The Victoria Stone

by Bob Finley

  Kim released an explosive breath, unlocked his trembling knees and brought the great ship under control. Hovering there, he tried to collect his thoughts while his passengers collected themselves from the floor. He even managed an embarrassed smile under the thunderous back-pounding and ‘attaboys’ of the next moments from his impressed and very grateful audience.

  Finally regaining his composure, Kim maneuvered the VIKING over the mini-sub that was buried stern-down in a mud-flat bottom forty yards away, its thruster filters hopelessly fouled.

  Having heard the sound of the turbines from below decks, Marc Justin had dashed to the control room just in time for Kim's one-man show. Thirty seconds after the mini-sub tumbled out of the VIKING's cone of light, Marc was heeling the SQUID into a tight, accelerating turn away from the MARS.

  Working together, he and Kim managed to recover the crippled vessel by grappling it with the number six sphere's mechanical recovery arm intended for lifting the SQUID from the sea after a sortie. Through closed-circuit TV Kim on-loaded the craft, then plucked the SQUID from the black void as well. In three minutes flat, accompanied by a great belching of compressed air from the dive sphere into reserve storage tanks, Marc popped the canopy on the SQUID. Almost simultaneously, Kim undogged the passageway airlock and joined Marc in breaking the canopy seal on the rescued/captured mini-sub. With a grunt, Marc swung the bubble open. Startled, Kim grabbed at the body of the man that tumbled out of its dripping coffin and flopped inertly to the VIKING's deck.

  Chapter 15

  Marc and Kim looked at each other across the body.

  "Cy Wojecki," Kim stated.

  "Yep. ‘Volcanologist; seismologist; male; age 47; Hungarian-born; refugee, 1957; correctly predicted the California Earthquake of 1979’," Marc recited from memory from the MARS personnel briefing file locked under the control sphere console.

  "I wonder what made him attack the VIKING," Kim mused.

  "I don't know. But for somebody who's supposed to be on our side, he's sure got a weird sense of duty."

  They half-tossed the limp form into the console chair and cupped a portable CPR rescue mask to its face. Marc cracked the portable oxygen valve and a hissing issued from the mask. He forced several bursts into the man's lungs, watching his chest for exhalation. Suddenly Wojecki's eyes snapped open above the mask and darted from Kim to Marc and back. Ripping at the face mask, he lunged forward and clawed at his captors but was smashed violently back into the chair by their superior strength. Together, Kim and Marc wrestled the frantically flailing figure into submission.

  Body bowed in helpless resistance, eyes rolling wildly from Kim to Marc and back again, Marc got right in the man's face.

  "Wojecki, do you hear me? Do you hear me? Listen to me! We're friends. You hear me? Calm down. Don't struggle. Listen to me. Look at me. I'm Marc Justin. You're okay. It's okay. You're on board a civilian submarine sent to find you. You didn't send a ‘clear’ signal so we came to see if you're alright. Are you alright?"

  Wojecki's eyes were locked on Marc's.

  "He's coming out of it," Marc quietly said to Kim. "Let him go."

  "You sure?"

  "I hope so."

  Reluctantly, Kim eased his grip, then gradually let go. But he didn't stray far.

  "Now, I'm gonna let go of you, too, okay? You gonna be okay if I let you up?" Marc looked him straight in the eye. "Are you?"

  The man slowly, almost imperceptibly, nodded his head, still intently studying Marc's face.

  "You're sure, now? No more fighting, okay? You sure?"

  More cautious now than scared, Wojecki gave a convincing nod.

  Marc looked at Kim, who shrugged. Marc nodded and stood away from the man.

  "Can we talk now?" Marc continued to gaze directly at him.

  "Yes, I think we'd better," Wojecki shifted in the chair to a more comfortable position.

  "Good," Marc said, pleased. "I'm Marcus Justin. This," he nodded at Kim, "is my co-pilot, Kim Matsumoto. You're on board a civilian research submarine, the VIKING, which I own and pilot. The Navy Department asked us to locate you and find out why you stopped transmitting. They thought you'd bought it for sure." He paused, wondered at the distraught look that had come over the new arrival's face. He paced a few steps to the man's left and turned to him again. He crossed his arms and thoughtfully rubbed his lip with a knuckle.

