Man From Atlantis Read online

Page 6


  “Elizabeth...”

  “You agreed to let me start with the basics.”

  “Okay, okay. Anyway, I can look at you while you talk, which is always a pleasure.”

  “But listen too, okay?”

  “Promise.”

  “Now, the molecules of oxygen and nitrogen dissolved in water have about the same pressure as in the free air, and they move in about the same rapid motion. So they can pass from water through the gill membranes of a fish the same way they pass through the lung membranes in humans. The difference basically is only that there are fewer molecules of oxygen per cubic foot of water than per cubic foot of air. So, to breathe water, more membrane must be in contact with the water to get enough oxygen.”

  “Did I ever tell you that your eyes are even more beautiful when you are deeply absorbed in your subject?”

  “Hey!”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Yeah, I can tell.”

  “No, really, Elizabeth. I follow you on the oxygen-transfer bit, the difference between water and air.”

  She leaned back and sighed. “I should give you a quiz afterward.”

  “Fine. That means you’ll be here longer.”

  “To continue, with your permission

  “Granted.”

  “Whereas a human has just two lungs, each with a singular surface, quite sufficient for extracting oxygen from the air, that total surface area is not enough for water. A fish, on the other hand, has layers and layers of gill membrane—a much greater amount of the membrane in relation to the size of the fish—for the water to wash over continually for oxygen extraction. To put it quite simply, a human drowns in water because although the lung apparently can extract enough oxygen from the first breathful of water, there cannot be maintained a sufficient circulation of water to renew the oxygen supply. There simply isn’t enough lung surface to be in contact with the water. A fish out of water cannot breathe sufficient oxygen because it doesn’t have expanding lungs to draw in the air, and because the gill tissues must be kept moist to function properly.”

  “Just to show you that I’m listening, Elizabeth, let me point out that you completely ignore certain facts, such as the differences in the lung and gill membranes themselves—not only their structure but their fabric—and the differences in muscular structure, and—”

  “Yes, yes, yes, I’m aware of ali that, my favorite lieutenant commander. I’m just trying to show you that the basic breathing functions in humans and fish are not as different as most people assume. In fact, it has actually been proven that, given the proper type of membrane and enough surface of it, a human can actually breathe under water.”

  “Proven? Come on...”

  “Proven, Phil. The Navy’s been playing with this concept for twenty-five years or so. And others have tried it out too. You don’t have to believe what I say about Mark Harris. These are things you can look up yourself. For example, in the early sixties an inventor from New Jersey named Waldemar Ayres built a gill apparatus that actually worked. He made four fifteen-foot-long paneis of plastic membrane that allowed gasses from the water to pass through them, but not the water itself. Sixty-four square feet of this membrane were in contact with the water. Using a scuba-type breathing hose attached to this artificial gill, he breathed oxygen extracted from the water for more than an hour.”

  “Where on earth did you hear a thing like that?”

  “As I said, you can look it up. And if that doesn’t tell you something, there’s more. In 1964, General Electric built a small animal cage covered with a thin silicone rubber membrane. They put a hamster in the cage and submerged the whole thing under water for a long time, and the hamster breathed. That means that the oxygen was filtering through the membrane into the cage. And theoretically, with a big enough bubble of the right membrane, a man could be safely submerged in it the same way.”

  “That’s not much like a gill.”

  “It’s exactly the same principie, Phil, just that in these cases the gill was an external one, not one inside the chest. But the effect was exactly the same.”

  “You said I could look this stuff up. Where? In Science Fiction DigestP’

  “Not at all. The GE experiments were covered by Life magazine, Time, The New York Times, Scientific American, and a bunch of other publications.”

  “And what about this other guy, what’s his name?”

  “Ayres. Well, in 1966 he got a patent on his device, which means he had to demonstrate that it worked. And his patent even covered the method used by GE.”

  “Hey, Elizabeth,” his tone suddenly changed, “you really mean it, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I’m a scientist myself, you know, and I have the same questions you do.”

