The Devil's Waters (18 page)

Through the honeycomb of steel, beneath the moan of the freighter’s engines, LB crept forward. He hid behind pillars, pausing, edging forward toward the source of the light. The glow did not waver, and the shadows it cast didn’t shift.

When he rounded the last corner into the cargo bay, he saw the source. A flashlight lay abandoned on the deck.

Instinctively, LB raised Bojan’s Zastava. He advanced slowly into the rim of light.

The spilled beam played across one more railcar standing alone, its large rectangular face wrapped like the others in a tarp. LB swept the Serb’s gun in a circle, scanning the blackness. He backed toward the railcar.

“Stop right there.” The voice bounced around the hard cargo bay, sounding as if it came from several mouths. LB quit backpedaling. “I’ve got a gun pointed at your head. Drop the rifle.”

He did not comply.

“Iris, it’s me. LB.” His own voice flew into the gloom, rattling in the dark.

“LB? What are you doing here?”

“I figure to ask you the same question. Come on out.”

Echoed footsteps preceded Iris. She emerged in her khakis and linen blouse. She carried no gun.

Iris Cherlina walked fast right at him. LB lowered the Zastava so she could walk into his arms.

“I’m so scared,” she whispered.

He wasn’t sure of the right pressure to put around her waist. She was a beautiful liar, and involved in something sneaky and international, way past his pay grade. He squeezed once, said, “Yeah,” then let her go. Iris backed off when he did.

“I’ll go first,” he said, “since I’m the one who really has a gun. What are you doing down here? What’s going on?”

Iris Cherlina picked up the flashlight she’d laid on the deck. She turned the light away from his eyes. “I went to my cabin to rest for dinner, like I said. But I was curious about that ship you and I saw off the bow at sunset. So I walked forward. I looked over the side and saw the pirates. It was incredible. Frightening. When I heard the alarm, I climbed down here to hide. I was lucky.”

“Why didn’t you tell somebody?”

She blinked at him, indulgent. “That defeats the purpose of hiding.”

“Where’d you get a master key?”

Around Iris, the engine hummed while, high above, pirates swarmed the ship.

“LB. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Too late.” He dropped the question to point at the mystery railcar behind her. “That’s yours, isn’t it? And all that back there. The drones, the radar.”

Iris didn’t nod, nor did she need to for him to know he was right.

She covered her mouth. “Is that blood on your shoulders?”

“Bojan’s been shot. I had to carry him.”

Iris spoke behind her fingers. “Oh my God. Are we safe? Did the pirates follow you?”

“They don’t know I’m down here. Last I saw, Drozdov and the crew were headed to the engine room to lock themselves in. I’m not sure if they made it. If they didn’t, the pirates are going to check the manifest and find out you’re missing. They might come looking. They’ll need a hostage.”

“And if they do?”

“If they come down here, they’re gonna find your Israeli hardware and whatever you got behind door number three over there.”

“What will you do?”

“Me? Haven’t got a clue. You’re gonna help me figure that out.”

“How can I do that, Sergeant?”

LB shouldered the big Zastava. He flicked on his own flashlight to spotlight a circle of the bare steel floor.

“Iris, sit.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to talk.”

“I can’t tell you anything. It’s all classified.”

LB firmed his tone. “Lady, do you understand what I do for a living? Everything I do is classified. I shit classified.”

“Not like this.”

“Sit.”

Iris folded her legs onto the carpet of light. With less grace, LB settled beside her. He laid the Zastava across his lap. While he spoke, he kept one ear trained into the darkness. If he could find Iris, the pirates could.

“Listen to me. I just looked at a few billion dollars’ worth of Israeli surveillance gear that I’m told is headed to Beirut. That makes no sense. I’m going to look under the tarp of that last railcar there, and I’m pretty sure that’s going to make no sense either. I find you standing in the middle of it all. I need to know what’s going on, and you’re gonna tell me.”

“Why should I do that?”

LB kept a rein on his voice, though he wanted to shout.