  "You look alright to me, though," he observed. "You wanta tell us about it?"

  Wojecki stood and took a few agitated steps. He darted a haunted look quickly in Marc's direction but didn't meet his gaze.

  "I'm glad there's finally somebody I can tell it to," he returned.

  "Let's wrap ourselves around a fresh cup of coffee while we talk," Marc herded him toward the passageway, being careful not to touch him. He didn't want to set him off again.

  "Kim, you want to get the others?" he directed. Kim caught Marc's tug-on-an-earlobe signal to make sure the concealed surveillance equipment in the galley was live.

  While Marc guided Cy Wojecki to the galley and poured coffee all around, Kim checked the recorders, verified the VIKING was on automatic ‘hover’, set the external alarm system, and briefed the others on their way to the galley.

  Introductions were passed around, everyone curious to see this magic genie who'd suddenly appeared from nowhere and learn his secrets.

  "OK, Cy," Marc encouraged," take your time and tell us what's going on."

  Chapter 16

  With a shaky hand Cy Wojecki clattered his coffee cup to the table and wrapped both hands with gratitude around its warmth.

  "Well, I thought you were the others coming back after me," he blurted defensively to the group in general. "I wouldn't have done what I did if I'd known it was you." His swift glance at each of them was an embarrassing plea for forgiveness.

  "I'm sorry," he added in a small voice to his coffee cup. "It makes me sick to my stomach to think of the mistake I almost made."

  Marc Justin leaned back casually in his chair facing the man and sipped his coffee. He deliberately filtered Wojecki's reactions and responses through the steam rising from his coffee cup. He blew gently on it and sipped again. His clear gray eyes revealed nothing of his impressions.

  "I assume that you've been under a lot of stress for apparently some time," Marc quietly consoled him, "but try to remember that we just arrived and don't know any of what's happened yet. So start at the beginning and give it to us slowly but as completely as you can remember, okay?"

  Their unexpected guest forced a slow, deep breath, shifted uneasily in his chair, and glanced around the group again. His gaze came to rest on Marc.

  "Well, like I said," he began, "I thought it was the others. ‘Cause I never actually saw them, see? I mean, I was asleep when they came in and it was just lucky I woke up when I did." He looked quickly around at the uncomprehending faces.

  "I guess I'm not telling this very well," he apologized. "I guess I'm still a little shook up."

  "Go ahead," Marc urged with a sympathetic smile. "You were asleep and you heard voices…"

  "Yeah. Well, when I woke up, I heard loud voices. I couldn't tell what they were saying but it sounded like more than just a couple of people. I glanced at the digital clock by the bed and it was only ten-thirty. I hadn't been asleep but about an hour and forty-five minutes...I was supposed to take the second half of the night watch, from three A.M. to seven A.M…and I was a little sluggish when I woke up. I laid there a minute listening because it sounded like the voices were arguing. I looked in the bunk below me and Bryson...Terry Bryson," he explained, the third man aboard MARS, "wasn't there, so I knew…or rather, thought I knew…that he and Bill must have been arguing."

  "Did this happen very often?" Marc interrupted.

  "No, never," Wojecki exclaimed. “So I knew there must be something seriously wrong. And it seemed like the argument was getting louder all the time. So I got up to see what was going on, and what I could do to help." He paused, took a long d
rink of his rapidly-cooling coffee, and resumed. "I don't know what made me realize there was something really wrong, or when, exactly. But before I actually entered the ‘bowl’ I realized I had stopped and was listening. And what I was hearing I didn't like. In fact, I couldn't believe my ears."

  "Wait a minute," Ben Cramerton interrupted. "What's the ‘bowl’?"

  "Oh. I'm sorry," Wojecki apologized sheepishly. "The main control room. We call it the ‘bowl’ because with the clear dome overhead, we always feel like we're the fish and that somebody's always out there looking in at us.

  Ben nodded his head. "Okay, I'm sorry. Go ahead with what you were saying.”

  While Marc refilled the cups, Cy continued with his tale, having found a beginning and warmed to its telling.

