Read The Dragon in the Sea Online
Authors: Frank Herbert
The Dragon in the Sea (13 page)
The room seemed to grow smaller around Ramsey, pressing in upon him.
Sparrow's losing touch with reality. I'll have to do something. But what?
He took deep breaths to calm himself, forced his mind to orderly channels.
I've been with Sparrow a week. I've observed him in all manner of stress. The big elements should be in my hands by now: enough to make some kind of a plan of action. What do we have here?
He made a mental list:
We started out with evidence of rigid self-control.
But only after we knew that he could react.
There is some indication of religious paranoia.
A tendency to paranoiac type was Obe's earlier classification.
But there are things that don't fit the pattern.
He thinks clearly in a stress situation where you'd expect a breakdown.
Extremely masculine type. A leader.
But not totally despotic, or even nearly so.
And he's a brilliant submariner. At times you'd think the boat was a part of him or vice versa. That he was a built-in component: Captain, Submariner type: Mark I. Portable.
Ramsey's back stiffened.
Part of the boat. Mechanical. What better way to describe rigid self-control?
Part of the boat. Mechanical. What better way to describe rigid self-control?
He recalled his own feeling of synchronous intermingling with the boat. Fleeting as that had beenâone instant in the shack. And then gone beyond recapture.
It'd be a strong survival adaptation.
Captain, Submariner type: Mark I. Portable. That may be closer than I'd imagined.
He rubbed at a burning sensation in his eyes, glanced at his wrist watch. Two hours until his next watch and he was aching with fatigue. He put away the telemeter, flopped sideways onto his bunk. Almost immediately, he was asleep and dreaming.
A giant surgeon with Sparrow's face bent over him in his dream. Little wires. Nerves. One here. One there. Soon he'll be built into the boat.
Electronics officer, Submariner type: Mark I. Portable.
It was Garcia's watch.
Timelog reading: eight days, four hours, and nineteen minutes from point of departure.
Bonnett on stand by, dozing on a tall stool in front of the control search board.
The
Ram
at cruising speed making twenty knots.
Ram
at cruising speed making twenty knots.
Garcia lounged against the guardrail in front of the valve master control, eyes idly taking in the gauges, now and then a glance at the autopilot indicator.
The search board emitted a soft buzzing.
Bonnett's head snapped up. He looked to the green face of the scope at his left, kicked the switch which automatically silenced the
Ram
's motors.
Ram
's motors.
They coasted quietly.
“What is it?” asked Garcia.
“Metal. Big. Coming our way.”
“One?”
“Dunno yet.”
“Is it an EP?”
His hand adjusted a dial and he looked to a gauge above it. “One. Coming fast like she owned the ocean. In these waters that means EP. Buzz the skipper.”
Garcia pushed a button on the call board.
Presently, Sparrow joined them, bending his tall figure for the aft doorway. He buckled his belt as he stepped across the control deck.
Bonnett nodded toward the search board.
The Ram's deck had been slowly tipping to starboard as she lost headway. Now, she was pointing down by the nose and the starboard incline was steep enough that Sparrow had to steady himself on the main grab-rail. He swept his gaze across the search board, asked, “How far to bottom?”
“Too far,” said Bonnett.
Garcia, one hand on the valve-board rail, turned toward them. “I hope you two decide what we're going to do before we turn turtle. We're almost at a standstill.”
Sparrow's gaze again went to the search gauges. The other sub was less than three miles distant, coming fast. As he looked, the detection equipment suddenly resolved its signal into two images.
“Two of them traveling tandem,” said Sparrow.
Through his mind sped a quotation from the tactical handbook: “Submarines stalking each other under the sea are like blindfolded adversaries with baseball bats, locked in a room together, each waiting for the other to strike.”
“They're going to pass inside of a thousand yards,” said Bonnett.
“If they hold their present course,” said Sparrow. “And that could be a trick to throw us off guard.”
