Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/1553722-Promethean-Depths
by Flaw
Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Sci-fi · #1553722
A revolutionary submarine loses all communication almost 50,000 feet below the surface...
A massive earthquake in the Pacific Ocean uncovers an ancient sea trench, hidden for millennia under a sheet of rock and sediment. Initial probing reveals it to be deeper than the Mariana Trench; previously thought the deepest trench on earth. This seems a perfect chance to test the revolutionary new submarine, the Archaea - just developed to finally reveal the secrets of the depths. Conditions appear perfect as it dives to nearly 50,000 feet into the pitch black Promethean Trench.

But all is not as it seems. When the Archaea's sensors all start to report ridiculous findings, the crew begins to believe that their revolutionary submarine isn't all that revolutionary afterall. But they don't have long to think, as suddenly all power is lost; lights go out, the comforting hum of the engines becomes silent, accompanied by the disquieting sound of the life support systems spluttering to a halt. Trapped in limbo with thousands of tons of water above their head and very little chance of rescue, the crew quickly grow anxious. With no clear signs of the disruption that lost the Archaea's power, they are completely at the mercy of a depleteing air supply and subzero temperatures. Worse still, some of the crew begin to swear there are noises coming from outside the hull...

There is a price to be paid for learning the planet's best kept secrets...

1. The most important rule; have fun!
2. Any questions, feel free to mail me :)
3. Try to keep everything within the age rating (go easy on the swearing, gore...you know the drill)
George Wells sat at the monitor, watching the bright point of light that was his only son slowly creeping down the screen.

Ten-thousand feet

'I should be with him,' George muttered ruefully. He remembered his glory days; the power he'd felt in his sovreignty over the open ocean. Not that it had lasted long. The sea had no master, even if George was loath to admit it. Perhaps he didn't want his little boy to share that same disappointment.
He's not a little boy any more, George, his subconsciousness reprimanded him, he hasn't been you're little boy for a long time, old man.

Twenty-thousand feet

George sipped his black coffee anxiously, wincing slightly at the cheap, metallic taste. He didn't like coffee.
He knew the voice in the back of his mind spoke the truth, but he couldn't bare to admit that to himself. Not now, not when he could have seen his son for the last time.
Don't think like that, George, he told himself, you know the Archaea's state of the art; you helped build it.

Thirty-thousand feet

With that realisation came a renewed sense of hope, of undeniable deservedness. Even if his son wasn't the little, bright-eyed boy he once was, what better gift could he have given him? Some fathers would have given a car, a house, maybe even nothing at all. George had given Jason all the waters of the world and the joy of endless discovery.

Fourty-thousand feet

George watched the screen with a tiny smile creeping across his stoney face. The blip of light no longer represented separation. It was the passing of a torch from father to son.
For the first time in a fair few years, George felt proud.


Somewhere above George's head, a big red light flicked on.
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Jason awoke to the slow inconsistant gloomp of air bubbles from outside. The last he remembered, the Archaea was nearing fifty-thousand feet on the descent and then... had they hit something? or had that something hit them?
He'd never really wanted to come down here; Christ! he'd never even wanted to become a marine biologist in the first place, but his father had been so damned pushy. He himself wanted to go into psychology, an equally respectable science, useless according to his father; he'd even tried to compromise on animal behaviour, but he may as well have tried to soak up his father's precious ocean with a sponge. And still that ominous gloomp from outside.
He noticed his arm was bleeding;he must have scraped it as he fell. it seemed worse than it was in the bursts of angry red and crushing darkness that alternated with timed precision as the warning light screamed out it's silent message. The engines had stopped.
Cara, who was lying on the submarine floor, sat up unsure of what had happened. She had been so excited to be one of the first to explore the Promethean Trench and felt lucky to be aboard the Archaea. She had always been fascinated about the ocean and the creatures that lived beneath the surface that had yet to be discovered.

