“In all my years of naval service, I never dreamed that I would be privileged to see such a remarkable sight.” “I always said that the highly vaunted 688 class was overrated,” added Dubrinin.
“Captain,” interrupted the senior sonar technician, “I’m picking up internal noises inside the American sub. It sounds as if they’re getting ready to dive.”
Both Litvinov and his political officer raced to sonar, where the zampolit emotionally voiced himself.
“Your vigilance is needed more than ever, Misha, because we’ve come too far to lose them now. And besides, Admiral Valerian himself is presently monitoring our efforts.”
16
Ever since the fire in the hangar, a somber, almost funereal atmosphere prevailed inside Starfish House.
The aquanauts took the loss of the mini sub like that of a co-worker, and the team’s leader took it upon himself to boost their badly sagging morale. It was during lunch that Pierre Lenclud directly confronted the group, who had gathered around the dining room table.
“Mes amis, it’s time for all of us to come to terms with the fact that we will no longer have the services of our diving saucer. I know that all of us have grown dependent upon Misha, but now that must change. Until this great experiment is ended, we will have to get used to doing things ourselves, with no more excursions into the depths, and no additional muscle but our own. Can you live with that?”
“It doesn’t sound like we have much of a choice in the matter,” remarked Ivana.
“I relied on Misha more than any of you, yet I certainly don’t want to give up.
Even though I still think we’ve been the victim of deliberate sabotage.”
“I disagree,” countered Karl Ivar.
“I’m the only one to blame for that fire, and I take full responsibility for it.”
Ivana snickered.
“Comrade, your sentiments are noble, but your perceptions naive. It’s obvious that you don’t understand the ruthless nature of the forces that we’re dealing with.”
Before the Norwegian could respond to this, Pierre Lenclud slapped the palm of his hand hard against the table.
“Enough of this senseless bickering! It will get us absolutely nowhere. If this team is to survive intact, then we must put this incident behind us.”
“I’m with the Commandant,” concurred Lisa Tanner.
“So we’ve lost a valuable piece of machinery. Big deal. We’ve still got our life-support system, and all the other features of this underwater city. So let’s not go and lose our perspective, or we’ll ruin this once-in-alifetime opportunity.”
Tomo quickly got on the kiwi’s bandwagon.
“Well said, Lisa. I was looking forward to using the saucer to help me put up the walls of the fish pen. But I’ve been waiting five long years to attempt this experiment, and I’m quite prepared to do all the manual labor myself. I say forget Misha, and let’s continue with this great adventure while we have the opportunity to do so.”
“You won’t have to work on the fish pen by yourself, Tomo,” said Karl Ivar.
“I think I’ve figured out a way to raise those steel frames by utilizing a simple lever and our underwater winch.”
Pierre Lenclud appeared delighted with this news, and he exclaimed, “Now that’s the spirit!”
“Spirits?” squawked Uige, from his perch at the Frenchman’s side.
“Where’s the spirits? Where’s the spirits?”
“See what we get for having a lush for our mascot,” joked Lenclud, who broke out in laughter along with the rest of his teammates.
This served to break the tension, and even Ivana Petrov seemed to have her spirits lightened. For the first time in over a day, she smiled. And when she spoke, her very tone had changed.
“I guess that I have been taking this entire incident much too seriously, Comrades. I apologize, and promise to look beyond my own selfish goals, and reapply myself for the good of the project as a whole. Who knows what may be discovered right outside the doors of Starfish House.”
“Before we go and get too involved with a new project, mon amie, I’m going to need you to assist me in Habitat One. It’s time to recharge the compressor with helium, and then there’s another inventory to begin.”
Ivana warmly responded to this request. “Lead the way. Comrade Lenclud. And this time you can be my lookout for any prowling sharks in the area.”
“With pleasure, mon amie,” said the Frenchman with a relieved grin.
Thomas Moore didn’t know which would be the harder of his two tasks, briefing Captain Walden on his mission, or summoning the nerve to crawl into the Avalon. Much to his relief, he got through both of them with a minimum amount of stress.
No sooner did Moore return to the Rickover from this visit to the Academician Petravsky, when the captain called him into his stateroom. “I’ll make things as easy as possible, Moore stuck to the truth, and told Walden everything, from the first time he set eyes on the Lewis and Clark, to his encounter with Homer Morgan, and all that he had learned from Admiral Proctor back in Washington. He concluded by reaffirming his skepticism, but emphasizing the necessity of keeping an open mind and following every available lead to its end.
Walden had been a physics instructor at the Naval Academy, and had a previous knowledge of the Philadelphia Experiment. Also a skeptic, he nevertheless expressed his belief that the scientific principles behind Einstein’s theories were sound, and that a device that could render matter invisible, then teleport it to another location, was well within the boundaries of scientific possibility. Like Moore, he immediately dismissed the black-hole story as pure science fiction, and agreed that it was in the best interest of the investigation to deploy the DSRV with all due haste.
One factor that Moore hadn’t anticipated was that John Walden had been a personal friend of the Lewis and Clark’s skipper. They had served together on a past command, and Walden had even had dinner at his house several times. Genuinely saddened by his disappearance, Walden pledged his full support, and Moore left the stateroom ready for the next challenge.
He found the Avalon’s pilot in the wardroom, reading a worn copy of the Navy League magazine. Sea Power. Ned Barnes didn’t flinch as Moore explained to him just what he needed from the DSRV. To guarantee this operation’s secrecy, Barnes recommended that they deploy the Avalon while submerged, a good ten thousand yards from the Academician Petrovsky. That way it would be all but impossible for them to be discovered.
He also advised Moore to bring along a sweater, and a thermos of coffee if he so desired.
Moore took his expert advice on both counts, and ten minutes later was making his way up the stern access trunk. This was his first visit to a DSRV, and he was all eyes as he climbed through the transfer skirt and entered the main pressure capsule. Waiting for him was a skinny, bald-headed sailor with a drooping brown moustache and deep sunken cheeks.
“Afternoon, sir. I’m Chief Ollie Draper, the Avalon’s sphere operator. I’ll be operating the life-support system and manipulator controls.”
“Pleased to meet you, Chief. Is Lieutenant Barnes on board?”
“That he is, sir. You’ll find him in the cockpit, where you’ll also be sitting.”
The pressure capsule was dominated by a large sphere that could hold up to two dozen tightly packed crewmen in the event the DSRV was called upon to evacuate a distressed submarine. With only one way to go but forward, Moore crawled through a tight hatch, and found himself in an equipment-packed compartment which reminded him of an airplane’s cockpit.
Seated in the left-hand position, completely surrounded by dozens of glowing dials and gauges, was Ned Barnes. The grizzled pilot wore a set of blue coveralls, and a matching cap with the insignia of the Dallas Cowboys football team emblazoned on its bill. The seat to his right was vacant, and Barnes addressed the newcomer while going over his “preflight” checklist. “The only way to get yourself properly settled is by going in feet first. Grab those handholds above your head, and maneuver in that way.”