Night Of Error

by Desmond Bagley

  'There's the winch report which gives position and depth. There's the spectrograph report, together with the photographic negative list. That's the quantitative analysis, and there's a numbered half-nodule. All that lot must be filed together. This time I've written it out myself, but next time I'll call out the figures.'

  I was pleased. This help on routine work made a lot of difference and I reckoned the work would be speeded up considerably. There was a long grind ahead – I didn't expect to hit the jackpot at the first dip, and I hadn't. The result of the first dredge was about average, just what the orthodox oceanographer would expect to find in a normal Pacific nodule.

  Clare and I went on deck to get a breath of fresh air and were just in time to see the dredge go over the side. I watched the bubbles rising to the surface and then we strolled away and sat down on the foredeck and I offered her a cigarette. As we went past heads turned and Ian called from the winch, 'Any luck?'

  I smiled and shook my head. 'Not yet, Ian, but it's early days.'

  Clare said, 'Pop told me about the questions you asked Kane. Do you think he was telling any of the truth?'

  'Not a chance. He was lying in his teeth.'

  She said, 'You didn't expect him to admit to killing anyone, did you? Of course he would lie.'

  That isn't what I meant, Clare. Curiously enough, I don't think he did kill anyone – not directly. I believed him when he said it was Hadley all the time. I don't think Kane has enough guts to kill anyone, but I could believe anything of Hadley. I think he's a psychopath, Kane implied that even Ramirez can't control him. It won't make any difference in the long run, of course – if we get them all Kane will be as guilty as any of them, and be punished accordingly.'

  Then you think he was lying about something else.'

  'That's right – but I'm damned if I know what it is. It was just something about his manner when I questioned him about Mark. There was a look of fear about him, something in his eyes I couldn't place. I think something much more terrible happened. But the outline of the story is clear enough.'

  Clare shivered. 'I didn't have much sympathy for Mark -not after what he did to me – but I can't help feeling sorry for him. What a pitiful end for any man.'

  I nodded. 'I wouldn't think about it too much, Clare. He's dead and beyond feeling anything any more. The world is for the living.'

  And you are one of the living, I thought, looking at her. There was no romantic moon shining across the water; instead we were in the hard white glare of the tropic sun. There was no love song echoing from the saloon, just the rhythmic clanking of the winch and the throb of a diesel. I said, 'Clare, if we come out of this successfully I'd like to get to know you better – much better.'

  She slanted her eyes at me. 'And if we don't come through successfully – will you just walk away and never want to see me again?'

  'That's not a nice way to put it.'

  That's the way I have to put it.'

  I said nothing, fumbling for the right words.

  'This is rather a new experience for me,' said Clare with a warmth of humour in her voice. 'I've never had to work at it myself. Most times I've had to fend off the advances'

  'I'm not making…'

  ' – because I wasn't sure if I liked the man, or because I sometimes thought they were after me as Pop's daughter- the ones who never found his money a hindrance. I don't think that's your problem though. Or do you think that rich people should only marry rich people?'

  I was about to reply angrily until I suddenly realized that she was teasing me. Her eyes were alight with mischief- and, I thought in astonishment, with fondness. I said lamely, 'Clare, there are all sorts of…'

  She waited but I was still fumbling.

  'Complications? But we could weather them all. Oh Mike, you're an awful fool – but I love you all the more for it.'

  I said after a pause, 'Damn it, Clare, it isn't the way I intended this.'

  'Am I driving you to the wall, Mike? Why don't you just say what's on your mind?'

  So I did. I said, 'Will you marry me, Clare?'

  She hung her head for a moment and then looked at me. 'Of course I will,' she said. 'We'll get married by the first priest we come across. I thought you'd never get to the point. Girls are only supposed to propose in Leap Year, but I nearly had to break that rule.'

  I felt exhilarated and weak simultaneously. 'Well, I'll be damned,' I said, and we both burst out laughing out of sheer joy. I wanted to do the obvious thing and take her in my arms, but there was too little privacy even up here, so we simply clutched each other's hands.