  “But why wasn’t something done with all this? Why hasn’t the whole underwater business been revolutionized? Why are we still diving with compressed-air tanks instead of using some of these artificial-gill-type things?”

  “Aha. Now it’s my turn to inject a bit of what you might call ‘reality.’ The question was—as it usually is—one of money and practicality. Theoretically, a man, using an artificial gill of this type properly designed to be strapped to his back, could swim around under water indefinitely, breathing like a fish, with no air tanks or surface hoses or anything. But nobody seemed to want to invest the money to develop such a usable backpack gill, because one major problem remained.”

  “Which was?”

  “The artificial gills would work for humans only in relatively shallow water. The deeper you dive, the more nitrogen is absorbed into your system. The ordinary human diver using compressed-air tanks begins to suffer from nitrogen narcosis at around a hundred feet, and it gets worse the deeper you go. For some it starts much shallower.”

  “You and I have both been through that drunken euphoria enough times. ‘Rapture of the depths,’ such a beautiful, deceptive term.”

  “I’ll say. Well, the problem is, the artificial gill doesn’t change that. You still get too much nitrogen in deep dives. And the other problem is with the bends. On longer dives—beyond, say, thirty feet—you would still have to go through gradual decompression from the added depth pressures before you could surface. So in simple terms, the artificial gill might allow you to breathe like a fish, but you would still be subject to human limitations. And aside from allowing you to swim in shallow water without air tanks or hoses, an artificial gill wouldn’t change the problems scuba divers have always had.”

  “But still, Elizabeth, most diving is done in less than twenty-five feet of water. You would think that somebody would want to develop a gill even if it’s just for that.”

  “You would think. I guess it would cost a lot of money. When Ayres got his patent, he made a deal with some company to develop his artificial gill. The word is that the Navy was going to underwrite the project with the company, to provide lab facilities and so forth. But then the Navy backed out—maybe because they didn’t feel that the possible military applications would justify the money—and the project just sort of disappeared.”

  “And now you have your project. And this Mark Harris, with his—as you call them—‘gill like tissues,’ he can do all this underwater breathing without these problems. I wonder why.”

  “I wish I had the answers. In the first place, though, what he breathes with is not artificial. The components of the membrane may be crucial, for instance. And he doesn’t get nitrogen narcosis or the bends. I don’t know why. In that way he’s more like a fish.”

  “All like a fish, as I see it.”

  “Nope. Because he can also breathe satisfactorily on land for quite a long while.”

  “At least he’s totally different from humans as far as water is concerned.”

  “You make it sound like all humans are just alike in that regard.”

  “Well aren’t they? Given proper conditioning and training, we all dive the same way, experience the same effects.”

  Elizabeth laughed lightly and t
ilted her head toward the ceiling. “Dear old Phil, I can’t believe what I hear you say. You know full well that thin people tend to suffer nitrogen narcosis more quickly than heavier people, because fatty tissue can absorb more nitrogen safely.”

  “Well, okay, I know, but...”

  “Perhaps you don’t know—but you should—that there is some evidence that women may be naturally better adapted to diving and swimming than men.”

  “How so?”

  “Because the greater amount of fatty tissue in women’s chests and legs makes them naturally more buoyant than men. So while a man uses more energy just to stay horizontal under water, a woman can use her energy to move around, to swim, to work.”

  “Oh come on, Liz,” Phil wrinkled up his nose and frowned, “a man has more powerful muscles and—”

  “So?” She interrupted and leaned over the table and touched his nose with the tip of her finger. “You will admit that there are differences even in humans, under water?”

  “Touché.” He smiled and took her hand. “Anyway, now you’ve really got me interested in your project.”

  “I don’t have to remind you,” she withdrew her hand gently, “that this is a top-security matter.”

  “Thanks for reminding me that you don’t have to remind me. I am a lieutenant commander in your same navy, after all. And who would I tell? I’ll be gone taking the Sea Quest on a dive soou anyway.”

