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She scowled back at him.
There wereplentyof reasons.
First and foremost, this vehicle was her design. She would allow no one else to pilot it on its first true mission. She had spent most of her career—except for a brief stint as a navigator aboard an aircraft carrier—in research and development. She knew intellectual prowess alone would not gain her the rank of admiral. She needed to hone her combat credentials, to whet her sword with the blood of China’s enemies.
Plus, her goal in these seas was to show proof-of-concept for all her autonomous designs. By leaving control of the surface to the militarized clone of her AI-driven ship, it showed her level of confidence in her work. If the systems required supervision and babysitting, what would be the point of her design?
Diving in theQianliyanfurther emphasized her self-assurance. It demonstrated that she was willing to put her life behind her research.
Still, there remained a final reason.
Before leaving Cambodia, she had been given orders to destroy the wreckage of theChangzheng 24. They dared not leave anything behind for a foreign power to salvage and gain knowledge of their naval advancements.
But more importantly, Choi Aigua had wanted to repeat his prior experiment. Upon Tse’s word, he would send another ELF pulse to this trench—as proof-of-concept for his own endeavor. It could be the first step in the advent of a new weapons system, one that could shake the foundations of the world.
To that end, someone needed to observe the effect down there—and survive it.
TheQianliyanwas both smaller and more heavily shielded than the submarine that sank. It was a fortress built to withstand extreme pressures. Even its electronics were locked in a Faraday cage to protect against any EM blast. She felt confident theQianliyancould be safely present to witness Aigua’s repeat firing of the ELF signal.
Her act in doing so, especially if such a formidable weapon could be secured, would assure her position as a future admiral of the Chinese fleet.
But before all that, she had another objective to address first: to destroy the other deep-sea submersible. It was unarmed and unaware. TheQianliyanwas far heavier, especially with its load of torpedoes. It would make the descent in half the time. She planned to quickly dive into the trench, hunt the other submersible down, and destroy it, adding more blood to her sword.
Satisfied with her plan, she radioed for theQianliyanto be lowered into the sea. She then turned her hard gaze upon Lieutenant Yang and finally answered his question.
“This ismymission,” she declared emphatically. “I will allow no one to cast a shadow over my glory.”
33
January 24, 9:32A.M.WITA
Thirty miles off the coast of Bali
Four hours after leaving the Jakarta History Museum, Gray stood at the bow of a fast-interceptor boat as it raced away from the Bali coastline. Seichan kept next to him. For the moment, they had this spot to themselves.
“I don’t trust any of them,” she said, glowering past her shoulder to the pilothouse.
“We don’t have much choice in the matter.”
A loud boom emphasized this.
Behind them, a peak atop the island of Bali—Mount Batar—fountained fire into the sky. Ahead, the dark seas rolled under black clouds, chained through with lightning. Their boat skimmed at sixty miles an hour across waters choked with ash. Floating rocks of pumice rattled off the fiberglass hull. The breeze smelled of sulfur from the eruptions and woodsmoke from the burning forests.
Earlier, with time running out, their group had to risk flying through the ash-choked skies. Their small transport—a Chinese Harbin Y-12 turboprop—was the same aircraft that Major Xue’s forces had flown aboard to reach Jakarta. The plane had taken off from a deserted airstrip and hopped over to the city of Denpasar in neighboring Bali.
While flying here, they had all borne silent witness to the destruction below them. Mountain after mountain had gushed with smoke, adding weight to the skies. Around them, huge bombs burst from flaming calderas. Rivers of lava circumscribed the landscape. Where those fiery streams flowed into the sea, the water boiled up into wide chimneys of steam. The flight had been turbulent. The aircraft’s twin props hummed raggedly through the falling ash. By the time they reached Bali, the engines had started faltering. Their descent to the dark airport had been more of a freefall than a controlled approach.
The island city had fared worse. It lay in flames, bombarded by fiery rocks from the eruption of Mount Batar. The forests along the peak’s flanks had been set afire by pyroclastic flows. The only saving grace was that the city’s bay was well protected and had been sheltered from the worst of the tsunamis. Once there, bribes and threats had gained them possession of the marine interceptor. The boat was a patrol craft used to fight pirates and intercede in drug smuggling. It was now their means of transportation to the seas mentioned in Stoepker’s account, where theTenebraehad sunk two centuries before.
Still, by the time they boarded the boat, they had all recognized the importance—and likely futility—of their efforts. But there was nothing else to do but try.
Gray checked his watch. It would still take them another forty minutes to reach those waters. “Let’s head below,” he said. “There are some final details I’d like to settle.”
Seichan stopped him with a hand on his arm. He turned and saw the worry in her eyes. He pulled her closer. He tried to squeeze with as much reassurance as he could. She seldom showed any hesitation or apprehension. Those stoic walls rarely lowered. It was an aloofness born of necessity, instilled into her after decades of hardship and brutality.
“We’ll get back home,” he promised her. “We still have Jack’s true birthday to celebrate.”
He felt her smile more than saw it. She relaxed just a fraction. “That’s today,” she mumbled. “I had nearly forgotten.”
