“You know that for a fact, sir?”
“We got an intel brief at the last periscope depth. Pacino called for our position and everyone else’s and ordered the initial task force of subs into the Oparea. Only seven ships, not counting the Pasadena in the Sea of Japan. Which means he needs some serious help.”
“Wow.”
“Which means I need to deliver Piranha into the Oparea now, not twenty-six hours from now. So, do you have any. recommendations, Eng?”
Hornick had come a long way since Phillips had arrived at Electric Boat. He smiled slightly, his eyes slits against the smoke of his cigar clenched between his teeth.
“As a matter of fact I’ve been working up something for you. Skipper. I think I can do better than the forty-three knots we’re doing now. We’re seeing a lot of drag from the Vortex tubes out there in the potential flow field around the hull. But we have a hell of a lot of unused reactor power. I did some research into the design calculations of the power train, from the propulsor to the thrust bearing through the reduction gears to the main engine rotors and casing, including the journal bearings. I followed the design upstream through the steam headers to the steam generators, and back the other way through the condensate system, looking at pumps and maximum flow rates. The steam generators’ ability to put out dry steam at rates greater than designed was catalogued in the files, and I took it back into the main coolant loop to the core, looked at core metal temperatures and control rod binding at this age in core life.”
Phillips hadn’t the slightest idea what Hornick was talking about. He had just asked him what time it was, and Hornick was building him a watch.
“And?”
“And, sir, I found out that the power plant is designed for conditions at the end of its life, thirty years from now, when the core is full of fission-product poisons, the metal is neutron embrittled, the steam pipes have some slight stress corrosion cracks, the condensers have tube leaks, the feed pumps have seal leaks, the main coolant piping is slightly clogged with corrosion products, the steam generators have lost 5 percent of their tubes and the generator’s chevron moisture traps are eroded and half gone. So that running the ship at 100 percent reactor power will be safe thirty years from now, the designers limited us up front.”
“So, are you saying you have some kind of, what? Hidden reserves of power?”
“Sir, by my calculations we could take the core to 200 percent power with some modifications authorized by you.”
“Like what?”
“I can run in battle-short mode long enough to reset the trip points for the nuclear instruments. That way the plant won’t trip out until it sees 230 percent power. We’ll be raising average coolant temperatures to get better power from the steam, which isn’t all that safe but it will work. Also, I’ll have to restrict access to the aft compartment, we’ll have much higher radiation readings.”
“Will we have permanent damage to the core?”
“Yes, sir,” Hornick said as if it were obvious. “We’ll have some slight fuel-to-coolant leaks, fuel-element failures, and main coolant radioactivity will escalate by a factor of ten to twenty. You won’t be able to walk through the tunnel without your hair standing on end. And when this mission is over we’ll have to shitcan the reactor and decontaminate the entire reactor compartment and every piping system inside it. Other than that, nothing should break. We’ll be able to double thermal power going to the turbines.”
“How does all that relate to velocity?”
“Well, sir, doubling shaft horsepower won’t double ship speed. With parasitic drag, to double velocity would require you to quadruple your power. So by doubling power we’ll only have 41 percent more speed. That’s about sixty-one knots.”
“You’re kidding me, Eng.”
“We won’t know till I crank it, sir, but hell, I say go for it.”
“Admiral Rickover will spin in his grave.” The father of the nuclear navy, Phillips knew, was such a stickler for reactor safety that he would probably haunt the ship. “Sir, his tomb was empty three days after he died.”
Phillips laughed. “Okay, Eng. What the hell order do I give you to make all this happen?”
“Well, why don’t you say, ‘Engineer, elevate reactor limits to 200 percent.’ Then, when you’re ready to give it the gas, order the helm to go to emergency flank.”
Phillips gave the order,
Hornick vanished aft, still puffing on the cigar. Phillips walked into control, briefing the O.O.D on what the engineer would be up to.
As the ship accelerated to emergency flank, the velocity indicator passing forty-five, then fifty, fifty-five knots, on to 59.8, slowly increasing to sixty, topping out at 60.6 knots, the deck shook steadily. Everywhere that Phillips walked, the ship trembled, the vibration irritating but then, who cared as long as the ship could make the speed? He peered over the chart flat panel and calculated the time to the Oparea. With their new-found speed they would be in the Oparea in slightly over eighteen hours.
Hornick showed up on the conn, the deck still trembling.
“Anything you can do about the vibration, Eng?” Phillips asked.
“Sorry, sir. I made sure it wasn’t the thrust bearing or the drive train. I think the shaking is from the Vortex missiles. Some kind of turbulence from hauling them through the water at the speed of a torpedo. Plus we’re unbalanced with the first one gone.”
“Think the shaking will hurt the ship?”
“The electronics should handle it,” Hornick said. “It’s the crew I worry about. Bad for crew fatigue.”
“THIS IS THE CAPTAIN,” Phillips said into the circuit one microphone, his voice booming through the ship. “WE ARE RUNNING FOR THE OPAREA AT EMERGENCY FLANK. YOU’LL ALL BE HAPPY TO KNOW WE’RE BREAKING A US SUBMERGED SPEED RECORD AT OVER SIXTY KNOTS. THAT IS WHAT IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DECK VIBRATIONS, WHICH COULD LEAD TO CREW FATIGUE. FOR THE NEXT EIGHTEEN HOURS ALL OFF-WATCH PERSONNEL ARE ORDERED TO THEIR RACKS. GET SOME SLEEP, GENTLEMEN. ONCE WE’RE IN THE OPAREA THERE WON’T BE MUCH SLEEP FOR ANY OF US.” Phillips clicked off, looked at Hornick, then at his watch. “Eng, I think I’m going to follow my own advice.”
“Aye, sir. I’ll be aft. I want to make sure the protection circuitry modifications go down okay.”
Phillips was asleep within thirty seconds of hitting his pillow.
CHAPTER 31
Tanaka walked into the crew messroom. All fourteen junior officers and Hiro Mazdai were now present. In a corner of the room the Second Captain displays rotated through the navigation, sensor, ship control and weapons-status panels. There was no one in the control room during the briefing — the Second Captain had complete control. While they were in the waters where Tanaka expected to see contact with the enemy submarines, he would need to brief his officers, and the sooner the better.
The officers stood at attention as he walked into the oblong room, its central feature the long narrow conference table. Tanaka waved the men to their seats and poured himself a cup of tea, then sat at the head of the table, consulted the notes on his personal computer pad, looked up.
“Officers, I will be brief. Item one — the history to date. The Three-class ships sent into the deep Pacific have experienced success. The surface-action groups being sent here have been attacked successfully. Three aircraft carriers and their associated ships have been put on the bottom. I believe few of the Destiny III submarines survived the encounters, the escort submarines are assumed to have sunk them. So at this point we have only Two-class submarines to defend the waters of the Home Islands.”