Sunrise Destiny

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 

In a major surprise to me, I woke up. Or, at least that was my best guess. When the water closed over me, I thought for sure I was crab food. Instead, I awoke to find myself enveloped by a soft ruby glow. My first thought was that I'd been swallowed whole by a whale. It didn't take long to dispel that notion.

I lay on a padded surface. I wouldn't call it a bed—it was more like a low table—but it was soft. My clothes were damp, not soaked. I must have been out for hours.

I sat up. The room was small, dark but for the glow, and vaguely egg-shaped—wider and less rounded at one end than the other. I reached out to touch the wall to my right. It was...spongy was the best word I could come up with. It was solid, but gave slightly to firm pressure.

Was there a door somewhere? I couldn't see one from where I sat, so I hopped off my perch and explored my cell. In the absence of evidence to the contrary, I assumed I was a prisoner.

The walls were vaguely translucent with what appeared to be ripples of seawater beyond. The liquid might have been flowing within the walls. Perhaps the translucency explained the dimness of the cell. Too bright and the light might have been visible outside the vessel. Again, an assumption.

It seemed likely I was inside whatever craft I'd been following. It might sound silly, but at the time I wasn't a hundred percent sure I was alive. Sure, I felt alive. I breathed, I had a pulse. But for all I knew, angels breathe and have pulses, too. Maybe this was the afterlife, and the pearly gates were on the other side of the wall. Then again, perhaps I had fire and brimstone to look forward to. I hadn't exactly been a saint in my lifetime.

I continued exploring the cell. Other than the table off to my right, I couldn't find anything to study, open, or break—just walls, a floor, and a ceiling—and even those merged together. There were no straight lines or edges or seams anywhere. Just a smooth shape, like it had been molded out of clay. Even the table was oval, with rounded edges, rising on a pedestal out of the floor. My head nearly brushed the ceiling when I stood by the table and I could touch both side walls with my outstretched fingers. The length was no more than nine feet. Either whoever operated this craft was ridiculously small, or they were immune to claustrophobia. Me? I already felt closed in.

If only I could talk to someone, to take my mind off my situation. I belatedly remembered my implant. I'd been so distracted that I hadn't even thought to call anyone.

I immediately phoned Joel McCready, my detective friend. Maybe I couldn't tell him exactly where I was, but at least I could let him know where I started out and that I seemed to be underwater. He might be able to do something, anyway.

But no; my call was blocked. Maybe it was the vessel, maybe the water. Either way, I was unable to establish a connection. Now I really felt closed in.

I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Hey! Hello! Anyone there?" Because of the bare walls and other surfaces, I had my fingers plugging my ears. Instead of a resounding echo, I heard a muted version of my voice.

I removed my fingers and tried again. "Hey! Is anyone out there?"

This time I was sure of it. My shout was muffled. But why?

Of course. The walls and other surfaces were soft and absorbent, not hard and reflective. But why have anechoic cells? Was it intentional or merely a byproduct of the materials used for other reasons?

One more mystery, but not a difficult one. It didn't take long to deduce that anyone traveling covertly underwater would want to muffle interior sounds, so as not to give away their position to anyone outside who might be listening for them. Our military subs had the same stealthy goal. But this vessel took the implementation to the nth degree.