Chapter 7 - The Diver Who Knew the Truth
Derek Vance had built most of his adult life around numbers.
Depth.
Time.
Pressure.
Gas mixture.
Ascent rate.
Numbers did not care about corporate politics.
Numbers did not get nervous.
Numbers did not lie unless somebody made them lie.
At 4:03 a.m., lying in a recovery bed with his left arm bandaged from shoulder to elbow, Derek told Dr. Keane exactly why Marcus Bell’s symptoms terrified him.
“Commercial divers don’t just breathe regular air at that depth.”
Keane nodded.
“I know the basics.”
“We used a mixed-gas profile.”
“What mixture?”
Derek gave him the planned percentage.
Keane wrote it down.
“Who controls that?”
“Topside gas technician verifies the banks. Dive supervisor confirms readings.”
“You were supervisor.”
“Yes.”
“So you confirmed them.”
“I confirmed what the panel displayed.”
Nadia stood near the foot of the bed.
“What if the display was wrong?”
“That’s what I’m wondering.”
Keane frowned.
“Why now?”
“Because Marcus did everything right.”
“Maybe his symptoms are unrelated.”
“Maybe.”
Derek looked at Nadia.
“But if they aren’t, then decompression schedule isn’t the common failure.”
“The gas is.”
“Potentially.”
Keane pulled up a chair.
“Who was the gas technician?”
“Jonah Pierce.”
“Can we contact him?”
Derek’s expression changed.
“Maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“Jonah quit the morning after the incident.”
Nadia stared.
“That seems important.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you mention it?”
“I didn’t know until two days later.”
“Did you ask why?”
“He wouldn’t answer.”
Keane said, “Phone number?”
Derek gave it to Nadia.
She dialed.
Straight to voicemail.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Keane asked, “Address?”
“I don’t know.”
Lorraine appeared at the door.
“Eli’s first chamber session is complete.”
Derek sat forward.
“And?”
“Improved sensation.”
The relief on his face was immediate.
“Movement?”
“Better.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not yet.”
Lorraine looked at Keane.
“Marcus Bell is coming here.”
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Any other calls?”
Lorraine hesitated.
“One.”
Everyone looked up.
“Another diver?”
“Topside tender. Not a diver. Says she has information.”
Derek’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
“Samantha Ruiz.”
He knew the name.
“Sam was comms.”
“Was?”
“She told me yesterday she’d been taken off the Blackwater project.”
“Why?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
Lorraine continued.
“She wants to speak only to Derek.”
Keane looked at him.
“You’re popular tonight.”
Derek ignored the comment.
“Put her through.”
Samantha Ruiz’s voice came from the speaker.
“Derek?”
“I’m here.”
She exhaled.
“Thank God.”
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Why did you call?”
“I heard about Eli.”
“How?”
“Jonah.”
Derek’s entire body tensed.
“You talked to Jonah?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Where is he?”
“He won’t tell me.”
Keane leaned toward the phone.
“Samantha, this is Dr. Roland Keane. We have multiple people from that dive developing symptoms. If Jonah knows something relevant to their exposure, we need it now.”
Silence.
Then Samantha said, “The analyzer failed.”
Derek stared at the speaker.
“What analyzer?”
“Primary helium-oxygen analyzer.”
“When?”
“Before the dive.”
Derek’s face drained of color.
“That’s impossible. I saw the readings.”
“They bypassed the sensor.”
“Who?”
Another silence.
“Sam.”
“Halpern ordered Jonah to feed the backup calibration values to the panel.”
Derek’s good hand closed around the blanket.
“Why?”
“The replacement analyzer hadn’t arrived.”
Nadia whispered, “Oh my God.”
Derek spoke slowly.
“You’re telling me the displayed gas composition was not a live reading.”
“Yes.”
“What were we breathing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sam.”
“I don’t know.”
“Who does?”
“Jonah.”
Keane said, “We need him to contact us.”
“He’s scared.”
“So are my patients.”
“He thinks Northstar will destroy him.”
Derek’s voice hardened.
“Tell Jonah I said hiding won’t protect anybody now.”
Samantha began to cry quietly.
“There’s more.”
Derek closed his eyes.
“What?”
“The conduit.”
“The unlisted cable.”
“It wasn’t unlisted.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
Derek opened his eyes.
“What don’t I understand?”
“The route file was edited the night before the dive.”
The room became completely silent.
“Edited by who?” Keane asked.
“I don’t know.”
Derek said, “What was changed?”
“The conduit layer was removed.”
“Removed from the map?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sam.”
“I swear.”
Her breathing shook.
“I noticed because I’d printed the earlier route for the tender station. The next morning the digital version was different.”
“Did you keep the printout?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Derek looked at Keane.
Nadia understood the significance even without knowing anything about subsea engineering.
A paper route showing the conduit.
A digital route without it.
A failed gas analyzer.
A falsified display.
Multiple sick divers.
This was no longer negligence in one place.
It was a chain.
Keane said, “Samantha, do not send that document to anyone you do not trust. Do not alter it. Do not photograph it repeatedly. Preserve it.”
Clara Wynn entered behind him.
“I already contacted the state occupational safety office.”
Samantha heard.
“State?”
