The following is transcribed from the final radio conversation between Professors Jonas Fielding and Dave Moriarty, lately of the Rhodes Oceanographic Institute of Portland, Maine, from the two-man submersible Wanderer piloted by Fielding and launched from the Institute ship Marryat along with the exploratory probe Triton, manned by Moriarty. The time is Sunday, April 24, 1988 just before five A.M., and nearly fifteen minutes after the men first reported to Sam Lewinsky, Marryat's radio operator, their sighting of the wreckage of the H.M.S. Lady Jane 13,000 feet below sea level.
Any words further italicized (including proper nouns) or in all caps are mine. -DB
Jonas Fielding: Come in, Marryat, come in. You still reading us way, way up there, Sam?
Sam Lewinsky: Affirmative, Wanderer, we always read you, just like when you asked five minutes ago. And it's much better than being way, way, way down there, I can tell ya that! But we're glad your still in one piece, Wanderer, and congratulations again on finding Her Majesty. And don't worry, we'll keep the bubbly on ice!
JF: Can't wait! We won't be too much longer down here anyway. Thanks, Sam!
SL: You got it, Prof!
Dave Moriarty: For Christ's sake, we are nearly done down here, aren't we, Jonas? It's been what, over an hour now? I mean, I know this is the find of the fucking century and all, bigger than the Titanic even, but all this-this deep ocean darkness around us is really creeping me out, even with all our lights on. And I'm not even afraid of the dark!
JF: Not even of the deep, deep dark of the abyss right below us?
DM: Fuck, don't even mention that!
JF: Sorry, Dave, but you knew this was to be a preliminary visit to the wreck on first discovery just so Triton can take some pictures outside from bow to stern, explore inside a bit, maybe through one of those open cabin doors...it might even take another hour...Dave, you wanted to do this, so I don't understand-
DM: I dunno, maybe it's just getting a bit too cramped in here for me.
SL: You guys still doin' okay?
JF: Doing just fine, Sam. So it's both that and the inky darkness?
DM: Maybe. Or what could be in the inky darkness, I guess. Look, Jonas, I'm sorry, I know I'm not exactly being professional here.
JF: I get it, Dave. The darkness, being "cramped," as you put it, so far down here is not exactly my cup of tea either, but this is what we've worked so fucking hard for all these months. Look! Right down there is the Lady Jane herself. The Lady goddamn Jane, Dave! See?
DM: Yeah, I see it.
JF: Resplendent in all her hulking, rusting, barnacled, beauteous, royal glory! Hah! God save the Queen! You remember how she sank, don't you, Dave?
DM: Oh. Uh, no, I don't...actually.
JF: That's just it, Dave, no one knows! She just did. Just...sank!
DM: Okay.
JF: Quick history lesson. She was a burly, able ship like many steeled liners back then. Or so many believed. Set sail from the London docks on the 7th of March 1909 headed for New York. The voyage went smooth as glass until the night of the 15th when they were midway across the Atlantic, just a wee bit south of the Titanic's resting place, then the entire hull just....from stem to stern...just really took on water, fast...totally flooded.
DM: Why? How?
JF: No one knows. There were no icebergs in the vicinity to scrape up against, but the most popular theory going is that the steel used to make the Lady Jane was not of the best quality. Brittle. It may seem far-fetched but still...
DM: Damn. So everyone on board drowned?
JF: Mm-hmm. Their radio op barely had time to wire an SOS, but by then...can you imagine it, Dave? Thousands of men, women and children, highborn and low, in their cabins, deckchairs, the dining room, ballroom, wherever...and the ship just goes right under in minutes! Jesus, can you just imagine the utter fear and confusion they must've felt? No, would they even have had time to feel that?
DM: Yeah, maybe.
JF: But you know the thing that really creeps me most about it? Witnesses on a passing schooner said they could still see all the electric deck lights shining about a hundred feet straight down!
DM: God!
JF: Meaning, of course, they could also clearly see the bodies floating down.
DM: All right, stop it!
JF: Okay, okay, I'll just add one more thing, Dave...no, two. March 15th.
DM: Yeah, I know, it's the Ides. Coincidence.
JF: Okay, but it also sank nine days after embarking.
DM: So?
JF: So...Lady Jane Grey, the ship's namesake, was once the queen of England - for only nine days! How about that?
DM: Okay, that's a bit of a stretch.
JF: But it's true. Bit unlucky, no?
DM: No. Coincidence.