  “Really? Where to?”

  “I don’t know, for sure. I just know it’s gonna be super-deep.”

  “When?”

  “Maybe in a week or so. They’ve been keeping it under wraps. We’re getting a full briefing from Defense on Monday.”

  “That’s great. I hope your machine works.”

  “Oh, she’ll work. You ready for your mousse? It’s all chilled.”

  She stood up and stretched. “Let me pass on it this time, Phil. I’m still stuffed with veal. And I’ve got to be getting back. We’ll be starting a new series of performance tests tomorrow. I’ve got some paperwork to get through.”

  “Okay. Sorry you’re leaving, but glad you came. As you know.”

  “Thanks, Phil.” She slipped on her light sweater, and he walked her to the door. “I’m glad I came too. This is the first time I’ve been out of that lab for weeks. It feels good.”

  “In a few days, when I get back from my dive, will you come over, and stay longer?”

  “Sure. You’ll have a lot to tell me about. And I’ll eat the mousse. Bon voyage.”

  “Till then.”

  Mark and a dolphin, brown and friendly, cavorted in the long, rectangular dolphin pool, diving under and over each other, rolling on their backs, swimming together in circles.

  “Hey, Mark,” Elizabeth, in a diver’s wet suit, stooped at the edge of the pool, “save your strength for the tests. You’ll both be worn out before you can show your stuff.”

  Admirai Pierce and Lt. Ainsley walked up behind her and watched as Mark separated himself from the dolphin and glided over to Elizabeth.

  She looked up and blushed slightly. “I was only teasing him, Admiral. Actually I’m not worried about Mark. He’s got tremendous endurance. In the water, that is.”

  “Well, that’s one of the things we’re here to see. Does he understand how to run through these tests, what they’re ali about?”

  “I don’t know if he understands what they’re ali about, sir, but he knows how to do them. So, by the way,” she smiled, “does the dolphin.”

  “Dolphins are too darn friendly for their own darn good, sometimes.” The admiral watched the dolphin leaping around the pool.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Oh, just that we’ve had some difficulty teaching them to be a little more, unh, aggressive, you might say, in certain situations. I’m speaking about defense work, of course. Personally I like the little buggers. But in certain situations where we want them to be a little more, unh, helpful against a hostile subject, they turn out to be altogether too palsy-walsy. I’m hoping your, er, man might have a more finely tuned sense of discrimination in his behavior.”

  “I don’t know about his aggressiveness, Admiral. I’ve never seen him get hostile. He certainly is cooperative. He’ll do anything I ask.”

  “Well, let’s get on with it. Let’s see what he can do when I’m around.”

  “Okay.” She leaned over toward Mark, who had been studying the admiral’s face. “Mark, we’re going to do the speed and agility tests now, okay? Even more than before. It is important for the admiral to see for himself what you can do.”

  Mark slid under the water, swam over and nudged the dolphin, and together they moved to the shallow end of the pool. Elizabeth dropped in beside the dolphin and petted it as it nuzzled her leg.

  Her lab assistant, crouched at the edge of the far end of the pool, held a small bell in one hand and a stopwatch in the other. Beside him was a small bucket of fish.

  At the _side of the pool opposite the admiral and Ainsley; a Navy man in work clothes adjusted his small movie camera atop its tripod and focused it on Mark and the dolphin, then turned it slowly to scan the length of the pool. He gave Elizabeth the thumbs-up sign.

  “Okay, everybody ready?” She looked at the admirai, who nodded, and at her assistant, who held up the bell. “Ready, Mark?” Mark and the dolphin separated a few feet, lay still in the water, heads toward the far end.

  Elizabeth held up her palm toward the assistant while she checked the alignment of Mark and the dolphin, then clenched her hand into a fist.

  The assistant rang the bell. Instantly Mark and the dolphin surged forward, both lightning-fast. Mark’s undulating movements more pronounced than the dolphin’s.

