理查德·米兰达/Richard Miranda
With a loud noise, the corroded bulkhead collapsed, sealing off the divers escape route. Now, as he groped desperately through the dark maze of drowned passageways, he could measure his life expectancy precisely-by the 25-minute supply of air in his tan……
Had I known what was facing me on June 16，1979，I would never have left the dock. As it was, preoccupied with the wreck of the USS San Diego, I headed my 47-foot dive boat, the Barnacle Bill, out of Jones Inlet, Long Island, N.Y.
An American heavy cruiser, the San Diego had met her fates in 1918 as she escorted cargo ships about ten miles south of Fire Island. Some crew members claimed the warship struck a mine. As a professional dive boat captain I didnt care why she sank, only that I had a good crew and 20 scuba divers aboard, all eager to hit the water in search of artifacts.
Three and a half hours later, the Barnacle Bill arrived at the wreck, and we dropped our grappling hook. I summoned crew members Doreen Olsen and Lars Hansen, and we prepared the vessel for the dive. Since Doreen and Lars are both licensed captains, they could attend the Barnacle Bill while I dived.
Once the topside chores were taken care of, I suited up, hit the water with a splash and swam toward the anchor line. The water was crystal clear. Most of the divers were already at the bottom, and I could see their bubbles coming to the surface. What a sight！
Twenty feet down, I could already make out the wrecks dark outline, rising off the bottom like the lonely ruins of a cathedral.
I headed toward the stern, looking for an opening in the hull that I had used on earlier dives. I knew it would take me to the small arms locker where I had previously located boxes of ammunition. The guns themselves should be nearby, I fgured：They would make great souvenirs, even if corroded.
Diving into a wreck like the San Diego can be dangerous, and defnitely is not for beginners. The vessel is upside down, resting in 102 feet of water, and you can imagine the frigid loneliness that grabs you when you swim into the dark twists and turns of her interior.
I spotted the opening, moved inside and played my light around the front corridor. I knew this section of the wreck well, but as I swam deeper I saw that rusting bulkheads and decaying decks had given way during the winter, changing the shape of the interior considerably.
Suddenly I heard a loud noise. I turned and swam back 40 feet toward the frst bulkhead. When I got there, I was struck with terror. The noise I had heard was a bulkhead collapsing against the gap through which I had entered the wreck.
I was trapped.
Into the Maze. My heart beat so loud I could hear it I wanted to scream for help, pray, kick-turn all this into a nightmare from which I could awake. But it was no nightmare. Moreover, my plight was of my own making, I had gone down improperly equipped-no safety line to guide me back, no alternate air supply and, most important, no diving companion. My mind flashed back four years when my colleagues pulled the body of a diver from the same wreck. They found him ten feet from an opening through which he might have escaped. But he had panicked, removed the equipment and made a last-ditch effort to swim to safety. His fngers were scratched to the bone by his vain attempt to tear through the ships hull.
I tried to relax, because I knew the more excited I got, the faster I would use up my air. Physically Im in good shape, I thought, so I should be able to stretch another 25 minutes out of this tank.bat what should l do?I had to probe deeper into the wreck and fnd an opening large enough to escape through.
I thought of the deck guns. Often divers would squeeze through openings in the gun turrets and work their way into the vessel. If I can get to the gun turrets, I‘ll have a chance. Since the ship was inverted, however, the gun turrets might be buried under sand on the ocean’s foor. Moreover, going into deeper water would cut into my precious air supply, because the more pressure you have on your body, the more air it takes to fll your lungs.
I cringed at the possibilities, but fgured I had to go for the gun turrets as fast as I dared, without getting out of breath.
I found an opening that allowed me to go lower into the ship. As I twisted through a maze of narrow corridors, a thousand ugly visions fashed through my mind. Each one reminded me that I was probably going to die.
A Few Breaths Left. I came to a fork in the corridor. On the right was a clutter of pipes and debris, so I opted for the left and went about 40 feet before coming to a dead end.
I retreated and swam carefully around the pipes and other debris in the passageway to the right. Twenty feet along it my lamp began to dim. Without light, lm as good as dead. Just no way I can fnd my way around. So now the race was against a dying battery as well as a diminishing air supply.
In the next passageway, I caught a glimpse of light through a crack in the hull-but it was not nearly wide enough for me to get through. I knew my diving companions would be heading back to the anchor line by now, so I decided to stop and take a chance of attracting their attention.
I found a piece of copper pipe and put one of my rubber gloves over its end. Then I pushed the glove through the opening and waved it. If someone noticed the glove, he could at least get extra tanks of air through the narrow gap. Sure enough, a diver appeared.
