Authors: Ben Lovett
Specifically: Mururoa Atoll.
Jansen had known about the first test that had gone horribly wrong thirty years ago to the day, a test the French, for the most part, had managed to keep under wraps. Now the French were at it again, this time, they had planned six underground tests in and around the Atolls. Five had already been completed, ranging in power from anywhere between thirty and sixty kilotons of TNT.
The final test, the equivalent of a blast of one-hundred and twenty kilotons of TNT was due to be performed in two days time on the near Fangataufa Atoll. Jansen knew that blast could destroy all marine life in the area and leave major radiation leakage that would continue to spew from the sea floor for years to come.
Jansen was determined to stop it.
His mission today was to obtain levels of radiation around the Mururoa Atoll from the sea bed with the hope that considerable levels, dangerous levels, would be prominent in the samples so he could present the findings in a hearing with the Australians at the International Court of High Justice.
Though such a hearing had seen the New Zealanders thrown out four months prior, they had not put forth any substantial evidence that the testing was permanently damaging the area. Greenpeace knew, with the last two tests occurring off Mururoa within the last two months, that radiation levels in the area would spike from previous samples and that was all they would need to have the final nuclear test stopped.
With this in mind Peter Jansen wanted to get as close to the atoll as he could. The French held a twelve-mile exclusion zone around Mururoa, something he now knew they held with the highest of importance.
In the last three months, in-between tests the three major Greenpeace ships, the MV Greenpeace, the Rainbow Warrior and the Rainbow Warrior II, as well the smaller ship Manuatea were stormed by French troopers while roaming the waters inside the exclusion zone. While no one was hurt and all Greenpeace personnel were released, it was a big wake up call. The French were not putting up with protests or invasions on the territory. The ruling had come down from the Greenpeace leaders that they obey the exclusion zone until the end of testing. With that ruling in mind Jansen brought the ship to anchor thirteen miles off the coast of the Atoll.
* * *
"I'm telling you Beth, you should see how beautiful it is out here. The sun is shining, it's warm without being uncomfortably hot, and my tan is unbelievable. You really should hop the next plane over here kiddo—my treat"
Art Montoya spoke into his satellite telephone to his daughter as he prepared his dive equipment at the stern of the Rainbow Warrior Junior. He missed his daughter like any father would after six months away.
On his latest quest to save the world, Montoya, a former head of archaeology at the University of New Mexico and now Greenpeace crusader, he still longed for the creature comforts of home and family.
After his wife had passed away three years previous from breast cancer and shortly after his daughter moved away to college, Montoya decided it was time to do away with the thesis and do some good. This would also afford him the opportunity to carry out some archaeological fieldwork in different regions of the world.
Montoya was on the better side of fifty, dark, thick hair and a hard body. He'd stayed in shape throughout his college days to keep up with the students and he'd continued that when he'd signed up in Greenpeace
. God knows you needed to be in shape for some of the dirty work they had you do.
Today was one of those days. He was joining in on the dive team to take silt and water samples from a depth of one-fifty feet to gauge the level of radiation and chemical leakage on the ocean floor. All in all, seven divers would join Montoya on the dive, all with hopes that high levels would show in their findings, significant enough to close the French operation in the South Pacific.
Just then Peter Jansen, head of this mission, came down from the bridge, he had pulled the boat to a halt and had dropped the anchors. Jansen was to be Montoya's dive buddy. Montoya was the least experienced of the divers on the boat, Jansen, the most.
Jansen rounded up the troops from throughout the ship, they gathered at the stern where their diving equipment was set in readiness.
"Righto, gentlemen. We all know what we're looking for today. Let's go find ourselves some solid samples. I want you guys to get some coral samples and pay particular attention to anything that seems mutated by the radiation." Jansen was a powerful presence and held everyone's attention. He knew they would carry out his orders as if they were gospel.
In unison the men threw on their dive gear: tanks, depth gauges, weight belts, kit bags with empty glass vials, large bowie knives and finally their masks and fins.
They paired themselves, Montoya taking up position next to Jansen, then one after the other they fell backwards into the water.
* * *
When the bubbles and white water of the entry cleared from his field of vision, Art Montoya gazed in awe at his new environment. The large underwater world of the South Pacific stretched out for miles in every direction.
Visibility in these waters was always good. Montoya felt as though he could see forever, endless meadows of coral lay beneath him. The dive team sank slowly in pairs, watching the oncoming scene below; waiting in anticipation for what they hoped would be a successful mission.
Jansen looked at his depth gauge: fifty-feet, fifty-five-feet. Jansen looked at his buddy Montoya, a rookie diver but a quick learner.
Montoya had proven to be an asset to the cause. A man who brought much experience to the table and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, he had already proven himself. Jansen had specifically requested he join him on this mission, if for nothing else than the stories Montoya could tell.
Seventy-feet.
Montoya had once told Jansen about an archaeology field trip to a lost Incan City in South America.