  "Well, while I was standing there, just out of sight, it hit me. There were more than two voices.”

  Marc and Kim shared an urgent glance across the table.

  "I almost busted in right then in my surprise, but something in the tone of the voices held me back. It was then I realized, finally, that, though I had been hearing I hadn't been listening. All of a sudden the words made sense.”

  He paused and slowly shook his head.

  "Even now I still find it hard to believe.”

  "What were these voices saying?" Marc leaned forward, caught up in learning the answer to the mystery surrounding his friend, Bill Layton.

  "I don't remember the words exactly, but I won't ever forget their meaning."

  Marc waited, his eyes locked on Wojecki.

  With deliberate, carefully chosen words, Wojecki said, "Bill sounded like he was struggling against being held, you know, restrained, and shouting at somebody they were ‘out of their minds’ to think they could just break in and take over and expect to get away with it. Then, somebody else, a voice I didn't recognize, was arguing back that if he'd just quieten down and cooperate there'd be no trouble, but if he didn't he could ‘do it the hard way like his friend over there’…I think they must have knocked Terry out or drugged him or something. That was probably the struggle and shouting that woke me up."

  "Then what happened?" Marc demanded.

  "Well, I hadn't understood what was going on until then. But then one of them, a different one, said, like he was trying to calm Bill down, he said something like, 'All we want from you, Dr. Layton, is a little help. It won't take but a few days of your time and then we'll see you and your friends safely back here as if nothing ever happened.'"

  "And then?" Marc urged him on.

  "Well, then I heard the first one say to somebody 'Go get the other one,' and I realized I was the ‘other’ one!"

  "What did you do?" Janese Cramerton asked.

  "Well," he looked at her, then down at his hands on the table, "you might think it was cowardly...but it sounded to me like whoever these people were had already taken over and were in control, and I had no weapons, so…" he paused, then more subdued, added "I looked around for a hiding place and the only one I could think of was below decks. So I ran below decks into the engine room. And then I realized there wasn't really any place in the ship I could hide where they couldn't find me in just a few minutes. That's when I thought of the mini-sub. I thought if I could get outside, they might not be able to find me in the dark, especially if I kept moving. So that's what I did. And it worked!" he bleated. Then his smile slowly faded into remorse. He grew quiet, and for long moments no one spoke.

  "Cy," Marc finally broke the heavy silence, "I'm almost afraid to ask this. But where are Bill and Bryson now?"

  "That's just it!" Wojecki almost wailed. "I don't know where they are!"

  "Well, what happened to them? Don't you have any idea?" Marc snapped impatiently.

  "Yes, I know what happened to them, but I don't know where they are!" Wojecki shot back.

  "Well, then?" Marc was on the verge of grabbing the man and shaking him. "What did happen to them?"

  "I thought you understood," Cy Wojecki looked wonderingly at him, then around at the others and finally back to Marc.

  "They 've been kidnapped!" he exclaimed in an exasperated voice. "And I would've been, too, if I hadn't got away when I did!"

  Marc remained standing, staring at the man before him. He felt as if he'd just swallowed a chunk of lead and it was slowly, painfully sinking lower and lower in his stomach. He turned slowly away and headed for the solitude of the control room. The group awkwardly parted to allow him to pass.

  Chapter 17

  When Kim slipped into the darkened, hushed control room, it was a moment before he spotted Marc slumped low in the pilot's chair, staring morosely at some unseen point in the darkness beyond the glass wall.

  Quietly crossing the room, he leaned against the control console so he could see his boss's profile. He said nothing, but from long experience, waited. He sensed the change in attitude even before Marc abruptly looked defiantly at him, jaw set. He just as abruptly looked away again and angrily pursed his lips. Still, Kim waited. Finally, with a shake of his head, Marc broke the silence.

  "What kinda sense you make of this mess?" he asked.

  "Now that you ask, none," Kim replied.

  "Well, blast it, it's got to make sense somehow!" Marc threw himself out of the chair and began pacing cat-like, from one side of the room to the other.

