Hunter Killer

by Geoffrey Jenkins

  only watch and pray.'

  Boz, carried away with enthusiasm, asked, How long do

  you reckon it'll take to get Little Bear into her firing position, Commander?'

  Two-three hours, maybe,' he replied. I'll have Mac check

  over the engine again tomorrow. It hasn't been used in ages, but it looks okay. I'd like to start out of the lagoon before daybreak.'

  I asked, Once Little Bear is submerged at the firing point, there's one hour to go?'

  T minus sixty—yeah,' Boz corrected me. ' Sure, you got it. The countdown routine's pretty simple—mKG gets my

  messages via the radio buoy on the surface. He gives us a

  count every few minutes—T minus fifty-nine, T minus fifty, and so on down to zero. At T minus one I start the DATICO checkout. But forget it, fellah—that's what me and Pete and Trev are all here for. You got yourself a ringside seat—no

  work'

  Peace added quietly, And as you count, every helo, every

  plane, every surfaced sub in Grid E-13 will hear you?' Sure.'

  -' When Little Bear is on the surface, a helo, a sub, a plane—

  anything with search radar or sonar—could pick her up?' •

  Yeah.'

  And when her generators get going, any nuclear sub within

  sonar range will hear them?'

  ' Sure—twenty thousand yards. Nearly twelve miles.'

  ' So from tomorrow evening until MKG is launched, Little Bear is wide open?'

  204

  ` Wide open as the prairie, Commander. If Tyler and his

  merry men pal around Grid n-13, then—' Boz shrugged.

  The mounting tension and the burden of our secret overlaid

  any satisfaction there might have been when we dragged the

  repaired cutter to the water's edge next afternoon. MKG and the American team slept. Peace, on the grounds that the

  radio batteries were failing, had kept it assiduously out of the way during the morning. Mac hovered like an evil presence. I had a restless night ; I fancied I heard a helicopter's rotors and I started upright. It was noise, but not of rotors. At

  dawn I saw: the shoreline was thick with grey noddies, blackand-white terns and little love-terns which had returned to their home after the cyclone. A squadron, not of Tyler's men but of steel-eyed frigate-birds, hung over the lagoon, divebombing shoals of fish. Adele hitched the painter over her shoulder and paddled

  into the wavelets.

  But André stood back, muttering.

  Peace said sharply. Slap it about, André—the sooner we

  see whether she's seaworthy, the better. Mac also wants to

  try the engine.'

  André says every ship must have a life. She cannot go

  into the water like this.'

  An echelon of frigate-birds circled low, eyeing us.'

  ' Say, the cutter has served us wonderfully and so has he,'

  answered Peace.

  Adele translated, but Andre gestured defiantly. In' the

  islands we have strange gods. Perhaps you will not approve. But without it, the cutter cannot go into the water.'

  For God's sake! What does he want?' began Peace, but

  Adele cocked her head to the radio and turned it up. A voice said : Red Force reporting to CIC x Grid E-10, E-12 negative x am commencing search Grid E-13 and E-11 x' The

  reply came back:

  CIC to Red Force x report likely contact and vector in VP-5's for MAD investigation x'

  Peace stiffened. You hear that? They'll be here any moment

  now. What the hell is wrong with Andre, Adele? Tell him

  the birds will be here soon—'

  The old man looked sullen. ' He says the birds are here. That's what he's talking about.

  The radio said:

  Red Force helo FX-6 reporting now entering Grid posi- tion E-13 x helos FX-5, FX-7 and FX-8 at intervals 20 205

  miles north x will co-ordinate reports from FX-6

  Marilyn's Dream x'

  The carrier was brief:

  ' Keep that dream going, fellah x'

  André gestured at the circling birds, spoke to Adele, and

  then pointed at the new planks in the hull. Peace's mouth

  tightened and he went to the sternsheets, where the Remington was kept.

  No! Geoffrey, no! Not André!' I burst out.

  Adele said helplessly, ' The boat must have a life. The new planking must have a life. One must die in order that the

  ship may live. Without it, there is no life for his boat.'

