mrs.?’
“It’s Ms., or just Olivia, and I’m not just here to act as your escort. I’m a biological oceanographer.”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “So you’re the brawn and I’m the brains.”
She shook her head. “A common misconception, Liam. We’re actually more alike than you might think. You study the elements and properties of seawater and I study the various life forms that make that water its home.”
He nodded and casually crossed his ankle over his knee. “You’re right, although sometimes I admire what you do more than what I do. I’ve never seen much fieldwork myself. I’ve never been much of a seaman, though I love the sea.” He lifted his shoulders. “Yeah I know. Ridiculous choice of profession right? Man suffers seasickness and makes the sea his life’s work. But I’ve made it work for me. I’m still a bit jealous of you though. My lab is a white-walled building full of chemicals and test tubes. Your lab is all of this.” He gestured to the expanse of water behind his back, and then lifted his face and squinted into the sun. “Whatever all of this has come to be I suppose.”
She sat back and tucked her legs beneath her. “Are you able to level with me? Are you here because of the government’s Hail Mary to fix this disaster?”
He peered out toward the peaceful waves, his voice lower, eyes unfocused, as if he could see something she couldn’t. “It’s not so much a Hail Mary, Olivia. The science is actually sound. They installed the oxygen pumps a few months ago in an attempt to stimulate life. It was quite a feat of geoengineering if you really think about it. And if it works at the dirty mouth of the Mississippi then it might work at much larger sites.”
“Oh don’t get me wrong. I agree. It’s quite a feat of science indeed. I’m certainly not disputing that. It’s not the implementation of it that bothers me. It’s their timing that sucks.” She tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. “Their attempts at the beginning of the twenty-second century to reduce the amount of actual waste being dumped into the river all but failed, and so they had to turn to technological innovation instead. Don’t you find it insane that a species as intelligent and resourceful as our own couldn’t see fit to stop the problem at its source?”
He smiled. “Couldn’t see fit to stop it, or wouldn’t see fit to?”
“Touché. As a people, we’re ever able to find complicated and ingenious ways to treat the symptoms, yet we stray from examining the origins of the disease itself.” She sighed and folded her hands. “So that’s what you’re here to do. Take samples to see how our treatments are coming along?”
He laced his hands over his knee. “That’s it exactly. Essentially they’d like me to test the area for any improvement and report back to D.C. as soon as possible. May I ask what you’re here to do? Besides pilot the submersible of course.”
“Same as you. I’ll be taking some samples of my own.”
“And what do you expect to find?”
She met his gaze and then shifted her eyes over his shoulder. “I don’t expect I’ll find anything, actually. Here, I expect the ocean to be as dead as it’s been for a decade.”
With that she stood. “I need to check with the captain. We’ll be setting out soon and I need to prepare the wetsuits.”
He responded with a groan. “Wetsuits? We’re going in the water?”
“Of course not,” she scoffed. “They’re strictly precautionary.”
Again, her gaze crawled over his attire and returned to his eyes. “You can’t very well descend into the ocean in jeans, Mr. Colt.”
He watched her rise from the white sofa and move toward the stern. A biological oceanographer? Her? She certainly didn’t look like a scientist. Not any he’d ever seen at least. He straightened and slid to the edge of the bench. Peering over the side of the boat, he examined the water that lapped the hull. This was all for show, he thought with dismay, all just a waste of time. But show or not, he’d do his part. He’d take his samples and do as he’d been told, but he didn’t expect the oxygen levels to have improved much at all. He agreed with her, and though he’d not said as much, her point about the timing was apt. How had she so eloquently put it? Right. That the timing sucked. And yes. It did. It was simply too late and Liam already knew it.
He remembered a time when the dead zone was seasonal. It would begin to appear toward the end of spring and would be broken up in early September when the tropical storms and hurricanes swept ashore. But that was over a decade ago and everything had changed is such a short amount to time. Now the dead zones covered such a large area that they were ever-present year-round. There were currently over 2,000 dead zones around the world’s oceans, and they weren’t even the ocean’s deadliest problems.
He rummaged through his files and pulled out his pH graphs. While on this excursion, he also meant to test the water’s acidity. Though he’d previously examined countless reports and graphs in his office, he wanted to take his own measurements and draw his own conclusions. The world’s oceans faced a myriad of attacks from countless masked assailants. Scientists like him were vigilant as they looked for certain markers, specific signals that would herald the end. He hated to be a pessimist, but he had long considered the ocean beyond saving. So much so in fact, that recently he’d begun to make plans. Good plans.
Over the past several years he’d begun to stockpile supplies, had even settled on a place; a secure place high in the Tennessee Mountains, surrounded by acre after acre of uninhabited forestland. He’d even purchased a cabin there, a comfortable and isolated place; a cozy lodge with a bird’s eye view, a place where one might sit comfortably to watch the end of the world.
“Liam?” Olivia called. “We’re ready.”
