The senior torpedo technician approached.
“I was going to tell you, but he begged me not to. He’s not hurting anything. He just wanted to be close to his dolphins.”
“How long has he been… relocated here?”
“Ever since we brought the dolphins back, after we almost lost them.”
Floating in the centerline tank, each cetacean aimed a lazy eye into the ceiling as half of each animal’s brain stood guard over the sleeping half.
“And he wanted to be near them, even when he sleeps?”
“Right, sir. He’s even convinced the guys down here to grab food for him, though he hardly eats.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t asked for a chamber pot.”
The man looked away and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, he did, but the guys and I have our limits.”
The chronometer on the torpedo control station indicated the late afternoon.
“It’s an odd time for him to sleep,” Volkov said.
“He stood over his dolphins talking to them for a day straight,” the technician said. “The guys said he did it constantly. He hardly slept. He finally passed out for good about an hour ago.”
“Damn. I need him.”
“I thought we were giving up on the dolphins due to the Israeli tricks.”
“Perhaps,” Volkov said. “But perhaps not. I need Vasily’s perspective to be certain.”
“I’m afraid he’ll be useless until you give him at least a couple more hours.”
Volkov took another look at the motionless dolphins.
“Agreed,” he said. “I have some time I can give them for their recovery. I may as well let them all rest.”
After walking to his stateroom and allowing himself a short nap, Volkov refreshed himself with a shower and changed into a fresh version of the fleet’s uniform. The white starched shirt smelled soothing, and his beige chinos felt crisp.
He passed through the control room to verify the Wraith remained undetected, and then he returned to the torpedo room where the dolphins and their master continued their slumber.
He walked beside the weapon rack that cradled his crew’s oddest man. He cleared his throat, but the sleeper slept.
Then he whispered the trainer’s name.
“Vasily.”
He raised his voice.
“Vasily.”
The sleeper stirred.
“What is it, Mikhail?” he asked.
Volkov collected himself while stifling a chuckle.
“It’s not Mikhail, you fool. It’s Dmitry.”
“Dmitry? Yes? What?”
“Slowly, my friend,” Volkov said. “You were suffering from exhaustion and in a very deep sleep.”
The waking man jerked his torso upward.
“My babies?”
“They’re fine.”
As the trainer looked over Volkov’s shoulder at the tank, his face softened.
“Oh, there they are. So peaceful.”
“Indeed, they are,” Volkov said.
The trainer’s eyes became pained.
“But they failed, didn’t they? My babies are useless.”
“The Israelis certainly developed a potent countermeasure. That was unfortunate.”
“I should’ve seen this coming. I didn’t protect my babies.”
“I, too, should have seen it coming. As should have Jake, Terry, Pierre, and every other man who’s been benefiting from their efforts. You can’t blame yourself.”
“It’s easy for you to say that, but that’s not how I feel. If you had children of your own, I think you’d understand better.”
As the legitimacy of the trainer’s paternity claim swam in his head, Volkov willed his mind back towards his tactical needs.
“I think it’s possible that we can make your babies useful again, against anything the Israelis can conjure.”
“No, Dmitry. It’s impossible. They’ll use too many strange sounds to confuse them. Not just from submarines, but from surface ships, aircraft, or even sonobuoys. It’s not safe for them outside.”
Volkov mustered the courage to ask his partner in a fledgling friendship to risk his children.
“I have an idea to make them useful again.”
“I don’t know how that could be possible.”
“It’s possible. You remember how they followed your voice through the drone to get back to the ship?”
“How could I forget?”
“They could follow a drone and stay close to it while you speak to them.”
“I don’t like this.”
“You don’t want your babies to become relics, do you?””
“No, but I don’t want them to become corpses.”
“That won’t happen. I believe they’ll ignore all signals except the one coming from the same drone as your voice.”
The trainer shrugged and looked to his cetaceans.
“I imagine they would. They were so good when I brought them home.”
“They were remarkable.”
“But so many things could go wrong.”
Volkov attempted a soothing, paternal tone while trying to protect the dignity of his listener.
“Yes, you’re right, of course. According to Pierre, the Israelis are already dropping sonobuoys, and I wouldn’t be surprised if most of them are blaring out faked dolphin calls.”
“You see? There are so many distractions for them.”
“True, but sonobuoys are harmless, and every one of them eventually runs out of battery power.”
“Harmless? They could confuse my babies and lure them away from me forever.”
“Yes,” Volkov said. “Yes, they could. And then your babies would be lost to us but free to roam the seas.”
He let his gentle words linger and watched the trainer’s face soften as he absorbed them.
“Your point is that their accidental freedom would be an acceptable outcome?”
“Yes, if it comes down to it.”
“I don’t like it. Let me take them home and train them. I can teach them to avoid fake signals.”
“I don’t doubt that, but how long would it take? Years?”
“I don’t know, Dmitry. Why are you pushing so hard?”
“I want to avoid an exchange with even odds against the Revival while it’s shooting heavyweight torpedoes. The risk to its crew against our slow-kill weapons is much less than the death we face. In fact, with even odds, they could force a one-for-one exchange and celebrate it over drinks while we begin rotting in our watery tomb. I must have the odds in our favor.”
“Can’t we just turn back?”
Volkov scolded the trainer.
“Would you have me leave Jake to fight the Revival and the Crocodile, in addition to all the surface ships and helicopters?”
“Of course, not. But how can you be sure the Revival is even part of the blockade?”
“Pierre’s data feed says there aren’t any anti-submarine warfare helicopters in the blockade. That’s either an oversight on the part of the Israelis, or it’s a conscious decision to avoid the risk of fratricide with their own submarine.”
“So, maybe it’s an oversight.”
“What are the chances of an Israeli military oversight?”
“Fine, I see your point. But how can you hope to keep my babies from the Revival? If they get too close, they could be killed.”
“I’ve been developing tactics that will prevent that.”
After convincing the trainer to release his dolphins and verifying his submarine operated far from Israeli interference, Volkov leaned over the charting table and checked his assets’ positions for his test.
Icons showed two drones three miles abeam of the Wraith and vector lines showed each manmade object moving forward at four knots. The status of Andrei and Mikhail remained a matter of estimation and instinct as he’d had the machines maneuvered around the cetaceans.