Cara stood up an looked around, outside the sub were air bubbles while warning lights flashed within the submarine. What had happened? She had been walking around when there had been a strange sound from outside the Archaea. Had something hit them? There was no way they could have hit something, this sub was state of the art! Hitting something couldn’t set the sub engines off, but neither could something hitting the sub as well.

Though wobbly on her feet, she made her way over to a window and stuck her face up against it looking for clues of what could have stopped the engines. As hard as she try, she could make nothing out except the air bubbles that were slowly beginning to fade away.
The cut was not deep. The blood smeared on the table edge and now dripping from his arm made the wound seem worse than it was. In the dark, with the swivelling red warning lights, the blood looked black against the silver-grey floor.
The noise of bubbles outside the sub abruptly ceased as machinery stopped working; replaced with the deathly silence of the depths.
And the creaking of their metal coffin.

Jason could just make out Cara at the window port. At over a metre thick and not entirely clear, the glass didn't give the best view of the pitch darkness beyond. As the red light circulated over her, Jason saw his co-worker's slim figure and long hair tied back in a bun. They'd worked together on projects before and been friends for nearly five years.
Just friends.
In the dark, Jason felt a pang of pain different from the bitter sting of his arm.

"Cara," he said quietly, unwilling to break the stillness, "what happened?"
"We stopped." She stated the obvious like it was a revelation, without turning from the window. Jason saw the corner of her mouth pull up into the small smile he knew so well.
"Well I gathered that much!" he said, smiling himself. Suddenly the pain in his arm didn't hurt so much.

This is your Captain speaking. The voice crackled over the tiny wall speakers.
Everyone should stay calm. We seem to be experiencing a minor technical problems. There is no reason for alarm. We're working on the problem and Archaea should be back to its usual self before you know it.

Cara turned away from the window port and gave a smile of relief, “Only a minor tefhnical problem that’s not too bad.” She noticed Jason’s arm and frowned, “But your arm is. You need to let a doctor see to that.”

“It’s not that bad a cut. It just looks worse under these lights.” He replied brushing her question off.

Cara walked over to him, her footsteps echoing through the room as she approached Jason. Gently she took a hold of his wrist and began to examine his arm. He was right, it wasn’t a bad cut, but it would need to be bandaged up. She looked around the room to see if there was anything she could use to clean his wound. All she found was a roll of paper towels on the table.

Seeing the paper towels made her smile as she thought of her joke about using them to wipe up any leaks earlier that day. Not that you could tell day from night here. “Looks like these will come in handy after all.” She said tearing some off to wipe the blood off his arm. She grabbed a few more to give to him, then began to walk away to throw the dirty ones away. “Apply pressure on your arm, it will help slow the bleeding."

He chuckled, “And where did you learn that from?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said before facing him again. She turned and looked at his face and sighed, ‘it doesn’t matter’ wasn’t a good answer to give a friend. “From my mother, she was a nurse and taught me a thing or two about cuts and bruises.”

The truth was, though her mother was a nurse, everyone had expected Cara to go into medicine when she went to school. Even she had expected herself to go into medicine, but her heart wasn’t into it. She dropped out and had become a marine biologist instead. Though her family said they understood, she always felt a touch of disappointment from them when she spoke about work.

Jason nodded an acceptance to the answer. He of all people understood that feeling. “So, how long do you think it will take them to fix this piece of junk?” he asked, never missing an opportunity to be critical of his father.

“Not long,” she replied confidently, “Your dad's a genius, Jason. If he built this thing, there won't be an problem that he can't solve.” Jason hide his scowl. The Archea was like a sibling to him. George's favourite son. One who's problems he knew how to fix.

George jumped up in suprise, knocking his chair to the floor behind him. A red light had flicked on above him, and the spot of light on his monitor had stopped moving.
George, like everyone does when things go wrong, flicked the monitor a couple of times. Like that would do anything he chided himself. Picking his chair up from the floor, he silently berated himself for thinking anything was awry. The Archaea was state of the art; one of a kind. It had dozens of safety backups for all imaginable situations - power failure, fires, broken machinery, human casualties...you name it, the Archaea had it.

