TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW (15 page)

“Yes,” said Andre. “What do we do if a shark attacks?”

“Try your very best not to make it angry,” Drakov said.

They moved on, walking like ballet dancers in slow motion across the sloping underwater ridge.

Overhead, a giant manta ray “flew” past, its huge wings rippling gracefully. The jagged peaks of coral all around them teemed with life. Bright flashes of movement made the coral seem to gleam as tiny fish darted in and out of the numerous crevices. The sandy bottom they walked on sloped into a valley and fell off to greater depths beyond.

Drakov pointed. “There she lies,” he said. “
La Floridana
in her watery grave.” It was a large wreck. Pieces of the ship were scattered allover the slope. Broken, ribbed sections of the hull brought to mind the picked-clean carcass of some giant underwater mammal. One broken section of mast stuck up at an odd angle, the other masts had been sheared off. A large mound of ballast stones from the ruptured hull looked like a convict’s rock pile, encrusted with vegetation, coral and shellfish. A large lobster scuttled across it. The crew of the
Nautilus
were already at work, two of them manning a portable airlift which had been clocked down from the submarine. Lightweight and powerful, the airlift was a compressor and a pipe with a diameter of twelve inches, steel teeth around its mouth for cutting through the sea grass. There was a valve upon the pipe for diverting the suction into the sea. In this way, the suction action could be stopped and a clogged pipe would not become buoyant and start to rise.

“Treasure hunting is hard work,” said Drakov, as they stood on a small rise watching the divers move around the wreck. “Much of it is done by hand. In order to check for hidden contraband, the ballast must be sorted through, stone by stone. It is a task which must be done slowly and carefully, or the stones which make up the mound could shift and trap a diver, even crush him.”

“What are they doing with that pipe?” said Verne.

“The airlift is the principal means of liberating loose items from the sea bottom,” Drakov said. “Other tools used are handpicks, spades and prybars. The men you see there are at work enlarging that opening in the hull. It will enable them to get inside the cargo hold, a task made easier by the position of the wreck.”

One of the divers came into view, brandishing a skull. Another found a cutlass. There were many cannonballs, ceramic pieces, shards of china and porcelain. The undiscovered wreck still contained all the cargo it had gone down with. Drakov was after the gold.

“Our ability to arrive upon the scene not long after the ship went down makes our task a great deal easier,” said Drakov. “There is still a ship to search through and there are still wooden chests to be found. A ship which has been underwater for a considerable length of time falls prey to the teredo, a voracious parasite also known as shipworm. The wood is eaten away and the vessel slowly disintegrates.

Wood weakened by the worms breaks off and is carried away by the current or buried beneath the sand. Only mahogany and the larger, heavier pieces of timber survive for any great length of time. Iron falls prey to oxidation. Silver turns black with sulphate. Brass turns green and as corrosion sets in, metallic pieces become encrusted with coral and start to resemble stone. In time, the only things remaining to guide the treasure hunter are rotted sections of the hull and piles of ballast stones. The death of
La Floridana
is a fact, but we have come upon her corpse before it has totally decayed. Look there, already she has started giving up her riches.”

As he pointed, they saw two men bringing out a large wooden chest. They set it down upon the sea floor and began to hammer away at it with their picks, freeing the hasp from the rotting wood. Moments later, it was open, revealing a fortune in silver tarnished by the sea. As they approached to look closer, they saw the chest was full of irregularly shaped slivers, green with the action of the seawater on the copper used in the alloy as a hardening agent.

“Pieces of eight,” said Drakov, taking several and passing them out for the others to examine. “So called because each is worth eight
reals.
Colonial treasure hunters called them ‘cobs’ because of their irregular shape, which is the result of their being chiseled off a block of silver prior to stamping.”

“There must be hundreds of them in that chest!” said Land.

One of the divers was heard over their helmets, speaking to Drakov. There was a quick exchange of Russian, then Drakov said, “I am told there are several more such chests within the hold.” Land needed no more encouragement. He immediately joined the divers at their task of clearing the chests out of the hold. Finn, Lucas and Andre were content to watch, while Verne remained close to Drakov, peppering him with questions, turning ceaselessly in all directions to observe everything about the undersea world he found himself in. Their presence attracted several groupers, which swam about goggle-eyed, curious about the alien intruders. Finn made friends with one, discovering that it like being petted.

