CHAPTER IV
Silver on the Sea
Night had come hours ago. Craig stood on the deck, watching the sea andthe sky and the stars in the sky. Up overhead the constellations hadchanged. They were not the familiar star clusters that he knew.Completely blacked out, the Idaho moved very slowly through thedarkness. Her speed was kept to almost nothing because the charts of thenavigators were useless. The charts had been made in that far futurewhich the battle wagon had quitted forever and they revealed nothingabout this sea. There might be a mile of water under the ship. She mightbe scraping bottom. The navigators were going mad worrying about whatmight be under the ship. Captain Higgins was going mad worrying not onlyabout what might be under the ship but about what might soon be over it,when the mysterious planes returned. The pilot of the scouting plane hadbeen rescued. He had not lived to tell what he had found.
Craig was aware of a shadow near him but he thought it was one of thecrew until the match flared. It was Margy Sharp. She was lighting acigarette.
A sharp reprimand from an officer caused her to drop the match.
"What's wrong?" she demanded. "Why can't I smoke?"
"Blackout," Craig said.
"Oh, it's _you_," the girl spoke.
"Where have you been?" Craig asked. "I looked around for you but Icouldn't find you."
"In the hospital," she said. "Helping out a baffled doctor."
"How is English?" Craig asked.
"English has been dead for hours," she said. "I've been with Mrs.Miller."
"Oh! How is she?"
"Fine. But the doctor almost went nuts. He said it was the first time innaval history that a baby had been born on a battleship. He seemed tothink it violated the rules of etiquette, or something. It was a girl,"she went on, a little breathlessly now, as if talking about babies madeher excited. "Mrs. Miller said she was going to name it Margaret, afterme. Isn't that nice? She says her husband will be worried to death abouther and she wants to use the ship's radio to send him a message. Do youthink she could do that?"
"Do I--" Craig choked. "Listen, girl, do you know what has happened?"
The tone of his voice alarmed her. "No," she said quickly. "I don'tknow. What has happened?"
She had been busy down in the hospital bay, too busy to wonder what wasgoing on up above. Craig told her the whole story. She listened inincredulous amazement. He had to tell it twice before she began tounderstand it. And then she didn't believe it.
"You're kidding me," she said.
"Sorry," Craig answered. "But I'm not kidding."
"You mean--you actually mean we're back somewhere in the past?"
"Exactly."
"But--but what are we going to do?"
* * * * *
The big man shrugged. "We're going to wait and see what happens. That'sall we can do. Wait and see." There were tones of excitement in hisvoice.
"You sound pleased about this," she challenged.
"I'm not pleased," he quickly corrected her. "I'm sorry for Mrs. Millerand for Margaret, for you, for Captain Higgins, and the men on theIdaho. But as for myself--well, I'm not sorry. This is the ultimateadventure. We have a new world to explore, new things to see. I knowhundreds of men who would give an arm to be dropped back here into thisworld. I've met them in every mining camp I ever saw, in every tradingpost on the frontiers of civilization, in every corner of earth. Theywere misfits, most of them. I'm a misfit, or I was, back in our time. Ididn't belong, I didn't fit in. I wasn't a business man, I never wouldhave made a business man. I couldn't have been a lawyer or a clerk or awhite-collar worker. But here--well I seem to belong here. This is mytime, this is my place in the world." He broke off. "I don't know why Iam telling you all this," he said shortly.
She had listened quietly and sympathetically. "You can tell me," shesaid. "Remember, back in the life-boat, when I told you we were two of akind? I didn't fit in, either, back home. I belong here too."
She had moved closer to him, in the soft darkness. He could sense hernearness, sense her womanliness. He started to put his arms around her.
"Well," a voice said behind him.
Craig turned. Voronoff stood there. "What do you want?" Craig said.
"From you, I want nothing," Voronoff answered. "I was not speaking toyou. I, at least, have not forgotten about the water."
"The water?" Craig said puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"The water that wasn't in the cask we had in the life-boat," Voronoffanswered. "The water that you drank in the night when the rest of uswere asleep."