George checked what level the submarine had sunk to. Just above fifty thousand feet. He grunted in disappointment. This could have been the perfect excuse to speak to his son, under the guise of a routine safety check. Unfortunately, radio communications past fourty thousand feet was patchy at best. No. He wouldn't interupt his son's dream. Anyway, what could possibly be wrong with the Archaea?

"Must just be a fault with the machinery this end. Think I'll get a techie in to look it over," he muttered to himself, before picking up the reciever of the phone sat next to him.


Jason looked at Cara's earnest face. She's right he thought. My Dad is a genius...this must be a minor blip

Acceptance of his father's skills came easily to Jason. He always knew how passionate Dad was about his work. When he was younger, Jason had never really taken much of an interest, prefering to study psychology instead. But when his mother had passed away, it seemed George had felt more of an obligation to take care of Jason. And so, ever so slowly, he had steered his son towards the profession he felt was more suitable. In time, George came to believe his offspring had picked up the same fervour for marine biology as he had.

Jason smiled at Cara, and turned to look out the window port with a sigh. His breath misted up the glass before him, staying for a few seconds before slowly fading away. His reflection showed in the glass every few seconds - in tune to the flashing lights. Jason didn't fully recognise the face staring back at him.
What the hell am I doing down here he thought, and sighed again.

Cara flashed him a grin, mistaking his regret for an eagerness to get underway again.
"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll have the problem fixed. It won't be long 'till we're moving again."
"Mmmm" Jason mused. Suddenly he felt rather uneasy in the little room with blood on the floor. He wanted to escape the confinement his father had chosen for him.
"Come on," he said "We're no use here while the power's off. There must be someone in this damn sardine-tin that knows whats going on." He moved to the door, glacing over his shoulder for Cara. She gave him a disapproving look,.
"You know, we should really stay put, Jason. Or don't you remember to last time we ran off together in the dark?" She gave him a coy smile.
Jason rolled his eyes. The fact that nothing had actually happened made the smile, which had been intended to raise his spirits, simply dampen them further.
"Well I'm not staying here. We're no good to anybody here," A sudden idea struck him. "And anyway, you did say my arm needed some attention."
She gave him her disapproving look once again. He winked at her and then turned and walked down the empty corridoor.
She caught up with him in less than a minute, instantly taking the lead.
It was a matter of pride for her, Jason realised. She was a year older than him, had a higher IQ (a fact Cara relished) and was ultimately his senior science officer. Still, she could have her little victories. He had his pleasure in knowing she'd follow him despite her better judgement.

They walked through the science department towards the mess hall. They passed a lab with some shattered glass on the floor and a slow drip drip from somewhere within. Its occupants were nowhere to be seen.
They passed further labs and offices, all vacant. The only noise to be heard was their feet against the panel flooring and the sound of their own breathing. If either of them felt scared, they didn't show it.
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"So who do you really like?" she asked, trying to ease the tension.
"You know Tom?"
"Yeah? What does your Dad think?"
Jason remained silent. Cara knew exactly what his Dad thought, and deep down Jason knew it was the reason he fought with him so much. More times than Jason cared to remember George had tried to set him up with some girl; Cara was the only one he'd stayed friends with, and they kept up a pretence with the rest of the crew.
The lights flickered on as they entered the mess hall and the deathly silence of the corridor was broken momentarily by the low hum of the crew's supressed panic before they too fell silent. All eyes followed as they sat by one of the portholes and the hushed conversations resumed. Jason shivered; with the power only just returning the heating hadn't had time to fully come back and by now every breath rose and hovered in steamy clouds, dancing and swirling like the icy waters just inches away on the other side of the hull. and even as he watched the murky depths in what little light the Archaea provided he saw it, staring back in malcontent. Jason started as the creature snarled and fled, its chitinous claws scuttling frenzied castrophany throughout the sub.
Cara could hardly believe what she was seeing. This creature, fleeing from the light, was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Dark, sharp and menacing, it moved swiftly and dynamically, its claws raking against metal, screetching like nails on a blackboard. There was no doubt. It was an ancient creature. And it was a predator.