As the divers worked,
La Floridana
steadily disgorged her treasure. Hundreds of pounds of pieces of eight in wooden chests and sacks made of burlap; bar silver; gold doubloons or escudos; silver wedges weighing about four pounds each; silver and gold statues, rings, pendants, necklaces and crosses. They found gold ingots and an entire chest of gold imperials. They discovered several boxes containing jewelry set with emeralds and rubies, some of the stones the size of eyeballs. One diver spotted the ship’s anchor some distance away, wedged in a coral reef. The ship’s captain had thrown it out in a last desperate attempt to save his vessel from destruction, but it had struck on the submerged reef and the ship turned, foundering.

They went over to look at the anchor. It was huge. Standing, it would have towered over them.

Already, the coral was encrusting it. Verne, interested to chip off some to study back aboard the sub, borrowed a handpick from the diver. Some of the coral came away, but a flash of brightness was also revealed. Verne chipped away some more, then the diver took the pick away from him and started chipping at the anchor in earnest. It was gold.

“Congratulations, Mr. Verne,” said Drakov, examining the results. “You have inadvertently uncovered a most audacious smuggling attempt. They made the anchor out of gold and then painted it over. You have discovered a fortune.”

Land swore, furious at not having found it himself, thereby earning a portion of the profits they would realize from its sale.

“Take heart, Mr. Land,” said Drakov. “You have already assisted in recovering much treasure. Your share will not be inconsiderable.”

Land turned away, then turned back quickly and gave Drakov a hard shove. With an exclamation, Drakov fell back, just in time to avoid being struck by a fifteen-foot shark that came diving down at them like a juggernaut. The shark seized upon the other diver and they heard him scream over their helmets as its jaws fastened upon him. A mist of blood filled the water as the shark thrashed, holding the diver in its jaws. Drakov fired his underwater pistol. The needle darts penetrated the shark’s tough .hide and it was paralyzed in seconds. It began to sink to the ocean floor, the diver still held in its jaws. Drakov bent down to check the man.

“He’s finished,” he said. “The blood will soon bring others. We must leave at once.” He gave quick orders over the headset in his helmet and the divers began taking the treasure they had recovered back to the point at which they had clocked in. There were already other sharks arriving, drawn by the scent of blood, when they activated the warp disc and teleported back aboard the
Nautilus.

When his helmet was removed, Drakov turned to Ned Land and said, “I neglected to thank you, Mr.

Land. You saved my life.”

Land grunted.

“You will not find me unappreciative,” said Drakov. “But we can discuss that later. Right now, we are all tired and I suggest we retire to our cabins for some well-deserved rest. We’ve had a good day’s work.”

Back in their cabin, Lucas took all the dosimeters containing the listening devices and carefully wrapped them up and muffled them beneath one of the bunks. Verne’s exhaustion had finally made him fall asleep and he was stretched out in his bunk, snoring quietly.

“It looks as though you’ve made your decision, Ned,” said Finn.

Land looked at him blankly.

“That shark might neatly have solved our problem,” Finn explained. “But it would have meant a lost opportunity for you.”

Land understood. He shook his head. “I’ve decided nothing,” he said. “There may be riches to be found in this life, but what sort of life is it for a man, spending his days locked in an iron barrel at the bottom of the ocean? It’s not natural. I do not know why I saved him from that shark. I didn’t think. I only acted.”

“Finn isn’t blaming you, Ned,” said Lucas. “Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Finn said, sourly. “Maybe I am.”

“Drakov’s death wouldn’t have helped us recover the stolen shipment of warp discs,” Andre said.

“And it would not have solved the problem of this submarine.”

“That’s true enough,” said Lucas. “We’ll be lucky if we can find the warp disc that clocks this sub.

It’s probably no more than twelve inches in diameter and cleverly camouflaged. Besides, as we’ve already discussed, taking that disc out of commission won’t prevent them from replacing it by having someone clock out and get another one. There’s no way I can think of for us to knock out every warp disc on this sub. We’d have to take on the entire crew.”