I stretched my arm through the opening, and with my knife scratched on the side of the hull：“Trapped……Air……Rope.”
The diver headed for the surface as fast as he dared, to let the others know of my predicament.
With only a few minutes of air left in my tank, I was panicking. I know Lars will be here……if l can just hang on. To conserve air, I skipped every other beat in my breathing rhythm. For an instant, I considered moving on, using up the air in a last desperate effort to fnd my own way out. Then I heard Larss bubbles as he approached.
Next moment he was pushing in the frst of two air tanks he had brought down. I strapped it on. Each tank would give me an additional 30 minutes to work my way out of this underwater labyrinth. I feltbetter already.
Desperate Choice. Lars had also brought down a light for me and a long safety line. Grabbing the lamp and one end of the line, I headed back into the wreck. Now, by pulling the line after me, I could return for more air. That is, if no more bulkheads closed in behind me.
As I worked back into the wreck, Lars fastened the other spare tank to the side of the narrow opening, and then began looking along the outside of the hull for a possible way to get me out.
Pacing myself to keep from getting out of breath, I swam cautiously through a confusion of narrow corridors and cluttered spaces. I kept bumping into pipes, jabbing myself with protruding objects and taking wrong turns. Fear was squeezing the breath out of me.
Soon I came to a spot that resembled the inside of a gun turret. There was a narrow opening to it that might just accommodate my 200-pound frame if I removed my tank and pulled it through after me. I had to chance it.
But as I squeezed through the opening, the tank fell from my grasp. The regulator was jerked from my mouth, nearly pulling my front teeth out. I had a fast choice to make-either search for the tank I had dropped or try to follow the safety line 70 feet back to the other tank Lars had left for me. I doubted that I could make the swim on the air remaining in my lungs. But could I locate the dropped tank?
Perhaps I should just give up, open my mouth and fll my lungs with water. It will be over in a few seconds, and then I can rest.
This was crazy！
Something grabbed my right shoulder. I nearly jumped out of my wet suit. It was Lars. He had managed to fnd a way down around the gun turret, via another opening in the wreck.
I grabbed Larss mouthpiece and gasped in a few breaths of air. I was almost out of my jam Lars and I could buddy-breathe from his tank and work our way clear of the wreck, following the safety line he had pulled behind him.
