going to turn nasty during the night—they were experiencing the proverbial calm before the storm—so they'd decided to end the expedition early and head for the port of Yokohama. With luck, the sulphide-oxidizing extremophiles they sought for further experimentation would be hiding among the specimens brought to the surface. No, damn the luck! “Luck's for schmucks,” Tanaka slurred aloud, directing his comment at a winch. He and the professor had made their own good luck, and it had paid off in spades.
The celebration in the mess was still going strong, the music leaking through the metal and glass superstructure and up on to the stern deck. Eminem and 50 Cent were getting a rest. The Rolling Stones song “Sympathy for the Devil” played. One of the older members of the crew must be DJ-ing, Tanaka decided. There was a sudden short spike in the music volume, signifying that a hatch had opened and closed. Someone else had left the party to get some air. Tanaka peered drunkenly into the moonlight. The ship was illuminated by two large spotlights perched high on the crane's cross member, but the light was hard and stark and heavy black shadows thrown by a multitude of gear lay across the decks. “Hello,” Tanaka called, but got no answer. He shrugged. Leaning on the railing, he looked out across the polished obsidian sea, his head spinning a little, his mouth sour.
Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted from the waist. Before he could struggle, he was thrown over the railing. The world spun and a cry escaped his throat before he hit the water and plunged below the surface. The shock of the cold seawater made him gag. He broke the surface spluttering, choking, instantly sober. “Hey, what the fuck?” he shouted, the saltwater searing his throat. “Hey!” The Natusima's black hull reared up beside him, an unscaleable face. He slapped the steel slab with his open hand. “Hey!” There was no reply, although he thought he heard something. Was it a cough? There was a mechanical sound to it. “Hey! Someone there?” There was no repeat of the sound, just the distant beat of music coming from deep within the ship. He dashed the water's surface with his arms in frustration and anger, and kicked off his sneakers so that he could swim better. Phosphorescence swirled around him. “Who the fuck threw me in?” he screamed, the chill of the water like sandpaper rubbing against his skin. No answer. “Hey!” Tanaka's voice echoed back at him, bouncing off the cold steel hull. “Jesus…” he said in frustration, treading water. He peered up into the alternating dazzle and darkness of the ship and thought he saw the silhouette of a man's head and shoulders up behind the railing. “Hey, you!” he shouted. No response. Someone had thrown him in, right? Was it that shadow up there?
Tanaka's heart rate was up, mainly because of the shock of close-to-freezing water, but also because he realized getting back up onto the ship wasn't going to be easy if he couldn't attract someone's attention. He could be stuck out here, but not for long. The cold would soon cramp his muscles and then he'd drown. He knew he had around three minutes, max, before his muscles stopped working and he sank beneath the water. There was no convenient ladder anywhere on the hull—it wasn't that kind of dive vessel. His jeans and sweatshirt were weighing him down, making swimming difficult. He stripped down to his underwear, and noted that the phosphorescence illuminated his legs, accentuating their whiteness. He felt naked, exposed, freezing. His skin was already numb. The realization that there were nearly 30,000 feet of water beneath his feet added to his feeling of exposure. Nearby, he heard the vibration of a thruster automatically keeping the Natusima in position. The ship must be starting to drift, he thought. It turned slowly on its axis, as if moved by a giant and invisible hand, its stern swinging toward him. He swam away to prevent being struck by the hull.
“Hey!” he called out again. “Anybody…!”
The lights on top of the crane that launched and retrieved the Shinkai also lit the water behind the stern. Tanaka swam into the light. He'd be seen for sure now. He yelled out several more times and loaded on the expletives as his frustration grew.
Suddenly Dr. Tanaka felt the pressure wave behind him. And then he swirled into an eddy, which spun him around a couple of