by Joe Buff
"Let's check out the west flank of Middle from closer range."
"Sir? There was just a magma outburst there."
"Let's go take a look."
* * *
"Magma outburst!" Haffner shouted. "South flank of volcano North!" Deutschland shook, then dipped and rolled.
"Seismic seawave," Beck shouted. "Assess an avalanche on North!"
"Any contact on Challenger?"
"Working, Captain. Holography needs time to exploit the acoustic illumination…. No object identified as Challenger."
"He may be hugging terrain, trying to use shadow masking."
"Recommend we gain some altitude for a better look-down aspect angle."
In a strange way Beck was enjoying himself now. This was a pure contest of will and technology between Challenger and Deutschland, and he could focus solely on survival and success with a clear conscience. Let them sink Fuller's ship, here in this ecological wasteland, and help speed the larger war toward victory.
"Concur, Einzvo," Eberhard said. "Pilot, decrease depth. Keep us three hundred meters off the bottom. Maintain search pattern within volcano field. We'll find him. We have sonar superiority, and he's outgunned."
* * *
Challenger cruised the west side of the central volcano. The ship moved at three knots, taking careful measurements. Jeffrey ordered the sonar speakers turned off altogether, because of the noise; Ilse used her headphones, with the volume set well down. Even at dead slow, the ship shook and jostled as it had when she'd made flank speed before. The volcano field was never still, and the shocks transmitted through the water never ceased. Ilse wondered when something on Challenger would break.
Jeffrey ordered Meltzer closer to the bottom, despite the risk of a crash into terrain. They needed better data, if Ilse was to have a hope of forecasting how these magma outbursts behaved.
On passive photonics, with the gain at a factor of one hundred thousand, she began to see something. The scientist in her was fascinated. The common sense in her said this was madness — volcanologists on dry land had been killed getting too close to their subject of study….
Ilse stared at the screens. Lava poured from a side vent in Middle's cone. It glowed bright orange, before quickly quenching to red, then turning dark as it cooled more. There was no steam as the molten rock emerged and hit the seawater; the pressure at eleven thousand feet was much too great.
The lava was alive. As Ilse watched, it cascaded and spattered. The lava's surface hardened quickly in the cold, often forming a glassy, brittle shell, only to shatter as more glowing rock, at 3,000° Fahrenheit, forced its way from inside. The lava formed strange shapes, some resembling huge cow patties, others extruded toothpaste. The glowing lava gave its own illumination. The imagery rippled from the heat. Ilse saw large pillow lavas. One resembled a cracked egg: the hardened surface broke, and the liquid rock inside poured out and hardened like a yolk.
Challenger neared another active vent, and the picture grew brighter. Here lava emerged with greater force. Ilse watched red chunks and cinders erupt and cascade like fireworks in slow motion. Challenger trembled constantly, from immense geological forces transmitted through the water.
On her headphones, Ilse listened to the accompanying sounds. The lava rumbled as it upwelled through faults and dikes, then gurgled as it flowed through tubes and fumaroles. As new hot lava forced the cool — young rock ahead of it downhill, the advancing front made a crunching, scraping, clinking noise.
"Oceanographer. Recommendations?" Jeffrey's voice pulled Ilse from her reverie.
"Er, to predict large-scale behavior we need to examine more of this face. Build a recent history of the cone flank."
"What do you think, XO?"
"If we want to regain contact with Deutschland, sir, it is better to linger in one area. If both of us keep moving, the chances are great we'll both just go in circles and keep missing each other."
"Captain," Kathy said. "Ilse and I discussed something earlier. In this acoustic sea state, low-frequency look-down pings are unlikely to be detected by an adversary. Properly tuned sound energy will penetrate the seafloor, and give us valuable geologic information."
Jeffrey turned to Ilse. "This isn't a scientific research expedition, you know."
"Sir, we need that kind of data to time the seismic events. If you want to use that tactically against Deutschland…"
"Very well. Go active at your discretion with ground-penetrating sonar."
* * *
"Captain," Ilse said, looking up from her console a few minutes later, "recommend switching photonics to active laser line scan."
