Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [127]
But the diver himself was still alive, protected by the suit’s rigid shell. The collision shook him loose from the bumper, leaving him floating as the sub slowly bounced backwards. He raised the gun again—
Eddie lunged over Matt’s shoulder and slammed the controls sideways with one hand – and shoved the throttles to full with the other.
The thrusters pivoted in response, the Sharkdozer spinning on the spot. The vulnerable viewport swung away from the diver – and the damaged starboard thruster pod came at him. The exposed screw blades sliced through the water in a vortex of froth—
The submersible juddered, the motor’s whine replaced by a meaty thunk-thunk-thunk before the thruster cut out, clogged. Another red light joined the many already on the instrument panel. Outside, the water also took on a distinctly crimson tint. The rifle slowly spun past, part of a gloved hand still clutching its grip.
‘He’s definitely screwed,’ said Eddie, breathing heavily.
Nina watched the gun land before focusing on something much closer: the damaged viewport. The crash had extended more of the cracks. ‘Matt, how long before this thing breaks?’
‘No way to know,’ Matt admitted, backing the sub away from the expanding red haze. ‘It might last hours – or it could go in two seconds.’
Eddie counted to two under his breath. ‘Well, we got past that, so let’s hope it lasts for hours, eh?’
‘We’re still fucked even if it holds! We’ve only got one working thruster, so it’ll take even longer to get to the surface, and in about five minutes the air’s going to start going bad.’
‘How long can we last?’ Nina asked.
‘Three of us, in a compartment this size? Maybe ten minutes before we pass out, fifteen at most. Twenty minutes, tops, we’ll be dead from carbon dioxide poisoning.’
Eddie pursed his lips. ‘No way we can fix the air system?’
‘Not from inside.’ Matt slumped in his seat. ‘I don’t want to be the one who has to say this, but . . . we’re dead.’
‘What about the other sub?’ said Nina. The Mako’s lights were still shining brightly. ‘Is there any way we can dock with it?’
The Australian pondered the question, then faint hope entered his voice. ‘It’s got a standard docking connector, so yeah . . . but we’d have to get it out from under that girder first.’
Eddie returned to the arm controls. ‘We got enough power to move it?’
‘Have to chance it.’
Matt was about to guide the Sharkdozer towards the pinned sub when Eddie told him to wait. ‘Just let me get something first . . .’ He worked the remaining arm, extending the undamaged secondary manipulator. ‘Take us down, over there. I’m going to pick up the gun.’
‘What for?’ asked his wife.
Eddie nodded at the other submersible. The pilot was visible through its windows, still unconscious. ‘Just in case we get aboard and he wakes up.’ He lowered the arm to the seabed. It took him several attempts, but the steel digits eventually gripped the weapon. ‘Okay, got it.’ He shook off the dead hand, then moved the manipulator above the Sharkdozer and dropped the ASM-DT on to its top hatch with a clank.
Matt brought his injured vessel about and headed for the Mako. For the first time, they got a proper look at their opponent. While designed as a pleasure craft, able to take passengers down to a thousand feet below the surface, this one had been modified for a more aggressive purpose. A rack had been crudely welded to its flank to hold torpedoes, one of which was still in place.
‘Bit of a botch-job,’ said Matt, scrutinising the weapon with his engineer’s eye. The torpedo was the underwater equivalent of an improvised explosive device, a length of metal pipe propelled by compressed air. A package of explosives with a simple impact detonator was crammed inside.
‘They work well enough,’ said Nina, remembering the fate of Hayter’s sub.
‘Yeah. Looks like it was put together in a hurry, though.’
‘To kill us,’ Eddie said. ‘Or Nina, specifically. It’s this bloke Glas, it’s