  Clare said, 'Mike, let's not tell anyone just yet. Pop has enough else on his mind right now. I think he'll be fine about it but I want to be sure when we tell him, and nobody else should know first.'

  I agreed with her. I'd have agreed with anything she said just then.

  We talked a lot of nonsense until the dredge came up. I can't remember us walking down to the laboratory – I think we floated.* 3*

  We dredged and dredged, stopping every ten miles on the way to Minerva Reefs. We dredged during every scrap of daylight hours and I worked a sixteen-hour day, taking my meals in the laboratory. The girls were of great service but there was still a lot of work, and I began to fear that my supplies of chemicals would soon run out.

  One thing bothered me. We were being continually pestered by members of the crew calling in at the lab to see what we were doing. Not only were they anxious to see good results but I found that Taffy Morgan had organized a sweepstake on the cobalt result of every dredge. I went to see Geordie.

  'Look, this is wasting a lot of my time,' I told him. Tell them to put a sock in it.'

  He smiled slowly. 'Don't want to dampen their enthusiasm, do you? Tell you what; give me the results of the dredge each day and I'll post a bulletin.'

  'That'll do it. Get the results from Clare.'

  He stuffed tobacco into the bowl of his pipe. 'Campbell started something with his big talk of making us all millionaires. Do you think there's anything in it?'

  'I should say he's a man of his word.'

  'I'm not doubting his word,' said Geordie. 'I'm doubting whether he can live up to it. If ten to fifteen million pounds is only five per cent of what he expects to make, then I think he's expecting to make a devil of a lot.'

  'He is, Geordie,' I said soberly. 'And so am I. I'm hoping that if we hit it all, it'll be big. When I've the time we'll get Campbell to talk in figures. That's going to open your eyes.'

  'He's already done that.'

  'He's hardly started.'

  'We'll see,' said Geordie, unimpressed.

  We dredged – and dredged – and dredged. Then we hit shoal ground at nearly 4000 feet. Geordie said laconically, 'Minerva Bank.'

  'All right,' I said. 'Nice navigating. We carry out our plan -we dredge all round it. But first I'd like a sample from the middle of the shoal, as far into the shallows as it's safe to go.'

  Campbell said, 'Isn't that wasting time?'

  'We don't know – not until we've done it. And I'd like to know for the record – and for my own theories.'

  We were wasting our time. We dredged at 2000 feet and came up with a bucketful of volcanic cinders, dead coral and shell. No nodules at all. The crew looked suddenly worried at the haul but I reassured them. 'I hardly expected any here, so don't worry. Plenty outside still. Now we can cross this area off the list, but I had to be sure.'

  We retraced our track to the edge of Minerva Bank and started to circle it at a distance of about ten miles, dredging in deep water. Geordie worked it out on the chart. 'That's about sixteen times we drop – say four days.'

  It took us a bit longer than that, but five days later we had made the full circle and still hadn't found anything. Campbell, first up and first down, was getting depressed again and his fretting was agitating the crew, who'd been working manfully. 'Are you sure we're in the right place?' he asked me, not for the first time.

  'No, I'm not,' I s
aid sharply. I was a bit on edge too; I was tired and not in a mood to be asked stupid questions. 'I'm not sure of a damned thing. I've got theories to offer, but no certainties.'

  Geordie was more placid. 'Don't forget that our arrival in Tonga brought Ramirez there hotfoot. I think we're in the right place.'

  I wished to God I knew where they were. They'd had time, I reckoned, to repair their engine, and I would have dearly loved to know if they were out at sea searching for us at this moment. If only we had some inkling as to how much Ramirez really knew, we could be better placed to cope with him.

  Campbell echoed my thoughts. 'Where the hell is Suarez-Navarro? And where are these goddam nodules? What do we do next, Mike?'

  'We carry on as planned. We go back towards Falcon on a parallel track.'

  'East or west?' enquired Geordie.

  I shrugged and felt in my trouser pocket. 'Anyone got a coin? This is a thing that can be tossed for.'

  Campbell snorted in disgust.

  Geordie said, more practically, 'Why don't we do both? We use the course we came on as a centre line and zig-zag back. First sample one side, then the other.'