He took his wetsuit to the small cabin below and dressed quickly, eager to return topside where the nauseating rolling of the ship was less noticeable. Olivia was all business. She helped him into the submersible and talked him through the basic safety precautions and emergency procedures. She was patient and possessed of a calming bedside manner, and he barely even noticed when the winch began to turn and lower the submersible into the cloudy waters. A thick glass dome offered panoramic views of miles and miles of water. He watched it crest the top of the dome then forced himself to settle into his black leather chair. This was indeed a superb craft, and Olivia an accomplished pilot. She seemed comfortable at the controls and he willed himself to breath evenly.
“I suppose you’d like to begin by collecting a sample at thirty feet?”
Her voice crackled loudly through his headphones, and he fumbled for the volume control. He nodded and wiped his damp palms uselessly against his rubber suit. God. He hated to think of how ridiculous he must seem to her. He was a chemical oceanographer for Pete’s sake. He loved the ocean. He really did. In his opinion it truly was the planet’s last uncharted territory. Forget space. Deep ocean marine life could be as alien as anything a talented Hollywood makeup artist could think to create. It was just that he’d always loved the ocean more when his feet were set firmly upon its shores. The chemical side of things allowed him to feel like part of it all without requiring him to dive into its depths.
He breathed to a count of ten and then scrutinized the landscape that surrounded him on all sides. The yellow glow of the submersible’s lights cast a peculiar green haze about the environment, yet failed to reveal any signs of life. The waters were barren, save for the small fragments of plant and debris that spun and floated with the movements of the tides and the propulsion of the oxygen pumps. The depth gauge put the submersible at twenty-eight feet and an involuntary shudder ran through him.
Olivia put her hand on hi
s knee. “Everything all right?”
He cleared his throat. “Fine. It’s just strange. Uncomfortable even. It’s actually quite eerie to see it in person. There’s nothing here. It’s dead. Empty.” He gripped his armrests and peered into the abyss. “There’s nothing here at all. It’s astounding. Look at it.”
Her voice sounded distant, her words edged with sorrow. “I know. It’s like we’re in a giant tub of standing water. We might see an occasional jellyfish, but other than that, this little part of the world is extinct.”
He leaned forward and peered into the vast field of dark water. It was endless and deep, an immense and massive maw that pressed onto them from all sides. To Liam, the absence of life was more frightening than any underwater zoo could ever be. A nervous laugh bubbled from his lips. “I feel like I’m in a Jaws movie, like some giant shark is about to swim from the blackness and attack the sub.”
She laughed. She was kind. “Trust me, Liam. There haven’t been sharks in this part of the ocean for over ten years. No fish for fifteen.”
“Olivia, do you think the oceans are beyond saving?”
He bit his lip. Damn. Why did he have to sound like such an alarmist? No. Alarmist was kind. He was sure he sounded more like a kook. He didn’t mean to appear so somber to her, and he surely didn’t want to come off as a crazed doomsayer or wacky scientist full of outlandish conspiracy theories. He just wanted to hear the opinion of someone who might be able to think objectively, someone with a similar base of knowledge, and training in the field.
She settled her gaze upon him and he marveled at how attractive she was. The blue glow from the control panel set her hair ablaze with cerulean light. Her reply was soft and rich with emotion. “Unfortunately I do. I think we’re well past the point of no return. But I don’t think it was one thing or another that did it. I think it was a perfect storm of events, so to speak, the collapse of the Berkut oil platform, and the resulting spill, the acidification of the ocean from increased levels of CO2, and the collapse of the fishing markets in the Far East.”
She cast her gaze to the dark waters just beyond the glass. “Think of it, Liam. China had become one of the world’s super powers. They’d very nearly taken the baton from the United States, as easily as a bully would from the clutching hands of a baby. It was really just a simple turn of fate that handed the reigns back to us, a mathematical calculation that tipped the scales back in our favor. Put simply, they overfished their waters, and as a result, over three quarters of their population starved to death. And it was the same in Japan and parts of Africa too. That, in addition to the loss of the world’s coral reefs, well, it was all just too much in my opinion. The loss of the reefs alone set off a chain reaction that couldn’t be stopped.”
“It all began with the extinction of the whales,” he muttered softly.
“Yes. That it did. Well, to be clear, it began with the plankton. But we’ll go with the whales.”
With a final look at the gauge she called out their position and diverted his attention to the craft’s metal appendage. “Okay. We’re suspended at thirty feet. That mechanical arm in front of the craft will gather our samples, then we’ll descend to sixty feet, and finally to ninety.”
He watched her work, admired her slender fingers as they traveled over the series of buttons and levers in front of her. He hadn’t meant to talk about any of this, but there was something about her that calmed him, and he found himself curious about her.
“What drew you to this occupation if you don’t mind me asking?”
She shrugged, though he caught the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. “My parents once took me to Destin, Florida when I was just a little girl. I’d never before seen water that clear or that blue, or sand that white. I remember the way we dug our feet into the warm sand, made drip-castles of it with tall spires and deep moats, how we collected shells along the shoreline. It was the first time I’d ever seen the ocean.”