“They must be asleep not to've spotted us before this,” whispered Garcia.
“Their metal-detection gear isn't too hot,” said Sparrow. He turned to Garcia. “Joe, drop four homing torps, five minutes delay, set to swing around in front of them. Then give us just enough push to get underway and take us down to absolute.”
Garcia's hands moved over the control board, adjusting a vernier, setting a dial. He slapped one hand against a switch, turned to the drive controls. The
Ram
picked up speed slowly, nose pointing into the depths. The deck righted.
Ram
picked up speed slowly, nose pointing into the depths. The deck righted.
Sparrow and Bonnett watched the detection gear.
“Drift,” said Sparrow.
Bonnett's hand swept over his drive switch. They floated downward silently.
“Give us a little more,” said Sparrow.
Again the engines took up their slow turning.
Garcia whispered: “They're not blind; they're deaf!”
Sparrow held up a hand to silence him. He glanced up to the big static pressure gauge; 2790 pounds to the square inch ⦠2800 ⦠2825 â¦
Slowly, the indicator hand swept around: 2900 ⦠2925 â¦
Above the gauge, the flat bronze plate stamped with the Ram's weight and specifications. Someone had used red paint to fill the indentations showing pressure limit: 3010 pounds.
The hand of the dial pointed to 2975 ⦠3000 â¦
Perspiration stood out on Garcia's face. Bonnett pulled
nervously at an ear lobe. Sparrow stood impassively, feeling the boat around him. “Ease her off,” he whispered. He wet his lips with his tongue.
nervously at an ear lobe. Sparrow stood impassively, feeling the boat around him. “Ease her off,” he whispered. He wet his lips with his tongue.
The knowledge of the outside pressure was like an actual physical weight pressing inward against his skull. He fought against showing his feelings.
The dial steadied at 3008, slowly climbed to 3004, stayed there.
Bonnett whispered, “They're almost on top of ourâ”
A dial fluttered wildly and they felt the
whump!
of a detonation through the hull. Sparrow's glance darted to the static pressure gauge: it made a stately fluctuation through 3028, back to 3004.
whump!
of a detonation through the hull. Sparrow's glance darted to the static pressure gauge: it made a stately fluctuation through 3028, back to 3004.
Garcia whispered, “I heard that the
Barracuda
took 3090 before she imploded.”
Barracuda
took 3090 before she imploded.”
“There's a bigger safety factor than that,” said Bonnett.
Sparrow said, “May the Lord take their souls and grant them mercy. Even as it may come to pass with us. God forgive us that we do this not in anger, but out of need.”
Garcia fingered the beads of his Rosary through his shirt.
A sudden thought passed through Sparrow's mind. He looked down at his first officer. “Les, what do you do when the heat is on?”
“Huh?” Bonnett glanced up at him, back to the dials.
“What do you think about?”
Bonnett shrugged. “I remind myself I been married four timesâfour beautiful babes. What more could a man ask?”
“Every man to his own philosophy,” said Sparrow.
Ramsey entered the control room, took in the scene,
whispered, “The silence woke me up. Are we hunting something?”
whispered, “The silence woke me up. Are we hunting something?”
“And vice versa,” said Garcia. “Get in here and help me on the board.”
“You were not called to duty,” said Sparrow.
Ramsey hesitated.
“Get in here with Les,” said Sparrow. “I'll stand by with Joe.” He backed away from the controls.
Ramsey stepped into the vacated spot.
Sparrow moved up to stand beside Garcia.
Bonnett looked at Ramsey out of the corners of his eyes. “I'll clue you in on something, Junior,” he said. “This is too much like playing grab-tail with a panther for me ever to become addicted to it.”
Sparrow said, “We can't be traced from the track of our fish. They were on a curving course before they could've been detected.”
“That second boy out there could've gotten a shockwave echo from the blast,” said Bonnett. “He's just drifting now. He's already put out his anti-torp volley and it shouldâ”
Three shock waves washed over them in rapid succession.
