Read The Dragon in the Sea Online
Authors: Frank Herbert
The Dragon in the Sea (4 page)
Instructions from the final Security session jangled through his mind.
“Your crew has the top Security rating of the service, but you must remain alert for sleepers.”
“In my crew? Hell, man, I've known them all for years. Bonnett's been with me eight years. Joe Garcia and I served together before the war. Heppner andâ” His face had crimsoned. “What about the new E-officer?”
“You won't need to worry about him. Now, the inspectors assure us there are no enemy signal devices aboard your boat.”
“Then why this gadget in my neck?”
“That's just an added precaution.”
“What about this new man? What's his E-rating?”
“He's one of the best in the service. Here, look at his record.”
“Limited combat experience in gulf patrol! He's practically a dryback!”
“But look at his E-rating.”
“Limited combat!”
A jitney driver shouted at Sparrow, bringing him out of his reverie. He glanced at his wrist watch: 0738âtwentytwo minutes until castoff. His stomach tightened. He quickened his steps.
Damn Security's last minute details!
Across the ebony velvet of the mooring pool he could see the glow tubes outlining the marine tunnel. Down the 160-mile slant of that tunnel, out into the underwater deeps of De Soto Canyon and the Gulf of Mexicoâand beyondâranged the enemy. An enemy grown suddenly, terrifyingly, one hundred percent effective against vessels such as his.
It came to Sparrow that the marine tunnel formed a grotesque birth canal. This cavern carved under a Georgia mountain was nestled in the earth like a fantastic womb. When they took their vessel out to do battle they were born into a terrible world that they did not want.
He wondered what BuPsych would think of an idea like that.
They'd probably rate it as an indication of weakness, he thought. But why shouldn't I have a weakness? Something about fighting a war a mile and a half under the oceanâthe unrelenting pressure of water all aroundâexposes every weakness in a man. It's the pressures. Constant pressures. Four men isolated in pressure, held in a plasteel prison as they are held in the prisons of their souls
.
They'd probably rate it as an indication of weakness, he thought. But why shouldn't I have a weakness? Something about fighting a war a mile and a half under the oceanâthe unrelenting pressure of water all aroundâexposes every weakness in a man. It's the pressures. Constant pressures. Four men isolated in pressure, held in a plasteel prison as they are held in the prisons of their souls
.
Another jitney scurried across Sparrow's path. He dodged, looked up at his boat. He was close enough now to make out the name plate on the retractable conning tower high above him:
Fenian Ram S1881
. The boarding ramp swooped down from the tower in a long, graceful curve.
Fenian Ram S1881
. The boarding ramp swooped down from the tower in a long, graceful curve.
The dock captain, a moonfaced lieutenant commander in fatigues, hurried up to Sparrow, a check list in his hands.
“Captain Sparrow.”
Sparrow turned without stopping. “Yes? Oh, hullo, Myers. Are all the ready crews off?”
Myers fell into step beside him. “Most of them. You've lost weight, Sparrow.”
“Touch of dysentery,” said Sparrow. “Got some bad fruit up at Garden Glenn. Has my new electronics officer showed up?”
“Haven't seen him. His gear came along earlier. Funny thing. There was a sealed box with his stuff. About so by so.” He gestured with his hands. “Cleared by Admiral Belland.”
“ComSec?”
“None other.”
“Why was it sealed?”
“It's supposed to contain some highly delicate instruments to monitor your new long-range search equipment. It was sealed so no zealous searcher could foul the works.”
“Oh. I take it the new long-range gear is installed?”
“Yes. You're battle-checking it.”
Sparrow nodded.
A cluster of men at the foot of the boarding ramp snapped to attention as the two officers approached. Sparrow and Myers stopped. Sparrow said, “At ease.”
Myers said, “Sixteen minutes, Captain.” He held out his hand, shook with Sparrow. “Good luck. Give'em hell.”
“Right,” said Sparrow.
Myers headed for the foot of the dock.
Sparrow turned toward a heavy-bodied, hawk-faced man beside the ramp, First Officer Bonnett. “Hi, Les.”
“Good to see you, Skipper,” said Bonnett. He tucked a clip board under his left arm, dismissed three ratings who were with him, turned back to Sparrow. “Where'd you and Rita go after the party?”
