A soft chime sounded. Barney took the message on the frequency code of the chip embedded in his skull. "Roger," he said, turning on a dim red glow in the deck. "I'll tell them."
"Captain Valmar asks us to be patient. Another hour or two. Would you like to return to your quarters to rest up?"
"And leave this?" Wilma exclaimed. "Not on your life. Admiral! I vote to stay. Buck?"
"I'm with you. Barney, if we could get some strong coffee up here, that would be great."
"No sweat. Oh, we're being joined by someone I've wanted you to meet for a while. Dr. Takashi Inoyue. He heads the overall
A Life ts the Future
strike teams of our undersea fleets. He's my second-in-command, and he'll be critical to us when we reach the Chilean strongholds. Let me give you a thumbnail sketch of him."
The coffee came first, and with it three small vials of the special drink Barney espoused as "good for the heart and soul." By the time they'd finished the vials and were sipping coffee, Barney had begun his brief on Inoyue. "First, he's small. Don't let that mislead you. He's built like spring steel, and he's a superb athlete. He has to be to carry out the research he's done in the oceans. For several years, he headed our underwater demolition teams—much like the SEALS of your day. Buck. In fact," Barney said after a long pause, "we were the lead team."
Wilma studied the dark face in the red gloom. Admiral Barney was many things to her, but she'd never thought of him as a skilled special warfare killer. You never really know the people you think you know best, she sighed to herself
"The most amazing thing Takashi did," Barney went on, "was to modify his own body. He worked with our best medical scientists and genetic engineers. He had his whole blood system, his oxygenation, altered to approximate that of animals like seals and whales. They can't breathe underwater, but their blood system is tremendously enriched with oxygen, so that they can store up enough oxygen in their bloodstream to remain underwater for an hour or more. That's why some of those creatures can dive to four thousand feet or better. On top of that, he spent years studying the recordings and behaviors of the small-toothed whales when they were communicating. He got so he could mimic the sounds of dolphins and orcas, as well as pilot whales and similar creatures. He'll swim out to sea and go underwater, and after he's sounded off, there's a whole swarm of those animals circling about him like they're old friends. He's incredible.
"But there's another side to him. Takashi is mixed Japanese and Mongolian. He was so successful in raids and attacks against the Mongolian sub fleet that they assigned an entire special team to kill him. When he thwarted their attempts, sinking their subs and ships left and right, they resorted to going after his Achilles' heel. A Mongolian team captured his wife and flew back to their home country in a mountain redoubt. They said if he tried to rescue her, they'd kill her immediately, but if he switched sides, joined his blood heritage, so to speak, and joined the Mongols,
Buck Rogers
he'd be welcomed with open arms, made a high-ranking officer, and he'd be reunited with his wife."
"Tough offer to turn down," Buck said.
"Especially if he really loved his wife," Wilma added.
"Accepting their offer would have violated everything he stood for," Barney went on. "So they began a long and slow torture of Chieko, his wife. First she was gang-raped, and then her skin was peeled off in strips while she was still alive and feeling everything. The torture went on for weeks, with Chieko dying piece by piece. Finally she went mad. It was her only escape. They cut her up while she was still alive. Arms, legs, ears, nose—"
"She was alive through all this?" Wilma gasped.
"She was. Mongol doctors kept her alive so she could see what happened to her limbs. They fed them to the pigs. Finally she willed herself to die. And she did."
Silence followed his description. "I told you all this because Takashi will kill Mongols every chance he has. You see, they videoholographed everything and then sent him the laser disc. He was uncontrollable after that. He was determined to kill a Mongol for every single minute she was in their hands and being tortured. So far he's notched more than two thousand lives on the belt he wears beneath his clothes. There's room for plenty more. One more thing. From that time on, Takashi has never once smiled or laughed. Don't expect warmth from him—just absolute loyalty to those who join him in fighting the Mongols."
Wilma felt a cold shiver run through her body. "I'm infinitely glad he's on our side."