“That would be our fish being knocked out,” said Sparrow. “Any breaking up noises from that EP?”
“Negative,” said Bonnett.
“Then they have our position now from the echo,” said Sparrow. “Send out a detection scrambler and get our anti-torp volley off.” He slapped Garcia on the back, said, “Evasive action. Force speed.”
Ramsey standing beside Bonnett hit a series of switches
with the heel of his hand. A cloud of tiny torp-homing exploders swept out from the
Ram
.
with the heel of his hand. A cloud of tiny torp-homing exploders swept out from the
Ram
.
Bonnett kicked the control which sent out a dummy torpedo carrying signal equipment to scramble detection systems.
“Why couldn't I have taken a nice safe job in a nitrox factory?” Garcia moaned.
“You guys who want to live forever make me sick,” said Bonnett. “Here you are in a nice perambulating sewer pipe with pleâ”
“Up!” barked Sparrow. “If we get into close quarters I want a bigger pressure margin.”
Garcia complied. The deck slanted upward.
Ramsey said, “What makes you think ⦔
“We're coming out of that scrambler's field,” said Bonnett.
“Fire another along our forward path,” said Sparrow. Again he slapped Garcia's shoulder. “Right rudder and drift.”
Garcia pulled the wheel right, straightened it, shut down the drive. Slowly, the
Ram
lost headway. Again the deck tilted to starboard.
Ram
lost headway. Again the deck tilted to starboard.
“We've gotten sloppy on our trim,” said Sparrow.
Bonnett leaned toward Ramsey, whispered, “That guy's a genius. We coast along the edge of the first scrambler's field. The one we just sent out will leave a track for the other boys to follow and they'llâ” He broke off, staring at the detection system, eyes widening. “Skipper!” he husked, voice hanging on the edge of horror. “They're right on top of usâforce speed. Going overhead now. Not more than one hundred feet!”
Sparrow shouldered Garcia aside, kicked the
Ram
into force speed, swerved it into the wake of the other sub. To Bonnett, he said, “Keep us on their tail. Gently, friend ⦠gently.”
Ram
into force speed, swerved it into the wake of the other sub. To Bonnett, he said, “Keep us on their tail. Gently, friend ⦠gently.”
Garcia whispered, “I heard of this happening once with old
Plunger
, but I never thought I'd see it myself.”
Plunger
, but I never thought I'd see it myself.”
Ramsey said, “Their blind spot. They can't hear us in the turbulence of their own wake.”
Bonnett's voice came calm and steady: “Two degrees port.”
Sparrow swerved the
Ram
to follow.
Ram
to follow.
Ramsey pointed to the oscilloscope.
Bonnett followed the direction, said, “Skipper, off to starboard is a whole wolf pack. They're converging on that last scrambler we sent out.”
“Too close for comfort,” said Sparrow. With one hand he eased down drive speed; with the other he punched the controls to arm a torpedo. “Give me minimum range,” he said. “This has to be fast. As soon as the blast reaches us, fire scramblers to the four points of the compass.”
Bonnett acknowledged. “One hundred yards,” he said. “One twenty-five ⦠one fifty ⦠one seventy ⦔ He glanced to the secondary scope. “Any second now that pack will be getting two signals from us and one of the signals won't fit IFF. Two fifty ⦠two seventy-five ⦔
Sparrow fired the single torpedo, killed the drive, began counting: “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, elevâ”
The concussion shook the
Ram.
Ram.
Bonnett fired the scramblers.
Ramsey's ears were ringing.
Sparrow kicked on drive to force speed, brought the
Ram
about in a tight circle, coursing upward. With one hand, he pushed Garcia into the control position, stepped back. “They'll be expecting us to dive,” he said. “Blow the tanks.”
Ram
about in a tight circle, coursing upward. With one hand, he pushed Garcia into the control position, stepped back. “They'll be expecting us to dive,” he said. “Blow the tanks.”
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