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"Only one mount and a frame brace to go," Giordino informed them. "Be prepared to tear loose."
"I read you," replied Pitt. "Standing by to close down all power and electrical systems."
Sandecker found it insufferable that he could plainly see the faces of the men across the thin gap separating the two vehicles and know there was every likelihood they might die. "How's your current air supply?" he asked anxiously.
Pitt checked the monitor. "Enough to get us home if we don't stop for pizza."
There came a screech that set teeth on edge as the control compartment shuddered and tilted upward, nose first. Something gave then, and suddenly the structure acted as if it wanted to break free. Pitt quickly shut off the main generator power and switched over to the emergency batteries to keep the computer and speaker phone operating. But all movement abruptly stopped, and they hung frozen above the tractor's huge frame.
"Hold on," came Giordino's reassuring voice. "I missed some hydraulic lines." Then he added, "I'll try to stay close if I can, but should we spread too far apart, the phone cable will snap and we'll lose voice contact."
"Make it quick. Water is gushing in through some of the severed lines and connections."
"Acknowledged."
"See to it you open your exit door and get the hell out fast when you hit the waves," Sandecker ordered.
"Like geese with diarrhea," Pitt assured him.
Pitt and Plunkett relaxed for a few seconds, listening to the sound of the cutting discs chewing through the tubing. Then came a heavy lurch followed by a ripping noise, and they began slowly rising from the top of the seamount, leaving the tractor chassis with Big John's torn cables and melted debris dangling behind them like mechanical entrails.
"On our way!" Plunkett roared.
Pitt's mouth tightened. "Too slow. The incoming water has lowered our positive buoyancy."
"You're in for a long haul," said Giordino. "I judge your rate of ascent at only ten meters a minute."
"We're lugging the engine, reactor, and a ton of water with us. Our volume barely overcomes the excess weight."
"You should rise a little faster as you near the surface."
"No good. The water intake will offset the decrease in pressure."
"No worry over losing the communication cable," Giordino said happily. "I can easily match your ascent rate."
"Small consolation," Pitt muttered under his breath.
"Twenty meters up," said Plunkett.
"Twenty meters," Pitt echoed.
Both pairs of eyes locked on the depth reading that flashed on the display screen. Neither man spoke as the minutes crawled past. The twilight world was left behind and the indigo-blue of deep water paled slightly from the approaching filtered light from above. The color green made its first appearance, and then yellow. A small school of tuna greeted them before flashing away. At 150 meters Pitt could begin to make out the dial on his wristwatch.
"You're slowing," Giordino warned them. "Your rate of ascent has dropped to seven meters a minute."
Pitt punched in the water leakage numbers. He didn't like what he read. "Our flood level is redlined."
"Can you increase your air volume?" asked Sandecker, concern obvious in his voice.
"Not without a fatal dose of the bends."
"You'll make it," Giordino said hopefully. "You're past the eighty-meter mark."
"When our ascent drops to four meters, grab on with your hand assembly and tow us."
"Will do."
Giordino moved ahead and angled his vessel until the stern was pointing toward the surface and he was looking down on Pitt and Plunkett. Then he set his autopilot to maintain a reverse speed to maintain the same ascent speed as Big John's housing. But before he could extend the robotic arm, he saw that the DSMV was falling back and the gap was increasing. He quickly compensated and closed the distance.