"That's risky," Jeffrey said.
"Understood. But we're too far from hot lava to gain illumination now. Line scan will provide the fine-resolution data I've got to have."
"Chief of the Watch, activate all look-down laser line-scan cameras." COB acknowledged.
As Challenger moved along, Ilse studied her screens. The terrain here was a jumble of layers made at different times. Ilse built a picture of how and when each lava flow had formed, their origins and sequencing. She saw large and squared-off blocks, with light and darker swirls and marbling, where molten basalt had thickened in alternating bands as its mineral content varied; this gave further clues about the Middle cone's behavior. These blocks were blown out from the central crater in some giant explosion, or they'd fallen from the rim in a violent avalanche. Either way, their sparkling, crinkled surfaces suggested they were very recent. Ilse realized the next outburst would probably produce more such huge projectiles, and one might come smashing through Challenger's hull. Kathy's people continued gathering ground-penetrating data, and passed it to Ilse. From density variations below the floor, Ilse was constructing a map of the active magma chambers, their sources in the earth's mantle, and their vents into the sea. Using Doppler she could actually follow how the magma moved, when it did move.
"What do you want to examine next, Oceanographer?" Jeffrey asked.
"The large subsidence that's just west of Middle, at the bottom of the slope."
Jeffrey gave the helm orders.
Jeffrey watched the photonics intently. Challenger moved over a wide bowl in the seafloor, a lava lake whose surface had hardened before the underlying lava drained away, back into some crack or chasm. The lake roof then collapsed, except for isolated pillars jutting from the floor. As Challenger passed the far wall of the bowl, Jeffrey saw where lava had emerged and cooled in stages, forming distinct layers, their broken edges now exposed. At Ilse's request, Jeffrey ordered Meltzer to make another pass over the bowl, from a different direction, so she could grab more data. When Challenger reached the center of the lake, the ship trembled strangely.
"Subsurface noise increasing rapidly!" Kathy said. "Assess as new outflow onto the lake floor. Advise clear datum smartly!"
Jeffrey snapped helm orders.
It was too late. While Jeffrey watched, lava burst from several fissures in the lake bed. The bowl began to fill. The lava glowed bright red. The ship was struck by thermal updrafts. Lava hardened, then cracked and flowed again. Challenger bucked and buffeted; heated water gave less buoyancy.
"Make turns for fifteen knots!"
Meltzer acknowledged as he fought the turbulence. Jeffrey watched his screens, horrified, as more and more lava poured up into the lake. It sloshed and rippled now, like water splashing in a bathtub. Challenger began to sink.
"Chief of the Watch, pump all variable ballast!" At this depth it would take forever. "Deploy the bow-planes!"
"Bow-planes are jammed! Bowplanes will not deploy."
"Sir," the phone talker said, "Engineer reports main steam-loop vapor lock."
Challenger began to slow. The ship and everyone on it were about to be broiled alive, or worse, entombed and baked within the pool of glowing lava.
"Switch all battery power to propulsion." The fans stopped, and nonessential consoles darkened. "Helm, put stern-planes on full rise."
&nb
sp; It was close, but they just made it, past the bowl and into somewhat cooler water. The ship's depth stabilized.
"Oceanographer, I thought we were going to predict these things!"
"Sir, we have outstanding data now. The next event won't take us by surprise." Main propulsion came back. Jeffrey felt almost giddy with relief. He admired Ilse's outward calm — but had he done the right thing relying on her expertise like this?
"Oceanographer, I need your prognosis."
"Something big should happen soon. This lake refilling so fast is a positive sign of it…. Based on the pattern of seismic activity, and underground magma movements beneath the central cone, I predict another powerful outburst from Middle's western flank, in an hour."
"And after that?"
"They'll probably recur, at more or less regular intervals, at least for a while."
"Okay," Jeffrey said. "I think we're as ready as we'll ever be. Let's hope this gives the datum on Deutschland we need, without boiling us like lobsters. Helm, bring us close to Middle's western flank, and position us with the starboard wide-aperture array facing out."
