“I don’t believe that I’ve ever seen a vessel quite like this one,” remarked Moore.
“That’s because it’s unique on all the seven seas,” said Alexandrov proudly.
“It was originally designed for oceanographic research, and is one of the newest research ships in the Russian fleet.”
Moore approvingly scanned the spotlessly clean deck.
“It’s most impressive. Would you mind a quick tour before I return to the Rickover?”
“I’d be glad to show you around myself,” offered Dr. Sorkin.
“That is, if Senior Lieutenant Alexandrov doesn’t mind.”
Though the Russian didn’t look exactly thrilled by this prospect, he nevertheless beckoned towards a hatchway leading below.
“Go ahead and enjoy yourself, Commander Moore. And when you’re done with your tour, perhaps you’ll join us in the wardroom for some breakfast.”
“Thanks for the offer,” replied Moore.
“But all I have time for is that tour before I have to start back.”
The Russian looked disappointed with this news.
“That’s too bad, Comrade. I’m certain that the other officers would enjoy meeting you.”
“Perhaps another time,” said Moore, who allowed Dr. Sorkin to take him by the arm and lead him to the ship’s interior.
They went below and began their way aft down a long central passageway.
“I’m flattered that your government thought enough about our project to send you out here to check on us,” remarked Sorkin as they passed by several spacious staterooms. “By the way, these are our cabins. Pretty luxurious, aren’t they?”
“I’ll say,” replied Moore.
“This sure beats the nine man berthing compartment I’m currently sharing.”
Sorkin went on to show him the vessel’s well equipped laboratory, which easily rivaled that of a small university. Moore met two other members of the U.N. team, an Indian scientist studying plankton dispersal, and an Italian, whose specialty was hydrography.
A trained oceanographer himself, Sorkin was studying the local reef corals, and determining how pollution was affecting their growth.
He seemed to take special pride in that portion of the ship positioned aft of the laboratory. A large rectangular opening to the sea had been cut into the hull.
Called the moon pool it was surrounded by a latticed steel catwalk, and currently held a pair of bright yellow, saucer-shaped mini subs floating on its surface.
Moore was interested to learn that one of the habitat program’s goals was self-sufficiency, and therefore these diving saucers were available only for emergencies.
Dr. Sorkin and his team had their services for research, and utilized this unique mode of exploring the sea floor whenever the crew’s schedule permitted.
Fascinated by the moon pool Moore walked down the catwalk until he reached a closed hatch cut into the after bulkhead. When he went to open this hatch, he found it locked, and his guide was quick to explain the reason. On the other side of this bulkhead was the reactor room, and for the safety of the team, this portion of the Academician Petrovsky was off limits.
Moore spotted a pair of thick rubber cables penetrating this same bulkhead and extending into the sea via the moon pool He kept this discovery to himself, and told his escort that he had seen enough.
During the trip topside, he couldn’t help pondering two disturbing thoughts. Because the Academician Petrovsky was powered by a diesel-electric propulsion plant, why was it outfitted with a nuclear reactor? And there were those twin cables to consider. Since the Mir habitat was supposed to be self-sufficient, they couldn’t be used as a power conduit, unless it was for a vastly different underwater project that even the U.N. observer team wasn’t aware of.
Though Moore would have liked to share his suspicions with his guide, he wisely held his tongue. Declining Sorkin’s offer of tea, he gratefully climbed to the outer deck, where he found two officers waiting for him beside the ladder leading to the gig. One was the ship’s senior lieutenant. The other was a tall, erect, distinguished-looking veteran, with a patch covering his left eye.
“Commander Moore, I’m Admiral Igor Valerian,” greeted the velvet-voiced flag officer.
“I understand that Dr. Sorkin has been giving you a tour of my ship. I do hope you found everything satisfactory.”
“That I did, Admiral. This vessel is most impressive, and it appears that you have been taking excellent care of Dr. Sorkin and his staff. I’ll make certain to pass on this fact to my superiors, and also relay the warmth of your hospitality, considering that this spur-of-the-moment visit took you by surprise.”
“It’s always nice to have visitors while at sea,” returned Valerian.
“Though it’s not often that they arrive on such a specialized mode of transport.”
Looking out to sea at this point. Valerian focused his gaze on the Rickover and added.
“I see that you’re carrying a DSRV, Commander. I hope that one of your submarines isn’t missing in the area.”
Quick to pick up the intentional irony in these words, Moore did his best to smile.
“The Rickover’s only carrying it for an exercise. Admiral. I wish that I could invite you aboard to have a closer look, but we’ll be sailing as soon as I return.”
“That’s too bad,” returned Valerian.
“I always did want to visit the vessel named after the father of your nuclear navy. Hyman G. Rickover was a great visionary, and from what I understand, a man who could get things done. Our own Admiral of the Fleet Sergei Georgiyevich Gorshokov, had similar talents. It’s tragic that neither of them lived to see this day of mutual military trust between our two great nations.”
“That it is. Admiral,” replied Moore, who went on to thank Dr. Sorkin for his time, and then began the short climb into the awaiting gig.
During the trip back to the Rickover, he pondered his impressions of the one-eyed Russian flag officer.
Admiral Igor Valerian had a supercilious, haughty manner. He seemed to be deliberately teasing when he made reference to the DSRV, and Moore got the distinct impression that he was referring to the Lewis and Clark, with his remark about a missing submarine in the area.
It was as he made the transfer over to the Rickover, that he decided how best to continue the investigation.
First he would give Captain Walden an intense briefing.
It could be dangerous to keep the Rickover’s CO in the dark any longer. Then his next move would be to take advantage of the Avalon’s presence.
With the DSRV’s invaluable assistance, he’d be able to find out just what it was that the Academician Petrovsky’s reactor was supplying power to.
“Down scope!” ordered Alexander Litvinov as he backed away from the periscope well.
“So, now we know the precise nature of the contact whose mysterious signature led us all the way from Port Canaveral,” said the grinning zampolit, who stood beside the nearby navigation plotting table.
“This is a momentous day. Comrade. To follow an American 688 class vessel, and have it completely unaware of our presence!”
“I’d be in a much better mood to celebrate if that 688 hadn’t been burdened with a DSRV on its back,” returned Litvinov.
“You’re being much too hard on yourself. Captain,” countered Boris Dubrinin.
“The moment we raised our scope and captured that Yankee attack sub on film, signaled a new era in the history of the red banner fleet. No longer are we disadvantaged by technological backwardness, for today, the hunter has become the hunted!”
Alexander Litvinov’s eyes couldn’t help gleaming with pride in response to this observation.
“I must admit that when I first looked through the scope, that surfaced 688 looked like an inviting target,” he thoughtfully reflected.