Hunter Killer

by Geoffrey Jenkins

  The surface alarm-klaxon sounded three times.

  Peace said, Blow all ballast.'

  Surface, surface, surface!' said the loudspeakers.

  Peace checked the control-room barometer after the lowpressure blower had taken a suction on the ship. Open the hatch!'

  The rating spun the handles of the locking dogs and opened

  the vault-like cover. Peace, as was his prerogative, was first out. I waited for the bridge personnel before I squeezed out. The fresh air on the trade was moist. salty, satisfying, after the sterile dryness of Devastation's interior, but with it was the fishy, deep-water smell which a submarine gathers after long submersion.

  Here was the full beauty of Big Capitaine and Little Capitaine: both were miniature replicas of a hundred other islands in Limuria. Flanked by yeliow and rose coral, the

  lagoon of each islet stood out like a green gem set in the deeper circle of the blue sea. The illusion of a ring setting which sprang into my mind was enhanced by the platinumwhite reflection of the sun glancing off the restless water as it surged and plunged through the pass between the two islets. Limuria's daylight dreams ; night-time and the trades breathe 83

  with a curious rise and fall through the palms and scrub

  thickets and in the distance is always the sea, eternally burnishing the coral for the next day's loveliness. Peace called out, Take a look there, John.'

  He pointed at the hull. The forward bank of stabilizers,

  like projecting bollards, were twisted aside.

  Devil-fish. There, too.'

  Paint was stripped raw to the hull. A ragged fringe, curled and blackened along ^the casing, marked where the monster had lain.

  Peace added, He took a bit of Devastation for a souvenir, too.'

  About six feet of bridge handrail was missing.

  ' What do you really think it was?' I asked.

  He shrugged. ' Devil-fish—that's good enough, I suppose.'

  Finding it difficult to shake off my uneasiness, I said, '

  These are coelacanth waters. God knows what else they conceal.'

  He looked round the gentle scene and then his eyes moved

  to the south, from which Willowtrack would come.

  From what I've heard about Tyler,' I said, it would have

  been better to have told him everything.'

  ' No,' retorted Peace. More than enough people know. Look at the leak. Look at the intruder—and this business of my funeral.'

  Are you going to tell Tyler straight from the shoulder that from St Brandon onwards his part of the mission is accomplished?'

  Peace looked uncomfortable. ' I'll play it by ear when we

  meet.'

  The metallic voice of the speaker cut in. ' Bridge—Control!

  Possible radar contact bearing one-six-zero degrees!'

  Peace snapped the knob of the bridge command speaker.

  Control—Bridge. Keep and log ranges. Any sonar contact?'

  None, sir,' came the answer. The reef's in the way.'

  We searched the quadrant of sea with our binoculars, but

  it was obstructed by the blowing spray.

  Contact now bears one-seven-zero true, moving right . .

  ' It must be Willowtrack,' said Peace, coming round the point.'

  Contact not evaluated,' droned the radar-man. Approximate course two-seven-five degrees. Approximate speed sixteen knots.'

  Control—Bridge,' said Peace. Report immediately you

  evaluate contact.'

  Range twelve thousand yards, closing'

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  Bridge—Control—sonar reports, probably a submarine.'

  The radar-man said, ` Contact closing rapidly, course now

  three-five-zero degrees ..

  Sonar reports contact evaluated as submarine.'

  She's up!' exclaimed Peters. He became formal. BridgeControl—submarine, range eight thousand yards and steady.'

  Contact now bears two-two-zero true,' droned the radarman. A long black shape came into sight round the reef, riding

  low, her sail half awash, and the identification numbers painted out.

  The bridge speaker said, Message coming in, sir' `

  Send it up,' ordered Peace.

  He glanced at it. Brickbat Zero One! That's Willowtrack all right.' He turned the slip over and scrawled a combination of code letters for transmission.

  The sub rounded the point and then, as if reassured, she

  shook the sea clear of her casing and came swiftly across the anchorage. A churn of white at her stern, and she anchored. Within minutes, the rubber dinghy was in the water and

  Peace and I were being rowed across to Willowtrack. Halfway, I looked back. 'Never had the Bay of the Two Capitaines seen such an array of naval power. The two lean black shapes offset the fairy colours of the breaking spray.

