The narrow cabin of the lobster boat smelled of stale coffee, diesel fuel, and warm electronics. Clara had laid out her tactical mapping tablet on the small folding table above the engine housing, its screen casting a sharp blue light across her scarred face.
Julian sat on the bench, his handheld transducer wired directly into the tablet’s microphone input port.
On the screen, the real-time spectrograph rendered the incoming frequency stream:
FREQUENCY: 14.2 HZ
AMPLITUDE: +4.8 DB (ASCENDING)
PROPAGATION VECTOR: CONTINENTAL SHELF MAINLAND SOURCE: DEEP STRUCTURE - NORTH SEA TRENCH
Clara leaned over the display, her thumbs pressing hard against the edge of the table. "This isn't an ocean transmission, Julian. This is a seismic ground wave."
"When we triggered the phase-cancellation loo