Cara looked over at Jason and quietly, not wanting others to hear her, she whispered, “I don’t think this was just a minor mechanical problem.”

“Nah, you think?” He replied back still staring out the window.

Cara frowned, everyone seemed to be transfixed on the window, but she knew it was only a matter of minutes, even seconds, before chaos erupted in the room. “We need to find the captain. Jason, did you hear me?” Cara asked grabbing his arm ready to lead him out of the room. A second after grabbing his arm she knew she had made a mistake; chaos struck.

Cara had grabbed hold of Jason’s wounded arm, causing him to let out a cry of pain. Suddenly all heads in the room turned as one, paniced and on the edge of control.

Cara let go, shocked by the fear in the crews eyes.
"What's wrong, Wells?" One of the men ventured the question they were all thinking. There was the stammer of insecurity in his voice and the tense silence waited eagerly for the response.
"It's nothing," Jason said, but his mind whispered seductively to his subconscious; are your sure, are you certain it was Cara who touched you? "I hurt my arm, she just touched it that's all."
The man to the left of the speaker was the first to break from the trance. He blinked incessently, as he came forward, mumbling about Jason's arm.
"I'll, umm, sit down, Wells," motioned the doctor, "Let me take a look at that arm. Michaels; get my kit from the infirmary, please." The doctor's aide looked unconvinced. Being the young medic's senior in all but qualifications, Michaels had always resented being bossed around, but this was something different. He didn't want to walk the ship alone.
The young Doctor Morris adjusted his glasses.
"Please, Mr Michaels? Mr Wells here is bleeding rather badly."
Michaels opened his mouth to protest, but Cara cut him off. She could feel the unrest in the air.
"I'll go with you, Michaels. I need to find the Captain and tell him about..." She peetered off, unsure of how to continue. Michaels sour demeanor did not improve but he consented to let the young woman come with him.

Eyes followed them out as they left. Eyes of which not all were human.
A Non-Existent User

movement and noise.

and hunger.

bright, so very bright, and noisy, have to hide. one shouts; quiet now. smell blood, too bright, too many. two leave.


quiet now...


"I thought i saw something, that's all, probably just an angler"
"Come now Mr Wells, a man of your experience startled by an angler, i think not - keep still!- now what is going on?"
"Really, it's nothi-"
"Don't pretend, you're hiding something. Wouldn't be the first time either, would it Mr Wells?"
Jason sat quietly, if a little impatiently, whilst the doctor fussed over his arm. By this time, Michaels had returned with the medical kit, but without Cara. Presumably she had found the Captain, and was reporting this fiasco. A smile threatened to break out on Jason's face despite the situation. How could the Captain not know?

Jason gazed around the small, cramped room. Crew members were gathered in small groups, concern and worry, some curiosity written over their faces. A few words of their murmerings filtered back to him.

"...breakdown....failure....father like son...." Some of these words were accompanied by hostile glances. Most of the crew was unsettled by this break from routine, and they needed someone to pin their doubts and growing fears onto. And if the ships designer wasn't there to blame, then who better than his son.

Jason sighed and turned his eyes back to his arm. The doctor had removed the paper towels Cara had given to him, and was about to dab at the cut with a swab soaked in alcohol solution. Jason braced himself for the sting that was about to happen, but it still took him by suprise. Well, it'd hurt a hell of alot more if it got infected and my damn arm fell off..

The doctor, who hadn't even looked up at Jason's sharp inhalation, unwrapped a bandage from it's sterile packaging, and proceded to wrap it firmly around his arm.

"There. All finished Mr Wells. Now do try not to get into any more trouble. Oh, and come back to see me in three days please."

