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"And English at that," added Salazar.
Pitt gestured at Giordino. "Mr. Albert Giordino, chief mover and doer around here. He'll be glad to conduct a grand tour, assign quarters, and help you with any needs in the way of clothing, toothbrushes, and whatever."
Introductions and handshakes were traded across the table. Giordino ordered up a round of coffee, and the three visitors from Old Gert finally began to relax.
"I speak for all of us," said Plunkett sincerely, "when I say, thank you for saving our lives."
"Al and I are only too happy we reached you in time."
"Your accent tells me you're American," said Stacy.
Pitt locked onto her eyes and gave her a devastating stare. "Yes, we're all from the States."
Stacy seemed to fear Pitt, as a deer fears a mountain lion, yet she was oddly attracted to him. "You're the man I saw in the strange submersible before I passed out."
"A DSMV," Pitt corrected her. "Stands for Deep Sea Mining Vehicle. Everyone calls it Big John. Its purpose is to excavate geological samples from the seabed."
"This is an American mining venture?" asked Plunkett incredulously.
Pitt nodded. "A highly classified suboceanic test mining and survey project, financed by the United States government. Eight years from the initial design through construction to start-up."
"What do you call it?"
"There's a fancy code word, but we affectionately refer to the place as `Soggy Acres.' "
"How can it be kept a secret?" asked Salazar. "You must have a support fleet on the surface that can be easily detected by passing vessels or satellites."
"Our little habitat is fully self-sustaining. A hightech life-support system that draws oxygen from the sea and enables us to work under pressure equal to the air at sea level, a desalination unit for fresh drinking water, heat from hydrothermal vents on the seafloor, some food from mussels, clams, shrimp, and crabs that surv
ive around the vents, and we bathe under ultraviolet light and antiseptic showers to prevent bacteria growth. What supplies or equipment replacement parts we can't provide on our own are dropped into the sea from the air and retrieved underwater. If it becomes necessary to transfer personnel, one of our submersibles rises to the surface where it is met by a jet-powered flying boat."
Plunkett simply nodded. He was a man living a dream.
"You must have a unique method of communicating with the outside world," said Salazar.
"A surface relay buoy tethered by cable. We transmit and receive via satellite. Nothing fancy but most efficient."
"How long have you been down here?"
"We haven't seen the sun in a little over four months."
Plunkett stared into his coffee cup in wonder. "I had no idea your technology had developed to where you can tackle a research station this deep."
"You might say we're a pioneer expedition," said Pitt proudly. "We have several projects going at the same time. Besides testing equipment, our engineers and scientists analyze the sea life, geology, and minerals on the seabed and file computerized reports of their findings. Actual dredging and mining operations come in future stages."
"How many people in your crew?"
Pitt took a swallow of coffee before answering. "Not many. Twelve men and two women."
"I see your women have traditional duties," Stacy said sourly, nodding at a pretty redheaded lady in her late twenties who was dicing vegetables in the galley.
"Sarah volunteered. She also oversees our computer records, working two jobs, as do most of us."
"I suppose the other woman doubles as your maid and equipment mechanic."
"You're close," Pitt said, giving her a caustic smile. "Jill really does help out as a marine equipment engineer. She's also our resident biologist. And if I were you, I wouldn't lecture her on female rights on the bottom of the sea. She took first in a Miss Colorado bodybuilding competition and can bench press two hundred pounds."
Salazar pushed his chair from the table and stretched out his feet. "I'll wager your military is involved with the project."
