Chapter 15 — The Cable Splicer Beneath the Sea

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The diving bell shook harder than any previous descent, the underground waves hitting the steel body creating a constant crashing sound that made Thư have to cling tightly to the handrail to keep her balance. Through the small glass window, the weak sunlight of a morning covered by storm clouds disappeared much faster than before, giving way to thick darkness after only about fifty meters.

"Seventy meters deep, the current is getting stronger with depth." By reading the data from the control station on the ship, his voice was clearly tense compared to previous shifts. "About twice as much as your first dive."

"Noted," Sơn replied, his eyes checking one last time the locks on Thư's diving suit before the bell bottom compartment door opened. "Thư, remember to keep a low position when swimming, to reduce the resistance of the current on your body."

"I remember," Thư replied, her voice sounded slightly distorted through the mixer, but still maintained its certainty.

The diving bell was fixed at a depth of eighty-five meters, about twelve meters from the repair point, much closer than the first time so that Sơn could observe directly through the camera fixed outside the compartment without having to swim away himself. The lower compartment door opened, Bách slid down first, checking the flow by holding his hand out for a short moment.

"The current is strong but still controllable." He reported. "Thư, follow closely behind me, hold on to the guide line if you find it difficult to keep your balance."

Thư slid into the water, feeling the pressure engulf her body for the first time at real depth instead of the shallow simulation training she had experienced. The current pushed her body slightly to one side, but she quickly adjusted her position according to what Sơn had told her, keeping her body low and stable.

"It's okay." She reported, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was still beating fast.

"Very good," Sơn encouraged through the communication, his voice from the diving bell rang out clearly and stably like a fulcrum. "Start moving toward the work area, keeping a slow pace."

The two swimmers followed the guide line that Bách had attached from the previous shift, moving towards the new cable section lying on the sand. The ROV light controlled by Bằng moves above, illuminating spaces that the individual lights on the helmet cannot cover.

"Go to the green area." Report letter upon arrival at the first location marked on the drawing. "Start placing sandbags at the correct distance."

She took each specialized sandbag from the bag she brought, placed them along the cable in the exact order she had memorized, each movement was slow but steady, not in a hurry even though she was well aware of the time limit that was passing by every minute.

"The first sandbag is fixed." She reported after a few minutes, carefully checking the tightness again before moving on to the next position.

Meanwhile, Bách moved closer to the yellow area, where the working space was much narrower due to the rocks protruding from the wall. He had to squeeze his body through a narrow gap to reach the correct position where the protective shield needed to be placed, moving carefully little by little.

"The space here is tighter than I thought." Bách reported, his voice a bit urgent because he had to maintain a restrictive position while working. "But still under control."

"Be careful of the stone above your head," Sơn reminded, his eyes glued to the camera screen, where he could clearly see the dangerous angle that Bách could not observe from his own position. "It is more protruding than expected in the original drawing, possibly due to additional displacement since the previous exploration."

"I noticed it," Bách adjusted his posture, avoided the protruding rock, and continued his work with increased caution.

In the blue area, Thư gradually got used to the rhythm of work, learning to distinguish between normal flow and small local eddies that Sơn had warned about in advance, knowledge that was not in any textbook she had ever studied, and could only be accumulated by personally feeling each slight push of the water. She realized she was starting to read the sea in a completely different way than when she was standing on the water's edge looking through the screen.

"The third sandbag is fixed." She reported, checking the tension of the laces one more time before moving to the next position. "The distance is correct according to the drawing, the error is less than five centimeters."

"Exactly that's good." Sơn commented via contact. "But don't let careful inspection make you forget to keep an eye on your surroundings. Always pay some attention to the environment, not just the task at hand."

"Clear," Thư replied, proactively glancing around to observe the surrounding area before continuing, a habit she is trying to form right in this first dive.

In the yellow area, Bách has completed attaching the first protective shield, moving to the second position closer to the edge of the cliff. He continuously reports the status via communication, a disciplined habit that Sơn has taught the whole team over the years.

"The second barrier is in position," Bách announced, his voice was a bit more tense because the working space was getting more and more cramped. "It takes about five more minutes to set firmly."

"Just take your time," Sơn replied, his eyes still not leaving the camera screen monitoring both locations at the same time. "Five minutes is nothing compared to having to do it again if the fix isn't secure."

Bằng, from the ROV control station on the ship, adjusted the camera angle to get an additional perspective to support the area Bách was working in, where natural light almost no longer penetrated. "I see a new small crack appearing in the stone above you, Bách," he warned, his voice careful. "Not big, but different from the images from the first probe."

"Noted, I will avoid touching that area," Bách replied, adjusting his operating position a little further from the warned crack.

Thirty minutes passed in a steady working pace, both people in the water coordinated smoothly under constant instructions from Sơn in the diving bell. On the ship, Hòa watched the countdown timer, which had now dropped to nine forty-five minutes, while Trung stood next to the forecast board, watching the storm spiral continue to close the distance from the ship's location.

"Progress is better than expected." By notification, compare actual time with the established plan. "If I keep this pace, I can finish about forty minutes earlier than the original estimate."

On the train, Trung stood silently listening to all the developments through the public intercom speaker, his hands clasped tightly on the railings. He had learned, in just a few short days, how to distinguish between a normal report and one that carried signs of stress hidden in his voice, even though he himself was not in this profession.

"Sounds like everything is going well," he spoke softly to Hòa, half as a question, half as a word of reassurance.

"It's too early to say so," Hòa replied, his eyes still not leaving the screen to monitor the indicators. "But yes, so far, everything is going according to plan."

Hearing that information over the comm, a slight sense of relief spread through all three people on the seabed, though no one let it dampen their concentration. Thư continued to place the fifth and sixth sandbags, her movements were now much more skillful than when she started, her confidence gradually formed through each precise operation.

"Three more sandbags to complete your area." She reported, her voice now laced with excitement and concentration.

"Don't rush to be happy," Sơn reminded, although his voice could not hide a bit of satisfaction. "Once it's all done, you can breathe a sigh of relief."

At that moment, a sudden stream of cold water swept across the work area, much stronger than any previous current during the dive, carrying with it a layer of fine sand that reduced visibility to less than a meter in a few seconds. Thư staggered, one hand quickly holding onto the guide line to avoid being swept away.

"What's up?" Sơn asked immediately, his voice immediately switched to the highest alert mode, his eyes glued to the camera screen where the image was blurry because of the stirring sand.

"The current suddenly became stronger, visibility was seriously reduced." Thư reported, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was beating rapidly. "I'm fine, holding on firmly to the guide wire."

"Bách, how is your condition?" Sơn called immediately, the worry in his voice could no longer be hidden.

There was no immediate reply. There was only the hum of communication, and in the distance in the camera screen blurred by sand, a figure was struggling among the rocks, it was unclear whether it was trying to fix its position or facing a much more serious problem. Three seconds passed in absolute silence.