The Dragon in the Sea (9 page)
Read The Dragon in the Sea Online
Authors: Frank Herbert
Garcia said, “Under the circumstances, yes.” He closed the tunnel door, dogged it, stepped into a decontamination chamber and emerged without a suit.
Bonnett swung up to the central catwalk, anchored the hoist's load with a side line, returned to the lower deck and reeled out the detergent hoses. He began to spray the area.
Sparrow and Garcia mounted to the catwalk beside Ramsey.
“We'll surface at midnight local time for burial,” said Sparrow. He went aft through the number-one door without glancing up at the bundle swinging from the hoist.
Ramsey, watching Bonnett at work below him, again
had the feeling of looking at a marionette show.
Last act, scene one.
had the feeling of looking at a marionette show.
Last act, scene one.
Garcia, beside him, said, “My watch coming up. I'll take it on the main control deck.” He released Ramsey's portable board from the rail, carried it up to the central catwalk, ducked through the door in the aft bulkhead.
Ramsey followed, turned at the door for one last look at the long bundle swaying in the hoist net: a body in a sack. He turned, passed through the control room, went directly to his quarters and pulled out the telemeter tapes.
No significant deviations!
He coded the tapes for identification, placed them in the false bottom, lay back on his bunk. Around him he could feel the faint vibrations of the subtug: a feeling as of life. He seemed to fit into the pattern of the room, one with the crisscross of pipes overhead, the ventilator ducts, the repeaters for the electronics-shack instruments, wall mike and speaker.
Presently, he fell asleep, dreamed that he was a deep-dwelling fish trying to figure out a way to climb to the light of the surface far away above him.
The problem was that a terrible pressure held him trapped in the deeps.
At midnight they committed the body of Lieutenant Foss to the ocean. A cold, starless night, a high-running sea. Ramsey stood shivering on the deck while Garcia mumbled the service for the dead.
“Into Thy hands we commend this spirit.”
For Lieutenant Arthur Harmon Foss; last act, last scene.
Afterward, they homed into the depths as though fleeing the scene of a crime. Ramsey was startled by the faraway look in Sparrow's eyes, heard the captain whispering the lines from the first chapter of Genesis:
“â ⦠and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters ⦠.'”
From some recess in his memory, Ramsey recalled the next lines: “âAnd God said, Let there be light: and there was light.'”
Ramsey thought:
If there is a God, let Him make things right for that brave guy
. It was his nearest approach to a prayer since childhood. He was surprised at the stinging sensation in his eyes.
If there is a God, let Him make things right for that brave guy
. It was his nearest approach to a prayer since childhood. He was surprised at the stinging sensation in his eyes.
Then another thought mingled with the memory of Garcia's voice:
And what if Garcia is the sleeper?
And what if Garcia is the sleeper?
The thought spurred him to hurry into the electronics shack, examine the contaminated tunnel through the internal scanners. The scanners showed only the pile-room end. Nothing appeared amiss. Ramsey activated one of the control-room scanners to check on Garcia. The engineering officer was bent over the portside grab rail, knuckles white from the pressure of his grip upon the rail, his forehead pressed against the cold metal of the pressure hull.
He looks ill,
thought Ramsey.
I wonder if I should go down and relieve him?
thought Ramsey.
I wonder if I should go down and relieve him?
As Ramsey watched, Garcia straightened, slammed a fist against the hull surface so hard his knuckles bled. The
Ram
took this moment to tip slightly from the thrust of an undersea current. Garcia whirled to the controls, corrected for the deflection. Ramsey could see tears streaming down his face.
Ram
took this moment to tip slightly from the thrust of an undersea current. Garcia whirled to the controls, corrected for the deflection. Ramsey could see tears streaming down his face.
Abruptly, Ramsey switched off his screen, feeling that he had eavesdropped upon the workings of a man's soul and that it was wrong to have done so. He stared at his hands, thought:
Now that's a strange reaction for a psychologist! What's come over me?
He reactivated the screen,
but now Garcia was calmly going about the business of his watch.
Now that's a strange reaction for a psychologist! What's come over me?
He reactivated the screen,
but now Garcia was calmly going about the business of his watch.
