"How about a sneezing seagull?"
"Look at it this way. Where would you rather be, behind your desk at NUMA or a place like this, where you've got a great ocean view?"
"I'd like to be behind the wheel of my Corvette with a view of a lovely blonde."
"I'll take that as a yes," Austin said. "I think I see a way in."
Despite their playful badinage, both men were well aware of the chance they would take going belowdecks. But Zavala trusted Austin's judgment and instincts implicitly, and would have followed him into the gates of hell without hesitation. Austin made his way to a deck hatch, about three feet square, that his sharp eyes had picked out.
He unlatched the cover, braced his feet and pulled back. The cover banged against its hinges, and a foul exhalation flowed from the opening and rocked them back on their heels. Austin undid the halogen flashlight clipped to his belt and pointed it into the opening. The intense beam reflected off the rungs of a metal ladder.
They slipped off their flotation vests. The vests would only get in the way, and would be useless if the ship rolled over while they were belowdecks. Austin was the first down the ladder, which was sharply angled because of the ship's list. He descended twenty feet and felt a solid surface under his feet. The deck slanted sharply, and he held on to the ladder to steady himself.
Zavala was right behind him. He glanced around and said, "It looks like a fun house."
"Let's go have some fun," Austin said.
Bracing himself against the lower wall, he made his way along a narrow passageway. After walking for about fifty feet, they came to a stairwell leading below. The prospect of descending deeper into the stricken ship was not an appetizing one, especially when they felt the deck list another few degrees. Both men knew that if the vessel capsized, they were dead. There would be no time to get out. But Austin was determined to pry out the secrets the ship held.
"Feeling lucky today?" he said, his voice echoing off the walls of the passageway.
Zavala smiled. "We just tangled with a giant whirlpool and won. I'm betting our luck is still holding."
The stairs led down to another deck that was identical to the first. The passageway ended not in a stairwell but in an unlocked door, which they opened. As they stepped through the doorway, their noses told them there had been a change in their surroundings. Instead of the briny odor that had pervaded the passageways, the air had an electrical smell to it, as if they had stepped into a Radio Shack.
Austin played the light around. They were standing on a balcony that overlooked a huge, central hold. The space contained four massive, cylindrical objects set in a line.
"Looks like the electrical generating plant inside Hoover Dam," Austin said.
"There's enough power here for a small city."
"Or a big spark plug," Austin said, thinking about the ruined coil they had seen on the deck. He pointed the light upward. Dozens of thick electrical cables snaked down from the ceiling and ran to the generators.
Creak.
The deck beneath their feet tilted at a sharper angle.
"I think that seagull you were worried about must have landed," Austin said.
Zavala glanced upward. "Let's hope he doesn't have a cold."
Austin was intrepid but not foolish. They retraced their steps through the door, up the stairs and along the passageway, until they were out in the open once more. The fresh air felt good after the claustrophobic darkness inside the ship. The vessel was definitely more tilted than it had been. Austin still wasn't satisfied. There was no foundation for a superstructure, but there had to be a control room. While Zavala called the Throckmorton with an update on their status, Austin made his way along the cockeyed deck toward the stern.
He came across several more hatchways that provided access into the ship. He figured that any one of them would be a crapshoot, and that he would have to be very lucky to choose the right one. Then he found what he was looking for. Near a hatchway set into the middle of the deck at the aft end of the ship were some round insulators. He guessed that they might have been the bases for radio antennae blasted off in the whirlpool. He opened the hatch, and motioned for Zavala to follow him down the ladder.
As before, the ladder led to a deck and a passageway, but the corridor was only about ten feet long, and it ended in a door. They opened the door and stepped inside.
"I think we just found the crew," Zavala said.
There were six decomposed corpses in the control room. They were piled in the lower end of the room. Austin was reluctant to violate the crew's tomb, but he knew it was important to learn as much about the ship as possible. With Zavala a step behind, Austin entered the room and glanced at the large control panel. With dozens of gauges and switches, it was far more complicated than any he had ever seen. He made an educated guess that the dynamos belowdecks were controlled from this compact space. He was examining the controls when the ship suddenly creaked, then seemed to moan.
Zavala said, "Kurt!"
Austin knew that if they stayed with the crew a second longer they would be joining the bloated corpses.
"I think we're done here." He pointed to the door.
With Zavala leading, they pounded down the corridor and practically vaulted up the ladder onto the deck and into the sunlight.