Jason nodded, not caring much for the young doctor's curt tone. His thoughts turned to what he saw outside the porthole. Had it been his imagination? Had Cara seen it? Was that thing the reason they'd stopped?

All at once, Jason resolved to go and find Cara, and together they'd get some answers. He'd be damned if he was going to sit in this room and suffer the hostile glares he was getting.

Damn you for putting me here Father... he thought as he stood and strode out the room.
The large electronic door to the bridge could only be manually opened from the inside. It felt strange to Cara having to knock for admittance, but anything was better than the cold, unfeeling coridoors of the Archaea, with its eyes-that-were-not-there watching her from every shadow.
A man with thick rimmed glasses opened the door, a stern expression on his stoic face.
"Cara Korelli; I'm the senior biologist on board. I need to speak with Adams." Cara said, with her tone verbally wedging her foot in the door.
"Captain Adams is unavailable. In case you haven't noticed, Miss Cara Korelli, we have an urgent situation here." The arrogant suit began to close the door in as much of a slamming motion as one could with a sliding, automated door. Cara placed slender fingers on the cold doorframe.
"With all due respect, sir," she assumed the man was her superior - there would be hell to pay otherwise, "the Captain really needs to hear what I have to say. We may have an equally serious situation developing amongst the crew, sir." She toyed between batting her eyelashes or giving him her most serious look, finally settling on the latter - the man looked as though he would not notice a flirtacious gesture if it put on lingerie and gave him a strip tease.
After much deliberation, the man finally admitted her, making her stand behind the door while he informed the captain. In some ways, it calmed her to see the workings of the bridge personel, however frantic. It made her feel safe. All the flashing lights, dials, sensors, men and women at desks. It was a world similar to her own and it felt...normal.
In seconds, Captain Adams was being led to her. He saluted - an ex-military man - and she uncomfortably returned it.

He was a stout man, with cropped hair and a weathered face. He had served as a military submarine commander for many years, winning much distiction in the field for his mastery of leadership and valourous action.
At the age of fourty-two, he was not old for a commander and the circumstances of his military retirement was clouded in doubt. The crew speculated, of course, but the truth was never disclosed. All they did know, was that he joined the crew late, immediately after his 'retirement'.

"What's going on Korelli? If you don't have anything useful to contribute, please don't waste my time."
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"Wells and I -" but she was drowned out by thundering cacophony as merciless claws scraped and scuttled against stainless steel overhead with ravenous hunger and the incessent burbling echoed throughout the room.
"Jesus Christ, it's in the air vents!" cried Adams

Back down the corridor, Jason closed the door to the mess, leaned against it and sighed.
"Wouldn't be the first time, would it, Mr Wells?" They knew. He'd tried so hard to keep it secret but they knew, but how? What else did they know? About Tom? They certainly knew he and Cara were not really together. What about the oth-?
His thoughts were broken off by that same thunderous scuttling that Cara was hearing just a stone-throw away. Then came the fumbling, screaming, scrambling from the other side of the door. He wrenched it open only to be hurled aside by the fleeing flood of fellow crewmen, desperate, terrified, trapped. When finally he could move again, Jason got up and peered inside.
A crewman lay sprawed in the far corner, ripped, mangled, broken. Jason couldn't tell who it was from the face. There was no face. Just a souless sack of meat and bone already decaying in the dingy mess hall of a broken down sub fifty thousand feet under the sea, all the life and light drained from him in the coldest, darkest place on Earth.
Jason stared, wide eyed, mouth caping. He trudged towards them, pale faced on legs that could barely hold him up as they quaked. Whatever had done this was nowhere to be seen; it must have left the way it had come. As he got half way between the caracass and the door he heard the burble-burble overhead and looked to the ceiling.