She hazarded a glance in his direction and smiled thinly. “That was back when that strip of the gulf was still habitable. The emerald coast was what they called it back then. An apt name it had certainly been. ‘Emerald’,” she added wistfully. Her smile was sad. “The water there sparkled and shone beneath the sun, almost as if God had seen fit to cast gems over its surface.” She peered at him sidelong and shrugged. “I suppose my love affair began on those shores and deepened in the shallows of those waters.”
She met his eyes, her smile broadening, and he found himself staring at her white teeth. “That summer we took a tour on a glass-bottom boat and I can’t explain in words just how beautiful it was, the colors and textures of the reefs, the vibrancy and variety of the fish. It was like a painter had wished to use every available color on his palette and had chosen each at random. I loved that it was at once haphazard and harmonious. I guess it captured my heart and imagination both.” She exhaled softly. “It’s never let me go since.”
He realized with sudden embarrassment that he’d been staring at her long after she’d finished speaking. He was mesmerized, and had to nearly pinch himself out of the trance.
He pressed her further, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He was bordering on kooky again. “Olivia, do you ever stop to think what you might do if the world does eventually collapse? I mean more so than it has already.”
She shook her head. “I really haven’t. I suppose I’m not a good planner. That, or I somehow believe in my heart that in the end, our species will find a way through this, that humans can somehow dig us out of this mess we’ve made. I mean, how can we let it all go like this? It’s unthinkable.”
He smiled. “Well, then I suppose it’s a good thing you met me because I’m an excellent planner.”
She glimpsed at him sidelong and cocked her head. “Are you flirting with me, Liam?”
They collected their samples at thirty feet and descended to sixty and did the same. They spoke of trivial things and kept the mood light despite the depressing landscape that surrounded them. They were isolated in the blackness, more alone that Liam ever felt before. They two were the only living things for miles.
Though unnerving, it was an odd sort of peace, the only sounds the whirring of the submersible’s engine, the soft purr of oxygen flowing through the craft’s vents, and the clicks and snaps of her hands as they traveled across the levers and instruments that lined the console in front of them. He found that he couldn’t take his eyes off the water. The ocean had been ailing since before he could remember. It’d been suffering a slow decline for more than a century. It was a patient struggling against the rot of cancer, a victim that’d fallen prey to a parasite that was sucking the very life from it. This strange world was choking without oxygen.
The craft continued to descend through the heavy obsidian layers until a sudden swirling of sand and silt began to obscure their vision.
“The pumps,” Liam pointed out quietly. “Don’t get too close.”
The industry of their mechanical processes upset the water around them. The craft gently rocked with the movements and Liam gripped the edge of his armrests with talon-like fingers. Gallons of water were sucked into the pumps and enriched with oxygen. He watched as treated water was then spit from a series of pumps at the rear. Deep trenches were dug into the bottom of the sea where the force of the water had created a large canyon.
Olivia angled the craft and shone the submersible’s light on the enormous apparatus. The many steel pipes and tubes crawled over the bottom of the sea like a cluster of snakes. Sand billowed from both openings as the system attempted to perform CPR on a long-dead patient.
The craft rolled suddenly and Liam released a small cry. He grimaced. Jesus, he sounded like a little girl.
Olivia pulled the craft higher. “This is as close as we can get. Any closer and we might find ourselves sucked into the mouth of that tube.”
He nodded. “Let’s just get the samples and get out of here.”
She worked the lever and he wat
ched as the arm extended in front of them and took samples of the turbulent waters. Her eyes were wide as she followed the submersible’s light to the complex field of ductwork below.
“It’s huge,” she said with awe. “It must have cost millions.”
“It did. Actually billions if you include the cost of labor to actually set it all up.” He brought a hand to his temple and shook his head. “I guess we’ll soon see if it was money well spent.”
A small green light at the left of Olivia’s hand flashed and let them know the samples were taken, and she began to fold the arm back into the submersible’s body. She peered over at Liam, her brow creased. “This isn’t scalable you know. What’s the plan? We’re going to set this up across every dead zone? Who’ll pay for all this?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know they won’t pay for it if it isn’t working.” He took a last look at the man-made circulatory system and sighed. It wasn’t right. Synthesized life was no life at all. None of this belonged down here and he suddenly felt a strong impulse to leave.
He caught Olivia’s gaze. “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”
She slipped into the high-back chair with graceful elegance and a whisper of silk against bare skin. “You’re late,” he noted. “But you look lovely so I suppose you’re forgiven.”
She smiled and lifted the napkin from the table. “So then, what’s the verdict?”
“You’re not one for small talk are you?”
“Not when it comes to this,” she returned. “So tell me. I’m sure you’ve already tested the samples. I know I would’ve. Out with it. I’ve been waiting all day with bated breath. Are the pumps working?”
He leaned forward and inspected the deep cobalt of her eyes. Such an unusual color they were, and how he hated to think that he was about to mute the sparkle that twinkled within them. “You tell me. What do you think Olivia? Do you believe technology can be the savior of our species?”