  "Look! I've been going over what this Wojecki has told us so far," Marc began a pattern of logical summation Kim had seen him perform hundreds of times. He knew his role was merely that of sounding board and that Marc would eventually arrive at his own conclusions. He also knew that as soon as he had done so, things would start movin' and shakin'.

  Marc continued, "According to him, he's asleep when somebody, persons unknown, somehow gets inside the vessel undetected, method unknown, sneaks up on the watch, overpowers him and one other man, and goes for the third one, Wojecki, who gets away in the station's mini-sub. They ‘don't want to hurt anybody, as long as nobody resists’. They give up on Wojecki who has by now escaped and they disappear in the night in their mysterious pirate ship, presumably with Bill and Clark aboard as prisoners. Right so far?" Marc stopped pacing and challenged Kim.

  "Right," Kim merely gave the expected reply with a nod of his head.

  "Alright," Marc returned to his pacing.

  "They say...whoever ‘they’ are...that they need Bill, presumably the whole crew also, for a short time, a ‘few days’, to do some kind of ‘job’ for them. Now, if they've got the resources necessary to find and kidnap somebody from under two miles of water when nobody but the Navy's supposed to even know they're there, why don't they have the resources to do the job themselves, without running the risk of a kidnap and discovery?"

  Marc paused, obviously expecting an answer.

  "Because…" Kim offered, "…they don't have the specialized knowledge and/or experience that either Bill or Terry Bryson has?"

  "Right! But which one? Bill's a marine acoustical engineer and Bryson’s a Navy CommTech."

  "Maybe both?" Kim suggested.

  "Um, possible," Marc allowed. "As for Wojecki, either he wasn't valuable or they didn't have time to waste looking for him."

  "Surely, though," Kim objected, "whoever this was, with their obvious resources, they should be able to buy or pirate from some company just as qualified a person whose greed outweighs his scruples, without going to all this trouble and expense...and risk," he added belatedly.

  "Well, whatever the job is, and wherever it is," Marc exclaimed, "you can be sure that it's probably both illegal and hard to find."

  Both men were silent for a time, each involved in his own personal line of reasoning. Then Marc, more subdued now, said "There are a few points I want to clear up in Wojecki's story."

  "Meaning you don't believe him?" Kim probed.

  "I don't know yet," Marc admitted," but consider: he's the only apparent survivor of whatever it was that happened. Why is that? Sheer luck, according to him; and why didn't he reenter the MARS ship as soon as
‘they’ had left and signal for help? And why did he attack what he thought was a ship that had kidnapped his companions knowing he'd kill everybody aboard both ships, including himself? I'd feel better about his story if we had answers to those questions. Tell you what...how about if you go talk to him again and get some answers."

  He paused. Then quite suddenly his eyes narrowed and he cocked his head slightly to one side. He checked Kim in mid-stride half-way across the room.

  "And one other thing," Marc instructed Kim. "Find out exactly when all this supposedly took place. See if you can trip him up. I'll be in Six for a while, and then I'll be back here. We need to move on this."

  While Kim questioned Cy Wojecki, Marc went aft where the wrecked mini-sub lay like a dead fish on the deck of the now-crowded dive sphere. Plundering through a tool locker he retrieved a wrench, a flashlight, and something that looked like a pressure gauge. He squirmed through the disabled sub's hatchway, removed an inner panel, and disappeared into its innards except for his feet and ankles. After some grunting and wiggling, he backed awkwardly out of the compartment and reattached the panel. Exiting the mini-sub, he returned the tools to the storage locker. Securing its door, he stood lost in thought for a moment with his hand still on the handle. Then he slowly walked the length of the ship, back to the control room. Kim was waiting for him.

  "Find out anything?" Justin asked without preamble.

  "Finally had to turn him off. He was wide open. Aftermath of all the excitement, I suppose."

  Marc eased into the pilot's chair and swiveled it to face his co-pilot.

  "I suppose. So?"

  "Well, he still holds to the ‘good luck’ story...waking up when he did...getting away...like that," Kim began. "As to why he didn't come back to MARS later and call in the troops...first, the hatch automatically closes and seals behind a departing mini-sub, for safety's sake. Whoever's still inside can, of course, let the sub back in...except there was no one left inside. Of course."