“And this Dr. Lansing is that portion of the ship we fondly call Defiance Power and Light. You just saw the reactor compartment. This is where it’s controlled from, and where the resulting energy is transformed into steam to turn our propellers and electricity to run almost everything else.”
Matt Colter stepped aside and beckoned his attractive guest to enter the maneuvering room before him.
Laurie Lansing readily did so, and soon found herself in a relatively cramped compartment dominated by a massive console filled with dozens of gauges, switches, and dials. Three seated figures were responsible for monitoring these instruments, though the newcomer’s entrance momentarily diverted their attention from them.
Quick to bring the three back in line was the deep, firm voice that emanated from the room’s shadows.
“What the hell’s the matter with you guys? Get your eyes back on the instruments where they belong or you burns will never qualify!”
As his men instantly complied, the tall, dark, solidly built figure of Lieutenant Frystak stepped forward to greet his guests.
“Good morning. Captain. And I presume that this is Dr. Lansing?”
“You presume right,” replied the civilian as she accepted the officer’s warm handshake. “I’m sorry about the interruption.”
“Lieutenant Frystak and his men here are the guys I rely on to keep the heart of this ship pumping,” said the captain. “And speaking of the devil, so far you’ve given me everything I’ve asked for and then some, Lieutenant.”
Frystak affectionately patted a nearby instrument panel.
“It’s all in a day’s work. Captain. We were able to survive our little disaster drill and keep on line even as we reacted to that simulated steam leak in the main condenser and the fire in the auxilliary turbine unit.”
“So I noticed,” returned the captain. “You and your men deserve a hearty job well done.”
Frystak humbly nodded.
“Thanks, Captain. And by the way Dr. Lansing, how is your work progressing?”
Laurie instantly liked the straightforward engineering officer, who reminded her of a college schoolmate.
“We’ll know for sure soon enough, once the captain gives the order to surface. As of this moment, all the installation and reprogramming have been completed. Now begins the hard part, the waiting.”
“Any new system is going to have its bugs,” reflected Frystak. “If the theory’s correct, you’ll get it right eventually.”
“I hope a lot sooner than that,” retorted Laurie.
Matt Colter grinned.
“If Lieutenant Frystak and his men can keep these engines purring away as they have been, you’ll have that chance soon enough. Doctor. Now, how about having a look at the engine room? I’m sure the men there won’t mind a little company, will they, Lieutenant?”
Well aware of the crew’s undying curiosity whenever the subject of their civilian passenger came up, Frystak responded.
“I don’t think they’ll mind at all, Captain. Shall I ring the chief and let him know that you’re coming?”
Shaking his head that this wouldn’t be necessary, Colter escorted his guest through the aft hatchway.
This brought them directly into the engine room. The cavernous compartment was brightly lit, and Laurie could clearly view the massive gray turbines and the vessel’s single propeller shaft. Though the size of the equipment was impressive, its quietness was even more so.
“I thought it would be a lot noisier in here. Captain. And with all this heavy machinery crowded together like it is, what would happen if something went wrong with one of the machines buried on the bottom of all that gear?”
Matt Colter was quick with an answer.
“Practically every piece of heavy machinery you see before you can be hoisted out with a block and tackle and subsequently repaired. From the Nautilus onward, this was a feature each one of our nuclear subs was designed around. I’ve seen the wooden scale models myself, that were built showing each piece of equipment and every square inch of piping in this compartment. Such mock-ups were constructed to make certain that no piece of equipment was inaccessible.”
By this time, a small group of grease-stained sailors had realized they had company. As they did their best to tidy themselves up, they hesitantly approached the newcomers. Leading this group forward was a potbellied, crewcut sailor wearing a filthy white T-shirt.
“Good morning to ya’, Captain,” the first man said as he hitched up his trousers and tucked in the tail of his T-shirt.
Noting that the chief and his crew were unusually quiet and reserved. Matt Colter proceeded with the introductions.
“Dr. Lansing, I’d like you to meet Chief Engineer Joe Cunnetto and the best bunch of grease monkeys in the entire US Navy.”
Only after he was certain his palms were clean did the chief shyly step forward and offer his hand.
“Me and the boys would like to welcome you aboard the Defiance, Doc Lansing. Please feel free to visit anytime, day or night, that you get the hankering.”
“Why thank you. Chief,” Laurie responded. Then she pointed toward the compartment’s aft bulkhead. “Do you mind if I take a look at the way the shaft penetrates the hull? I’ve always wondered what type of seals you utilized to keep the sea out.”
Genuinely surprised by this request, Chief Cunnetto beamed proudly.
“Why of course. Doc. I’d love to show you.”
His men were gathered in a tight group close behind the chief, and when Cunnetto pivoted he practically tripped right over them.
“Don’t you good-for-nothings have some work to do? At the very least you could give a guy a little breathing room,” the chief complained.
Matt Colter fought to hold back his laughter as the sailors proceeded to trip over each other while they attempted to disperse. Yet the captain’s moment of levity was abruptly cut short by a piercing, high-pitched warbling tone, whose distinctive sound filled Colter with instant dread.
“It’s the collision alarm!” cried the chief at the top of his lungs. “To your stations, men!”
Madly grabbing out for the nearest intercom handset, the captain took in the frantic words of the Defiance’s current OOD, Lieutenant David Sanger.
“It’s another submarine. Captain! It came up on us from out of nowhere and—”
The OOD’s report was cut short by a bone-jarring collision that sent Matt Colter crashing hard to the deck. A deafening, screeching noise filled the engine room as the lights blinked off and the Defiance canted hard on to its left side. Blindly groping out in the darkness for something solid to hold on to, Colter slid hard into a prone figure pinned up against the iron railing that lined that portion of the elevated catwalk. As he tightly gripped this figure’s lean torso in an effort to keep from sliding off the passageway altogether and go slamming into the machinery stored below, an unfamiliar perfumed scent met his nostrils. And in that instant he realized that his savior was none other than Dr. Laurie Lansing.
Loosening his grip a bit. Colter knew he could do absolutely nothing until the hull stabilized and he could safely stand. Yet he did manage to whisper some words of encouragement to the woman he found himself so desperately clinging to.
“Hang in there. Doctor. This ship’s built tough and we’re not licked just yet.”
As if to emphasize these words, the emergency lights popped on, and the first thing Matt Colter’s eyes were able to focus on was the pale, terror-filled face of his civilian passenger. Doing his best to control his own panic, the captain managed a brave smile.