TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW (6 page)

BOOK: TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW
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“Well, Ned, I repeat it with a conviction resting on the logic of facts,” said Verne, while the others followed the animated exchange. “I believe in the existence of a mammal powerfully organized, belonging to the branch of Vertebrata, like the whales, the chachalots or the dolphins, and furnished with a horn of defense of great penetrating power.”

“Humpf!” said Land.

“Keep in mind one thing, my Canadian friend,” said Verne. “If such an animal exists, it inhabits the very depths of the ocean, frequenting the strata lying miles below the surface. It must, therefore, necessarily possess an organization the strength of which would defy all comparison.”

“And why would that be?” Land said.

“Because it would require great strength in order to survive in those depths. Allow me to explain. I am certain our friends here will bring me up short if I am in error. Let us imagine the pressure of the atmosphere is represented by the weight of a column of water 32 feet high. Now, Ned, when you dive, as many times 32 feet of water as there are above you, so many times does your body bear a pressure equal to that of the atmosphere, which is 15 pounds for each square inch of surface.

At 320 feet then, this pressure would equal 10 atmospheres, at 3,200 feet, 100 atmospheres and at 32,000 feet, the pressure would be equal to 1,000 atmospheres. By simple arithmetic, we can determine that if you were able to attain this depth, for every foot you were to go down, your body would be subject to a pressure of approximately half a ton. Now, to a certain degree, this pressure is negligible because the air penetrates the interior of your body with equal pressure. This is why you are able to walk about without perceiving the effects of atmospheric pressure. This is also why you are able to dive down into the water, to a certain depth, and not be crushed. However, the deeper you dive, the more the pressure increases. At 32 feet beneath the surface of the sea, you would undergo a pressure of some 97,500 pounds. And, despite this pressure, pearl divers, for example, are able to survive at such depths.

But the pressure increases correspondingly the deeper you go, so that at 32,000 feet, it would be some 97,500,000 pounds —with the result that you would be flattened as if you had been caught between the plates of a hydraulic machine.”

“The devil!” said Land.

“Now,” said Verne, “if some vertebrate, several hundred yards long and large in rough proportion, can survive in such depths, consider then what must be the resistance of its bony structure in order to withstand such amazing pressure.”

“Why,” said Land, “it would have to be as strong as an armored frigate, plated with iron eight inches thick!”

“Exactly,” Verne said. “And think what destruction such a creature would cause if it propelled itself with the speed of a locomotive against the hull of a vessel!”

“Yes, well,” said Land. “Could be. You argue your case most convincingly,
mon ami.”

“So have I convinced you?” Verne said.

Recalcitrant to the end, Land shook his head. “I follow your reasoning,” he said, “and you have convinced me that
if
such creatures exist at the bottom of the sea, then they must needs be as strong as you say. But I will still hold my judgment till I have seen some proof that there are, indeed, such creatures. I’ve spent forty some odd years upon the sea and I have yet to see one.” Samuelson laughed. “It is quite obvious, Mr. Land, that you will never make a good newspaperman.

You are far too pragmatic.”

“And what about you, my friends?” said Verne, turning to the incognito Time Commandos. “You have said nothing. Have you any ideas to contribute to this discussion?” Lucas cleared his throat. “Well, I am a simple university biology professor. I hesitate to speak in such learned company. However I am of the same opinion as Mr. Land, here. I prefer to reserve judgment until some tangible evidence is at hand. There have certainly been enough curious reports to warrant an investigation, which is why we are all here, but none of us have any idea, really, just what it is we are investigating. I am enthusiastic over the possibility of there being some unique aquatic form of life heretofore unknown, but then the ocean is quite large and for all we know, we may even be searching in the wrong waters. These things take time. Fortunately, I am on sabbatical and this provides a convenient excuse to legitimize a long sea voyage. Perhaps we shall encounter something, perhaps not. I am content to wait and see.”

“A most laudable attitude,” said Devries. “Chances are, indeed, we will encounter nothing of any significance. However, one never knows until one goes and looks, eh?”

“And what about yourself, Dr. Delaney?” Verne said.

Finn shrugged. “If we do not find anything, Professor Cross and I will have wasted our time, so I prefer to remain optimistic. The university expects something for its money. I hope we won’t have to disappoint them.”

