Peace said softly to me, There's a temperature or salinity barrier blocking the sonar return-I think.' He paused. ' I don't think it's land.'
Then, as if ashamed of his confession of uncertainty, he ordered: Left fifteen degrees rudder. Come left to course zerofour-five. Decrease speed to ahead one-third.'
Peace had swung Devastation's nose in towards the barrier. Would he dare go in at this depth? Unconsciously, I turned to the person next to me. It was Adele. I whispered: Keep quiet!'
Ease her up-two-fifty feet,' said Peace.
I breathed again. With his deadly instinct, Peace was easing up on his target-whatever it might be. Rig for ultra-quiet!'
A pall of silence fell on all, on every machine not vital to the running of the sub. From the sonar-repeater came a curious, fogged thump like the sound of a distant diesel. Peters's eyes were wide with anxiety. The thump was followed by a sharp whining swish and a noise like brown paper being crumpled.
Possible goblin contact bearing one-zero-zero,' came the sonar-man's chant.
Goblin! Only a hostile submarine is called a goblin. Catandmouse-but Devastation had the edge, for she had gone ultraquiet first. The disembodied voice went on. ' Range twelve thousand yards. Approximate course zero-two-zero degrees, speed fifteen knots.'
A cold thrill of excitement passed through me as I watched Peace's hand reach out for the general alarm-button. He unhooked his command microphone with the other.
An unidentified submarine was passing across our bows at less than seven miles! We knew there were no friendly subs in the area.
Then came a faintly apologetic note in the sonar-man's voice. 'Contact now evaluated as giant ray.' He said to Peace, Sorry, sir, at first I thought it might be a one-thirty r. p.m. fish, but there was that extra something I couldn't account for'
Fish are a sonar-man's nightmare. The brown paper crum72 piing noise we had heard was probably a school of small fish and the sonar-man could be forgiven for being ultracautious. The operator went on, ' That doppler effect is still there, sir. It was clearer now, a curious sort of measured echo coming back to the transducer. The precision depth-recorder showed a steep shelf leading to the entrance slot.
Peace committed Devastation.
The ship was still rigged for ultra-quiet. Peters whispered, Bottom shaliowing rapidly, sir.
Peace went to the precision depth-recorder. I saw the twitch of his jaw muscles and his look of surprise. John, come over here, will you!'
The stylus had given up its St Vitus' Dance movements.
Instead, it was moving up, across, down, up, across, in regular patterns.
It's packed up,' I said briefly. No sea-bed ever looked like that.'
Peace shook his head. No. There are other instruments monitoring this one. It's okay.'
I peered closer. Traced on sensitized paper were a number of small rectangular blocks, followed by an intersection, and then the small blocks began again. When the stylus came opposite the next intersecting line, Peace gave an order and Devastation swung along the course of the plainly demarcated line. The stylus traced it straight, unfalteringly. We had 600 feet of water under our keel.
Peace then reversed course, and Devastation glided over the straight line being traced by the stylus. Then the precision depth-recorder started to rise vertically.
All stop! Rudder amidships!'
Speed zero,' reported the navigator.
The needlepoint of light under the chart was still. The planesmen sat quiescent in their red leather-backed bucket seats. There was a faint splash of water down the leaking periscope gland. All eyes were on Peace. At the ballastcontrol panel, the petty officer might have been a statue, hands extended to the multiplicity of switches in front of him.
Bring her up to five hundred feet-handsomely,' commanded Peace. Slowly, now. Stop her there.' The first mechanical noise I seemed to have heard in hours brought reassurance-the purr of a ballast pump. Like a Navy dirigible hanging over a suspect contact, Devastation drifted slowly upwards. Twenty feet, thirty feet. The stylus levelled off. 73
` Secure!' said Peace.
Devastation hung, a masterly example of touch-and-go. Whatever it was, was right under our keel. The pointer outlined a big flat slab.
Ahead one-third, one minute!'
The 15-foot propeller bit, turned, slowed. The stylus fell away, showing a gully, or way, about 25 feet in depth. The pattern on the sensitized paper was now one of big rectangular blocks divided by channels some 50 feet wide. Ease her down. Take it very easy.'
Again the quick purr of the pump, and a slight thump as
Devastation settled on the sea-bed.
Peace went to the periscope. His face was strained. By his skill he had already undertaken a manceuvre so delicate and so dangerous that few men afloat could have matched it. I remained, at the precision depth-recorder. What could those rectangular blocks be? They looked like fashioned pieces of concrete used for building breakwaters, except that they were ten times the size. Among the rectangles were bigger and smaller ones; only a few were square.
Up periscope!'
The periscope jockey flicked the control-lever and with a hiss like a spitting cat the long tube rose up, slowly, lethargically, thrusting against the outside sea-pressure. The leaky gland gave a spurt. The eyepiece with its double wooden handles emerged from the well. With the gesture I knew so well, Peace snapped down the handles and fiddled with the focus-lever. He gestured to me.
I put my face to the soft rubber eyepiece. I swung round. Darkness. Nothing.
At my elbow, Peace ordered, ` Turn on the sail floodlight.
Active television eye.'
I was still at the instrument. Automatically I put my eyes to the periscope.
I looked straight into the carving of a ship.
It lay, in sharp focus, in the middle of a carved pediment. The spotlight illuminated a small area. Carved pedimentbuilding-a city!
I knew then. I was looking at the ancient drowned city of Limuria.
The rectangular blocks were buildings, some big, some small. The channels between were streets.
Limuria!
My thoughts raced to something which had stuck in my mind from Mauritius. The Mauritius Institute recorded that when the first explorers set foot on the island-the Portu74 guese, about 450 years ago-they had found carved tablets in wax, inscribed with lettering which they thought to be Greek. Hands trembling, I swung the eyepiece round. Above the dim ship outline-could it be lettering?
I snapped up the handles and turned to Peace. The iv screen showed nothing beyond a murk of water. A city.. All eyes in the control room were on me. How could one tell?
I gestured silently to Peace. He went to the eyepiece, looked and withdrew. Our eyes met. There, lying on the steep rim of the slot, was what must once have been a harbour and, with the cataclysmic collapse of the ancient continent, it had half-slid down the steep side of the undersea mountain plateau.
We'll plot this,' said Peace in a quiet voice. This was perhaps what was meant by " The Flood ".
Down periscope!'
The sleek tube hissed into the well. Secure from ultraquiet.' There was a subdued whispering among the officers. Peace picked up the control-stand microphone.
Captain here. We have just made what may be a major ocean-floor discovery. I am about to carry out a gridsearch.' He clicked off the instrument. Bring her up to four hundred feet, handsomely. Grid pattern search. Ahead onethird.'