“No. This ship can submerge, but it’s a poor combat submarine. Unless we crawl at a near drift, the flow noise over this forest of metallic jagged edges will serve as a beacon to the Specter and the Wraith.”
“Then I need to make a decision.”
“About what?”
“Submerging now, or waiting until I can bring up all the MESMA plants and the port propulsion plant.”
“Why would you submerge now? We need speed. You just said it yourself that you wanted to get far from danger.”
“True, but I’m also concerned about aircraft now.”
The commander scoffed. “We can always submerge under aircraft if needed.”
“But how fast? One missile could ruin everything.”
“The submarines have missiles and could shoot us now if they wanted to. They’re not risking the damage of an anti-ship missile to their flagship.”
“But what about the smaller rockets gunships carry, and what about airborne cannons?”
“That’s why this ship has Stinger missiles.”
“You mean, we think it has Stinger missiles.”
“We’ll find them. It’s only a matter of time. Staying surfaced is the obvious decision.”
The colonel grunted. “Then why do I have an eerie feeling that there’s a combat aircraft coming for us?”
“You’re paranoid. It’s your job to be, I suppose.”
The colonel challenged his companion’s diagnosis. “It’s not paranoia when it’s real. There are several nations Renard can call upon to challenge us.”
“What sovereign nation would attack unidentified assailants who commandeered a dangerous mercenary warship?”
“He’s dining with one of them as we speak.”
“Just because they’re willing to fly his crews to his submarines doesn’t mean they’re willing to risk their lives.”
“The Omanis may take our actions as a personal affront. We stole the Goliath from their waters.”
The commander was cynical. “I’m sure the local economy will survive.”
Footsteps echoed from the stairway behind the bridge, and a commando appeared. He grabbed night vision optics, lifted them to his face, and kept his mouth shut to avoid the argument while scanning for threats.
The colonel challenged the cynicism. “I still think we should be submerged.”
“But you’ve entrusted the naval tactics to me. We need to outrun the submarines.”
“So be it. But get ready to submerge as quickly as possible.”
“I found the top level of the diving procedure in the menu system, but I didn’t have time to work through it.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, you’ll have to explore it yourself unless you want one of us to stop scanning our surroundings.”
Fumbling through icons brought the submergence routine to the foreground. “I found the diving icon. What happens if I tap it?”
“I can only guess. Tap it and find out.”
“That’s cavalier for a man who wants to stay surfaced.”
“I also want to understand this ship.”
The colonel’s fingertip’s electrical capacitance invoked a deeper menu. “Nothing happened other than bringing up a new screen.”
“What’s on the new screen?”
“More icons. One for each gas turbine, each main air intake, each railgun, and the Phalanx point-defense system. It also looks like a status of each hatch.”
“That’s to prevent submerging with an open hole.”
“I see. Some are highlighted with a red outline while others are outlined in green.”
The commander lowered his optics and craned his neck. “My guess is that when they’re all outlined in green, you can press the top icon, and the ship will submerge itself.”
“What about these?”
“Those look like pumps. My guess, and it’s only a guess—”
“Stop that. I know you’re guessing. Let’s move beyond the qualifiers for each piece of advice.”
“Understood. Those look like trim and drain pumps. If you use them, you’ll suck water into the ship much faster than free flooding, and we’ll submerge faster.”
“I like that. Should I tap them?”
“Go ahead.”
The colonel’s gentle finger presses turned red outlines framing pump graphics to dotted green. “I think that worked.”
“My guess… assessment… is that you just shifted the pumps from off to standby.”
“Call it a guess when it’s a guess. Call it a certainty when it’s a certainty. Just don’t dwell on the uncertainty like an attorney.”
“Yes. That’s my guess. But it’s a good guess.”
“So they’ll automatically start if I press the diving icon?”
A pensive look overtook the lean commander’s face. “Submarines have been my life, but I don’t know. Better said, I can’t know. This ship is unique, and nobody but a select few understand its inner workings.”
“I told you that guessing is acceptable.”
“I’m tired of guessing, and your paranoia has worn me out. Let’s submerge this ship now to assure ourselves we can. Then we’ll surface again to run from the submarines.”
“I see you’re a man of action.”
“Didn’t you notice that from our last hunting trip? I’d rather take a mediocre shot rather than letting an opportunity pass.”
“Indeed, I did notice. So be it. We’re submerging. For something this complex, you’ll have to do it.”
The commander tapped an icon and projected his voice upward. “Engineering, bridge, make turns for nine knots.”
“Bridge, engineering. Making turns for nine knots.”
“Engineering, bridge, I’m going to submerge the ship as a test. Watch and study how the gas turbine shuts down, and watch how the load transfers to the MESMA plant.”
The stocky engineer’s voice issued from the loudspeakers. “Do you want me to shift the load to the MESMA now?”
“No, I want to see how this ship behaves under stress.”
“Okay, I’ll watch for it. We’re ready back here.”
Using the open circuit, the commander raised his voice. “For anyone who didn’t hear that, we’re going to submerge. Everyone watch for water flowing from places that are presently dry. If you see anything like that, shout out your location from the nearest sound-powered phone and describe what you see.”
“Well said.”
“I’m making another guess now.”
“What’s that?”
“That this ship is smart enough to stop submerging on its own instead of continuing to its crush depth while waiting for us to stop its descent. These waters are deep enough to shatter this dome.”
“If something as basic as this maneuver kills us, then today is our day to die.”
“I’ll take that as permission to submerge.”
The thin man pushed an icon, and the world changed. Gentle chimes warned of the pending dive, and pixels on screens pulsed. Then, as commands became actions, machinery moved.
A football field away, each head valve clanked shut, and the gas turbine’s rumbling howl died, giving the shrieking limpets louder life. Soft shaking signaled suction from the sea through centrifugal pumps, and the colonel pointed at accumulating digits that flickered. “What are these numbers?”
“That’s how many kilograms of water we’re taking into our tanks through each pump.”
“I find this ship increasingly impressive. I’ve truly taken Renard’s pride from him.”
The colonel noticed moonlight shimmering atop the swells crawling up the bow. Dark liquid lapped the windows and crept up the dome as the sea swallowed the Goliath. Opaqueness rolled over the hemisphere and the calm water’s blackness blotted out the stars. The deck’s slight angle leveled. “That was unnerving.”