SL: Shit. Now I'm really glad I ain't down there.
JF: Hey, good to hear from you again, Sam!
SL: You guys almost done? No rush, just wonderin'.
JF: I think another half hour ought to do it.
SL: Got it.
JF: There is one lucky thing about where it landed, though, Dave.
DM: Can't talk anymore, Jonas. Maneuvering Triton.
JF: At least it didn't-
DM: Don't say it again.
JF: -sink further down into that deep, dark abyss right below us, beyond our reach!
DM: Asshole.
SL: Really glad!
JF: Picked the perfect parking spot, though. Inspiration point. All righty, I'm going to go over my notes for a bit.
DM: Fine. I think I'll check out one of those open cabins now, Jonas.
JF: Okay.
DM: Let's see. Okaay, here we g-...huh? What the hell?
JF: What?
DM: Something just...fluttered across the inside lower left corner of the doorway. It's gone now, but it flowed out then back in.
JF: What was it?
DM: It was something brown and...ornate. With a pattern. Like...I dunno, curtains or a dress or something.
JF: Could it have been like a fish swimming around there? Some of them can be pretty ornate. Nice vocab word choice, by the way.
DM: Thanks, and no, I don't think so.
JF: Then you're probably starting to hallucinate now, Dave, because I don't think there's any way curtains or clothing or any sort of fabric could still exist down here unless we find them really, really well sealed in watertight chests. They would've long since dissolved.
DM: I don't know, Jonas, I'm only telling you what I saw. Saw, by the way, not hallucinated. I still feel okay.
JF: All right, I won't argue with you.
DM: At least I hope-OH, FUCK!!!
JF: What?!! What is it?!!
SL: Hey, is-
JF: Just a minute, Sam! Dave, what happened?
DM: I-I-I-
JF: Take a deep breath.
DM: I-Jesus Christ, I saw a woman's face in the cabin's porthole, just-just...glaring at-me! No, at Triton! Didn't you see her on the monitor?
SL: What the hell?! A ghost?!
JF: Oh, for-no, no ghosts, Sam!
DM: Why the hell not?!
JF: All right, Dave...
DM: Oh, don't take that fucking sighing tone with me, Jonas!! I know what I saw! Look, it was a woman's face...but the look she gave was just...full of Cruella de-fuckin'-Vil malice! I swear! I can't explain it, Jonas, don't know if it was a ghost, but-I'm not hallucinating! Not yet!
JF: I'm sorry, Dave. Look, why don't you just move Triton inside the cabin to see what's, or...sure, who's there, and if nothing else just poke around, take a few pictures of the walls all covered in coral and anemones, etc., because that's what we'll see, all we'll see, and then just call it a day, okay? Then we can finally go up to the surface, watch the sunrise, get some real coffee...
DM: Condescension?
JF: NO, Dave, damn it! Well alright, maybe a little bit, but just go! Go! Move 'er in!
DM: I don't-
JF: DO IT!!
DM: All right!! Son-of-a-...okay, we're goin' in.
SL: Guys, I don't know about this.
JF: Sam, just stand by! Okay, yeah, see, just like I-SHIT!!!
DM: YOU SEE HIM, JONAS?!!! ON THE MONITOR?!! YOU SEE HIM?!!!
JF: YEAH, YEAH, I DO!!
SL: WHAT?! WHAT, WHO IS IT!!
JF: IT'S A BOY, A GODDAMNED...VICTORIA, I DUNNO...BOY!!! STANDING IN THE CORNER!!!
SL: A BOY?!
JF: DAVE, PICTURES!!
DM: WHAT?!!
JF: TAKE PICTURES, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!!
DM: ON IT!!
JF: Ohhhh, Dave, you were right! My God, look at his face...malice, just like you said! Hate! But why?
DM: Probably 'cause we're trespassing or something!
JF: He-he seems so...real.
DM: Yeah, for a ghost, right?
JF: No, wait...this can't...am I halluci-
DM: SHITSHITSHIT, THERE SHE IS AGAIN!! IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA!!
JF: MY GOD, THAT FACE!! THE BOY'S RUNNING TOWARD-NO, GET TRITON OUT OF THERE NOW!!
DM: I CAN'T!! THEY'VE GOT A HOLD OF IT!!
JF: PULL IT BACK, DAVE!! PULL-
There follows nearly five minutes of static.