  A capless figure in faded sea-going khaki looked down from

  Willowtrack's paint-scuffed bridge. Despite the cigar clamped in the corner of his mouth, it was easy to see in those strong features where the command lay. There was about him that inherent air of anticipation, of intuition, which stamps a great sub skipper. This was the famous Revs Tyler.

  You Devastation?'

  The question was rhetorical, but a menace underlay it, had we not been.

  Aye,' called Peace. ' No reception committee, I see.'

  Tyler leaned over and grinned lopsidedly, the cigar in his teeth. I could see the ripple of muscle at the base of his neck. We got everything pointed at you,' he said. There was no laughter in the long-drawn vowels.

  It was the sort of finger-on the trigger attitude which Peace respected. It was reflected in his voice as he called back, I was all ready to pull the plug if you didn't add up.'

  Revs tugged the cigar from his mouth and gestured widely

  round the bay. Right on the nose with the navigation—

  we've split this dump in two. Now come on in.'

  Tyler had a new cigar in his mouth when we reached the

  bridge. His handshake was like iron. ' Glad to have you

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  aboard,' he said. ' Glad to get a breath of fresh air, too—

  thirty-six days submerged. Nearest we got to the surface was periscope depth for the White House messages. And—' he indicated the cigar—' whatever the General Dynamics guys say, they can't make a cigar taste the same below as in the open air.' He took a large breath of the fresh, cool air. '

  Boy, if anyone sleeps better than me tonight, he's drunk.'

  I wondered after what we had to tell him. Still, I knew how he felt. Submarine air is like drinking stilled water—

  aseptic, safe. Even the cook aboard a nuclear sub falls under the whip of pure air restrictions and cannot use lard, for instance, because it gives off acrolein, which is an eye irritant. No aerosol sprays, either—because of the gas they contain.

  I'm Peace—Commander Geoffrey Peace,' Peace said.

  This is John Garland.'

  The American looked at me penetratingly. It was a strong face, tough, without the cruel lines round Peace's mouth. If he had every weapon pointed at you, it flashed across my mind, he wasn't the man to jib at using them, if he thought it necessary.

  Tyler inclined his head slightly. 'Hi, Geoff, hi, John.'

  But he still stared at me. The morning's pretty well shot,'

  he added. Let's get below, much as I hate to, but we can't talk up here. MKG'S waiting.'

  Peace nodded perfunctorily and Tyler led us below. If I had been uneasy before, I was more so now after meeting Tyler. His integrity and loyalty to the Vice-President were obvious.

  Peace, too, was tense as we entered Willowtrack's Control Centre. It was airier and lighter than Devastation's, but that seemed about all. The steel-walled compartment, the instrument consoles, the diving-stand, the soft whirr of machinery, were all the same. But the tight groups of men, taut, alert, were not. Peace nodded towards them. Action stations?'

  `Relax,
fellahs-,' said Tyler informally. ' It's okay. Break it up.' He turned to a stocky officer. You have the deck and the conn, Lou. I'm going aft. We'll take time out to let these guys get some fresh air topsides. Call me if there's anything.'

  With this sub skipper's time-honoured injunction on handing over, we threaded our way through to Tyler's cabin. For the first time in my life I felt a shut-in feeling in a sub ; the steel walls did not seem big enough to contain our anxieties and our secret.

  Tyler remained distant. He kicked the cabin door closed,

  86

  turned his back on us, picked up a phone and spoke in to it. MKG? The Limeys are here.' As the instrument crackled, he turned and looked hard at Peace. Sure, sure, he says his name is Peace. No, I dunno the guy. But the code reply was

  in order—Brickbat Zero One.' He put down the phone. `

  The way MKG feels about Commander Geoffrey Peace, he'd give him a command in the United States Navy itself.'

  His voice had a curious edge to it, and his use of the third person instead of speaking directly to Peace, left me wondering. Was the famous skipper jealous of the Vice-President's regard for the bright star of another Navy?

  I am Commander Peace,' said Peace evenly.