There were two of them.
Crimson against the pallid white - a red rose flourishing through snow. Chitinous spines on smooth, lithe body. Sensitive tendrils surrounding a toothey maw, as if an sea urchin had settled on its face. If you could call it a face. With no visible eyes or features of any kind, and no real neck, it was difficult to separate one aspect of its body from the other. These were creatures of nightmare - bloodstained bogeymen escaped from the mind of a maniac.

Jason felt the drip of human blood, still warm, patter onto his face from the mouthes of the creatures and the scream rose within him. Battering to the surface like water from a hose.
He could only assume that the things were looking at him. The way they contorted to face him, next to the open vent was chillingly unnatural. Their tendrils writhed like worms as they hung down, each independant of one another, like dogs sniffing the air.
The young marine biologist rapidly tried to reason with his conscious mind, to convince himself that what he was seeing was not real.
It can't be. C'mon Jason, you should know!
It was like time had slowed. These otherworldly creatures, stretching towards him. The blood-flecked tendrils like outstretched hands. They did not have gills, or any type of movement to suggest breathing. Just two compound bodies, with long, strong, spiked arms somehow clinging to the ceiling and a mouth full of teeth.
They're predators, but they're not fish, or mammals...or amphibians...what the hell are they?! With this realisation came another; that he was still standing and still screaming. Time had certainly not slowed.

Now he was close enough to see the shreds of flesh caught between the teeth. And now the tendrils were closing, a delicate drawing down of blinds...
Cara, Adams and another crewmember, entered the room where Jason and the creature stood staring at each other. Adams paid no attention to the creature but to the body on the floor, and began to yell about the creature killing off his crew. Cara, though she had noticed the body, paid more attention to Jason and the creature that was approaching him. She had never seen a creature such as this one its tendrils began to wrap around Jason’s body, and his face. She realized something had to be done before this thing killed her friend.

She looked around the room for something to grab. Her eyes fell upon an air tank which she grabbed and began to swing at the creature. She hit the creature twice and it let out a strange gurgling noise. Cara paid no attention and swung at the creature on Jason again only to realize to late the creature had slid off of him and laid unconscious at his feet. Jason, whose screams had fallen silent between the time the creature took hold of him and Cara hitting the creature, received the third hit. Jason fell back but was caught by the crewmember who had come along with Cara and Adams.

The crewman looked up at Cara and, as if trying to lighten to mood of the room he asked, “This is the second time today you have done something to hurt this guy. You holding a grudge against him?”

Cara ignored the statement as the crewmember left with Jason taking him back to see the doctor. Cara and Adams remained in the room.

Cara looked down at the creature. It was about the size of a TV though it had no distinct shape. It’s body was brown but its tendrils were a bright red. Besides these few details Cara had never seen a creature that looked quite like this.

“I think it is still alive, only unconscious.” Cara told Adams. “I want to get it into a secure environment where I can examine it.”
* * *

"We should destroy it right now!" said Adams, pacing back and forth in the small bio-lab.
"This could be the biggest discovery ever in marine biology - we can't just destroy it! Just look at it, sir, it defies all the laws we have for life in the deep layer!" The thing's almost amorphous body pulsated gently under the study light.
"Miss, with all due respect to your knowledge of the subject - I am the captain on this vessel. This creature has already killed one crewman and threatened the life of another - it simply cannot remain a threat. I want it exterminated. We have bigger problems on our hands." The man was obstinate and Cara's mental 'but!' never materialised.

They had rushed the creature to the lab - under extensive guard, of course - and placed it behind a makeshift container made from spare glass from the portholes. Exceptionally strong once they had welded the corners together, they were all contented in that the creature could not get out.
It looked very much like a large anenome with its large mouth exposed; the tendrils still twitched and flowed like grass in a gentle breeze. The thing's skin did not appear soft, however, rather hard and shiney, with numerous quills and boney spikes. It had Cara, Jason and indeed everyone completely stumped. Only one thing was certain, it was a predator. That was not the grisly maw of a humble vegetarian.
It was this fact that had the entire sub running amok. Everyone was stuggling the find weapons - what need was there for weapons at 50,000 feet? Only Adams and a handful of officers carried pistols, enviously eyed with each passing moment by the rest of the men.
Armed to the teeth with everything from chair legs to screwdrivers, the crew made a mottly bunch, watching and listening fearfully at the ducts for more of the creatures.