"Barney, how does Takashi fit in with our heading for Atlantis?"
"In every way. If the Atlanteans are there, they spend almost all their time underwater. They appear to be allied with the Chileans, and the Chileans are allied with the Mongols, even though they once fought each other like wild men. That's just the way it is. Which mans there may be Mongols there, and certainly there will be Chileans who are partial to the Mongols, so to Takashi it's a perfect setup. Besides, he can get around underwater like a fish. The rest of it—" Barney shrugged— "well, let's wait and see."
A Life in the Future
They lapsed back into silence. No one said a word when Takashi Inoyue joined them. He slipped into the observation deck and took a seat in silence.
Around the southern edge of the South American continent, running at high speed, flanked and led by the neg subs, lo forged ahead steadily. The ocean bottom now showed signs of its violent past of continents battering at one another. Plateaus rose from the rugged bottom, their upper edges flattened and broad. To Buck, he might have been looking down from the air at Grand Mesa in Colorado, or the famed mesas rising in Venezuela, where from one such high plateau boomed the world's highest waterfall, Angel Falls, with a drop of more than three thousand feet.
But this was different in other ways. The bottom had the appearance of having been sliced by a huge cleaver tearing along sideways to create the hydromesas. It looked like some sort of strange liquid Monument Valley from the Amerigo southwest.
They continued to sweep over the ocean bottom, curving around the tip of the continent. The underwater terrain about them was shredded and fractured, as grotesque in its appearance as the blackened lava swirls of the Craters of the Moon in Idaho. The ocean bed was split and wrinkled, tossed with undersea mountains and cliffs, a cacophony of formations splitting into new cracks and fissures.
They received a signal from one of the lead neg crews. "Home Base, we've got some unexpected activity up here. We're seventy-four miles out in front, and there seems to be some sort of subsurface volcanic eruption ahead of us. Neg One, over."
They all listened on the broad-wave frequency, their implants picking up the broadcast exchange between /o's command center and the neg subs far ahead. Markham's voice was unmistakable.
"Roger that, Neg One. Have you got parameters yet?"
"Command, we're not sure of that. It appears that the ocean floor has a broad fissure running generally east and west, but it goes on for miles. It's like a volcanic vent, and there's thick black smoke pouring up from it. Visibility ahead of us is practically nonexistent, even with sweep-ranging light torps. All they show is boiling smoke. Over."
Buck Rogers
"Roger, Neg One. Any open fires or volcanic lava flow at the base?"
"Negative, Command. And I don't like it. We've got a fair sweep only with sonar. We have maximum possible penetration with the masers. The blue-green pattern cuts through somewhat, but I'm confused about the sonar. It's getting reflections like aluminum chaff dropped from planes to screw up radar, only right now whatever stuff is out there is playing havoc with our sonar."
"Neg Two, this is Command. Do you concur?"
"Affirmative, Command. And there's something else. This whole situation stinks. It's the heat patterns from the vents. They're consistent— too consistent. There should be variations in our thermal readings. There should be places where the sea floor is more broken up than others, but what we're seeing is almost a straight line."
Buck noticed
Takashi Inoyue leaning forward, intent on every word, his body poised like a coiled snake.
"Neg Two, Command. Can you break that down some more?"
"Command, it's too clean. Everything is too orderly. No expected natural variations. We don't like it, and we've armed all weapons."
"Neg One, Command. You agree?"
"Yes, sir. We've done the same. There's something else. The sea life around here is acting real skittery—as if they're fleeing from something."
Captain Valmar came on the frequency. "Do I get the impression that you feel what you're encountering isn't natural? Immediate response requested."
'Tes, sir. That's what we think."
Valmar's voice overrode all other radio activity. "Red Alert, all hands. Secure the boat. Battle stations, battle stations!"