“That leaves us only one option,” Finn said. “We have to destroy the sub.”

“They must have an arms locker somewhere aboard,” said Andre. “They may have warp grenades in there.”

Lucas massaged his temples. “Even if we could gain access to their arms locker, I don’t much fancy blowing myself away with this sub. If there isn’t any other choice, well, that’s what we’ll have to do. In that case, I don’t see any reason why all of us should die. Maybe we can overpower several of the crewmen at the right moment and relieve them of their discs. Then the others could clock out and whichever one of us remains to blow up the sub might have a chance to make it. But it would be a hell of a long shot.”

“Andre’s right, though,” Finn said. “We can’t just leave an entire shipment of warp discs lying around for anyone to find. Drakov must have a base of operations somewhere. We have to find out where.” Andre smiled. “Think he’ll tell us if we ask him nicely?”

“No, but perhaps he’ll show us. It stands to reason he has a base. He’d need a submarine tender, at the very least. Before he puts his plan into effect, whatever his plan is, I think he’ll touch base.”

“Yes, but suppose he kills us before then?” said Lucas.

“Not much we can do about that, is there?” Andre said. “He’s liable to do just about anything. The man is insane.”

“Maybe that works for us,” Finn said. “If I were in his place, I would have killed us right off. This living paradox, instrument of Fate thing has really got a hold of him. Maybe we can play on that somehow.”

“Suppose I were to decide to join him?” Land said. They all turned to look at him.

“What I mean is,” Land said, “I’ve seen the treasure. My greed’s been awakened. I saved his life.

What if I were to go to him and tell him, in secret, I’ve decided to accept his offer? I would say I overheard you three making plans and I will maybe pass on some of those plans to him. I’ll tell him I am afraid you three will spoil my chances of being a rich man. I will secretly become a part of his crew, but stay with you so I can spy on you and keep him informed, and watch out for my own interests. He might take me into his confidence and I might learn something of use. How does it sound?” Lucas looked at Land with new respect. “It sounds good, Ned. Damn good.”

“Maybe too good,” Finn said. “How do we know that’s not exactly what you’ll do? Spy on us for him?”

Land was on his feet in an instant and in the next instant, Finn was on the floor. Land had his fists up.

“Get up,” he said. “Get up and fight!”

Finn sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw. “Not me,” he said. “You hit too hard.” He grinned. “I’m sorry, Ned. I had to do that. I’m the suspicious sort. I believe you.” Land glowered at him. “How do
I
know that?” he said.

“
Touche,”
said Finn. “I’ll tell you how you know that. Because you hit me, that’s why.” Land frowned. “That makes no sense at all.”

“It makes a great deal of sense,” said Finn. “If you were planning to double-cross us, I don’t think you would have hit me. You wouldn’t have reacted that way. You would have reacted with outrage at the suggestion, but then you would have tried your utmost to convince us you were sincere. A man who’s planning treachery would act deviously. He’d play up to those he’s planning to betray, not attack them.” Land scowled. “I think you are a devious man yourself,
mon ami.”

“You’re right,” said Finn. “That’s why I’ve lived so long.”

“The next chance you get, Ned,” Lucas said, “approach Drakov. Tell him you overhead us planning to break into his cabin to search for something called a warp disc. You won’t know what that is, of course, but you’ll tell him because you are afraid our efforts might ruin your chances of sharing in the treasure, maybe even get you killed.”

Land nodded. “But suppose my doing that gets
you
killed?” he said.

Lucas shrugged. “That’s just a chance we’ll have to take.” The atmosphere at mess that night was jubilant. They might have expected otherwise, with the death of a member of the crew, but life went on. Treasure had been found and wine flowed freely. No one mentioned the man who had died.

Drakov was last to arrive, as usual, with the ever-present cadre of Shiro, Martingale, von Kampf and Benedetto in his wake. They had seen little of von Kampf and virtually nothing of Martingale. Land inquired of Drakov if he would ask Shiro to tattoo him and was invited to come to Drakov’s cabin after mess, where Shiro kept his inks and needles.