“Body coordination. Multi-tasking. Mechanical and fine motor control. Spatial awareness.”
“Nine years of taekwondo?”
“Heh.” Brent nodded thoughtfully. “Nowthatis helpful. Limited, but meaningful. Good sense of balance? Composed under pressure? Mental clarity? Breath control? Fast reactions?”
“Those I can say ‘yes’ to.”
“Great.” He cracked his knuckles. “Then you just tripled your survival chance—to about three percent.”
*
Cally sat in the back of the SUV as they drove to Menauhant Yacht Club behind the semi-truck, focusing on every word Brent said.
“Thrusters are directional. Always use small bursts. You’re not a dolphin, you’re a fridge with jets. Nudge them, like waking a cat that might have a grenade.”
“A fridge piloted by a grouchy grenade-wielding cat. Got it.”
Brent raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking this seriously, right?”
“Deadly.”
“Because that’s what it’ll be if you don’t.”
“It was your metaphor. At least I won’t forget.”
Noah chuckled from the driver’s seat.
Brent paused for a moment, then continued. “Fine, no metaphors. An ADS is a one-atmosphere suit, and as deep as we’ll be, outside it’ll be thirty times that. If you breach it, the good news is you’ll be dead before you know it.”
“Still taking it seriously.”
He nodded. “So you’re in a pressure tank with limbs. You move the arms and legs manually with a joystick and foot pedals. I’ll show you when we’re on the boat. It’s not intuitive, and it’snot graceful, but your coordination might just come in useful there.”
“Anything else?”
“Loads, but the rest can wait until I can show you.” He shook his head. “You still sure you want to do this? One of the other thralls may have more relevant prior experience.”
“None of the other thralls can get you to Antoine.”
“Oh? And how can you?”
“That’s a need-to-know,” Noah interjected. “Just accept she can.”
“I do need to know,” Brent argued. “An ADS doesn’t have a radar. It’s not search-and-rescue. It’s designed for repair and manipulation. We’re looking for one man on the ocean floor, right? We don’t have sonar drones or submersibles.” He leaned back in his seat and blew out a breath. “Shit, this is doomed to fail.”
“I’m bonded to him,” Cally said quietly.
“I get it, I really do. I’m bonded to Gabe. I feel your pain.”
“No, I mean I can sense him. The bond is two-way.”
Brent blinked rapidly. “Two-way?”
Noah twisted around enough to make eye contact. “You tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”
“My lips are sealed,” Brent said. He looked at Cally with undisguised curiosity. “So you’re a walking direction finder, huh? Yeah, that could work.”
“Are we up to five percent survival yet?”