Barney and Inoyue fairly leaped from their chairs and set off at a dead run for Command Center. Wilma started to leave, but Buck grabbed her wrist. "We'd only be in the way back there. Besides, between the observation hull and the holographic scenes, we can see as well as anybody."
"I feel naked sitting here," Wilma complained. "There's only that window between us and, well, whatever is out there."
"It's safe. If things do start coming apart, we'll put on the
A Life in the Future
emergency suits. They're in those wall lockers to your left."
"But—"
"Quiet!" Buck hissed. He was listening to an exchange between Takashi Inoyue and Captain Valmar.
"I've had this experience before, Captain," he heard Takashi say. "It's not the Chileans. Give me a holomap projection, please. From fifty degrees latitude down to fifty-five degrees, coastal area of Chile." In seconds, the holoprojection flashed on the combat situation wall. Takashi pointed to the Archipelago De Los Chonos.
"That whole coastal area is a natural minefield. Without proper charts, you'd get lost in minutes. It's a labyrinth of the worst kind. And here"—he pointed to Isla Magdalena"—is a huge underground facility—subterranean rivers, enormous caverns, all blocked off by the mountains. It's a natural fortress."
"Are you saying it's not manned by the Chileans?" Valmar said quickly.
"Pirates."
''Whatr
"Pirates," Takashi repeated. "Argentinian for the most part, some renegade Mongols, a mixture of Brazilians, other countries. Criminals who escaped in the confusion of battles. Anjrthing that comes through this area by surface vessel is in danger of encountering so-called 'natural disasters.' The pirates—and they're all capable seamen and submariners—have a fleet of old-fashioned boats, all heavily modified. When something comes in range, they set off those volcanic smoke eruptions. Oil fires under pressure create a line of smoke that looks dangerous to cross. Let me have a robochopper view from above."
The scene switched. The robochopper video cameras showed the ocean surface ablaze with burning oil. "There's the trap," Takashi went on. "Ships, even cargo boats, coming in from the south run right into this barrier. The ships slow down. Same with the cargo boats. The pirates don't fire torpedoes or other weapons. All of their boats have short range, but they use a modification of the Chilean liquid-air drive. They have plenty of defenses—mostly smoke, fire, and confusion. Their boats have enormous barbed steel prows, and they ram whatever ships or boats come their way. Ram them, lock in tight, and take them to the inlets and islets that make up their defensive maze."
Barney's voice came in. "Only they never expected anything
Buck Rogers
like lo, I'll wager."
"I agree," Takashi said. "This boat has enough firepower, especially with the negs out there, to wipe out at least half their force."
"And slow us down some more," Barney broke in. "It seems we're losing sight of what this mission is all about."
"The admiral is right," Captain Valmar broke in. "But we just can't ignore them. They're likely to try to follow us, and I don't want a full-scale battle on our hands. The sounds will carry for thousands of miles—" She stopped and studied the wall projection of the Chilean coastline. "It's nine hundred miles north to Valparaiso, just east of Santiago. That's the main Chilean base. If they pick up a battle royal here, they'll be expecting us, and that could make a real mess for us. We've got to arrive there unannounced."
Buck's voice broke into the joint frequency. "Captain, Rogers here. Permission to come to the bridge. I have an idea about how to handle this without a fight."
"Make it quick, Colonel."
Buck and Wilma ran steadily to the bridge and combat center. Buck took a deep breath. Valmar wasted no time. "Let's have it, Colonel."
"Mister Inoyue, you said they use steel rams to capture ships?"
The Asian fixed cold eyes on Rogers. "Correct. Your point, please?"
"/o has a triple outer hull. That means we can isolate the interior from the outer two hulls. Is that right, Captain Valmar?"
"Yes."
"Can you set up a powerful electrical charge to the outer hulls?"
Valmar looked at Markham. "Yes, we can do that."
"Then why not use the negs out there to herd those enemy boats directly toward /o? Let them know how big we are—a prize bigger and richer than anything they've ever seen before. If they hold true to form, they'll ram us. Only this time they'll come in a major force. We're too big and heavy for one or two of their ships to handle, so it will be a concerted attack."
