CROSSFIRE - Atlantis DSV - New Cape Quest

murky darkness ahead of a hull that had already been covered in mud and debris. The
depression she lay in was probably formed when the 240,000 tonne submarine collided with
the seabed, kicking up hundreds of tonnes of sediment. The vast wings of the submarine
comprised an area the better part of two football fields by themselves, and their downward
slope and considerable mass – designed to keep the great vessel‟s trim stable at close to
transcavitational speeds – had done her a service in keeping the keel upright. If the ballast
tanks within those wings were deliberately breached and flooded as Ainsley‟s report had
always held, then she had been saved by that final act. Hornsby doubted much would have
been left of the ship if she had listed and gone down at an angle. The impact of one of those
massive wings, ahead of a quarter of a million tonnes of titanium, carbon composites and
steel, would have almost certainly destroyed her.
The delicate, almost deliberately covert footsteps behind her were something that
Hornsby was going to need to get used to, she decided with a half-smile. The footsteps
stopped well-short of the Conn. It was a subtle but deliberate decision that Hornsby knew
was being made as a respectful consideration before she slowly turned.
The woman wore a black, high-collared tunic uniform trimmed in gold piping,
although it gave Hornsby a momentary pause to note she wore the jacket open, the top
button of the white blouse unfastened comfortably. For a Nycarian, it practically passed as
completely casual attire.
“What do you make of this?” Hornsby asked her, turning on a heel to stand next to
the woman.
Anniel raised an eyebrow as she straightened and looked at the indicated sensor log
with a slowly narrowing gaze. “Interesting,” she started. “The hull has sunk on an even keel.”
“Mhmm,” Hornsby agreed with a half-smile. “Go on.”
The Nycarian looked briefly at Hornsby, realising full well the UEO Captain was
weighing and judging her every comment. She was welcome to those examinations, but it
did nothing to faze her. “According to Admiral Ainsley‟s report, and the findings of the inquiry,
the destruction of the starboard ballast tanks should have led to an uncontrolled sinking... If
my knowledge of the hull composition and construction is correct, the loss of equilibrium
would have resulted in a catastrophic loss of hull integrity at a depth of approximately five
thousand feet.”
Hornsby smiled at Ari, who maintained a particularly smug grin from her small
pedestal next to the Conn. “She‟s after your job, Ari,” Hornsby prodded.
The AI sniffed, but the Nycarian continued to stare at the plot.
...It started as a high-pitched whine that turned in to a shrill, piercing stab of noise,
echoing and bouncing through decks and corrid throughout the Aquarius moments later. The
crew stopped, looking at each other in surprise at the distinct, unmistakeable sound.
“Active hypersonar ping,” Mackenzie confirmed as it lingered on.
“Origin?”
Mackenzie was about to reply when the monitors around the bridge began wink out.
They were steady at first, but then other, secondary systems began to stutter.
Davis Akara barked an alarm from tactical, and he was very quickly followed by
almost every other station officer on the bridge.
It happened too fast for anyone to realise, or even report. Next to Hornsby, on the
small, unassuming pedestal adjacent to the plot, Ari stammered.
“Captain... Something is... very...”
Then the impetuous AI, too, flickered. For a moment, genuine surprise covered Ari‟s
face before she dissolved in to static, the image buffers projecting light on the haze of water
vapour unable to process her routine information fast enough as the main computers were
overrun by a flood of data that surged through them. It seemed the most unlikely of
scenarios: Ari, a living, sentient computer built on the DNA of a human mind, permanently
hardwired in to the most sophisticated system of slaved neural-fibre supercomputers,
capable of processing the battlespace of an entire theatre down to most comprehensive of
fine detail in real time, blacked out. Firewalls failed, countermeasure programs were
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