Depth Charge Jason Heaton (books to read in your 30s txt) 📖

at the Deep Blue. Ian was in the hyperbaric chamber at the Trincomalee naval base up the coast and would stay there for the next few days. For a while there, Tusker had worried he wasn’t going to make it. Roland had helped him get a taxi from the resort for the drive up the A15. Ian was curled in a spasmodic husk of pain in the back seat the whole way, sucking on the emergency oxygen kit Tusker had found in Sebastian’s workshop. Then it ran dry. The doctor had said he’d need at least four days in the chamber while his body was brought back down to a simulated depth and then decompressed slowly. If he was lucky, Ian might regain use of his legs one day.

Tusker was supposed to be getting on a plane back to the U.S. soon. His visiting fellowship in Sri Lanka was set to end and a new semester of teaching back at Michigan Tech would be starting in a couple months. He could imagine the mail that had piled up back at the post office in Copper Harbor. Then there was the fieldwork in Jamaica next winter to start preparing for. But that all seemed so distant now. He was only thinking one day at a time, for the first time in years.

The light was on in the dining area, and though he didn’t feel like socializing, Tusker ducked under the thatched roof. Sebastian was sitting alone at a table, eating a plate of rice and curry with his fingers. He looked tired but beckoned Tusker to sit down. “Eat something? You must be very hungry.” He called out in Sinhala and the cook, a rail-thin old man in a sarong and dirty button-up shirt, appeared out of the kitchen. “You want chicken? Fish?” Sebastian asked Tusker.

“Fish.” Tusker didn’t feel like eating, but he couldn’t remember the last meal he’d had.

“Malu,” Sebastian said, and the old man nodded and disappeared again. The smell and sound of frying food emanated from the kitchen.

“Roland told me what happened,” Sebastian said. “Dr. Senanayake is a good doctor. Your friend is in good hands.”

“I think he was deeper than me for most of the dive. I should have alerted him to it.”

“Well, everyone reacts differently, and a lot can depend on diet, dehydration, how much sleep he had, if he was stressed.”

Tusker nodded. Sebastian was trying to be helpful, but his words felt empty. Tusker had seen the effects of decompression sickness before. Watching Ian writhing in the back of the taxi brought to the surface raw emotion. With Upali’s death, it was almost too much to bear. And yet, what was pushing foremost in his mind was that hole in the Taprobane.

“Did Upali mention anything about their work? Anything strange?”

Sebastian finished chewing while he thought. “He was pretty excited two nights ago by what they found. Thought it was the Vampire.” He took a swig from a bottle of ginger beer. “But he did say they had found something peculiar in the wreck. Didn’t say what but said he needed to make a trip up to Trincomalee… the navy base, as a matter of fact, to ask them about it. That was the morning they went out to get more video footage.” He looked down at his food.

The cook came out with a steaming plate heaped with white samba rice smothered in chunks of a meaty fish with a yellow gravy. It smelled delicious.

“Would you like a fork?” Sebastian asked him.

“No, I’ve gotten pretty good with my fingers.” Tusker managed a weak smile, “Though I do eat with my left hand. I know that’s a no-no.”

Sebastian smiled and wobbled his head. “As you wish.”

“Did Upali show you any footage from the ROV?” Tusker said as he dipped his fingers, knuckle deep, into the curry. It was hot.

“He did show me some screen grabs. It sure looks like a warship, guns and all.” Sebastian replied. “Oh, he did mention one more thing that seemed odd,” Sebastian said as he rinsed the fingers of his right hand in a small bowl of water and lime. “The day they found the wreck, there was this big commercial diving ship anchored right over the spot. He asked if I knew anything about it or its owner. I said I didn’t. The crew seems to keep to themselves and stay onboard, even when they’re docked in Batticaloa, working on that harbor project.”

Tusker was wolfing down his curry, shoveling it inexpertly into his mouth from the plate. He stopped chewing. “What is the ship’s name?”

“The DSV Depth Charge,” Sebastian said.

“Rausing,” Tusker said and slid back his chair. He recalled the silver-haired man at the China Bay Club who’d taken such interest in the Taprobane.

“Yes, I think he’s the owner,” Sebastian said absent-mindedly. He had opened a laptop and was scrolling through GoPro video footage from that day’s diving on the Hermes with the Russians.

“I’d like to dive the Taprobane again tomorrow,” Tusker said. “Can you take me out? Maybe join me for the dive? I’d love to get your take on what I found this morning.”

“I’m afraid I’m back on the Hermes again tomorrow,” Sebastian said. “But Samanthi will be here and I’m sure she could go along.”

“OK, sounds good,” said Tusker. “I’ll find her in the morning. Good night, Sebastian.”

He got up and walked out of the dining area’s island of light and into the dark night. The path was hard to see and he stumbled. Something scurried away under his feet. He found Room 4, put the key in the lock, went in and shut the door behind him.

Across from Room 4, in the dark beneath the low-hanging branch of an almond tree, the orange tip of a cigarette sizzled to life and then dimmed.

Tusker flipped on the light and did his usual scan of the floor and walls for insects and reptiles. Nothing. He kicked off his cheap rubber slippers and switched on the ceiling fan. The room