  'That's a reasonable idea,' I said. 'Let's do that.'

  So we went back, and the same old boring routine went on. The winch motor whined, the bucket went over the side with a bubbling splash and a couple of hours later came up with its load which I then proceeded to prove worthless. There were plenty of nodules but not the gold-plated ones. The crew was kept busy at keeping the decks reasonably clean and at maintenance, and we devised all sorts of games and exercises to use up spare time.

  But Geordie was worrying about the maintenance of the winch gear. 'We're overworking it,' he said to me. 'We don't have time for standard maintenance. There's the cable – the lot wants a thorough cleaning and oiling. I'm scared it might break on one of these hauls if we don't check on it.'

  Campbell heard him out, tight-lipped, and said, 'No. We must carry on as long as we have the headway. You'll have to do the best you can, Geordie.'

  I knew what was on his mind. We had been at sea now for over two weeks and Ramirez would soon be ready to sail. While we were at sea there was a fair chance he wouldn't find us – but to put into any port would be dangerous.

  So we carried on, zig-zagging back towards Falcon, fruitlessly dredging the seemingly profitless Pacific.

  And then we hit it!

  My voice shook as I called the vital figures out to Clare. 'C-Cobalt – 4.32 per cent.'

  She looked up, startled. 'I didn't catch that one, Mike – at least I think I didn't.'

  I said shakily, This is it – 4.32 per cent cobalt!'

  We looked at each other wordlessly. At last I said carefully.

  'We'll assay again from that last load. More than once. Paula!

  I want everything washed down again – cleaner than ever.'

  – And the three of us threw ourselves into a routine that was suddenly anything but boring.

  The results were dotted around my first one like Campbell's bullet-holes around mine on the target. 4.38 – 4.29 – four times I tested, and every test checked out.

  I croaked, 'Hell, I've got to tell Geordie. He's got to change course.'

  I dashed up on deck leaving the girls thumping each others' shoulders. Ian was at the wheel. 'Whoa up!' I shouted. 'We're going back to the last site.'

  His eyes widened. 'You've never found something?'

  'That I have! Where's Geordie?'

  'He's off watch – I think in his cabin.'

  I left him to supervise the change of direction and pounded below. But Geordie wasn't impressed. 'Four per cent is a long way from ten,' he said.

  'You damn fool, Geordie. It's twice the percentage that's been found in any nodule before, apart from the one we had in London. We must have struck the edge of the concentration.'

  'Well – what now?'

  'We go back and cruise that area, keeping an eye on the echo sounder. That'll probably tell us something.'

  He swung out of his bunk and put his trousers on. 'It might tell you something; it won't mean a thing to me. Thank God we've been keeping careful records of our position.'

  'Come on – let's tell the boss.'

  Campbell had already been told. We found him in the lab with the girls, looking at the figures. He turned as we came in, his eyes bright with expectation. 'Have we found it, Mike?'

  I was suddenly cautious. I said carefully. 'We've found something. Whether it's what we hope is another thing.'

  'You goddam scientists,' he grumbled. 'Why can't you ever tell a straight story?'

  I pulled out the chart I had been making from the recording echometer. 'There's a ridge running along here, roughly north and south,' I said. The top is within nine thousand feet of the surface. We picked up our prize nodule here, on the east side of the ridge at eleven thousand feet. I'd like to sail at right angles to the ridge, striking east- this way. I'd like to see how the depth of water goes.'

  'You think the depth might have something to do with this?'

  'It might. It would be the natural accumulation area for the greatest volume of nodules hereabouts, rather than in the very shallowest areas – even though there's never more than one layer of thickness of nodules anywhere.'

  'I thought they'd be there in great piles, humped up together.'

  'Sorry, no,' I said. 'That's never been found. The best evidence from some deep-sea photographs is that there are parts of the sea-bed which are lumpy underneath the sediment layer, indicating that many more nodules might be buried there, but in that case they'd have stopped growing anyway, being cut off from their life-line – the sea water itself.'

