Quoted By:
“Hey, Sinleq…” whispers HOPI, tagging something on your HUD.
What you first mistake for trash is identified as a corpse, fastened onto the railing via a carabiner on its lifejacket. There isn’t much left. Scavengers and bottom dwellers have since rendered the body a sexless, featureless skeleton. A nameless casualty of the end of the world, save for a faded, ragged patch that reads “Toason”.
…if you had a hat, you would’ve taken it off. The best thing you can do is take your hand off the stick, and offer a crisp salute to a fellow seafarer. You can afford that much sentimentality before going back to work.
“This ship’s been dead for a while,” HOPI says as you come amidships, positioning the <span class="mu-i">Magellan</span> right by the hatch. “And you’re far enough from any oil or power lines to where it won’t make a difference.”
“Duly noted, but I’m not taking any chances,” you mutter back. Once the power junction line’s been identified, you cycle through the PUEXO’s kit to settle on the right tool. “Polarize the cockpit and prep the plasma cutter.”
Once the risk of a surge or explosion’s been mitigated, you proceed accordingly. Stabilizers fire as your PUEXO bolts itself onto the deck, and you maneuver the arms onto nearby handholds. Even with the aid of de-powered lifts and hinges, actuators and gyros strain and spike into the orange as your <span class="mu-i">PUEXO</span> strains to lift forty plus however many atmospheres’ worth of water pressure.
“C’mon, baby,” you mutter, licking your lips as you keep a sharp eye on all the panels. So far so good, and performing within acceptable norms. “You’ve done heavier in deeper waters than this…”
You don’t need to even get everything open. Just one of the hatches coming slowly, but surely, off is enough to expose the inner cargo hold of the <span class="mu-i">Courier</span>. While some of the containers are understandably skewed or otherwise protruding into the structure, most seem to be intact, even if crusted and covered with sea life.
Maybe there’s a shipping manifest in the bridge…but you’d have to hop in a diving suit, and climb into a saturation bell before going out for a swim. The <span class="mu-i">Magellan</span> definitely won’t fit. But there’s a raised volcanic plateau off to the horizon, just a handful of kilos south-east of your position. You’ve heard of salvage teams using a combination of pontoons, cables and oxygen pumps to lift wrecked ships off the ocean floor, and bring them gradually into shallower waters for easier salvage.
But that won’t be for a while until after the spaceship.
“Deploying marker,” you announce. There’s a hiss of air, and a <span class="mu-s">CLUNK</span> as you bolt an electronic tracker to the side of the hull, marking it as scouted and claimed by PUEXO pilot Sinleq Unami of the salvage trawler <span class="mu-i">Calypso</span>, citizen of the Free City-State of Babylonia. You bolt another one just for safe keeping, and radio back to the surface to report the stake.
(cont.)