SIMULTANEOUSLY
"Still nothing, Captain," Beck said.
"Time is on our side, Einzvo. Fuller's coming here is like him playing Russian roulette. Every time a lava vent acts up, he pulls the trigger again, and makes another acoustic holography datum along some sector of the volcano field. Sooner or later he'll chamber the loaded round — with us in the right position to detect his transient — and then we have him cold."
Beck studied the nay charts. Deutschland continued her search.
* * *
"Now that we're sitting against a time bomb, Captain," Bell said, "may I ask your plan?"
"I've revised my thinking, XO, given our paltry ammo supply. I intend to find Deutschland by letting him find us. Next time this lava vent blows, we'll be acoustically backlit nicely on a broad arc off our starboard side. Eberhard'll think we blundered. I'm betting he'll let loose some snap shots. Then we strike."
"What if he's somewhere else when the magma outburst hits?"
"We'll try again. What's the rush?"
"Sorry, Captain, I just want to get this over with."
"So does Eberhard, believe me. That's what I'm counting on. That's why I tried to piss him off before, on the phone, and I'm betting he called for the same reason, to goad me."
"I'm worried, sir," Bell said, "that this magma explosion may finish us before Eberhard does."
"I'm not disagreeing, XO, but with hardly any useable weapons left, what choice have we got?"
Kathy requested permission to go active again on the ground-penetrating sonar — Ilse wanted to update her information on the pressure buildup in the underlying magma chamber. She'd obviously heard Jeffrey and Bell talking; everyone in the control room had.
"Permission to go active," Jeffrey said. "Update at your discretion…. Fire Control, we need to put our weapons out there now, so we catch Eberhard by surprise, inside the defensive ring of his own atomic counter-shots. That's the only way we'll have a prayer of scoring a hit."
"Sir?"
"I want to launch all four working tubes, and loiter our weapons at stealth speed, like a smart mine field, halfway between us and the volcano to the west."
"Er… concur," Bell said. "He has to come through there eventually. Whether he's heading north or south at the time won't matter from our perspective."
"Exactly. The mobile mine field's our tactical trip wire."
"Captain, four torpedoes doesn't make a very big mine field."
"I know."
Outside Challenger's hull, the sounds of rumbling and gurgling grew louder and louder.
CHAPTER 32
ONE HOUR LATER
Deutschland rounded the north face of Middle, heading southwest.
"Contact on acoustic holography!" Haffner shouted. "Definite SSN hull, beam on to us, silhouetted against west face of Middle!"
Beck sat up straighter. "Confirmed! Clear picture of noise field near Middle is forming on port wide-aperture array. Challenger backlit against seismic rumbling from west face of central cone."
"Achtung, Einzvo," Eberhard said in triumph. "Snap shots, tubes one through four. On bearing to Challenger, los!"
* * *
"Torpedoes in the water!" Kathy shouted. "Two, three — four inbound torpedoes in the water!"
"It's too soon," Bell said. "The magma hasn't blown yet. Our weapons are out of position."
"Inbound torpedoes bearing three one seven," Kathy said. Northwest. "Range nine thousand yards, closing fast!"
"Pull our units back and use them as countershots?" Bell said.
"Inbound torpedoes are diverging," Kathy said. "Assess he's trying to get us in a pincers. Captain."
"There's no point in using our eighty-eights defensively. Let his Sea Lions get closer. Oceanographer, how soon till that magma blows?"
"Any minute," Ilse said. "I think."
"Sir," Bell said, "advise we move away from the cone flank smartly."
"Not yet. Deutschland is probably beam on to us, using her wide-aperture arrays. Don't ask me how she found us, the point is that she did…. Sonar, go active on the bow sphere. Ping. Give Fire Control the target range and bearing. Tell me which way Deutschland's stern is facing."
There was a high-pitched eeeee. It fluctuated wildly in strength and frequency, to make it hard for the target to actively suppress.
Kathy waited for the echo. "Deutschland's course is one eight five." Eberhard's baffles pointed north.