Ramsey returned to his quarters with the strong sense that he had blinded himself to something vital. For almost an hour, he lay awake on his bunk, unable to resolve the problem. When he fell asleep it was to sink again into the dream of the fish.
He awoke to his next watch with the feeling of not having slept at all.
There had been a time when people thought it would solve most seafaring problems to take ocean shipping beneath the surface storms. But, as had happened so many times in the past, for every problem solved a new one was added.
Beneath the ocean surface flow great salt rivers, their currents not held to a horizontal plane by confining banks. The 600 feet of plastic barge trailing behind the
Ram
twisted, dragged, and skiddedâcaught by currents flowing through 60 degrees at right angles to their course. If the current set downward, the
Ram
tipped upward and had to fight against the climb. If a current took the tow upward, the
Ram
headed down. Variations often gave the subtug's deck a stately rolling and tipping as though the vessel were beset by a slow-motion storm.
Ram
twisted, dragged, and skiddedâcaught by currents flowing through 60 degrees at right angles to their course. If the current set downward, the
Ram
tipped upward and had to fight against the climb. If a current took the tow upward, the
Ram
headed down. Variations often gave the subtug's deck a stately rolling and tipping as though the vessel were beset by a slow-motion storm.
Automatics took care of most of the deflections, but many were sufficient to cause wide course error. Because of this, a portable gyro repeater always accompanied the man on duty.
Bonnett carried such a repeater on his remote-control panel as he prowled the engine room during his watch. The
little timelog repeater beside the gyro dial showed seven days, eight hours, and eighteen minutes from departure. The
Ram
had moved forward deep into the ocean no man's land south of Iceland.
little timelog repeater beside the gyro dial showed seven days, eight hours, and eighteen minutes from departure. The
Ram
had moved forward deep into the ocean no man's land south of Iceland.
Maybe it'll be a milk run, he thought. For all our detectors have shown, we could be alone in the whole damned ocean.
He fell to remembering the night before departure, wondered if Helene was really faithful to him.
So damned many Navy wives â¦
He fell to remembering the night before departure, wondered if Helene was really faithful to him.
So damned many Navy wives â¦
An amber light glowed at the upper corner of his board, the signal that someone had entered the control room. He spoke into his chest mike: “I'm on the second-level catwalk in the engine room.”
Sparrow's voice came out of the board speaker: “Continue as you are. I'm just restless. Thought I'd look around.”
“Right, Skipper.” Bonnett turned to examine the master control gauges on the reactor bulkhead. Ever since they'd found the dead Security officer, Bonnett had been nursing an uneasy feeling about the room in the subtug's nose.
A sudden needle deflection on his control board caught his attention. The outside water temperature had dropped ten degrees: a cold current.
Ramsey's voice came over the intercom: “This is Ramsey in the shack. My instruments show a sharp ten-degree temperature drop outside.”
Bonnett thumbed his mike switch: “What're you doing up and about, Junior?”
“I'm always nervous when it's your duty,” said Ramsey. “I couldn't sleep, so I came in here to run an instrument check.”
“Wise guy,” said Bonnett.
Sparrow's voice joined them: “Find out how deep it is, Ramsey. If it doesn't extend below our limit, we can hide under it and pick up speed. Ten degrees will cloud a lot of noise.”
“Right, Skipper.” Pause. “Sixty-eight hundred feet, give or take a few.”
“Les, take her down,” said Sparrow.
Bonnett racked his control console onto the catwalk railing, took electronic hold of the diving planes. Abruptly, his static pressure gauge repeater showed what his sense of balance already had told him: they were going down too fast; an upcurrent was following them, lifting the tow. Bonnett fought it until they were inclined at a safe three degrees.
The
Ram
leveled at 6780 feet.
Ram
leveled at 6780 feet.
In the shack, Ramsey looked at his own repeater for the master pressure gauge: 2922 pounds to the square inch. Instinctively, his gaze went to the pressure hull beside himâa small length of it seen through a maze of pipes and conduits. He tried to fight away from the thought of what would happen if the hull should implode: bits of protein pulp floating amidst shattered machinery.
What was it Reed had said?
It came back to Ramsey clearly, even to the impersonal tones of his instructor's voice: “An implosion of external equipment at extreme depths may set up a shock wave which will split your hull wide open. Of course, it'd be all over for you before you'd hardly realized what happened.”