  Yeah, oh yeah,' said Tyler in the same tone. He paused for a moment, but neither of us spoke. Then, as if to cover up his unfriendliness, he said quickly. I don't as a rule hold with vips in my ship, but MKG is different.' He shrugged as if he realized he was just talking. Anyhow, you guys don't want me to give my own Vice-President the soft sell, but MKG sure has a way with him. My navigator's Chuck Wilson MKG shares a cabin with him, wouldn't hear of taking over mine. That's the kind of guy he is. Chuck's a whiz when it comes to figures, but MKG has him beat. Somehow—don't ask me how—we began to get some drift in the gyros of the analogue computer. Who fixes it?—mkg;!' He gave me an acute glance, sensing my confusion. You familiar with these ships?'

  ` No,' I said.

  Again the tight scrutiny. 'I see. Well. there's seventeen thousand transistors, thirty-nine thousand diodes and forty thousand circuits in the system—'

  A dockyard job,' said Peace.

  Tyler's pride was touched. I guess there are at least thirty-five American nuclear subs on station in all oceans of the world at this moment,' he said with a thin smile. The u.s. Navy doesn't care for dockyards when they can do the job at sea.'

  Peace and I exchanged glances. Tyler was certainly not making it any easier for us.

  But in this case.' he went on, ' I'd say Willowtrack needed the whole goddam' Massachusetts Institute of Technology! But MKG fixed it and we hit St Brandon right on the barrel-head.'

  He gave a short laugh, the first touch of warmth that had come into his conversation. He and Chuck Wilson talk, but what in hell they say, don't ask me.'

  I said. ` Well, he's one of the great scientists.'

  Somehow, the remark seemed off-key.

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  ' Sure, sure,' replied Tyler briefly. Just that.'

  Our voices fell dead. In the silence we could hear the

  chatter of the off-duty men on the casing above.

  Tyler pushed across a box of Phillies Bonanzas and Peace

  took one.

  Willow track's poison,' he remarked, glancing towards the door, as if anxious that MKG should not come in on us sitting silent. I tried putting out the crew's smoking lamp for a week once—medical experiment. It lowered everyone's morale so much that I stopped it after three days. I must say, though, I wouldn't mind a Jack Daniels at this moment. But

  the urge goes, once you can't get it.'

  American ships still dry?' asked Peace noncommittally.

  Tyler frowned, as if wanting to take exception to any remark. Sure, always have been. Always will be. Keeps the crew fit. And the fittest of all is MKG—punchball, medicine ball, Relaxicizor—the lot. You'd think he was training for the World Series.

  Well, he's an astronaut—' I began, but the words froze as

  Peace glanced at me. I'd forgotten—Tyler knew nothing of the space-flight to Sante Fe! All he knew was that MKG was to test a secret weapon.

  The look was not lost on Tyler.

  Then the American skipper said casually, What's the news —

  topsides?'

  I saw Peace's momentary hesitation—he had been in the headlines for days—and then he replied, Usual. Nothing you'd want to look up for reference.'

  Tyler seemed to relax a little. Fine. You know, this past week I've been lying awake nights and thinking what if some sonofabitch had mashed the tit and started a shooting war, and here I am cruising five hundred feet under the sea not knowing a word about it?'

  I felt the sweat on my palms, but Peace said levelly, You were in touch with the White House every day.'

  Twenty-four hours between signals,' answered Tyler. The Whole U.S.A. could be in ruins before I knew.'

  I said gravely, Then you'd be the only fighting unit left in the world. You'd carry the decisive factor in your Sherwood Forest.'

  Uh-huh,' Tyler replied noncommittally, looking again towards the door. MKG seemed a long time in coming. No news, eh? Well, that's good, because if there's anything my crew likes, it's news. News. They must have it. Normally on a deep-water mission I put up a radio antenna and tape it up. Then we play it back in the mess hall when the crew comes 88

  off watch, but on this mission—' he swung his bulk aggressively to and fro= no dice. Strict orders. White House signal at sunset only. Not even a news flash. Nothing to fill the ship's newspaper except the same old corn, and you get pretty tired of that after a while. After all—' he seemed to be talking just to study us and our reactions= I'm editor-in-chief. I get sick of my own corn. Just about as sick as the boys do with the same old movies. We play 'em over and over. They speak

  the parts, they know them so well—run 'em into the ground, funning around—'

  There was a light tap at the door.

  Come in!' called Tyler.