"Damn you--" Craig said.
Voronoff walked away. Craig made no attempt to follow him. He hadcompletely forgotten about the water. With an effort, he got his temperunder control and turned back to the girl.
She had turned away and was looking at the sea. When Craig spoke, shedid not answer. A moment before, a warm magic had been between them.Voronoff's words had changed the warmth to coldness.
* * * * *
That night the lookouts on the Idaho were constantly reporting that theship was being shadowed. Overhead in the darkness were planes, silentplanes. The lookout occasionally spotted them against the moon.
The fact that the planes flew silently, like shadows in the night,perturbed the lookouts and their uneasiness was communicated to thecrew. No one would have much minded planes that made the proper amountof noise, but ghost planes that made no noise at all were dreadfulthings. The silent planes scouted the ship, then seemed to disappear. Atleast they were no longer visible, but whether or not they were stillhidden somewhere in the sky, no one knew. They made no attempt to bombthe ship, or to attack it in any way. This seemed ominous.
The Idaho carried four planes of her own. One had been lost. Beforedawn, Captain Higgins ordered another catapulted into the sky, to searchthe surrounding area. This plane went aloft. It was not attacked ormolested. The pilot, by radio, reported the presence of a large body ofland very near. Navigators, consulting their charts, discovered thatthis body of land was not on any of their maps.
Dawn, that hour of danger when an attack might reasonably be expected,came. The crew of the Idaho stood by their guns, waiting. No attackcame.
The sun rose. Still there was no attack. The ship, moving very slowly,entered an area where the surface of the sea seemed to have turned tosilver. This effect was caused by some oily substance that floated onthe water, a new phenomenon to officers and men alike.
On the horizon the land mass the pilot of the scouting plane hadreported was dimly visible, a range of forested hills sloping upward tomountains in the background, the rim of some mighty continent of the oldtime. Later, millions of years later, only the tops of these mountainswould remain above the sea, to form the thousands of islands of thePacific.
* * * * *
Craig breakfasted below. He came on deck just as the alarm sounded. Thecrew raced to their stations. He discovered the cause of the alarm.
Overhead, at a height of thirty to thirty-five thousand feet, was aplane. It was shadowing the ship. It made no attempt to attack. Craigwent to the bridge. Captain Higgins had been on the bridge all night. Hewas still there. He greeted Craig wanly.
"We're being watched," Higgins said. "I don't like it."
"Anything we can do about it?"
Higgins squinted upward through his glasses. "Too high for ack-ack. No,there is nothing we can do about it. And I'm not sure we want to doanything about it."
"What do you mean?"
"We're not fighting a war here in _this_ time," the captain answered."We don't want to fight, if we can possibly avoid it."
"It may be a problem to avoid fighting," Craig said. "Remember, theyshot down the pilot of your scouting plane."
"I remember," Higgins said grimly.
"Of course, we could surrender," Craig suggested.
"How would you like to go to hell?" Higgins said.
"It was only
an idea," Craig grinned. "But I don't like this business.We don't know what we're trying to avoid fighting, or what strength theyhave, or how they will attack, if they attack."
"I don't like it either," Higgins answered. "But I didn't choose it.Damn them, if they're going to attack, I wish they would get on withit!"
Over the huge ship the tiny plane circled. Every man on the Idaho knewthe situation was nasty. They were being watched. There was nothing theycould do to stop it. The shadowing plane was above anti-aircraft fire.The warship could not hide from it. There was no protecting destroyer tolay a friendly smoke screen to shield them from the eyes in the sky.Meanwhile, somewhere around them a hidden enemy might be marshallingforces to destroy them.
"Have you tried to contact them?" Craig asked.
"I tried to reach them by radio all last night," Higgins answered."There was no answer. The radio operators say there are no signals inthe air. This, plus the fact that they have not attempted to answer oursignals, forces me to the conclusion that they have not discoveredradio. Of course they may use wave bands beyond the range of outreceivers--Hello! What's that?"
From somewhere near them a shout had sounded.