  There was a volley of Creole from André. In my father's

  day, he says, the islanders used to make a human chain of

  rollers to the sea, and a new or a repaired boat was launched over them. It took life, for only the strong survived. Now

  there are not enough strong young men any more. But there

  must be a life.'

  For a long moment Peace paused. Then he grabbed the

  Remington. He slid back the bolt.

  Geoffrey! For God's sake!' I rushed forward.

  Before I could reach him, Peace fired. One of the circling

  mass of frigate-birds fell, flopping into the water at our feet. Delight and astonishment spread over old André's face. He

  crashed his rough fist between Peace's shoulders, grabbed the axe, and splashed after the wounded bird. In a moment he

  was back, holding the bucking thing clear as it struck at him. He gestured to us. The boat—get it on its side—the bird

  must not die before—'

  Peace, MKG and I heaved the cutter over. Andre yanked the kicking bird to his new planks and shoved its neck against them. With a deft stroke he severed the bird's neck and, as the blood gushed, he made the sign of the Cross against the boards. He went to Peace and took his forearm in a curious

  grip.

  Adele said, 'He says, only a man of the sea would know .

  I recovered my wits. ' Geoffrey, in the name of all that's

  not holy . .

  It's as old as time—or the sea,' he explained. ' When he

  spoke of a life for a life I remembered: ancient Mediterranean shipwrights used to demand a human sacrifice at the time of launching. The custom's mutated somewhat, but it still survives among these backblocks of the sea. Come on now!'

  He glanced at the sky. There was nothing. We eased the

  cutter into the water. The new planks held. Smiling and

  206

  gesticulating, André hoisted the sail. We headed for Semit- tan tes grave.

  ' Quick!' yelled Peace. For God's sake—quick! Get those

  hats on! Here they are!'

  There was no mistaking the roar of rotors. The helicopter

  flew towards the lagoon entrance from the open sea.

  Switch off that radio!' hissed Peace. Under the decking—

  quick!' He threw the Remington after it and pulled on a

  big hat.

  The helo came at us wave-top level.

  No English!' breathed Peace. MKG'S face was drawn under its stubble. Adele was wide-eyed. André's astonishment was genuine—he had never seen a plane before.

  The helo swung low and hovered over us with a downrush

  of air.Look up! Look up at her! Play it!' ordered Peace.

  We stood up, shouting incoherently and waving. The

  observer looked into our faces from thirty feet up. A loudhailer clicked on, so that we overheard his conversation with the pilot.

  Hell, Pete, this looks a pretty beat-up bunch'

  So would you be, if you'd been out in a cyclone in that

  boat,' replied the other. Jeez, it was bad enough in the flat top.'

  I ain't no horse-player, but I'd lay money none of these

  guys is Vice-President of the United States!' said the observer. The harsh metallic laughter echoed over the lagoon. The helo swung and I caught a glimpse of a pin-up girl with the legend '

&
nbsp; Marilyn's Dream ' near the horse-collar winch.

  That goddam' ole ship is at the bottom of the sea,' said the pilot. We're wasting our time, I say.'

  This business sure gripes ole Revs's ass,' the other said,

  laughing. Jesus!'

  This is the first land I seen,' commented the pilot.

  ' Nothing but sea, sea, sea,' rejoined the other. There

  ain't a thing for us here, brother. Say—' he peered down'

  there's a dame in that boat.'

  Listen, fellah, if you want a dame you can get one nice

  and cosy back in the Seychelles without flying a thousand

  miles to some goddam' spit of land.'

  Sure, sure,' replied the observer. I just sort of like the

  idea of a dame out here—dancing girls, soft music, tropical lagoon . .

  You sound like you got a couple of sheets to the wind

  right now,' said the pilot. Call 'em up, fellah. Ask what we'

  re supposed to ask'

  207

  Okay, okay,' replied the observer.. I got it written down,'

  There was a pause. Then he called, 'Bateau?'

  I shuddered at his French.

  `Ship—bateau? Nau—naufrage—wreck?'