  Peace and I swung round. As the door opened, a thrill passed through me. I can still smell the acrid aroma of Tyler's cigar and see the tiny pastel-green cabin in sharp focus: the gyro repeater, speed indicator and depth gauge at the foot of the bunk ; four telephones ; a brace of speakers ; the greenish-moon reflection off the bottom of the snicked-up Pullman washbasin ; the grey metal lockers ; the utilitarian desk.

  MKG stood in the entrance.

  He wore the same sea-going, washed-out khaki as Tyler. He was much the same build and had to stoop to enter. The

  face was long, the jaw badly shaven, squarer than Tyler's. It lacked the captain's rangy, weather-beaten look. But there was no mistaking its power, its determination, its command. Black hair, submarine-cut, receded slightly at the temples. As he came forward, he screwed up his eyes like a sailor viewing a far horizon. The regular line of his teeth showed as he went forward and gripped Peace's hand.

  His look was questioning, though, when he shook me

  strongly by the hand, as if to try and place me in the Little Bear project.

  John Garland,' explained Peace. One of the finest navigators afloat. He's coming with us.'

  We don't need a navigator,' said Tyler curtly. With this ship's instruments, I can find anything, anywhere. My instrumentation's better than any Limey sub's. MKG said quietly, The inertial navigation—it's one hundred per cent now, Revs.' He, too, seemed to be seeking neutral ground. I checked it over. The gyros and accelerometers are just dandy now.'

  He hadn't Revs's long drawl, but a quicker, shorter accent, reminding me of President Kennedy's when I had heard him broadcast.

  Tyler tried to soothe the unease in the cabin. Coffee? It's 89

  the one thing we never run short of. Navy Nectar.' He picked up the intercom. MKG'S eyes were on Peace, waiting for him to make the opening.

  Tyler went on. They're always trying out new shapes of coffee makers to see which gives the best—we've had cylinder shapes, round, square, even a triangular one with a shot
of cream from a gadget in the side.'

  It was MKG himself, however, who started the ball rolling.

  He looked penetratingly at Peace. ' Is Semittantê safe, Commander?'

  Are we to start talking shop right from first base before the coffee comes?' asked Tyler.

  The rapport between MKG and Peace was clear to see. I felt like a supernumerary, especially in the light of Tyler's antagonism towards me.

  Semittanté refuelled, in Mauritius and left on schedule,'

  Peace replied. We should pick her up according to plan.'

  The platitudes were not lost on Tyler. He frowned. See

  here, I got personal orders from the Secretary for the Navy himself. The Vice-President of the United States is entrusted to my special care. That cargo of mine is more explosive than a salvo of Polaris missiles. I mean to keep it that way. I don't go for cryptograms like that.'

  It happens to be my responsibility to test-fire Little Bear, Revs,' said MKG levelly. I don't have to remind you that you are under my orders.'

  Tyler looked truculent. I know my orders. I have to rendezvous with the British submarine Devastation at St Brandon, Indian Ocean. If she answers the code signal Brickbat . Zero One, she's okay. If not—' His smile was icy. She did. All I know is that I am to receive a new briefing from this point onwards.'

  The prickly American skipper went on, as if he had been waiting to have his say: I can't make out why the Limeys have to come in on this mission at all. It's an American missile, a United States project and, goddam it, we've shown ourselves quite capable of looking after ourselves in two wars over seven seas.'

  MKG remained unruffled at his outburst. Little Bear is a joint American-British effort. Revs. The motor, the key to the whole thing, is British—sNAP. It's good, or else I wouldn't be sitting here half-way across the world from the United States to prove the missile.'

  Davis and Acton—' began Tyler.

  mkgs voice took on a strange resonance. I'm glad you

  mentioned them ; it's just the sort of tragedy that SNAP can 90

  prevent in future. Davis and Acton could have homed okay if they hadn't lost their power at the critical moment. Here is something you and the rest of the world haven't yet heard, Revs: as you know, Davis and Acton went into a shaliow orbit round the earth on their return from the moon. When the power from their solar cells started to fail, there was no chance of a space-liaise with Santa Fe and they knew it was only a matter of time before they were cremated in the earth's atmosphere. I spoke to Davis before his radio finally packed up. Know what he said? " It's not the thought that we are going to die so soon—it's pretty beautiful up here—