From the Deep Read Free Page B

although I would have expected them to throw a distress signal out too.”
    “What do you think it might be?”
    “If you shut up and let me get to the survivors, you can ask them yourself.”
     

     
    Two slow hours passed in the rubber lifeboat. Rainwater looked at Mackay, who was sitting with his chin on his chest. He hadn’t spoken for some time, and the bloody wound on his face had dried into a matted crust. Rainwater wanted to close his eyes, if only for a moment to take away some of the agony that had invaded his body. He was numb, his lips trembling as the boat was pushed wherever the tides chose to send it. He had activated the survival suit’s transponder, which would give their location to any ships that came close enough.  Now, all he wanted was to sleep, to close his eyes for a moment and rest.
    He forced himself to focus, to pick a spot and stare at it. He chose his right foot, trying not to look beyond it at the dizzying, vertigo inducing motion of the lifeboat. His thoughts tried as best they could to wade through the thick soup that had invaded his brain. In his mind’s eye, he could see the immense wake and the grey-green back of whatever had ploughed into them.  He had seen something that defied belief, and knew now that the seas were no place for man. He lapsed into unconsciousness moments before the searchlights of the Neptune illuminated the life raft.

 
    CHAPTER 4
     
    Unnamed government facility
    Washington D.C.
     
     
    Andrews walked through the corridors of the vast grey building that officially didn’t exist. It had no address, no registered owner, and no official title. A modest two stories high at street level, it also extended deep below the surface, acting as one of several secret locations designed to hold the president and his cabinet in case of emergency. He approached the unmarked elevator, giving a cursory glance to the multitude of security cameras that watched his every move. Shuffling his mountain of folders into one arm, he swiped his ID card through the reader at its side and placed his hand on the discreet panel beneath. Reading his palm print, the system opened the elevator doors and allowed him access. He waited as the doors closed and carried him to his destination eight floors below.
    This meeting was a make or break. He was sure he had enough supporting evidence to convince his superiors. Despite the public opinion about alien conspiracies and knowledge of the existence of E.T., the actual and infinitely less interesting fact was that the government didn’t believe in such things and were a stuffy, hard to convince bunch who cared only about politics, wars, and money.
    The doors hissed open and Andrews was stopped at a security station where he was frisked for anything that could be construed as a dangerous weapon. Passing the checks, he was handed back his folders and allowed to proceed. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he took a deep breath and entered the meeting room, striding purposefully to the front. He set his double arm full of paperwork on the desk, and then paused, looking at the four men who were watching him with cold indifference.
    “Gentlemen, my name is Doctor Martin Andrews, and I’m here today to talk to you about the situation to which by now, you all have been briefed, at least in a preliminary fashion.”
    The men looked back impassively.
    Tough crowd , he thought to himself as he went on.
    “Back in 1997, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration detected an underwater signal, which was unlike anything ever recorded before. The signal was picked up by an array of deep water hydrophones designed primarily to monitor seismic activity. We dubbed it, The Bloop.”
    “What’s so unusual about it?” asked a white haired, grey-eyed general, who was both cold and unreadable.
    “Our analysis, which was concurrent with NOAA’s own research, showed that the sound was thought to be organic in nature.”
    “Surely that’s nothing