Counterpoint (48 page)

The nine-o-clock morning sun was
streaming through the glass roof of the Atrium over Carla’s
hideaway. Max and Carla meandered through the garden below, idly
talking, drinking freshly ground Columbian coffee and enjoying the
exotic scent from the many plants, stimulated by the sun.

Their peace and tranquillity was
suddenly shattered by the shrill tone of the telephone. Carla ran
to take the call, they were invariably for her. The week had been
very quiet for both of them and secretly she was getting bored, she
needed her fix of excitement.

“Good morning Carla” said Sam Leighton,
at the other end, “I have two assignments, one for each of you and
they are both urgent. Can you come at once?”

“Yes, of course Sam, see you in half an
hour.” Carla knew the question was a polite way of issuing a
command. Neither of them actually had a choice if they wanted to
continue to work for The Organisation.

“Max!” She called from the entrance
hall, “we have to go! Maria! Got to dash I’m afraid, can you tidy
up please, I won’t have time to do it.”

“Of course, Miss Carla.”

There was deep mutual respect between
the women. Maria loved to look after Carla and Max as much as she
knew Carla needed her.

As usual, Carla drove to the mountain
home of her late employer and mentor, The Duke. She had sold off
her old Honda Prelude and bought the Dukes silver Porsche for old
time’s sake. She still missed him and sometimes when she was not
under pressure, she would pretend to herself that he was there in
the car with her. That was easy to do when Max was with her,
although nothing like the Duke, he had a tremendous calming effect
on her, he was now her rock.

With a minute to spare, they both
knocked on Sam’s office door and entered, as it instantly swung
open. Sam motioned for them to be seated, and launched into the
briefing.

“Max, you first. We have a
revolutionary new submarine called US1. Short for Universal
Submarine 1, ready for its final trials, and I need you to go along
as an observer for The Organisation. You will need some training as
technical supervisor, but it is, I assure you, just a watching
brief. You will be away for about a month.”

Sam proceeded to outline the unique
aspects of the new vessel and The Organisations involvement in its
development.

“The vessel is modular apart from the
two ends and the engine and control section, generally the middle
part. Special hull sections can be added or removed, to make it
longer or shorter, or to deal with research or military
applications, as necessary.

The propulsion system is unbelievably
simple, yet can drive the vessel at about 60 knots underwater.

Imagine a water filled, horizontal tube
with a disc inside it, like a piston. As the disc is forced along
the tube, water is forced out one end and sucked in at the other.
As it returns back along the tube, segments open, a bit like
venetian blinds opening and closing, allowing the water to pass the
open disc unimpeded. The segments close and the cycle repeats. This
would produce a jerky, pulse of water at the outlet. By introducing
a second disc, it can be returned as the first is propelling and
then the second starts propelling as the first returns. The jet of
water becomes smooth and continuous. The discs are driven by linear
electric motors so apart from the discs and their segments; there
are no other moving parts.

There are novel
modifications to the original hull design to make it virtually
silent, even at full speed. It is coated with a thick plastic
material that mimics the skin of a shark. The fine indentations on
it are rough to the touch, but at speed, the water has no time to
flow back into them and effectively, barely touches the coating at
all. The very low drag and sleek shape, reduce turbulence and
therefore, noise. Another
first
is the incredible depth the vessel can go down
too for its size.

Although US1 could theoretically
operate un-manned, it is under manual control most of the time, and
the results are compared with the automated system. So far the
automatic system has behaved perfectly.

One of our associate companies
developed a 3D vision system that detects the abundant, but low
level natural background radiation. It sees the emitted energy like
a soft glow of light from the object's surface. The result is a 360
degree display for the pilot, of everything around the submarine,
just like the hull is glass and the water is crystal clear. It’s
truly awesome!”

Max asked, “What am I particularly
looking out for?”

“The contributors to the vessel have a
vested interest in hiding any defects or shortfall in the design;
we need to know about them. With a good understanding of the broad
technical capability and its systems, you will know if something is
failing to perform. You will be our eyes and ears.”

“Fine, ” said Max.

“Here are your detailed instructions
and air tickets.”

“Carla, your assignment is quite
different. Senator Goodwin has asked me to find his daughter,
Ingrid. She is about your age, and inexplicably left her job, as
assistant to the head of geology, in Washington. It appears she has
become emotionally involved with a young man, who was running a
drilling operation in South America.”