With all the commotion, finding the other creature (were there any more of them?!) filled everybodies mind completely. The lump-filled bag in the corner of the medical block was testiment to the creatures destructive capability and until there was no trace of them to be found, nobody would work alone to fix the technical faults.
Scared and confused, the crew were becoming unruley and, in some ways, uncontrollable. Adams had a monster chore on his hands...
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Jason moved over to take another look at the creature. By now he'd got over the initial shock of narrowly avoiding being ingested; he always had got over things quickly. he was trying to figure out how it had moved around the sub when essentially it was nothinbg more than a spiney sac of tentacled flesh. sure, the tentacles could prope it through the water but from the look of them they couldn't possibly be strong enough to support it in terrestrial locomotion. it twitched inside the tank.
He looked away for a second as someone passed, looked back, double-taked, stunned. legs. it was growing legs. long, spindly and soft, like those of a baby crab before its shell had hardened. even as he watched, incredulous and horrified, they changed from soft, spongey white to tan, to brown, to spiteful glistening black. He took a step back and noticed the slow rhythmic pulse of its hideous form. it was breathing now. somehow it had adapted perfectly, in the space of an hour, perhaps two, to this newfound "habitat". it twitched again.
A door opened and a man, broad with strong brown eyes overcome with fear and confusion, made his way over to where Adams stood with Cara.
"What is it, Mayler?"
"The other one, Sir, we saw it near the engine room" He was covered in a cold sweat and his voice cracked as he spoke. Cara could tell he was going to cry.
"Right, you three, Wells and Korelli with me," he point at a group of officers accross the room before placing his hands on Mayler's shoulders "You stay here." He made to leave.
"Sir?" Adams turned back "It got Humphreys, Sir." He stopped fighting the tears as he slid down against the wall and stayed huddled there, broken and afraid, a lost little boy so far from home as the cold creeps in on a dark winters night. He would still be there when Jason returned.

“Today at 9:40AM we lost contact with the Archaea crew. We still have track of where they are, but we do not know their status. We believe they have a power outage, which is no big thing. The crew knows how to get the power back up and running, but it will take a while. There is no reason for worry at this moment.” George Wells stood in front of a room of several reporters giving them an update of the crisis in hand.

“Mr. Wells? Mr. Wells, is it true your own son is onboard the Archaea?” a reporter asked.

He nodded his head, “Yes, so if I am not worried, neither should anyone else.”

He walked out of the room before more questions could be asked. The truth was, George Wells was very worried. This was an advance piece of technology; the power should not have gone out. He walked into the control room, “Status update?”

“We have yet made contact with them.” A guy nearby, Jonathan Prims, said. “Look George, it’s not your fault, problems happen. Now I know you are worried about Jason, but he’s a big boy and can take care of himself. It might be best he is there, he is your son, perhaps he can help fix the problem.”

George shook his head, “He had no interest in the sub. I tried to teach him and make him have a love for it, but he never did. We had a fight before he went down there, now I might not see him again.”

Prims shook his head, “George, you might have pressured him to go but it was his choice. Now I know that we have lost contact with them but they aren’t dead. They are alive, there is enough oxygen and their food supply should last them a few months.” Jonathan walked over to George, “Beating yourself up isn’t helping anyone. All we can do right now is sit and wait.”


As Cara, Jason, Adams and the group of officers made their way towards the engine room Jason spoke the words no one else was willing to speak, “Catching that thing was pure luck. It has changed, adapted in less than an hour. How will we catch this one?”

Cara looked at Jason and shrugged, “Luck?”

© Copyright 2009 Flaw, xx-xx, Barbara Alive, Zee, (known as GROUP).
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