"Okay. Okay. Fire Control, send our weapons at Deutschland in two pairs. The eighty-eights furthest from her, go right at her bow at maximum attack speed now. Sneak the closer units in behind her stern in a stealth approach."
"What if Eberhard goes to flank speed?"
"He'll think he doesn't need to and it would put him at a tactical disadvantage. We might track his noise on passive without giving him pings to track us, and he has his own wires to protect."
"Understood." Bell went to work. "But what about the incoming torpedoes?"
"Hold your fire."
"We have nothing to fire."
"Eberhard doesn't know that."
* * *
"Two Mark eighty-eights inbound from directly ahead," Beck called out. Eberhard launched the Sea Lion in tube five as a defensive countershot. Beck reported the inbound weapons were diverging, closing in on Deutschland from her port and starboard bows.
"They're still under wire control?" Eberhard said. "Apparently, Captain."
"Then he hasn't reloaded either tube."
"Concur."
Eberhard launched another countershot, the Sea Lion in tube six. "Send one at each Mark eighty-eight."
"Understood."
"Status of our salvo from tubes one through four?"
"Good wires. All units approaching Challenger in a fan spread. Bypassing the lava lake now."
"Challenger's response?"
"None yet, Captain. Not since that ping."
"Well, he certainly knows where we are. Either he's-waiting for our units to get closer, or he's had a bad equipment casualty. Either way he's doomed. Keep tubes seven and eight in reserve, just in case."
"Understood."
"I want to check our baffles. Pilot, starboard twenty rudder."
* * *
In Challenger's CACC, the noise of torpedo engines was drowned out by a double blast. Deutschland's two anti-torpedo torpedoes went off simultaneously, so that neither one would suffer warhead fratricide. Because of the geometries involved, the concussions arrived at Challenger one half-second apart.
"Lost the wires," Bell shouted, "units from tubes one and three. Assess both units destroyed. Good wires, tubes five and seven, stealth approach in Deutschland's baffles."
"Update our firing solution. Sonar, go active."
There was another ping, with a different random pattern of strength and pitch.
"Aspect change on Deutschland. Deutsch
land turning to starboard."
"Send units from tubes five and seven at maximum attack speed."
"Captain," Bell said. "Four Sea Lions are inbound at us at maximum attack speed."
"Sit tight, XO. We can't move till we break all Eberhard's weapon wires."
* * *
"What's Fuller doing now?"
"Nothing, sir," Beck said. It didn't make sense.
"He's panicked, or they're arguing what to do. Crew discipline's collapsed on Challenger. It's beautiful, mental torture before they die."
"Torpedoes in the water in our baffles!" Haffner screamed. "They're close! Near-field effects!"
"Flank speed ahead," Eberhard bellowed. "Snap shot, tube seven, minimum yield, into our baffles. Los!"
Deutschland picked up speed.
"Damn him," Eberhard said.
Beck stared at his tactical screen. "It's impossible, sir. Challenger's just sitting there."
"Has Fuller lost his mind? He used all four tubes at us. Our Sea Lions are so close he'll never intercept them now, even if he launched more units."
Deutschland hit twenty knots.
"Inbound torpedoes diverging," Beck said.
"Snap snot, tube eight, minimum yield, into our baffles, los!" Deutschland fishtailed, hitting thirty knots.
"Inbound torpedoes still closing, sir." They were much too deep for noisemakers or decoys.
"That madman. He's committed suicide, just to get at me."
"Captain," Beck said. "Challenger's weapons are too close. With their maximum yield, or our minimum yield, we'll take heavy damage either way." He's clever, this Fuller. The two weapons off our bow were ones he meant for us to see. They were a ploy, to lull us, while he snuck two more behind our stern. It worked: We were blindsided.
"Pilot, stern-planes on full rise! Emergency blow on hydrazine!"
The bow nosed for the surface. The hydrazine roared as it forced seawater from the main ballast tanks.
"Lost the wires, tubes one through four!" Beck watched Deutschland's depth decreasing rapidly — but the American 88's still overtook. If Eberhard ordered the last two Sea Lions detonated now, Deutschland would destroy herself. The ship hit forty knots.