We wriggled out through the gun turret without too much trouble. But I had been near the bottom for 70 minutes；Id have to spend over an hour decompressing. We followed the anchor line to the ten-foot level. There we found two sets of double tanks waiting for us, lowered by our alert shipmates.
When eventually we eased to the surface everyone on board greeted us with sighs of relief. It seemed that a dark curtain had lifted as I gazed at the beautiful seascape glittering in bright sunshine.
Back on the Barnacle Bill, I pulled off my gear and thanked Lars and my other resourceful companions. Then I went down into the cabin to rest. Lars appeared in the doorway, a slight grin on his face.“What would you have done if I hadnt shown up?”he kidded me.
I considered.“When I got back to the boat，”I said，“Id have fred you. Now let me sleep.”
伴着一声巨响，那面被海水长久腐蚀的舱壁坍塌了，潜水员的退路被封死了。此刻，他在黑暗中拼命地在这座水下迷宫里摸索着前进。他可以精确地预计他还有多长的寿命——氧气罐里储存的氧气只够他呼吸25分钟了……
如果我早知道会在1979年6月16日碰到这种事，我说什么都不会离开码头。事实上，当时的我一心只想着打捞那艘失事的美舰“圣地亚哥”号里的物件。于是，我便开着我那47英尺长的潜水船“北极鹅嘴”号，驶出了纽约长岛的琼斯湾。
“圣地亚哥”号是美国的一艘重型巡洋舰，1918年为一批货船护航时，在位于火岛以南约10英里处的海域上失事遇难。有的船员认为，这艘军舰撞上了水雷。我，作为一名职业潜水艇船长，对它如何沉没并不感兴趣，我关注的是自己拥有一批优秀的船员和20名配有水下呼吸器的潜水员，而且他们都和我一样，渴望到水下寻找沉船里的物件。
三个半小时后，“北极鹅嘴”号到达了舰只残骸所在地。在那里，我们抛下了铁锚。我把船员多林·奥尔森和拉斯·汉森喊来，然后开始准备潜水用的船只。由于他们都取得了船长资格证，所以在我潜水期间，他们可以照看我们的船只。
当安排好了水面上的工作后，我就穿上潜水服，纵身跳入水中，游向锚索的方向。海水像水晶一样清澈。大部分潜水员已经到达海底。我可以看见他们呼出的气泡冒出水面。多么神奇啊！
下潜至20英尺时，我已经能辨识出沉船的大概轮廓。它看起来就像从海底升起的一座大教堂的废墟。
我朝船尾游去，找到那个我前几次下潜时所用的入口。我知道，那个入口通往一个存放轻兵器的小铁柜，之前我还发现有几箱弹药。我想，那些枪支应该也在不远处。我觉得，即使它们已经被海水腐蚀，也仍然可以成为极好的纪念品。
潜入像“圣地亚哥”号这样的沉船是非常危险的，初学者肯定无法胜任。这艘沉船已经彻底翻了过来，长眠于102英尺深的水下。当你游进内部那些黑暗、迂回曲折的通道时，可以想象出那种孤独感是多么的可怕。
我发现了入口，游了进去，用手电筒向前廊四周照射。我对沉船的这一部分了如指掌。当我再向深处游去时，我看到生锈的舱壁和朽坏的舱面在过了一个冬天后全都坍塌了，而这也使船体的内部结构发生了很大变化。
突然，我听到一声巨响，之后，我便立刻转身向第一个船舱回游了40英尺。当游到那里时，我惊呆了。那声巨响竟是一堵舱壁倒塌的声音，而它恰好把我进船时的那个入口堵死了。
我被困在沉船里了。
我似乎进了迷宫。我的心跳声大到连我自己都能听到。我想大声呼救，祈祷，奋力挣扎——想把这一切变成一个我能从中醒过来的噩梦。但这不是噩梦，而且，这样危险的处境是我自己一手造成的。我没有把自己武装妥当就潜入水底，我没有系上可以引领我往回游的保险绳，没有可替换的空气瓶，最重要的是，我没有同伴。我的记忆一下被拉到了四年前，当时我的同事们就是从这艘沉船里抬出了一具潜水员的尸体。他们发现，其实那个潜水员距离出口只有10英尺。他原本可以从那里逃脱，但当时惊慌失措的他卸下了潜水设备，一心只想着游出去。他试图扯裂船壳，他的手指因此变得皮开肉绽，骨头都露出来了。
我试着让自己放松，因为我知道，自己的情绪越激动，我的氧气消耗得就越快。我想：我的体质很好，罐里的氧气应该可以够我用25分钟。但我现在应该做什么呢？我必须潜到更深处，找到一个足够大的出口逃出去。
我想到了甲板上的大炮，潜水员经常从炮塔中间的通道挤进去，然后设法进入船只内部。如果我找到炮塔，就有一线生机。但这艘船已经底朝天了，那个炮塔可能已经被埋在沙子里了。而且，再潜往深处，消耗的宝贵的氧气就更多，因为身体所受压力越大，肺部需要的氧气就越多。
面对这些可能，我有些畏惧。转念一想，我必须在呼吸困难以前尽快找到炮塔。
我发现了一个可以让我潜入军舰更深处的入口。当我在弯弯曲曲、宛如迷宫的狭窄长廊里穿行时，我的脑海里闪现出无数个恐怖的画面。每一个景象仿佛都在提醒我，我可能要命丧于此。氧气所剩不多了，我来到了一个走廊的岔道口，右边摆放着乱七八糟的管子和杂物，我只好选择左边那条。游了40英尺，我才发现这是个死胡同。