“How does Dr. Martinson regard this curious phenomenon?” said Verne.

“Dr. Martinson?” said Finn.

“Yes, surely, being from the University of Boston, you know him?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Finn. “It’s quite a large university, you know.” Verne frowned. “But Phillip Martinson is the chairman of the Department of Marine Biology!” he said. “How can you not know him? Surely, he must have conferred with you concerning this voyage!”

“Oh,
Phillip!”
Finn said, quickly. “Oh, yes, of course. Forgive me, I tend to be a bit preoccupied on occasion. Yes, well, we spoke about it briefly and his attitude was much the same as Professor Priest’s.

Cautious optimism, you know.”

“I trust his leg is better,” Verne said. “He was having difficulty with it when last I saw him. It must have healed by now.”

“Oh, yes, Phillip is just fine,” Finn said. “He bounds about the campus like an undergraduate.” Verne smiled. “I’m very pleased to hear that.” The ship gave a lurch. “Well, I perceive we are getting under way. If you gentlemen, and lady, will excuse me, I think I will go up on deck and watch as we leave the harbor.”

“Let’s all go,” said Devries. “It will be a while before we see land again.” As they filed out of the wardroom, Verne drew Finn aside momentarily, letting the others go before them.

“I just wanted to tell you, Doctor,” he said, “how very pleased I was to hear Phillip Martinson is feeling so much better. Truly, it must have been an astonishing recovery. Doubtless, they’ll be writing it up in the
Lancet
any day now.”

“Oh?” said Finn, feeling suddenly unsure of his ground.

“Yes, quite,” said Verne, smiling. “You see, Phillip Martinson has been confined to a wheelchair these past four years. He lost both his legs at Shiloh.”

Chapter
3

“I don’t believe it,” Finn said, throwing his cap down on the bunk. “We haven’t even left the harbor yet and already I’ve blown my cover!”

“What happened?” Lucas said, frowning. “It was Verne, wasn’t it? You slipped up.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” said Finn. “ ‘How’s Phillip’s leg?’ Òh, just fine, Mr. Verne, he’s all healed up and running around campus like an undergraduate.’ Me and my big mouth. Turns out Phillip Martinson lost both legs at the Battle of Shiloh.”

“Oops,” said Lucas.

“He hasn’t told the others yet,” Finn said. “He looked smug as hell about it, but he didn’t pursue it. I wonder what he’s thinking.” He shook his head. “Damn. I told them it was a dumb idea to have us pose as university professors. And they had to pick well-known universities!”

“It was a calculated risk,” said Lucas. “Samuelson, Devries and Vandenburg didn’t know anyone from Maine or Boston. Nobody figured on Verne, though. He was a last-minute addition. Hell of a thing, running into him of all people.”

“Well, I’m going to have to think of something to tell him,” Finn said.

Lucas thought for a minute. “Why not pretend to be an undercover journalist?”

“That’s not bad,” said Finn. “Only why would a journalist need to go to such lengths just to get aboard? Why not simply come on board as a reporter?”

“Maybe because people, scientists especially, don’t really act themselves when they know there’s a reporter around taking everything down,” said Lucas. “We already know how this bunch feels about reporters.”

Finn nodded. “I like it. We’ll go with it. I’ll make Andre my assistant or something. We might as well hang on to your cover, so long as it’s not blown. Just be careful what you say, especially around Verne.

He’s pretty sharp. Those others exist in that rarified atmosphere of academics, but Verne’s a writer and writers watch everything obsessively.”

“I’d say he was the least of our problems. I just keep wondering why there have been so many sightings in this fairly localized period as opposed to any other. It strongly suggests there’s a special reason why that sub is here.”

“Can you think of any particular thing about this time period that might attract them?” said Finn.

Lucas shook his head. “Hell, take your pick. Without anything positive to go on, we’d just be making wild guesses. This has to be the longest shot we’ve ever taken. That sub can translocate literally anywhere. This whole mission is nothing but a giant crap shoot.”

“Well, we can always hope the Fate Factor intervenes,” said Finn. “It would be nice to have temporal physics working for us for a change.”