Montoya had originally been searching for an ancient Mayan Temple that had housed the remains of Mayan Kings. What he had uncovered instead was a lost Incan City in partial ruins, hidden in the dense Amazon rain forest.
Within the city limits Montoya had found over one hundred mummified bodies and thousands of ancient Incan artifacts. Hailed a legend in the archaeology world, he was offered a prestigious position in London on the International Board of Archaeology, which he declined, preferring to take a position at the University of New Mexico.
Jansen felt this summed up his friend perfectly.
Montoya wasn't after fame and fortune, he wanted nothing more than to be able to spend time in the field, not sit in a room somewhere in rainy old London. With Greenpeace, Montoya had the best of both worlds. He helped their causes and spent time investigating the land around him. Jansen looked at Montoya, gave him the thumbs up sign.
One Hundred-feet.
Montoya returned the thumbs up to Jansen then looked down at the oncoming Niangala reef. As he descended more and more detail came into focus.
Slowly, small sea creatures began to appear, tropical fish, stingrays and small sea organisms filled the water weaving in and out of the coral.
Montoya was captivated with the complexity of the world that lay beneath him. He had never imagined before what an intricate world lie beneath the surface of the ocean. To see schools of fish swim in perfect harmony while small sand crabs would clean the algae off the shells of turtles like it was their given lot in life fascinated Montoya. Add to that the millions of tiny microorganisms that zipped in and out of small coral formations, it provided a surreal scene.
One Hundred and twenty five-feet.
The bottom was close now, a few more seconds and Jansen would be on the sea floor.
In between the cities of coral were white desert fields of ocean sand; sand that could contain the pollution Jansen so desperately searched for. This was more than a cause for Jansen, it was a passion. A passion that drove him to do anything in order to achieve his goal.
One-fifty.
A small dust cloud rose around the divers as their webbed-feet landed on the powdery surface of the ocean floor.
To the right of Montoya a large flat-headed fish scooted from its sandy hideaway to a more peaceful resting place. In pairs again, the divers began spreading out across the area. They wanted to cover as much of the territory they could without losing sight of one another.
Safety first.
Jansen motioned to Montoya's left. A large metropolis of coral, abnormally large in Jansen's mind, lay what seemed to be about two hundred feet from them.
Together they kicked into gear as they headed for the formation. Montoya kept thinking to himself that what he saw must be some kind of mutated coral, it stretched fifty-feet towards the surface in certain parts, something which he had never seen in coral before, and he had dived many of the largest reefs in the world.
Jansen motioned for Montoya to swim past the large formation; Jansen wanted to see what was on the other side, curiosity getting the better of him. He had a feeling it was going to reveal something no one had ever seen before.
Several large openings in the formation gave Jansen thoughts of large underwater caverns and what was in those caverns fascinated him. These would wait for later. Jansen wanted to get beyond the formations. They kicked their way around some of the strangest formations both men had ever seen. Large spires jutted up from the sea bed. Scattered amongst those were what appeared as domes of coral, multi layered and multicolored; Jansen couldn't believe his eyes.
Domes?
Montoya was the first to round the city of coral. Almost immediately he notice that beyond the formations was nothing. White sands stretched on indefinitely and there was nothing else in the distance that he could clearly identify. Montoya motioned to Jansen, pointing to the desert ahead of them.
Montoya had the idea that what he was seeing was the remains of the latest groups of testing on the reef. Everything up until this point was obliterated on the ocean floor, leaving nothing but the floor itself. Thus explaining the sudden appearance of the coral metropolis now behind then.
A perfect place for samples
, Montoya thought. Jansen floated down next to Montoya, they had lost sight of the other members of the dive team; they were on the other side of the coral cluster. Jansen didn't like it but figured that both he and Montoya would get their samples and move quickly back to the rest of the group. Jansen pulled out a couple of vials and scooped up small amounts of the fine white sand off the ocean floor.
Jansen caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision. One of his dive team members were investigating the coral city, breaking off small pieces of coral for testing.
Montoya saw the other diver, motioned to Jansen that he was going to investigate. Jansen nodded as he stood on the sea bed sealing his evidence. Montoya floated onto the peak of the formation and began scraping away bits of algae and weed from the coral to place in his vials.
Then his world turned upside down.
The ground shook violently; the coral beneath him gave way, collapsing in on itself, falling away. Montoya kicked hard with his fins as a tremendous down draft tried with all its power to suck him into the earth. The diver next to Montoya vanished beneath him as a gaping hole appeared and stretched away in the distance like a lightening bolt on the ocean floor.
Suddenly Montoya could see the other divers away to his right, they all struggled to kick to the surface. To his left he saw Jansen vanish into a gaping abyss that continued to widen and deepen.
Montoya was pulled down by the draft but was able to grab onto a small ledge that was the only thing between him and certain death. Montoya held his ground until the down draft stopped. He kicked himself up and onto the ledge, peering down into the abyss below. Total darkness was all he could see. He turned around to find that he was not on a ledge but a large stalactite of earth jutting towards the surface. Montoya was surrounded by deep abysses on all sides of him.