Project Altum
The majority of people traveling to work usually interact with a car, an elevator, and a secretary but that wasn't the case for the submersive six. Only they were "fortunate" enough to have a trip to the office that involved a submarine.
The job lasted three months during the summer break and typically attracted university types. Sure the site was off the coast and adjacent to the university, but the reason college kids signed up wasn't because of proximity. No, you'd have to have a still developing brain to be daring enough to sign the final non-disclosure document and suit up to go under.
What awaited you at your office was a pitch black abyss, inhabited only by the creatures that evolved in order to survive there, which apparently meant surrendering their attractiveness. But who needs good looks when you're in the dark?
Each year the station moved to another section of the grid. Professor Kiln had a well worn map hung above his desk at the school and each year the tiny red peg that represented the station would move. And thus the station would move.
No one ever signed up two years in a row to do the underwater duty. Most took the job for the pay but after three months in the alien terrain, the students didn't exactly long to return.
Being on the floor of the Pacific ocean was analogous to being on the surface of the moon...except that more is known about the moon than the sweeping depths of the ocean. Perhaps it was that enigma that attracted Dr. Kiln to study the ocean. He was particularly interested in the cracks and crevices that ran along the sea bed.
Shoot, half the university thought Dr. Kiln was batshit bonkers but he was appointed by the former dean just before his departure and guaranteed job security. The new dean couldn't get rid of him if he tried. The contract he signed was iron-clad. Not to mention, Dr. Kiln's research yielded some promising results about three years ago, so he's ridden that wave as long as he could. But three years is a long time ago and Dean Stints is losing his patience.
But rather than fret over his tenuous position in the dean's eyes, Kiln locked himself away in his office, plotting, researching and writing. His glasses constantly slip down his nose as he strains in the evening light to read whatever colossal volume he is currently on. Hurried ambition has turned his hair gray in only a year. Usually he can be seen wearing polos, which he has been scolded on more than one occasion for wearing, due to the fact that they are too informal. His solution to the criticism was to throw a tie around his neck.
Students loved Kiln even though he spent more time doing research and giving seminars than preparing for class. Who knows, maybe his disheveled nature was relatable to the students, who were rarely prepared themselves. Either way, everyone at the university knew Dr. Kiln, but only six were chosen for Project Altum. The requirements were that you had to be 1) crazy 2) not afraid of confined spaces or long periods of loneliness 3) in perfect physical health 4) a junior or senior with a 3.8 GPA or higher and 5) have some interest in the ocean or at least research.
Once submerged, you could only come up once a month. After all, it was quite a long journey all the way down to 7,000 feet. The bottom was a dull void, the atmosphere of which usually hung around 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Thousands of pounds of pressure aimed to crush the station, which was built a decade ago in 2082. The technology needed to make such an expedition possible was only invented in 2071. So it could be said that Dr. Kiln and his students were on the cutting edge of discovery and technology.
Many upgrades have since been made to the station and the sub pods that deliver participants to the site, but there was always room for error. Each participant had to have a will in place before beginning, but most tried not to dwell on that fact. However, Talon couldn't help but think of it as he descended into the ocean's gaping maw.
(This material is copyright protected)
The job lasted three months during the summer break and typically attracted university types. Sure the site was off the coast and adjacent to the university, but the reason college kids signed up wasn't because of proximity. No, you'd have to have a still developing brain to be daring enough to sign the final non-disclosure document and suit up to go under.
What awaited you at your office was a pitch black abyss, inhabited only by the creatures that evolved in order to survive there, which apparently meant surrendering their attractiveness. But who needs good looks when you're in the dark?
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| Case in point |
Each year the station moved to another section of the grid. Professor Kiln had a well worn map hung above his desk at the school and each year the tiny red peg that represented the station would move. And thus the station would move.
No one ever signed up two years in a row to do the underwater duty. Most took the job for the pay but after three months in the alien terrain, the students didn't exactly long to return.
Being on the floor of the Pacific ocean was analogous to being on the surface of the moon...except that more is known about the moon than the sweeping depths of the ocean. Perhaps it was that enigma that attracted Dr. Kiln to study the ocean. He was particularly interested in the cracks and crevices that ran along the sea bed.
Shoot, half the university thought Dr. Kiln was batshit bonkers but he was appointed by the former dean just before his departure and guaranteed job security. The new dean couldn't get rid of him if he tried. The contract he signed was iron-clad. Not to mention, Dr. Kiln's research yielded some promising results about three years ago, so he's ridden that wave as long as he could. But three years is a long time ago and Dean Stints is losing his patience.
But rather than fret over his tenuous position in the dean's eyes, Kiln locked himself away in his office, plotting, researching and writing. His glasses constantly slip down his nose as he strains in the evening light to read whatever colossal volume he is currently on. Hurried ambition has turned his hair gray in only a year. Usually he can be seen wearing polos, which he has been scolded on more than one occasion for wearing, due to the fact that they are too informal. His solution to the criticism was to throw a tie around his neck.
Students loved Kiln even though he spent more time doing research and giving seminars than preparing for class. Who knows, maybe his disheveled nature was relatable to the students, who were rarely prepared themselves. Either way, everyone at the university knew Dr. Kiln, but only six were chosen for Project Altum. The requirements were that you had to be 1) crazy 2) not afraid of confined spaces or long periods of loneliness 3) in perfect physical health 4) a junior or senior with a 3.8 GPA or higher and 5) have some interest in the ocean or at least research.
Once submerged, you could only come up once a month. After all, it was quite a long journey all the way down to 7,000 feet. The bottom was a dull void, the atmosphere of which usually hung around 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Thousands of pounds of pressure aimed to crush the station, which was built a decade ago in 2082. The technology needed to make such an expedition possible was only invented in 2071. So it could be said that Dr. Kiln and his students were on the cutting edge of discovery and technology.
Many upgrades have since been made to the station and the sub pods that deliver participants to the site, but there was always room for error. Each participant had to have a will in place before beginning, but most tried not to dwell on that fact. However, Talon couldn't help but think of it as he descended into the ocean's gaping maw.
(This material is copyright protected)
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