“Because it’s all been hijacked.”

Still, his volume made echoes, a chorus to tell him to quiet down. Barking at Iris wouldn’t help.

“Look at me. I’m a soldier. My country’s involved in this somehow. I need to know what I should do here. I’m operating way outside my orders. I have to decide whether or not to defend these railcars or just save my own ass and yours. So give it to me quick. And make it easy to understand.” LB pointed. “What’s under that tarp?”

“I’m sorry. That information is secret.”

“I’m looking at it, so it ain’t a secret anymore.”

Iris mulled this over too long. LB rose off the deck.

“Fine.”

He strode away from her voice calling for him to stop. Iris did not follow, which was smart.

LB cut a long slash in the tarp to make the point that he was aggravated. He stuffed his upper body in with the flashlight, blocked by the solid side of a wooden crate. He played the light over the labels spray-painted there in Cyrillic. This cargo wasn’t Israeli, but Russian.

He pulled himself farther inside the tarp, hopped up to climb above the wall, and sliced more tarp to give himself room. Outside the stuffy confines, Iris had come alongside to shout for him to stop. She would tell him what was inside. LB ignored her, figuring he’d have a stronger chance of getting the truth out of Iris if he saw firsthand what was inside.

With one more long zip of the blade through the roof of the tarp, he clambered over the side, to balance on a wooden cross-beam. Beneath his boots, packed tight, padded by foam, lay what looked like a thirty-foot-long engine block.

The thing was rectangular, gray steel, four feet high by three feet wide. The sides were solid plate, but the top featured twin rows of fist-size black bolts clamping it down like the head on a motor, maybe a hundred of them.

“Come down.” Iris hit him with her flashlight beam while he stood to consider what he was looking at. He kept his place above the machine.

The thing was bound to have a military application, judging by the drones and radar that accompanied it. It was long, straight, and seriously held together.

“It’s a gun,” he guessed.

“Yes.” Iris Cherlina cast her beam to the deck to light the way for him to climb down. “It’s a gun. Now get off it.”

LB eased down from the crate. He sat on the deck, setting his back against the railroad wheels to face the dark expanse of the hold. He patted the floor for Iris to join him; she folded neatly down, laying her flashlight inside the ring of her crossed legs so she glowed as if beside a campfire. LB rested the Zastava across his knees.

“Tell me. Plain terms. What is that? And who are you?”

Iris Cherlina lifted both palms. LB was no scientist, and she seemed unclear where to begin.

LB had little patience for her hesitation. “Just start.”

“All right. I’ll answer the personal question first. I am, as I told you, an electrophysicist. I worked at the Molniya machine-building plant in Moscow.”

“That’s weapons research. Nuclear.”

“Yes, it is. I am a weapons engineer. Molniya does more than nuclear.”

“So what are you doing on this boat?”

“I am merely accompanying this.” She tapped the back of her hand against the railcar. “I will assist in its installation. That is all. Then I really will take a position at another lab.”

“And what, exactly, is this?”

“An electromagnetic launcher.”

“Okay”—LB nodded—“okay. That’s a railgun. I’ve heard of that. The navy’s doing a lot of R&D on them.”

“Yes, I know. Your US Navy is not alone. Nor are they in the forefront.” Iris almost sniffed when she said this.

“You’re about to say Russia is.”

“And China. Our weapons research is not so strapped as yours with budget cuts, verification and safety issues.”

“Especially that safety thing. That can be a pain in the ass.”

Iris blinked. “Don’t behave like a child.”

“So the Russians haven’t lost interest in electrophysics, like you said.”

“That was a lie, Gus.” She patted his arm indulgently.

Iris Cherlina continued smoothly, not slowed by her admission or his attempts at wit. “Do you know how an EML works?”

He rummaged for some insight, something to speed the conversation, but dredged up nothing.

“Go ahead.”