  Andre spoke to Adele. They laughed and pointed upwards.

  Aw, cut it out—can't you see they're just a bunch of

  dumb islanders? Let's get the hell outa here.'

  ' I guess so. First let's mosey around the lagoon. Report

  back, willya?'

  Sure. FX-6 Marilyn's Dream reporting x Love-Apple Crossing— sounds like a first-run movie-house title—negative x sighted boat with islanders x called 'em up—negative x l a g o o n — '

  ' Negative,' added the other. Well, 'bye from Marilyn's Dream, folks.'

  The loudhailer cut and the helo whirled upwards. Sweat

  stood out under Peace's eyes. Adele was very still. My knees were weak.

  Put on that radio, Adele,' ordered Peace. Look!'

  The helo came to a hovering stop above the place where

  Semittanté lay. The observer's voice was recognizable on the set as Adele held the Navy wavelength:

  Helo FX-6 to Red Force x Grid position E-13 x Love- Apple Crossing investigated x negative x island boat in inner lagoon x negative x wreck in lagoon x refer for routine investigation VP-5 MAD x wreck probably old x lies inside reef x'

  I saw a ball with a cable attached fall from the helo's winch into the sea to mark the wreck. We waited, breathless. The

  observer's voice went on:

  ' Routine dunking check x negative no contact x'

  Peace gave a great sigh of relief. In less than a minute the helo swung the sonar ball back into position with the winch and, following the reef, disappeared westwards.

  Peace said quietly, At least we know exactly where

  Semittanté lies.'

  We glided across the lagoon, silent with our own thoughts.

  André, with his uncanny sense of place, brought the cutter to rest over the wreck. Her outline was clear ; Little Bear's long crate lay on deck. Without speaking we dropped the cutter'

  s anchor cable attached to a length of line and a chunk of bois mangue.

  Then we stole back across the lagoon through the lengthening shadows, waiting for the night, waiting for the morning. 208

  1 4 L O V E - A P P L E C R O S S I N G

  Fifteen hours to launch!

  At six o'clock that evening they had not found Little Bear. In the gathering dusk the cutter lay over Semittanté. Peace stood ready in his rubber diving-suit to go down and cut the missile adrift. The tension triggered off by the sweep of the helicopter was now enhanced by the nearness of the blastoff. It was clear in the faces of Boz Blair, Trevor-Davis and the three other Americans who waited for the missile to

  check it. MKG alone seemed calm, almost detached.

  The stream of operational messages from Red and Blue

  Forces did nothing to lessen the air of tension. Although the helo search had moved westwards from Love-Apple Crossing

  towards Agalega, 50 miles away, the surface forces of carriers, destroyers and nuclear subs had not yet entered Grid E-13.

  Nor had the vP-5's, which Peace dreaded most. They might

  come tonight.

  Since our arrival back in the cutter, the conversation had

  been exclusively technical centering round the launch, for which Peace was, I think, grateful, for MKG did not renew his request to listen to newscasts. Mac chain-smoked and watched us from the background of the tight launch team

  circle,

  Peace gave the thumbs-up sign and slipped into the calm

  water of the lagoon, axe in hand.

  We waited.

  Boz gave a sharp intake of breath. There was a flurry' of

  water and the missile broke surface close by, shedding its

  tail of wooden crating. The long, silver-white thing, fifty-five feet long, six round the nose, and thickening at the tail like a sailor's bell-bottomed pants, pitched easily in the slight swell. The capsule nose-cone was behind the waterproof membrane. Beyond the reef, the sea grumbled. Let's get alongside her,' Boz exclaimed. This is where we take over.' The men started to grin, easing the tension. They had a job to do which would occupy all their thoughts

  and effort during the night. MKG was to assist for the first few hours and then return to Vingt-Cinq Coups. For us, the

  long night of waiting lay ahead.

  Adele shivered. ' It looks so small.'