“Please,” said Lucas. “I’d rather not discuss the Fate Factor so soon after that last mission.” He touched his eyepatch.

“Sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

There was a soft knock at the cabin door and Andre came in.

“The equipment’s all secure,” she said. “I’ve locked the cabin door, but it bothers me to leave it unattended.”

“If we spend all our time watching it, that will only arouse curiosity,” said Lucas. “The cabin’s locked, the ordnance is packed away and locked. No one would know what the hell to do with it if they found it, anyway. Besides, I’ve got my trusty little alarm pager right here. It’s as secure as it can be under the circumstances.”

“Just the same,” said Andre, “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping very well, alone in my cabin with a grenade launcher and ten warp grenades.”

“You can always bring some strapping young sailor in there to keep you company,” said Finn, grinning. “Just don’t tell him what’s underneath the bunk. That might kill all the romance.”

“Or it might make things more interesting,” she said with a smile.

“Well, first order of business is to check the ship out thoroughly and make note of all the crew stations,” Lucas said. “We need to find a place we can fire the grenades from without being seen. If the sub is sighted, we’ll have to move very fast. There will be a lot of excitement and that will work in our favor, because everyone will be watching the sub.”

“Suppose we
are
seen?” Andre said.

“Then we’ll just have to improvise,” said Lucas. “The important thing is to destroy the sub and verify its destruction. Making sure nobody starts examining the warp grenades is the second priority. Making sure we get away safely only comes third. I don’t think we’ll be in any danger. At worst, Farragut will have us put in the brig, assuming there’s a brig aboard this ship. If we get caught, they’ll want to ask us lots of questions. So let’s get our routine straight. Andre, since Finn just blew his cover—”


What?”

“It’s not serious. Verne caught him in a lie, so you’re both undercover journalists now. Anyway, since you’re both reporters, we can’t exactly have you playing around with any scientific apparatus. I’ll take over monitoring the SADD and radar and infrared gear.”

“Just make sure none of the others gets too close a look at any of it,” Finn said.

“No problem. I’m a professor, but I’m also something of a scientist and I’ve got ambition. I’ve been developing all this newfangled equipment and I’m very paranoid and possessive about it. Don’t want anyone to steal my ideas. I may ruffle a few feathers, but these people will surely understand that.”

“Good. That should work,” said Finn.

“Andre,” Lucas said, “you’ll be in charge of the grenades. First sign of trouble, you clock out with them.”

“What about you and Finn?”

“That’ll depend on what the situation’s going to be,” said Lucas. “A warp grenade makes one hell of a depth charge. The only chance the sub’s got of escaping complete destruction is to translocate before it goes off. One of us has to stay behind at least long enough to get a reading and make sure it’s been destroyed. Since I’ll be the one monitoring the instruments, I’m the logical candidate. Finn, once you’ve fired the grenade launcher, you clock out immediately. If for some reason that proves to be impossible, make sure you’ve fired your last grenade. Andre will be feeding them to you. No matter what, she
has
to clock out. I’ll be scanning the instruments, so I won’t be able to cover for her. You make sure she gets away, then if you can’t clock out yourself, make sure the last grenade is fired and dump the launcher overboard.”

“What about the instruments?” said Finn. “We can’t let them get their hands on those.”

“Better the instruments than the ordnance,” said Lucas. “We’ll take it step-by-step. I will already have established that it’s experimental gear of my own design and they’ll have no reason to tie me in with you. In all the excitement, I’ll be able to get my readings. If they’re positive, then we’re home free. I can either toss them overboard when I’m done or clock out with them or just finish out the trip as Professor Priest. On the other hand, it might all go smoothly. We sight the sub, sink same, and Andre clocks out with all the gear. We report she fell overboard in all the fuss, very tragic, then wait until the ship makes port and simply walk off like the others.”

“Sounds too damned easy,” Finn said, scowling.

“The hard part’s going to be getting lucky enough to encounter the sub,” said Lucas. “And nailing it before it trans-locates. Any way you look at it, if we manage to get that lucky, the rest
is
easy.”

“Yeah, famous last words,” said Finn.

“That’s okay,” said Lucas. “You just keep thinking about what can go wrong. That way we’ll be able to anticipate things better. The only—”

BOOK: TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW
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