“It’s a simple concept, really. Two rails of conductive metal are laid parallel. An electric current is introduced into one. This creates a positive magnetic field around that rail. The current crosses an armature sabot, to flow down the second, negative rail. The armature is designed to slide along the rails. The opposing magnetic fields generate a Lorentz force. This repels the armature in the direction away from the power source.”

LB whisked his hand into the air to imitate a launch. “That pushes out the shell.”

“With immense power.”

“How much?”

“That depends on the electricity applied. Your naval research lab expects that within ten years it will be able to fire a projectile over three hundred nautical miles at speeds up to Mach 8, with an accuracy of five meters. The power needed for this will be in the millions of amps. But imagine what will happen when the first nation’s warship puts out to sea equipped with a railgun. It will control a diameter of six hundred miles, sit at invincible distances, and pound targets on sea and land. Troops onshore won’t need to take their own artillery. This weapon will revolutionize warfare. And it gets better.”

LB finally recalled something he’d heard about railguns.

“No powder.”

Iris Cherlina smiled broadly, pleased.

“No explosive propellants. Railguns use only electricity. Ships will be safer. EM projectiles are more powerful. They’re smaller, lighter, even cheaper. And since there’s no chemical or thermal trace from firing an EM weapon, the rounds will be harder to track by an enemy.”

“Will it really work as well as all that?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then what’s the holdup? Why’s it ten years off?”

“Because in its current form, the EM gun can only fire once. Then it has to be rebuilt.”

“What happens?”

“When you run that much current through a conductive metal, a fraction of the electricity is turned into heat. The power needs of a railgun are so great, the heat generated is enough to melt the rails. Also keep in mind that the magnetic fields of the rails are opposing, so they push at each other with enormous force. Add the friction of the armature passing over them at such speeds, and you have a pitted, warped, ruined railgun after one shot. Maybe two.”

“So cool the rails somehow.”

“Your navy is experimenting with cryogenics, and redirecting the heat energy into the ocean. They’ve also played with liquid and vapor metals. They’re still ten years away.”

LB regarded the railcar at his back, the cut-up tarp over the bland-looking machine.

“But you Russians,” he said, pointing at the crate, “you’re taking it a different direction. That’s what this is.”

She smiled, a little ghastly in the flashlight spill but still very pretty.

“Very good. What else can you guess?”

LB brought the finger around to Iris. “Metals. That’s why you’re here. You’re working on better metals for the rails.”

“Among other things, but yes. Nanocrystalline structured composite powders of copper, titanium, and boron to improve the superconductivity of the metals. But even after we solve that, there are other obstacles. Guidance systems for the projectiles must be designed to survive the g-force loading with that kind of acceleration.”

“What is it, a couple hundred Gs?”

“A couple thousand.”

LB whistled.

“And the electricity required to launch a projectile at such distances and speeds is immense. Miniaturizing the power source is a huge challenge in making an EML deployable. Right now, the generators are the size of a car. And a wall of them is needed. So at the moment, only naval ships and static installations are possible.”

LB stood to stretch his legs. He walked away from the glow rising from the circle of Iris’s crossed legs, to gaze off into the blackness of the cargo hold.

“Lady, everything you just told me I can get off the Internet. That’s not classified.”

“That’s as far as I can go.”

“What about the drones? The radar?”

She dismissed the other railcars with a flick of her wrist. “I know nothing about them. I’ve never even looked under the tarpaulins.”

He walked another step away from her light. “You’re gonna have to do better.” LB spoke into the darkness, implying he might just keep walking. “Where’s it all going?”

“That’s the real secret, Sergeant.”

LB spun to stamp back to Iris Cherlina.

“You see this blood on my shoulders? One guy’s already taken a bullet for that secret. He didn’t know where this stuff was going either. But I’m not Bojan—it’s not my job to defend these machines. Mine is to defend my country. I got a suspicion the US is involved here somehow. But until I know for sure, I’m not sticking my neck out for somebody else’s undercover deal. Tell me who’s getting all this crap, or I go worry about myself and you’re on your own.” LB had bent at the waist to speak. He straightened to glare down at her. “Try me.”