It came back to Ramsey clearly, even to the impersonal tones of his instructor's voice: “An implosion of external equipment at extreme depths may set up a shock wave which will split your hull wide open. Of course, it'd be all over for you before you'd hardly realized what happened.”
Ramsey shivered.
What is Sparrow's reaction to the increased danger?
he wondered. Then:
I don't really care as long as his ability
he wondered. Then:
I don't really care as long as his ability
This thought shocked Ramsey. He suddenly looked
around his electronics shack as though seeing it for the first time, as though he had just awakened.
around his electronics shack as though seeing it for the first time, as though he had just awakened.
What kind of a psychologist am I? What have I been doing?
As though answering a question from outside himself his mind said:
You've been hiding from your own fears. You've been striving to become an efficient cog in this crew because that way lies a measure of physical safety.
You've been hiding from your own fears. You've been striving to become an efficient cog in this crew because that way lies a measure of physical safety.
What am I afraid of?
he asked himself.
he asked himself.
Back came the answer:
You're afraid of your own personal extinction.
You're afraid of your own personal extinction.
“It'd be as though I'd died
en utero,”
he said, speaking the thought softly to himself. “Never born at all.”
en utero,”
he said, speaking the thought softly to himself. “Never born at all.”
He found that he was trembling, bathed in perspiration. The plug holes of the test board in front of him seemed to stare backâa hundred demanding eyes. He suddenly wanted to scream, found he couldn't move his throat muscles.
If there was an emergency now, I'd be helpless,
he thought.
I couldn't move a finger.
he thought.
I couldn't move a finger.
He tried to will the motion of the index finger of his right hand, failed.
If I move I'll die!
Something touched his shoulder and he almost blanked out in frozen panic. A voice spoke softly beside his ear and it was as though the voice had shouted loud enough to split his eardrums.
“Ramsey. Steady, boy.
“You're a brave man, Ramsey. You took it longer than most.”
Ramsey felt the trembling of his body had become so violent that his vision blurred.
“I've been waiting for this, Ramsey. Every man goes through it down here. Once you've been through it, you're all right.”
Deep, fatherly voice. Tender. Compassionate.
With all his being, Ramsey wanted to turn, bury his head against that compassionate chest, sob out his fears in strangled emotion.
“Let it go,” said Sparrow. “Let it come. Nobody here but me, and I've been through it.”
Slowly at first, then in gasping sobs, the tears came. He bent over the bench, buried his face in his arms. All the time, Sparrow's hand upon his shoulder, a feeling of warmth from it, a sense of strength.
“I was afraid,” whispered Ramsey.
“Show me the man who isn't afraid and I'll show you a blind man or a dolt,” said Sparrow. “We're plagued with too much thinking. It's the price of intelligence.”
The hand left Ramsey's shoulder. He heard the shack door open, close.
Ramsey lifted his head, stared at the test board in front of him, the open intercom switch.
Bonnett's voice came from the speaker: “Ramsey, can you give us a sound-distance test now?”
Ramsey cleared his throat. “Right.” His hands moved over the board, slowly, then with rapid sureness. “There's enough cold stuff above us to blanket force speed,” he said.
The speaker rumbled with Sparrow's voice. “Les, give us force speed. Ramsey, we are within ninety pounds of pressure limit. Remain on watch with Les until you are relieved.”
The humming of the
Ram
's electric motors keened up a notch, another.
Ram
's electric motors keened up a notch, another.
“Right, Skipper,” said Ramsey.
Garcia's voice came over the intercom. “What's up? I felt the motors.”
“Cold layer,” said Sparrow. “We're gaining a few knots while we can.”
“Need me?”
“Come up here on standby.”
Ramsey heard the voices over the intercom with a peculiar clarity, saw the board in front of him with a detail that amazed him: tiny scratches, a worn plug line.
Back came the memory of his blue funk and with it, a detail his mind had avoided: Sparrow calling to him over the intercom to make the sound-distance test.
And when I didn't answer, he came immediately to help me.
Another thought intruded:
He knows how green I amâhas known it all along.
He knows how green I amâhas known it all along.
“Ramsey.”
Sparrow stood in the shack doorway.
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