“I don’t see any lines. I assume we’re cast off from the pier.”
“I assume so, too,” Walker said. “Best to confirm, though.”
Cahill tapped an icon to connect via radio to the submarine behind him.
“Specter, Goliath. Over,” he said.
“Goliath, Specter. Go ahead. Over,” Renard said.
“Am I free from the pier? Over.”
“Yes. You may submerge when ready. Over.”
“I’m ready. Stand by. Out.”
Cahill tapped icons and then stepped to the aft of the bridge. Behind and below his window, bubbles rose from the Goliath’s submerged ballast tank vents under the starboard hull.
“Ten meters,” Walker said. “Eleven. Twelve.”
As the Goliath sank, bubbles burst from cargo tanks under the centerline bed that would cradle the Specter.
Placid water lapped the bridge windows, refracting artificial light across the consoles. A look over his shoulder revealed the port and starboard weapons bays at the sterns of his ship remaining visible above the submerging transport vessel.
“Fifteen meters,” Walker said.
As he shortened the distance of his gaze, Cahill watched the water creep up the bridge windows.
“The ship is submerged and is stopping its descent,” Walker said. “We’re steady at twenty meters.”
“Very well. We’ve still got a few meters below us. Lowering the outboards.”
“It’s tight, but I agree,” Walker said. “We need them.”
“Outboards are lowered. Energizing side-scan sonar.”
Cahill tapped an icon that brought the Goliath’s extensive side-scan acoustic search system to life. Selecting the rearward-looking perspective to his monitor, he set his ship crawling backwards.
“Energizing outboards on course three-three-five, speed one-half knot.”
Minutes later, the rounded form of the Specter’s hull, floating in the underground basin, appeared on his monitor.
“I see it,” Cahill said.
“Me too. Care to let the automated system handle it from here?”
“Let’s give it a go.”
He tapped an image and then folded his arms. As the Goliath continued its reverse crawl under the Specter, the submarine’s oblong shape appeared over the transport ship’s centerline cradle. He turned and watched his cargo’s dark form glide forward between his hulls.
“It’s left of center, Terry. Its stern is too far to our port side.”
“Let’s see how the system handles it.”
“Right. Agreed.”
The Specter’s shape walked forward on the sonar display, and the four icons of the outboard motors, one under each corner of the Goliath, indicated a quick reversal followed by a burst to stop the ship.
Then two diagonal outboards flipped ninety degrees, spun their propellers to twist the twin hulls, and then hit rapid reverses to return the ship to motionlessness.
“That aligned us,” Walker said. “System-calculated distance from the bed to the cargo’s keel is two meters.”
“Very well. Keep an eye on our trim. No need to snap pieces off either ship before we begin our trip.”
“Trim control is in automatic loading mode, set at one meter per minute rise rate.”
Cahill shot periodic glances at the display to double-check Walker’s double-checking of the automated loading. Instead of seeing the errors he feared, he admired the Goliath’s delicate computerized dance of shuffling water fore and aft between its trim tanks to stay level while shedding water overboard to gain levity.
He absorbed the reversed illusion of the Specter falling through translucent liquid into the Goliath’s waiting cradle.
“Per protocol, the system is stopping the ascent to allow us to assess for manual adjustments,” Walker said.
“No need. Continue loading.”
Cahill watched the Goliath’s retracted hydraulic presses climb up the cargo’s side like mechanical fingers.
“Slowing to half a meter per minute.”
“Very well.”
“Contact!”
“Verify bed pressure.”
“Bed pressure is verified. We’re bearing the cargo’s weight.”
“Engage the presses!” Cahill said.
“Done. Presses are engaged.”
The presses rotated and pinned down the submarine.
“Let’s try our laser communications,” Cahill said.
He tapped an icon.
“Specter, Goliath, test of laser communications system. Over.”
“Goliath, Specter, test is satisfactory.”
“It works!”
“Of course, it works,” Renard said. “Would I ever steer you wrongly? This is a highly secure line. Once our connection is verified, there’s no need for radio protocols. You can speak as if talking within your own ship.”
“Okay, mate. Got it. What’s next?”
“I’ll order the final covering of the facade. It will take several hours. I recommend you get some rest.”
Cahill checked the clock and realized that the local time was approaching ten o’clock at night.
“Right,” he said. “We’ll all get some sleep except for a minimal watch section. Call me when we’re ready.”
“I’ll take the watch, Terry,” Walker said. “You need to be in top form for the egress. I’ll catch up on sleep later.”
“Thanks, Liam.”
Cahill passed through a door, latched it behind him, and descended a steep stairway to a tight, odd-shaped compartment under which welds held the rakish bow module to the cylindrical, submarine-based section.
As he reached for a watertight door, a peek in the bilge revealed the inverted triangular keel section, which provided stability and added buoyancy, continuing underneath the ship. Swinging the door open, he stepped through its machined frame into the familiar, circular-ribbed world of a submarine.
Lacking a torpedo room, the Goliath presented Cahill its tactical control room as its first cylindrical compartment. Four men staffed the space, with three seated in front of consoles and a supervisor hovering over them.
“Good evening, sir,” the supervisor said.
The young leader had been an officer aboard Cahill’s submarine prior to quitting the Australian Navy for lucrative mercenary adventures. He had also joined him in the Goliath’s maiden mission near the Korean Peninsula.
“Get some sleep,” Cahill said. “We’ve got a few hours.”
“This fake ship that’s surrounding us. I don’t like it. None of us do. It’s going to create flow noise.”
“I know. But if it works, we’ll be hiding in plain sight. Nobody will give us a second look.”
He continued his sternward walk, passing electronic cabinets that appeared where he would have expected a conning platform and a periscope on a Scorpène-class submarine.
As he passed into the elongated berthing area, he thought about going into his stateroom, but he opted to explore the starboard hull, which held the bulk of his crew. He crept into the ghost-silent scullery and then continued to the mess hall.
As he entered the next compartment, he tested his memory to recall the term MESMA as an acronym for the French-designed Module-Energy, Sub-Marine, Autonomous ethanol-liquid-oxygen propulsion plant. Unlike the Specter, with one MESMA plant, the Goliath’s design of three per each catamaran-inspired hull impressed him. They provided his ship much of its cylindrical length, and with half the battery capacity and twice the mass of the Specter, the Goliath relied upon the plants for undersea power.