SL: -WANDERER, DO YOU READ ME?! PROFESS-JONAS, DAVE, COME IN!! DO YOU READ-
DM(?): Ohhhhhhhhhhh....
SL: HELLO?! ANYBODY THERE?! COME IN, WANDERER!!
DM: Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck...
JF: Stop it, Dave! Yeah...yeah, we read you, Marryat...loud and clear...
SL: Oh, thank God! Jonas, what the hell happened?!
JF: Triton's... gone.
SL: What?!
JF: Gone. Um, we...lost control of it.
SL: What? Where is it now?
JF: My best guess? Sinking down the fucking abyss.
DM: Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck...
SL: WHAT?! Wait, did those, uh, people-
JF: NO!
SL: Ghosts?
JF: NO, SAM!!
SL: But I heard you say-
JF: NOOO, SAM, I DON'T-...I don't believe that.
SL: Prof?
JF: I...do..not. I don't know...what the hell happened.
DM: Shitfuckshitfuck-
JF: CAN IT, DAVE!!
DM: Ohh mannnn...
SL: So what's your situation now, Prof?
JF: Our situation...hum, what's our situation? Wellll, Dave's in total shock and I'm shocked a bit myself, though I'm not also a blubbering, babbling idiot at present. After Triton...disappeared...the sub's main power source somehow shut down ...
SL: What?!
JF: Thankfully I put us on auxiliary...that's why were still communicating, but...interior and exterior lights are weak...zero visibility...
SL: None?
JF: Zero. Zee-row. Pitch. Black.
SL: Damn!
DM: Ohh mannnn...
JF: And even if I could see well enough to move us we probably wouldn't get far on auxiliary, let alone all the way back up to the fucking surface.
SL: Okay. So why the hell do you sound so calm, then?
JF: Because, Sammy, m'boy, in a few blessed minutes I'm going to release Wanderer's cladding, then we'll hopefully rise like fallen angels back up to the very tippy-top of the ocean blue and back into God's wondrous graces.
SL: O-okay.
JF: Alert the captain and crew to be ready for us on deck. Give them my-our-deepest apologies, because...we've got nothing to bring back. No pictures, no samples. No-thing.
SL: I'll-I'll get right on it, Prof.
JF: Two years of hard work. Not a damn thing.
SL: Jonas, just release the cladding.
JF: NOT! A! GOD! DAMN! THING!
SL: LET IT GO, JONAS!! JUST GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE NOW!!
JF: Right. Right right right. Now where is...dammit, I can't find the release lever...
DM: Ohhh, shit...Jonas...look!!
JF: What is-...oh no...no no no...
SL: What?! What do you guys see?!
JM: No no, this is a hallucination. It has to be.
SL: JONAS!
DM: The wreck!
JF: Sam, the Lady Mary just...lit up...uh, electrically, like a goddamn Christmas tree or something.
DM: How? Howhowhow...
SL: No, that's impossible.
JF: DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT, SAM?!?
DM: Jonas, get us out of here!!
JF: Arrrggh, still looking for the fucking-
DM: SHIT!! LOOK AT IT NOW!!
JF: Oh, you can not be serious!
SL: Now what?!
DM: It's-it's the passengers...gathered around the wreck, glaring at us!
SL: What?! How many?
DM: All of them!
JF: Got the switch! We're outta here!
DM: NO!! J-JESUS, THEY'RE RUNNING OVER THE ABYSS!! THEY'RE COMING THIS WAY!!
JF: GODDAMMIT, WE'RE SURROUNDED!!
DM: NO!! NO!! THEY'RE PULLING US OVER!!
JF: THE HATCH!! DON'T LET THEM O-
Static.
SL: Wanderer? Wanderer, do you read me?! Wanderer, come in!! Jonas! Dave! Hey, captain! CAPTAIN!!
INSERT GONG CRASH HERE (a la Arch Oboler's Lights Out Everybody)
No trace of the Professors Fielding or Moriarty, the Wanderer or Triton ever resurfaced.
Nearly a year later another submersible team from ROI made an attempt to investigate the wreck, but returned after reporting being "forcibly compelled" to scrub the mission.
In subsequent individual interviews the crew all agreed, uncannily using the same descriptive words, that before they even descended to ten thousand feet it felt like "hundreds of hands" were pushing their craft back up to the surface.
To date there has been no further exploration of the wreck of the H.M.S. Lady Jane.
Requiescat in pace.
DB/10.2016
Happy Halloween, kiddies! Sleep tight!