Leaning over the edge of the bridge, Craig saw a sailor on the lowerdeck. The man was also leaning over pointing down toward the sea. Heshouted again and turned upward toward the bridge. His face was whitewith terror.
"What is it?" Captain Higgins demanded.
"It's--It's that silver stuff on the surface, sir," the sailor answered."It's--it's eating the sides of the ship sir. It's eating the ship."
The Idaho was still in the area of the bright substance that floated onthe surface of the sea. Captain Higgins raced from the bridge down tothe main deck. Craig followed him. By the time they reached the spotwhere the sailor was standing several other officers had gathered. Theywere all staring down at the sea.
Craig leaned over the rail, looked down. Horror tightened an iron bandaround his heart.
* * * * *
At the waterline, a great gash had been eaten into the steel hull of theIdaho. The plates of the ship were the best grade of chrome steel,heat-treated and hardened. They were designed to withstand the batteringof sixteen-inch shells. The steel in them was the toughest metal thathad ever come out of Pittsburgh.
Where the oily, shiny substance touched it, the steel was crumblingaway.
"Acid!" Craig heard an officer gasp. "That's what the silver stuff is.Acid! They sprayed it on the sea."
"They plotted our course and set a booby-trap for us."
"That can't be an acid," someone protested. "It is impossible to securea concentration of acid on the surface of the sea strong enough to eatholes in steel."
"Maybe it's impossible but it sure as hell has happened!"
Each passing wave tossed the oily liquid against the hull of the Idaho.It hissed softly when it struck and promptly began its deadly work. Whatwas happening below the waterline was not visible. Probably no damagewas being done there because the acid was on the surface and did nottouch the areas below the waterline. But enough damage was being doneabove the water! Pits two inches deep were already appearing in thesteel sides of the ship.
"Full speed ahead!" Captain Higgins ordered.
Their hope was to get out of the area covered by the acid and to get outof it quickly. But--the patch of silver was miles in extent. And therewas no way to determine exactly how much damage had been done to theship. The line of corrosion extending around the hull might haveweakened her so badly that she was unseaworthy.
Captain Higgins took the only possible course. He ordered the ship tomake for land.
* * * * *
Two hours later the Idaho was resting in a natural harbor between lowhills. A river emptied into the sea here. Captain Higgins had grownyears older as he took the ship into the mouth of the harbor. He had nocharts of the place, no way of knowing how much water was available, orwhether there were hidden reefs waiting to rip the bottom out of theship. He took her in blind, the hardest job any ship's master ever hasto face.
Like a wounded lion, the Idaho was seeking a place where she could lieup and determine how badly she had been hurt. In entering the harbor shewas going into what might easily be a death trap but if she stayedoutside, her weakened hull might give away and she might go down withall hands.
Higgins sent his engineers in boats to determine how much damage hadbeen done to the hull. With his officers, he waited on the bridge forthe engineers to report. There was none of the acid on the surface ofthe harbor.
Craig heard the chief engineer report.
"The hull is so weak that the ship may sink at any moment, sir. Aneffort to move her might crumble the plates. Holes in the sides six toeight inches deep, sir."
The captain's hands on the rail of the bridge tightened until theknuckles showed white.
"Very well," he said. "Beach her."
"Beach her, sir?"
"Yes. If we stay here, we may find more of that acid sprayed on thewater, in which case the ship will sink."
The crew began preparations to carry out the orders. The Idaho was done,finished, ended.
High overhead the single watchful plane still circled.
Higgins shook his fist at it. "Damn you--" he said. "Damn you--"
The Idaho was carefully brought into the mouth of the river until shetouched bottom. Fortunately the bottom was sandy mud. The ship sighedand settled herself into it like a tired sea monster coming out of theocean to die. Everyone on board her knew that this was the ship's lastresting place. Her steel bones would remain here until they rusted away.As the ship's keel grated on the bottom, Captain Higgins looked like aman who is hearing his own death sentence but his back was stiff as aramrod and his chin was high.
The Lost Warship Page 4