Clara stepped toward the speaker.
“Yes. This is Clara Wynn, Harbor Crest administration. Your information may be relevant to a serious workplace safety investigation.”
Samantha whispered, “I could lose my job.”
Derek looked toward the phone.
“Sam.”
She sniffed.
“What?”
“Three people may already be sick.”
Silence.
“Bring the printout.”
A long pause.
“Okay.”
The call ended.
Derek sank back.
Nadia watched anger replace fear.
“Derek.”
He looked at her.
“You knew Halpern pushed schedules,” she said. “Did you know he’d bypass safety equipment?”
“No.”
“Do you believe Samantha?”
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He gave a humorless laugh.
“Because suddenly every strange thing from that morning makes sense.”
He explained.
The gas technician who kept checking a panel that should not have needed checking.
Halpern’s impatience.
The route discrepancy.
The refusal to identify the conduit.
The pressure afterward to keep everything within Northstar occupational health.
“The pieces were there,” Derek said.
“So why didn’t you see them?” Nadia asked.
He looked at her.
“Same reason Keane didn’t see your diagnosis.”
Keane raised an eyebrow.
Derek continued.
“Because the explanation I trusted was easier.”
Keane did not take offense.
“Fair.”
At 4:31, Marcus Bell arrived.
He was conscious.
Vomiting.
His right shoulder showed irregular discoloration.
Less severe than Derek’s.
His neurologic exam showed mild balance problems.
The hyperbaric team evaluated him.
A third case.
Keane stood in the hallway staring at three patient boards.
Vance.
Mercer.
Bell.
“This is a cluster,” he said.
Clara nodded.
“State agrees.”
Nadia checked the time.
Her shift technically ended at 7:00.
It suddenly seemed like another lifetime.
Then the emergency entrance opened.
A woman in a soaked jacket hurried inside carrying a waterproof document tube.
Samantha Ruiz.
She saw Derek through the glass.
He saw her.
She stopped.
For a moment nobody moved.
Then Samantha crossed the department and handed the tube to Clara.
“This is the original route.”
Clara opened it carefully.
Inside was a large printed subsea map.
Samantha pointed to a thick line running beside the training platform.
“That’s the conduit.”
Derek stared.
The training site had been placed almost directly over it.
Samantha pointed to a handwritten note in the margin.
Derek leaned closer.
There were four words.
RELOCATION DEFERRED—BUDGET HOLD.
He looked at Samantha.
“What does that mean?”
She answered quietly.
“They knew the platform conflicted with the cable.”
“How long?”
“Six months.”
Derek’s face hardened.
The picture on Eli’s phone had shown an inspection label from six months earlier.
Now the paper route confirmed the same timeline.
This was no mapping error.
No accidental discovery.
Northstar had known.
Clara rolled the document carefully.
“I’m securing this.”
Samantha nodded.
Then she looked at Derek’s bandaged arm.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I should’ve said something before the dive.”
“You didn’t know the analyzer was bypassed then.”
“I knew the map changed.”
“You thought engineering corrected it.”
“I wanted to think that.”
Derek understood.
They all had.
Keane.
Nadia.
Samantha.
Himself.
People rarely ignored danger because they were stupid.
Sometimes they ignored it because the safer explanation was easier to live with.
A nurse called from the hyperbaric area.
“Dr. Keane!”
Everyone turned.
Keane hurried over.
“What?”
The nurse’s face was tense.
“Eli improved after treatment.”
“That’s good.”
“He did.”
“Did?”
“His symptoms are returning.”
Derek’s head snapped up.
“How fast?”
“Very.”
Keane was already moving.
Nadia followed.
Derek started after them.
This time nobody tried to stop him until Keane turned.
“Stay here.”
“Roland—”
Keane noticed the first-name use but ignored it.
“Derek, you are postoperative.”
“That’s my diver.”
“He is my patient.”
The words stopped him.
Keane continued.
“And I am going to take care of him.”
Derek remained frozen.
Nadia followed Keane toward Eli’s bay.
Behind her, Samantha sat beside Derek.
“You trusted the system,” she whispered.
Derek stared through the glass.
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No.”
She looked toward the hyperbaric doors.
“But maybe fixing it starts with admitting that.”
Inside the treatment area, Eli’s leg weakness was worsening again.
Keane ordered repeat imaging.
The next scan revealed something nobody had expected.
Not a spinal stroke.
Not trauma.
A pattern of tiny abnormalities suggesting the pressure exposure had affected more than nerves.
When the radiologist showed Keane the images, he went silent.
“What?” Nadia asked.
Keane pointed.
“These changes appear in multiple tissues.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning if the gas mixture was wrong, the standard decompression profile may have been wrong for every person on that dive.”
Nadia looked toward Marcus.
Then toward Derek.
Six divers.
“So we need to find the others.”
“Yes.”
“Now.”
Keane nodded.
Before he could speak, Samantha’s phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face went white.
“Who is it?” Derek asked.
She turned the phone toward him.
JONAH PIERCE
Derek answered.
“Jonah?”
A frightened male voice whispered:
“I know what was in the tanks.”
May you like
And what Jonah Pierce told them next would explain why every diver at Blackwater Reach had been placed in danger before anyone even entered the water.
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