“I really must insist, Captain, that you do your inspection from the other side.”
“I don’t understand, Doctor Zotkin. Is it you do not trust me?”
“I never said that, Captain. It is just that with atomic power we must be careful of radiation. Tumanov and my assistants know how to work with radiation. They have been doing it for months. I would not want your death on my hands.”
Anton glanced at Gesny, who put his finger to his mouth. “Very well, Doctor Zotkin; if you would have Lieutenant Commander Tumanov report to Commander Gesny, then we can tell him what information we need.”
“Information on what?” Zotkin asked sharply.
“Information on the hull. That is all I need.”
Zotkin laughed. “Of course. I will see that this happens.” Zotkin waved his hand toward the hatch. “I think we have been here long enough. After you, comrades.”
Minutes later, Anton and Gesny stood on the pier, watching Zotkin leave through the rear door of the covered dock.
“That was fun,” Gesny muttered.
“Doesn’t want us alone in the reactor areas,” Anton observed. Gesny shrugged. “Personally, I don’t want to be in the reactor area alone or with a crowd or at any time, Captain Zegouniov.” Gesny reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants. “If you want more children in the future, you should not spend a lot of time down there.”
What in the hell was Gesny talking about? There was lead on the hull between the reactor and engineering spaces; he saw it. Touched it while he was in there. He wondered if the aft bulkhead also had lead on it. After several seconds and a questioning look on his face, he asked Gesny what he meant.
Gesny leaned close to Anton. “Comrade Captain, who do you think you saw being transported out by ambulances a couple of weeks ago and earlier today?”
Anton shook his head.
“Most of them were former engineers who have radiation sickness.”
“Are you sure?”
Gesny shrugged. “Who really knows what this atomic power is capable of? All we know is that we have had many of our original engineers replaced since this project started nearly a year ago.”
“Maybe it is the weather?”
Gesny shrugged again. “And, maybe they met my mother-in-law in a dark ally? All I know is that this many sailors do not come down with pneumonia or flu or chest colds or a myriad of other illnesses so severe each has to be replaced.” He snapped his fingers. “Here one day, gone the next.”
“How long has Tumanov been on the project?”
“He has been with it since it began. He is a favorite of Doctor Zotkin.”
“He hasn’t come down sick, has he?”
Gesny shrugged again. “No, but you did not see him in the engineering spaces either, did you? He doesn’t go in there unless he has to, and then he comes out as soon as possible.” A despairing look met Anton when he glanced down at his short, stocky XO. “Did you hear the young doctor called Ivan say something to Zotkin about the patch?”
Anton nodded.
“He was referring to some sort of radiation litmus, or something they wear, that I think tells them when they’ve been exposed to radiation, or how long they’ve been exposed to radiation.”
“Why don’t we have those patches, if this radiation is so dangerous it kills?” Anton asked. Gesny looked uncomfortable. “If what you say is true, Commander Gesny, then everyone on our crew should be wearing them.”
Gesny lifted his hat and ran his hands through his hair. “The last captain asked Zotkin the same question.”
“And the answer?”
“Not sure. The captain was gone the next day. One moment here, and the next, gone.” He looked up at Anton. Then in barely a whisper he added, “Almost a mantra of the Soviet Union, don’t you think? ‘One moment here, and the next gone.’ Somewhere in the West, someone is probably writing a song with those words in it.” Anton straightened. Gesny could be KGB. “I think you forget yourself, XO. We are sailors of the Soviet Union, and our allegiance is to our country and to the party.”
Gesny straightened, his face again impassive. “My apologies, Comrade Captain. I meant it as a joke.”
“Jokes can be dangerous.”
“Let’s hope our country never reaches the point where humor is overridden by political correctness.”
Anton tightened even more. Was Gesny testing his patriotism? He wanted to know more, and Gesny had the information. At the same time, he did not make captain first rank by joking about the Soviet Union or expressing reservations about what he was doing. Orders were orders, and as a Soviet military member, his loyalty had never been questioned. He had no intention of it being questioned here, especially since he was leading a historical moment in Soviet Navy history. He had already identified the dangers to him, to Elena, and to his career. The fire was another danger.
Though Elena was convinced, he doubted he would ever make admiral. But even those with no chance never intentionally burn the bridges of opportunity. He could see. . Anton stopped. Where was his mind going?
At the back of the hangar, a commotion broke out as one of the firefighters collapsed onto the hard deck before anyone could catch him. Gesny took a step away from Anton.
Anton looked at the profile of Gesny. Gesny was a career sailor, the same as he. Even with the crisis of the torpedo room fire, he saw where Gesny had used a damp cloth to remove the soot from the bridge coat. The man’s shoes looked as if they had just been shined. No KGB agent would understand the desire of a submariner to always look his best when ashore. Submerged was another world that few brought topside with them.
Gesny turned. “Exhaustion.”
“I know how they feel.”
“We need to get them back on board or send them to their quarters.” He turned and faced Anton. “Captain, Doctor Zotkin said to keep the men here, but even here, the Arctic wind casts some of its strength. We’ll be dealing with frostbite and exposure if we don’t get them out of this cold.” Gesny pulled a glove off, wet a finger, and raised it. Ice appeared almost instantly, lightly encasing the finger. He showed it to Anton before shaking off the ice and putting the glove back on. He slapped his hands together. “With your permission, Captain?”
Anton took a glove off, raised his hand, and felt the small breeze circulating the freezing air. One knot of wind lowers the temperature another two to three degrees, he thought, as he slipped the glove back on.
Doctor Zotkin cared nothing for the Navy. He was dangerous, but he was the Soviet Union’s hope for an atomic Navy. If his XO continued to express opinions that could hurt the morale of the crew or affected the chance of the test being a success — well, a captain must make a lot of unpopular decisions for the good of the boat.
“If the captain would excuse me, sir, I believe I have offended you with my poor choices of words moments ago. I need to start organizing a working party to start our assessment in the aft torpedo room. May I send the men either to their quarters ashore or bring them back aboard the Whale?”
Anton nodded, declining to answer the question about moving the men. “You have not offended me, XO. I appreciate your candor. I hope that you and I finish this project together here and do not find ourselves in a colder area together where more than a finger can freeze and fall off.”
Gesny agreed. “I understand, sir.”
“Go ahead and send those you don’t need to their quarters inside the facility. Send the others below. Any who must remain outside are to be relieved every thirty minutes.”