于是，我退了回来，小心翼翼地绕过那些过道里的管子和杂物，向右边游过去。游了20英尺，手电筒的灯光开始变暗。如果没有灯光，我和死人没什么区别，因为那样的话，发现出路的可能性就变得更小了。因此，从现在开始，我要与这即将用尽的电池和氧气赛跑。
在第二条通道里，我突然看见了从船壳的一条缝隙中透进来的光亮——但那不够宽，我不能从那儿钻出去。我想，我的潜水伙伴这时应该会到锚索那里了。所以，我决定停下来，试试看他们能否注意到我。
我找到一根铜管，把我的一只橡皮手套套在一头，然后把管子伸出洞去，来回摇摆。如果有人看到那只手套，他起码会从那个狭窄的空间里给我递一罐氧气进来。果然，如我所料，一个潜水员出现了。
我将胳膊伸到裂口外面，用小刀在船壳外沿刻出几个字：“被困……氧气……绳索。”
那个潜水员以最快的速度游到海面，告诉其他船员我的处境。
我罐里的氧气只够用几分钟了，我有些慌张。我知道拉斯会来救我，如果我能再坚持一会儿的话。为了节省氧气，我将呼吸频率降低了一半。我曾想过用尽全部氧气，用最后一丝力气向前游，找到出路。后来，我听到了拉斯游近时吐水泡的声音。
紧接着，拉斯推进一个氧气罐——他带着两个。我立刻把它捆在背上。每个氧气罐可以供我使用30分钟，我要用这半小时的时间闯出这个水下迷宫。我的精神马上振奋起来。
孤注一掷的抉择。拉斯还给我送来了手电筒和长长的保险绳。我抓住了手电筒和绳子的一端，重新回到沉船深处。现在，拉着身后的保险绳沿路返回，我可以获得更多的氧气罐。不过，那是在我身后没有更多的舱壁倒塌拦住去路的情况下。
当我回到沉船深处的时候，拉斯已经将另一个氧气罐绑在那个狭窄裂口的外边。接着，他也开始从船舱外面帮我寻找出路。
为了避免呼吸过于急促，我控制着自己的速度，小心谨慎地游过那杂乱无章的走廊和布满杂物的空间。我不断撞到管子，碰到突出的东西，转错弯。巨大的恐惧几乎让我窒息。
很快，我来到了一个类似于炮塔内部的地方。那里有个洞口，但很狭窄，或许它能容下我200磅的身体。不过，我要卸下氧气罐，把它拖在我的身后。我必须试一下，碰碰运气。
但当我试着挤过那个小洞时，我手里的氧气罐脱落了。那个调节器也从我的嘴里跑掉了，差点儿把我的门牙挂掉。我必须快速作一个决定，要么去找那个飘走的氧气罐，要么沿着保险绳游70英尺，回去拿拉斯给我留的那个氧气罐。我怀疑肺里所剩的氧气支撑不了我游那么远。可是，我能找到那个掉落的氧气罐吗？
或许我该放弃，直接张大嘴巴让肺里灌满水，只需几秒钟，我就可以安息了。
简直是发疯！
有东西突然抓住了我的右肩膀，我吓得差点儿从潜水服里跳出来。是拉斯！他终于在炮塔周围找到了另一个进入沉船的入口。
我抢过拉斯的面罩，猛吸了几口气，总算脱离了生命危险。拉斯和我可以共用他的氧气罐。我们一起跟着他身后的保险绳，从这艘船里游出去。
爬出那个炮塔时，我们比较顺利。因为我在海底待了70分钟，所以必须用一小时来减压。我们沿着锚索游到距离海面10英尺处。在那里，机灵的水手已经为我们准备好了两个氧气罐。
当我们浮出水面时，船上的每个人都来迎接我们，向我们表示祝贺。我松了口气，凝望着那灿烂阳光下的海景，仿佛那道黑色的幕布也消失了。
回到“北极鹅嘴”号潜水船上，我把潜水服脱下来，感谢拉斯和其他机智的同伴，然后进入船舱休息。拉斯站在门口，面带微笑。他开玩笑说：“要是我当时没有出现，你会怎么办？”
我想了一下，说：“等我到了船上，我会开除你。好了，赶紧让我睡会儿吧！”
知识点
科幻小说是主要描写想象的科学或技术对社会或个人的影响的虚构性文学作品。美国著名文学评论家伊哈布·哈桑曾说：“科幻小说可能在哲学上是天真的，在道德上是简单的，在美学上是有些主观的或粗糙的，但是就它最好的方面而言，它似乎触及了人类集体梦想的神经中枢，解放出我们人类这具机器中深藏的某些幻想。”
W词汇笔记
expectancy[ikspekt?nsi]n.预计；期望；期待
例 Women have a higher life expectancy than men.
女人比男人的预期寿命长。
summon[s?m?n]v.召集；召唤；鼓起（勇气）
例 Summon the pupils together in the school hall.
把学生召集到学校的礼堂里。
wreck[rek]n.失事；残骸
例 I was devastated by the news of the wreck.
我获悉失事的消息，感到十分震惊。
accommodate[?k?m?deit]v.容纳；使适应；调解
例 This room can accommodate four people.
这间屋子可以住四个人。
S小试身手
如果早知道我会在1979年6月16日碰到这种事，我说什么都不会离开码头。
译________________________________________
我曾想过用尽全部氧气，用最后一丝力气向前游，找到出路。
译________________________________________
当我们浮出水面时，船上的每个人都来迎接我们，向我们表示祝贺。
译________________________________________
P短语家族
But he had panicked, removed the equipment and made a last-ditch effort to swim to safety.
make an effort：努力；作出努力
造________________________________________
Pacing myself to keep from getting out of breath, I swam cautiously through a confusion of narrow corridors and cluttered spaces.
out of breath：喘不过气来；上气不接下气
造________________________________________