“Home,” said Sparrow.
“So'd we,” said Bonnett. He hooked a thumb toward the submarine behind him. “Final safety inspection's completed. Spare gear checked out. But there's a bit of a delay. Heppner's replacement hasn't reported.”
Sparrow cursed inwardly, felt a stomach-gripping surge of frustration-anger. “Where is he?”
Bonnett shrugged. “All I know is that Security called and said there might be some delay. I told themâ”
“Security?”
“That's right.”
“Suffering Jesus!” barked Sparrow. “Do they always have to wait until the last minute? They had meâ” He broke off. That was classified.
“They said they'd do their best,” said Bonnett.
Sparrow pictured the complicated arrangements which would pass the
Fenian Ram
through their own defense network outward bound.
Fenian Ram
through their own defense network outward bound.
“It could take another day to set up a new passage time.”
Bonnett glanced at his wrist watch, took a deep breath. “I told them 0800 was the latest. They wouldn't answer a damned one of myâ” He fell silent as the ramp beside them rattled to descending footsteps.
Both men looked up, saw three figures coming down: two ratings carrying heavy-duty electronics detection gear, followed by a short, wiry man with dark Latin features. He wore stained service fatigues, carried a small electronic search box under his right arm.
“Don José Garcia,” said Sparrow.
Garcia shifted the search box to his left arm, stepped down to the dockside. “Skipper! Am I glad to see you!”
Sparrow moved back to permit the ratings to pass with
their load, looked questioningly at the search box under Garcia's arm.
their load, looked questioningly at the search box under Garcia's arm.
Garcia shook his head. “For God and Country,” he said. “But sometimes I think I overdraw my account with God.” He crossed himself. “The Security chaps have had us at this floating sewer pipe half the night. We've been over it from stem to stern four distinct times. Not a blip. Now, I say to you: they want me to make another search after we get underway down tunnel!” He raised his eyebrows. “I ask you!”
“We'll have to do it,” said Sparrow. “I've allowed time before our first contact point for total deep-dive inspection.”
“I say,” said Garcia. He grinned. “You know, I've already gone and rigged for it.”
Sparrow answered the grin, felt some of the tensions inside him begin to unknot.
Bonnett glanced significantly at his watch. “Twelve minâ”
The whine of a command jitney's electric motor intruded upon him. All three men turned toward the sound. It came down the dark line of mooring slots, its single light casting an erratic Cyclops gleam upon the damp concrete. The jitney swerved up to the ramp, jerked to a stop. A redheaded man with round, innocent face sat beside the driver, clutching his uniform cap in his hands.
Sparrow saw ensign's bars on the man's collar, thought:
That will be my new E-officer.
Sparrow grinned at the man's obvious relief up on a safe arrival. The recklessness of the base jitney drivers was a standard service joke.
That will be my new E-officer.
Sparrow grinned at the man's obvious relief up on a safe arrival. The recklessness of the base jitney drivers was a standard service joke.
The new man put his cap over his red hair, stepped out of the jitney. The machine rebounded from his weight. The driver whirled the jitney back the way they had come.
The ensign stepped up to Sparrow, saluted, said, “I'm Ramsey.”
Sparrow returned the salute, said, “Glad to have you aboard.”
Ramsey handed his service record to Sparrow, said, “No time to send these through channels.”
Sparrow passed the papers to Bonnett, said, “This is Mr. Bonnett, first officer.” He turned to Garcia. “Mr. Garcia, engineer.”
“Good to meet you,” said Ramsey.
“We'll soon dissuade you of that illusion,” said Garcia.
Sparrow smiled, offered his hand to Ramsey, was surprised to feel strong muscle in the new man's grip. The fellow just
looked
soft. Bonnett and Garcia also shook hands.
looked
soft. Bonnett and Garcia also shook hands.
Ramsey was busy cataloguing his first visual impressions of the three men in the flesh. It seemed strange to be meeting these people for the first time when he felt that he already knew them. And that, he knew, would have to be concealed. Odd bits of knowledge about the personal lives of these menâeven the names of their wivesâcould not be in the memory of a new man.
“Security said you might be delayed,” said Sparrow.
