PoraBora

Chapter Forty-Five

Makaia didn't knock. Akoni's door burst open.

"The oil has ended," said the man. "You and the syphons are finally called to use."

Akoni was marched to the surface. The oil did not coalesce in a bubbling pit in the sea. It simply faded back into purple reflection. There was no sign of Keasau. No waves of heat hung over the surface, no reason at all to think they hadn't only been following a soak ship that had finally fixed its leak, except that there was no such ship that could hold that much.

"Prepare to dive," commanded Makaia.

Akoni snorted but did not argue. Tua and the syphons were gathered, none looking too happy about it, and they changed into their diving suits, thick, water-proofed canvas paired with tubes that ran to the ship. Goggles, windowed by tortoiseshell's outer layers (foggier than glass, but less dangerous for the eyes), aided visibility. While any Taipalan worth his bananas could open his eyes underwater, working in oil was a different thing.

"You too," said Makaia.

"Someone needs to remain at the bellows," said Akoni. "Someone who knows how."

"Pick any of your syphons," said Makaia. "I want you in there."

"They have more experience than I do," Akoni growled. "Don't be petty now."

"Diving, maybe," said Makaia. "But I do not see any ink on their shoulders. You are best situated for bringing it back to the surface."

In twenty minutes, everything was ready. Akoni stretched his goggles over his eyes, legs hanging in the water from the hammerhead's mouth, and used a finger to make sure they were air-tight. He sweated in his suit, partly because it was so thick, and mostly because it was so much effort to put on.

It wasn't his first dive. While he did not think a commander, captain, or chief was best served on the front line of their work (command required a fuller picture), he did think they were best served by knowing the details of the work they were commanding. It made it easier to predict the problems, and know the cause, and figure out the solution. But it had been a while.

Akoni bit his mouth around the end of his tube and breathed through it. Kepuni and Poka remained behind for the bellows, to pump and direct Makaia's warriors in pumping.

There was no reason to believe they might be sabotaged, Akoni told himself.

He nodded to Kepuni on his other end, who looked grimly back.

Akoni pulled out the mouthpiece, which tasted of leather and was already soaked with saliva. "Alright," he said to Tua, Noo'omu, and Yetamika. "Don't be stingy with your air. There's plenty up here. Dive safe. Don't overextend. If you see Keasau, tug once, then repeat on the count of four. Those tugs will be repeated back to us. More or less air, just use the regular system. Nothing fancy. Nothing to think about. You've all done this before. The only difference is we're doing it with Keasau."

They nodded, put in their air, and took their testing breaths. More nods. They checked suits. More nods. Their standard wear helped them to nearly six-hundred feet, back at the spar. They had two suits that could take a man to a thousand, except one man had died doing it, so Akoni was hesitant to send anyone that far. Fortunately, he rarely had to. Damage occurred near the surface, during breaches.

Here, Akoni didn't want anyone going more than two hundred. Maybe a hundred and twenty. They didn't have their helmets, and he didn't trust the warriors at the bellows.

A hundred and twenty should be plenty, he thought. They were surveying, and Keasau didn't dive that far. He wasn't a sperm whale.

Standard tugging meant communicating air needs, and included a waggle of the line every sixty seconds, just so the men on top could know if anything went particularly wrong in relatively good time. They could waggle down, too, in case they missed a message, which Poka explained to the Akapuans.