Chapter 13 — The Cable Splicer Beneath the Sea

Twelve Hour Remaining Window

At six o'clock in the morning, just as the diving team was preparing to enter the saturation chamber to move out the diving bell for the reinforcement shift, an emergency forecast message appeared on the entire screen of the Vạn Lý, accompanied by a shrill warning sound that Bằng had never heard from the system before.

"The storm just changed direction." By reading aloud, his voice lost its usual calmness. "It will not deviate to the north as previously forecast, but will maintain a west-northwest direction with an increased speed of six kilometers per hour. According to the latest model, the center of the storm will approach this area in about twenty hours, and the sea will begin to exceed the safe level for diving in about twelve hours."

The entire cockpit paused in a heavy silence. Twelve hours, which was much smaller than any estimate they had given during the past three days.

"Twelve o'clock," Hòa repeated, his eyes never leaving the forecast screen, where the gray-white vortex was now much larger, the red-orange bands indicating areas of strong winds expanding rapidly towards the ship. "Enough for one reinforcement dive, not enough for two if the first one goes wrong."

"So this case must be successful the first time," Trung said, his voice tense again, although much calmer than the previous days after the conversation with Sơn at dawn.

"There is no guarantee of success the first time in this profession," Sơn replied, walked into the cockpit in a half-dressed diving suit, and stood listening to the entire news report. "But I will do my best to achieve that."

"Who will go this time?" Bách asked, standing next to Sơn, both were ready for the dive.

"You and I, as originally planned," Sơn replied.

"No." Bách shook his head, a decision he had clearly considered before, not spontaneously. "You've been diving for three consecutive shifts in the past thirty-six hours, including the first exploration shift. I've only had two shifts. Let me go with Bằng this time, you rest."

"Bằng doesn't have enough technical diving certification for this complicated reinforcement case." Sơn objected immediately. "This shift requires working close to unstable cliffs, placing sandbags in exact positions according to the drawings I made, which is not something one person can safely undertake."

"Then I'll go alone," Bách suggested, although he didn't sound completely confident in the suggestion itself.

"No one dives alone in complex technical cases, that is an unbreakable rule," Chu Tuệ Lam spoke up, her voice as decisive as anyone else in the room. "If something goes wrong, one person is not enough to both save himself and support the other."

A tense silence spread out. Everyone understands that the situation is stuck between two imperfect options: either Sơn continues to dive even though he is exhausted after many consecutive shifts, or find another solution that no one has thought of at this time.

"I can go." A voice rang out from the cockpit door. Minh Thư stood there, having changed into her basic technical diving suit without anyone noticing, her eyes as determined as the previous afternoon when she volunteered for the first time. "I know Mr. Sơn refused last time, and I understand the reason. But now the situation is different. It's not because the weather window is shorter that I'm more reckless, but because I've observed all three dives, clearly understand the sandbag placement drawings, and I believe I can assist with simpler tasks to reduce Bách's load, while Mr. Sơn supervises from the diving bell instead of having to go to the bottom a fourth time." Sơn looked at her for a long time, pondering every word she had just said, not with the eyes of someone looking for a way to refuse, but with the eyes of someone truly evaluating a serious proposal.

Before Thư could answer, Bằng spoke up, his voice a little guilty. "I can go instead, if certification is the only issue. I've been teaching myself basic technical diving after school for the past two years, even though I haven't taken the official certification test yet because I'm busy operating the ROV."

"No official certification means no one has independently confirmed your actual skills in an emergency situation." Lam objected immediately, not because she doubted Bằng's ability, but because it was a principle she always followed absolutely. "I cannot sign a medical clearance for a complex technical dive with someone who has not passed the test."

"Then keep your role at the ROV control station." Hòa decided quickly, closing that branch of the proposal. "I need you there more than ever for the next twelve hours, to monitor the terrain and provide lighting support for anyone in the water." Bằng nodded, not arguing further, although there was still some regret evident on his face.

"Monitoring from the diving bell, not reaching the bottom completely, what does it mean?" Sơn asked Thư, wanting to understand her ideas before judging.

"The diving bell can be lowered closer to the bottom than the standard position, enough for you to observe directly through the camera and communicate directly with Bách and me without having to swim out yourself for the entire dive," Thư explained that he had clearly thought through this plan before entering the cockpit. "You can still intervene if needed, just without the full physical stress of a fourth full dive in a row."

Hòa looked at Chu Tuệ Lam, waiting for medical evaluation. "In terms of physical condition, is that plan feasible?"

"Feasible, if Sơn really just supervises and doesn't swim out unless it's an emergency," Lam replied, her eyes looked straight at Sơn like a hidden warning. "But I need to clarify, your current indicators are still within the threshold for diving. I am not suggesting this option because you are not healthy enough. I support it because it distributes the risk more reasonably for the entire team."

Sơn was silent for a moment, looking around the cockpit, from Thư's determined eyes, to Bách's cautious look of relief, to Hòa and Trung's waiting. He realized this was exactly the kind of decision he had never learned how to make three years ago: not one based on how much he could handle alone, but based on what the team, together, could do best.

"Okay," he said, his voice decisive but no longer reluctant. "Thư went with Bách, took charge of installing sandbags in the flat sandy area, far from the cliff. I supervised from the diving bell, took on the most difficult part near the cliff by guiding via communication, only going down myself if there was a problem beyond the ability to handle remotely."

"Thank you," Thư said, her voice clearly relieved.

"Don't thank me yet," Sơn replied, although the corner of his mouth slightly raised. "This is the first time I've actually gone to the bottom of the sea to work, not just sitting on the water's edge anymore. All the principles you've taught me over the past few days, now it's time for me to actually apply them, they're no longer just theories."

Hòa lightly clapped his hand on the chart table, signaling the end of the discussion. "Twelve o'clock, starting now," he spoke, his voice as decisive as a starting whistle. "Prepare to leave."

Before everyone dispersed, Trung walked closer to the storm forecast board and looked at the twelve o'clock number displayed in the corner of the screen for a long time. "If this case fails in twelve hours, what is the next option?" He asked, not to add more pressure, but really wanting to prepare himself for the worst possibility.

"Withdraw the ship to shelter from the storm, wait for the storm to pass, come back to assess the situation later," Hòa replied directly, without evading. "It may take another three to five days, depending on the actual development of the storm."

"Three to five days without connection, right when the storm was raging on the island," Trung repeated, his voice lowered, but this time there was no longer the panic of the first days, but a heavy acceptance. "I understand. That's the risk I have to accept if conditions don't allow it."

"That's right." Hòa nodded. "But I believe my team will do the best they can in these twelve hours. I believe in Sơn, in Bách, and now in Thư."

Sơn heard those words and felt a sudden warmth creeping into the tense atmosphere of the cockpit. It was no empty word of encouragement, but a true declaration of confidence from someone who always put safety first, and that, to him, was more valuable than any good luck wishes.

Bách patted Thư's shoulder as they both walked out of the cockpit and headed towards the preparation compartment. "I was going to say something more but I didn't have time to say it?" He asked, realizing that Thư still had something unfinished in her eyes.

"Nothing important." Thư shook her head and smiled slightly. "I just want to say, I will try my best not to make you worry about anything else besides my main job."

"I'm not worried that you'll slow down your work," Bách replied, his voice sincere. "I just hope we all get out of the water safely when these twelve hours are over."

The two entered the preparation compartment, where Sơn was already standing, checking one last time each piece of equipment to be brought down. His eyes were more serious than ever, as if trying to pack all of his fifteen years of experience in the profession into the final instructions he was about to pass on to his two teammates who were about to enter the diving bell with him.