“What's got Security on its ear?” asked Ramsey. “I thought they were going to dissect me.”
“We'll discuss that later,” said Sparrow. He rubbed at the thin scar on his neck where the Security surgeons had imbedded the detection-system speaker. “Castoff is 0800. Mr. Garcia will take you aboard. Get into fatigues. You'll be assisting him in a final spy-beam inspection as we get underway.”
“Yes, sir,” said Ramsey.
“Your gear came along hours ago,” said Garcia. He took Ramsey's arm, propelled him toward the ramp. “Let's get with it.” They hurried up the ramp.
Ramsey wondered when he could break away to examine his telemeter box. He felt an anxietyâa need to study the first records on Sparrow.
That mannerism of rubbing his neck
, thought Ramsey.
Extreme nervous tension well concealed. But it shows in the tight movements
.
, thought Ramsey.
Extreme nervous tension well concealed. But it shows in the tight movements
.
On the pier, Sparrow turned to look across the mooring basin at a string of moving lights. “Here comes our tow, Les.”
“Do you think we'll make it, Skipper?”
“We always have.”
“Yes, butâ”
“âFor now is our salvation nearer than when we believed,'” said Sparrow. “âThe night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.'” He looked at Bonnett. “Paul wrote that to the Romans two thousand years ago.”
“A pretty wise fellow,” said Bonnett.
A bos'n's whistle sounded at the head of the dock. A swifty crane came darting up to take away the boarding ramp. Ratings hurried to attach the hooks, looked inquiringly at the two officers.
Men hurried along the pier, a new purposefulness in their movements. Sparrow swept his gaze over the scene. “We're being asked to perform,” he said. He gestured for Bonnett to precede him up the ramp. “Like the man said: Let's get with it.”
They climbed to the conning tower. Bonnett ducked for the cable rack which mounted the float for their TV periscope. As a matter of routine, he glanced at the housing, saw that it was secured for dive. He grasped the ladder arms, slid down into the subtug.
Sparrow remained topside. Around him, the mooring basin appeared a vast lake. He looked at the rock ceiling's blackness.
There should be stars,
he thought.
Men should get one last look at stars before they go under the sea.
he thought.
Men should get one last look at stars before they go under the sea.
On the pier below, scurrying figures moved to cast off the magnetic grapples. For a moment, Sparrow felt like a useless pawn being thrown into a sacrifice position. There had been a time, he knew, when captains conned their vessels away from the dock, shouting orders through a megaphone. Now, it was all automaticâdone by machines and by men who were like machines.
A surface tug swung up to their bow, slapped its tow grapples onto them. White water boiled from beneath the tug's stern. The
Fenian Ram
resisted momentarily, as though reluctant to leave, then began a slow, ponderous movement out into the basin.
Fenian Ram
resisted momentarily, as though reluctant to leave, then began a slow, ponderous movement out into the basin.
They cleared the slot, and another tug slid alongside their stern. The magna-shoe men leaped onto the
Ram
's silencer planes, hitched the tow and guide cables of the long plastic tube which stretched out across the dark water of the basin. Their shouts came up to Sparrow in the tower like the clear noise of children. He tasted a sudden oil-tainted breeze and knew they had crossed the path of a ventilator duct.
Ram
's silencer planes, hitched the tow and guide cables of the long plastic tube which stretched out across the dark water of the basin. Their shouts came up to Sparrow in the tower like the clear noise of children. He tasted a sudden oil-tainted breeze and knew they had crossed the path of a ventilator duct.
No special fanfare, no brass bands, no ceremony for the departure of a raider
, he thought.
We are as a reed shaken
with the wind. And what go we out into the wilderness to see? No John the Baptist awaits us. But it's a kind of baptism all the same.
, he thought.
We are as a reed shaken
with the wind. And what go we out into the wilderness to see? No John the Baptist awaits us. But it's a kind of baptism all the same.
Somewhere in the darkness a klaxon hooted.
Turn and identify the man next to you. Another Security scheme: Show your identification when the horn sounds. Damn Security! Out here I identify myself to my God and none other.
Turn and identify the man next to you. Another Security scheme: Show your identification when the horn sounds. Damn Security! Out here I identify myself to my God and none other.
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