  In seconds they arrived at the end of the pool, turned together, zoomed back to the shallow end, turned again, and raced back to the assistant. They arrived virtually simultaneously at the far end. The assistant dipped his hand toward Mark, indicating that he had arrived a fraction of a second before the dolphin.

  The admiral looked amazed. Lt. Ainsley’s mouth hung open.

  The assistant reached into the bucket and took out a tiny fish. He tossed it out over the pool. Mark propelled himself straight up from the water, grabbed it with his left hand, and flipped it toward the dolphin, who leaped up and caught it in its mouth and swallowed it.

  Elizabeth beamed at the admiral.

  “Amazing, Dr. Merrill. Truly amazing. You get it all on there, cameraman?”

  The photographer across the pool nodded and waved.

  “Let’s do it again, Doctor.”

  Elizabeth lined up Mark with the dolphin, and the rate was repeated, with the same result.

  “Again.”

  Again they raced, finishing exactly together.

  “I’m convinced of his speed, Doctor,” the admiral said, coming around to her end of the pool and extending a hand to help her out. “You were absolutely right, no exaggeration. Exciting.” He lifted his head to look out to the center of the pool, where Mark was floating on his back. “Excellent, Mr. Harris. Thank you.” He gave Mark a snappy salute.

  Mark swung his legs down under him and gazed at the admiral, then at Elizabeth.

  “Perfect, Mark,” she called out.

  Mark flipped upside down, kicked his legs high out of the water, and dove for the bottom.

  “Now, Dr. Merrill, we have some more difficult tasks for him. Even more profound in meaning. You’ll have him ready for the CURV tests early tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes sir. Mark will be ready whenever the CURV is.”

  “It’s set to go. They’re dropping the dummy torpedoes in the channel this afternoon.”

  At the mention of torpedoes, an apprehensive look flicked across Elizabeth’s face. But she said nothing. She joined the admiral to walk back frito the laboratory.

  “Tell me, Doctor, I’m curious about your man’s sensitivities. You’ve swum with him, I assume.”

  “Many times.”

  “How does he
behave, in the water with your”

  “It’s quite interesting, actually. When I have tanks, he swims around all over the place, does whatever I signal him to do. When I go under without tanks, he seems reluctant to leave me alone—as if he knows I don’t belong under the water that way, because I can’t breathe without the tanks.”

  “Which indicates, of course, that he does have some emotions after all.”

  “Well, I think he knows that I can’t breathe under water like he does. I suppose he can only guess at my capacities. But he knows I can’t stay under too long, without an airpack. I guess you might say he shows some concern for my safety.”

  “That is encouraging. I had hoped he had something approaching human intelligence. Very valuable.”

  “This might surprise you, Admiral, but in fact that dolphin behaves the same way, when I’m under water.”

  “Is that so? Perhaps the dolphin picked that up from him.”

  She shook the water out of her hair and stepped through the door, which the admiral held open for her. “Perhaps.”

  “Does he ever physically try to assist you in any way in the water, lift you or support you or anything?”

  “You mean with his arms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mark has never touched me, nor I him, except to shake hands. And except when I’ve examined him, of course.”

  “But of course his having arms gives him a tremendous advantage, in performing tasks.”

  “You mean advantage over a dolphin.”

  “Yes.”

  “Naturally.”

  “So I’m excited at the prospect of testing his strength and dexterity, with those arms.”

  “That’ll be tomorrow.”

  “Yes. See you in the channel.”

  Elizabeth spent a restless night. She slept on a cot in her office at the lab. She too was anxious to discover and show off Mark’s various talents and capabilities. She had a strong proprietary interest in him; he was her very own project, her star. The advancement of her career was intertwined with Mark’s performance.

  Yet, Mark was not “hers,” not just some piece of scientific gear. So at the same time she was apprehensive about how his talents might be used. There was always the bottom line of what the Navy existed for. She felt herself wishing—almost—that he would show some vulnerability, some flaw or weakness under water that would make him unacceptable for certain tasks, and keep him out of the clutches of those who might misuse his skills.