The rest of the morning went quietly, with the crew going about their normal routines. Theresa was working with Ted in the lab, examining the DNA and cell mutations in the bacteria strains they were studying. By far the most interesting part of their work were the live cells that were replicating and mutating before their very eyes. The Deinococcus radiodurans they were examining looked nothing like the samples they had first examined. It was beyond mutation—it was a new bacteria altogether. What was most amazing was the way the bacterium acted when combined as compared to when examined singly. As soon as multiple cells were combined, they immediately began acting as one larger organism. It was like the coral analogy Ted had used before—a colony of individual polyps that, when viewed externally, looked like a single animal.
Mike had managed to catch a giant isopod, Bathynomus giganteus, which was more bug than fish. At almost a foot and a half long, it resembled a pale lilac pill bug from under a rotten log. Its armor-plated body was armadillo-like, and it rolled itself up when Mike prodded it. With seven pairs of legs and four sets of jaws, it was a formidable-looking creature, although harmless to humans. It was so bizarre-looking that Ted and Theresa had both taken turns holding it and examining it themselves (after Mike identified it as being a harmless scavenger). Each of them posed for photos with their new friend. Mike decided it was their new mascot and placed it in a small tank of seawater on his desk. He decided it was too cool to dissect and would instead bring it alive to the surface for a new life in some aquarium. The strange creature walked around on the bottom of the tank, antennas waving and feeling around for food in its new home. Its large compound eyes gave it a somewhat comical, cartoonlike look.
“I bet it tastes like lobster,” said Theresa with her bright smile. “You should cook that thing.”
“You gonna eat it?” asked Mike.
“Hell no!” she squealed, and they enjoyed a quick laugh together.
“He needs a name,” said Mike.
“You sure he’s a he?”
Mike stared closer at the isopod. “Definitely. I can tell by his attitude. I bet he’s from Jersey.”
“That’s it,” said Theresa. “Jersey. That’s his name.”
Mike nodded with his bottom lip sticking out in great thought. “I like it. Done.”
Tony’s voice over the all-call system grabbed everyone’s attention. “Attention on deck! We have a very large sonar contact inbound! Everyone to the bridge!”
The three of them looked at each other for a second, then stopped what they were doing and ran to the stairs. By the time they arrived on the bridge, Jim, Jess, and Tony were already standing by their largest monitor, trying to track whatever was causing alarms to sound on their sonar screen. The MC’s soothing female voice would occasionally repeat its warning: “Large sonar contact at eighteen thousand feet and descending. Tracking toward this location . . .”
“What is it, Skipper?” asked Mike as they ran into the bridge.
“We’re not sure. Sinking ship, whale—something big whatever it is,” he said. He was sweating profusely, which made Mike and Theresa look at each other with nervous expressions. “Gonna hit us?” asked Mike.
“Not sure yet.”
“Skipper, I got it!” called out Tony as his fingers flew over his keyboard. He had managed to lock his cameras on the object, which was still too far away to see as anything other than a black dot in the green background of the night-vision camera. They all stood in silence as the object grew larger.
“Large sonar contact at eighteen thousand five hundred feet and descending. Tracking toward this location . . .”
“What the hell is it?” asked Tony to no one in particular.
They all stood quietly for the next few minutes, with only the MC’s voice breaking the silence. When the MC announced it was at nineteen thousand feet, the object began to become clearer.
“It’s a whale carcass!” said Tony as he watched the lifeless behemoth gliding toward them.
Mike beamed and grabbed Theresa. “A whale fall!” he shouted.
Jim looked at him in surprise. “This thing could land right on top of us, and you’re happy about it?”
“C’mon, Skipper. The odds of this landing on top of us are a million to one. But if it lands close, it’ll be an opportunity to study a whale fall for the rest of the mission!”
“Large sonar contact at twenty thousand feet and descending. Tracking toward this location...”
“A whale fall? Like—a falling whale?” asked Jim.
“When a whale dies in deep water, it sinks to the bottom. So yeah, a falling whale. A whale carcass at thirty-four degrees can last for years and will feed creatures from miles around. It creates an artificial reef, for lack of a better analogy. This place will be teeming with new life in a few months—a whole new ecosystem! We’ll be able to photograph and videotape the whole evolution of the process!”
“If it doesn’t crush us all to death,” said Tony.
“Large sonar contact at twenty-one thousand three hundred feet, tracking north of present location . . .”
“I told you we’d be fine,” said Mike nervously.
“Jesus Christ that was close,” said Tony quietly.
“You know what they say: Odds are . . .” said Mike with a forced smile.
Theresa smacked Mike on the back of his shoulder. “A whale fall! We’re the only ones on this planet who have ever witnessed this from the beginning! This is amazing!”
Ted made a blasé face. More “fish”—he was unimpressed. “I’m going back to work now that I know I’ll live another day,” he said and left the bridge.
Jessica looked at Jim. “You okay, Commander?”
Jim faked a smile. He stood up and walked out of the bridge, motioning her to follow him. Once outside, he whispered to her, “I think I’m coming down with something.” He took another step and fell flat on his face.
Jessica screamed at the top of her lungs. “Tony! Help!”
Ted could hear her screaming from the bottom of the stairwell near the lab. He smiled and kept walking.
Tony, Mike, and Theresa ran out of the bridge and found Jess kneeling over the skipper, whom she had rolled over onto his back. His face was white and slick with perspiration, his eyes closed and fluttering in his head. She looked up at them as they approached. “He’s burning up! We need to get him to sickbay!” Then she put her hands up. “Wait!” No one touches him without hazmat suits. Tony! Run to sickbay! Oh my God, not Jim, too.”
Tony sprinted off to sickbay as Mike and Theresa stood over Jessica helplessly. Within a couple of minutes, Tony was back with the bagged suits. He threw them to the others and they each put on the protective gear, then Tony and Mike picked up the skipper in a fireman’s carry and rushed him to sickbay. Jessica spoke to Jim in a soothing voice as they hustled down the hall. “Can you hear me, Jim? We have you. You’re gonna be fine. Just relax, you’re doing great...”
Jim’s head rolled around on his shoulders and he began foaming at the mouth, his tongue swollen and protruding.
“I think he’s having a seizure,” said Mike.
Jess fought back tears and shook her head no. “This is exactly what Ian looked like,” she said quietly.