  But for the only time they were not interested in my impromptu lecture. I hastened to correct myself.

  'Don't worry, the billions of tons I promised you will be there, even if it does lie only one layer thick. There are lots of things we have to find out still.'

  We arrived in the vicinity of the last site with members of the crew, rather ludicrously, peering at the surface of the ocean as if it could show them anything. Geordie said, 'Right – now which way?'

  I drew a pencil line on his chart. 'Follow that course, please.'

  As we sailed I watched the trace of the echometer with intense concentration. The line showed a gradual deepening of the water – not a sudden drop, but a falling away as though from mountains into the plains. After we had gone about ten miles the bottom began to come up again from 13,000 feet. I made sure it wasn't just a local condition and then said, 'I want to go back about two miles.'

  'Okay,' Geordie said, and gave brisk orders. We were doing most of this work under engine as it was tricky for sail, and I was grateful for the continuing calm weather which gave us the minimum of wind and ocean drift to contend with. I thought for just one envious moment of how easy it would all be on land.

  Campbell looked at my tracing. 'What do you think?'

  There's some sort of valley down there,' I said. 'We've come from a ridge, crossed the valley and begun to climb up towards the opposite ridge. I want to go back and dredge where it's deepest – it's about 13,000 feet.'

  Campbell rubbed his cheek. 'Bit deep for commercial dredging with a drag line. You waste too much time just going down and coming up again.'

  'If the stuff's rich enough it should pay.'

  He grunted. That's what we're here to find out.'

  By now everyone knew what was in the wind and there was a lot of tension as the dredge went down. Ian was at the winch and Geordie himself at the wheel, keeping Esmerelda on station. It seemed a particularly long time before Ian, watching the cable tension meter, slipped the winch out of gear and said, 'She's bottomed.'

  Geordie's hand went to the engine controls. Campbell swung round, fussing like an old hen. 'Careful, Geordie, we don't want any mistakes now.'

  Esmerelda crept forward, taking the strain on the cable. I could visualize the dredge at the bottom of the abyss, scraping forward in utter darkn
ess, gathering the nodules and debris into its maw like a vast-jawed prehistoric creature.

  Then the job was done and Ian had the winch in gear again. The drum started to turn and the crew began to stow the wet and slimy cable into the hold as it came off the drum. Again it seemed to take ages and the tension increased until our nerves fairly twanged. Taffy said hoarsely, 'For God's sake, Ian, pull your finger out!'

  Geordie said calmly, 'None of that, now. Take it easy, Ian -you're doing just fine.'

  Thirteen thousand feet is nearly two and a half miles. It takes a long time to haul a full dredge up from that depth, especially when you're not too sure of your cable and taking it slowly. Normally nobody took any notice until the bucket came inboard, but this time everyone's attention was riveted, and when at last the dredge broke surface there were many willing hands to swing the boarding derrick out and bring the haul in.

  Geordie had handed over the wheel to Danny and he ran forward to help release the load. A cascade of nodules swept onto the deck, together with the usual lot of slimy mud. Taffy stooped and picked up a nodule. 'This doesn't look any different to me,' he said, clowning disappointment.

  Ian said, 'Ye daft loon. Leave it to Mike, would you? He knows what he's doing.'

  I hoped he was right.

  Campbell said, 'How long, Mike?'

  The usual three hours. I can't do it any faster.'

  Nor did I – in fact it took longer. The lab wasn't very big and we had enough trouble with three of us working there. Now Campbell insisted on coming in and watching, and wherever he stood or sat he was in the way. In the end I bundled him out despite his protests, but I could hear him pacing up and down in the passage-way.

  At the end of three and three-quarter hours I opened the door and said, 'Congratulations, Mr Campbell. You've just become the father of a 9.7 per cent cobalt nodule.'

  His eyes lit up. 'We've hit it! By God, we've hit it!'

  'Bang on the nose,' I agreed happily.

  He leaned against the bulkhead and sighed deeply. 'I never thought we'd make it.' After a few moments his brain started to function again and he said, 'What's the density?'

  Ten pounds to the square foot. That'll keep you busy for the next few years.'