"Aha!" They turned to Inoyue. "The colonel is right! If we direct our electrical field to our outer hulls and they ram—"
A Life in the Future
"We'll be sending a tremendous jolt directly into their boats," Barney finished.
"And no explosions," Buck added.
Valmar turned again to Markham. "How long will this require?"
"Twenty minutes, sir. That will give us time to isolate all our machinery and the crew, just in case we get a backlash of the electrical current."
"Mr. Markham, make it so. Admiral Inoyue, kindly stay with Mr. Markham. Barney, you fill in anything we've forgotten." She looked at Buck and Wilma. "Permission to remain on the bridge."
She opened her communicator to the entire crew, explained the situation quickly, and ordered preparations made immediately. One of/o's reactors would direct its entire energy output to turning the great submarine into a floating electric chair.
"We've got to time this right. The negs can run around these pirate boats like they're standing still. They'll pursue the negs. I want lo ready to move into that smoke cloud. We'll need automatic buoyancy control from the thermal upwellings within the smoke. Start moving in now. Do everything you can to give those bandits a good target. I want them mean and hungry for the kill. Commence a steady pace into the smoke."
The operation went like clockwork. There's nothing easier than drawing in a hostile force whose main purpose is in pillaging and killing innocents. They're convinced they have a helpless prize on their hands, and Captain Valmar did everything to encourage that feeling.
The negs ran through the enemy submarines like the latter were wallowing in mud. Then just as quickly they slowed down, seemingly confused, and ran for safety—straight toward the boiling wall of smoke from the oil fires far below.
lo rolled from side to side as the submarine penetrated the oily upwellings. Under Captain Valmar's orders, lo emerged from the thick smoke, then appeared to make an emergency turn to plunge back into the roiling darkness.
The pirate subs came after lo like hungry sharks. Here was the perfect, plump target for the taking. Three boats came in
Buck Rogers
abreast, their ramming spikes extended, and slammed into the hull at high speed. The spikes penetrated the outer layer, then pushed forward to the second hull and closed the circuit for the electrical charge being generated by lo.
Blue-white lightning flared brilliantly in the dark sea, crackling violently as it pulsated about and through the enemy subs. Electricity surged through each of the pirate boats, electrocuting the crews. In s
econds, it was over. Bodies stiffened, jerking wildly; they had no time to signal the other incoming pirate boats. lo put on a sudden burst of speed at full power; water drag ripped out the ramming spikes, leaving three lifeless pirate subs to begin their long final plunge to the bottom.
Again a sweep of enemy boats came in, and again Valmar controlled lo so as to present a helpless target. To all intents and purposes, she was a defenseless cargo carrier.
Three more pirate subs died in surging currents of lethal electricity and were subsequently shaken off to slide downward in their last voyage.
After twenty minutes, only four of the pirate boats remained. Their crews held off from attacking. No one answered their frantic calls for explanations. They couldn't access the frequency of /o's transmissions with the negative buoyancy submarines cruising like great barracudas.
"Neg One and Two, this is /o."
"Two, go ahead."
"One. We're on, /o."
"Time to turn the tables. Can you track those enemy boats? There are still four of them out there."
"Roger, Command. They're in close enough for us to pick up their propulsion systems on strike sonar."
"Negs One, Two, this is Captain Valmar. You will attack the enemy boats, but not with weapons. No torps. Repeat, no torps or explosive charges. We've had a close look at these things, and they're old Chinese Long March models. They can't take much punishment. You will ram at three zero knots in the stern area. That should put their steering mechanisms out of commission and bust up those liquid-air-cycle drives as well. Exercise caution. Do not exceed three zero knots. Do you copy?"
"Yes, sir! It'll be our pleasure, sir. They're sitting ducks. We're going in now. . . ."
Buck Rogers- A Life in the Future Page 22