  MKG smiled at her, saying nothing. But Boz's exuberance

  was starting to return at the sight of Little Bear. Best in a 209

  small lucky packet, they say. Why, that goddam' great Sirius rocket—'

  Pete the Texan laughed. ' Aw, come off it, Boz. If this

  guy gets talking about Sirius, he'll blow a gasket.'

  Peace surfaced and stripped off his Scuba mask. We

  hauled him into the boat and eased alongside Little Bear. Boz made fast to the capsule's side hatch. André gazed in speechless wonderment. Boz held a checklist.

  ' It's a complex business,' he said. Me and the boys will

  go over everything during the night. How long are you staying, MKG?'

  ' Till about ten,' replied MM.

  We'll come out in the cutter and fetch you back,' said

  Peace.

  Boz had the pleased air of a showman. He gestured toWards a small pistol switch in the capsule's cockpit. It projected prominently in front of the heavily-padded seat, around whose back were draped safety straps.

  See that? That controls the movements of the power plant

  rods. Trev here's the expert on that—snAp !'

  I wondered what was going on in Peace's mind. The sight

  of the missile seemed to disquiet him.

  Boz went on. Before Trev pulls rods, which starts the

  reactor—or, as we space boys say, it goes critical—we have

  to check the instrument panels, the monitoring circuits, valves and emergency alarms. They're energized by a small battery

  unit until the main power starts coming through from the

  reactor. Each of us has his own department.'

  ' Let's get going, Boz,' said the big Texan.

  You wouldn't think to look at this bum that he's an

  expert on missile valves,' Boz remarked good-humouredly.

  It looks very dark in there,' Adele murmured.

  I know—have to know—the position of every switch, every

  lever, even in total darkness,' replied MKG.

  He does, too,' added Boz. Right, fellahs: Now, we'll want

  a couple of hours before the instruments start to wake up

  under main power. It also takes some time after she's gone

  critical to mount full power for the pumps and so on. You

  can't do anything further here for the moment, Commander.'

  ' Power—noise,' repl
ied Peace. ' Electric light—pinpoint

  for search planes. Pumps—target for sonar.'

  ' Sorry, Commander, but that's the way it is. We'll try and black out the perspex canopy from inside, but we gotta have a good light to check. We can't shorten the drill. Same with

  210

  the countdown. Once we start the sequencer count, whatever

  happens in that last hour before the blast-off, we're committed.'

  Even if Tyler should show up?' I asked.

  MKG replied slowly, Once I'm submerged and counting,

  for God's sake don't let Tyler do anything rash. This little honey will smash anything on her way up. I don't want the

  lives of Tyler and his crew on my conscience.'

  But it's Boz on the surface who presses the firing-button,' I said.

  This is all theorizing,' said Peace shortly. We'll meet the situation as it arises.

  MKG eyed him speculatively for a long moment. Then Boz took a key and unlocked the side hatchway through the casing into the cockpit.

  He signed to Trevor-Davis. Come on, fellah, she's all yours to start with.'

  Trevor-Davis lowered himself on to the cushioned chair

  and looked at us through the Perspex, He raised his right hand, forefinger and thumb circled together. Then he dropped his hand to the pistol-grip switch. We waited. Then, on his left, a dial glowed and a needle quivered.

  During the next hour as Boz and his team went to work

  the instruments came alive one by one—the first had been the power-level reading of the reactor. Boz told us at intervals of coming and going into the cockpit that the others were pressures, velocity of steam flow, monitoring checks. Then

  suddenly the cockpit was flooded with the bright glow of

  electric light. Trevor-Davis, who had taken over again from one of the Americans, smiled up at us. Little Bear began to vibrate as the steam built up to full pressure in the reactor. I think we'll leave you to it,' Peace told MKG and the team. He glanced uneasily at the east and at the moon.

  We're wide, wide open.'

  Mac, at Peace's order, used the engine to take us back

  quickly to the shore. He seemed to have it in perfect running order. The American team had to accompany us, since the cockpit could only accommodate one man at a time.

  Peace, Adele, Mac and I jumped out on to the sand. MKG and Boz nodded goodbye; all their thoughts were on Little