“Girls do that sort of thing all the
time,” stated Carla rather indignantly. She didn’t like Sam’s
mission already, she was not the private detective type and even
worse, objected to his inference of being like Ingrid, able to
understand a silly emotional girl.

“There is more to this than meets the
eye,” replied Sam firmly. “Through normal government channels, the
Senator has discovered the drilling operation is both odd and
cloaked in mystery. It’s odd because it has only drilled in one
location, the depth is shallow, but an extremely large diameter
hole. There appears to be no purpose for the procedure, no minerals
are known to exist there, and none has been found. Further
investigation has revealed the equipment is being leased, and no
material or identifiable person or company, is funding the
project.

According to the Senator, it is
entirely out of character for Ingrid to just up and leave like
this, she loved her job and family; they are extremely close. She
is a bit of a boffin type by all accounts.

The Senator has asked for our help in
case there is something politically damaging at the root of the
affair that would become public knowledge, if say, the F.B.I or
police were involved. Anyway, it is outside their jurisdiction and
the local law enforcement is not interested. Either they are being
paid off, or it is too domestic for them.

A man called Mike Teal; a senior agent
at the F.B.I. has been doing the background digging and
investigation of the drilling operation for the Senator. You both
know him don’t you,” said Sam smiling.

They both felt the tingle of anxiety
and fear at the mention of his name. “Don’t worry about Teal;”
assured Sam, “he did very well out of the Gregor affair. He was
promoted and is held in high esteem, with the President, no less.
Teal knows he will drop from favour if the President hears you two
were the key players, not Teal. Anyway, rumour has it that his
computer technician made a mistake with bank account numbers and
all the money paid by the arms buyers, disappeared without a trace.
As you know, the poor man died, and the computer was destroyed in
the warehouse fire, so the truth died with him. I am sure Teal
would hate to have the subject of the lost funds brought up
again.”

Max and Carla looked at each other with
relief at what Sam had just said. Their worries about the FBI
coming after them, melted away, but what the FBI would do about the
arms payments, going into a secret account belonging to Max &
Carla, was another matter.

“We have booked you both on the same
flight to Mexico City, and then you go your separate ways. Here are
your detailed instructions, all the background we have on the case
so far, and your tickets, Carla.”

At the airport, Carla took another
flight to Minatitlan and then a taxi, to take her to a hotel. Using
that as her base, she decided to hire a jeep to take her out to the
drilling site. She hoped to pick up Ingrid’s trail from there.

Max was met by Ron Aldridge, the
project coordinator for the team, who designed and produced the
submarine. The tall welsh man appeared to be rather laid back for
someone with such awesome responsibility, but Max soon discovered
this was just a front to cover his shyness with newcomers. He soon
switched back to his normal self, intense and focused, with his
team around him.

Max and Ron flew by Cessna, to a
recently laid landing strip and from there to the sub base, near
Veracruz, by land rover.

For the next three weeks, Max had
little time to worry about Carla, but there was always the fear for
her safety in the back of his mind. She always managed to attract
danger and excitement somehow; still she always came out on top, so
far at least.

At the US1 base, Max was introduced to
the technical team, and Captain Williams, who commanded the new
vessel.

Max found the technical aspects of his
role with the team most interesting; fortunately, he had no trouble
absorbing the superficial detail of how things worked. Whereas each
member of the on-board team was a specialist in his field, Max only
had to consider the big picture.

Tomorrow was the big day. Military and
civilian procurement personnel would be on board along with two
scientific advisors from the Presidential staff. They would all be
looking to buy specialised versions of the sub for their own needs,
so everything had to run smoothly.

Just as Sam had said, the vessel was
extraordinary in so many ways. It was the sweeping aside of the
traditional ideas of how to design and build a submarine, and use
workable technology in an exciting new way.

The modular approach to hull design
made the cost savings of mass production a reality. The change
between carrying ICBMs or collecting manganese nodules from the sea
bed, was mainly switching sections of hull.

The potential for high speed and silent
running was of considerable interest to the military.

Everyone was impressed by the control
and navigation system. The designers claimed the sub could be run
indefinitely, without anyone being aboard. Using the same sensor
and visual information available to a crew, the system could go
from place to place or even patrol and observe without human
intervention. A very attractive proposition, but even the
designer’s weren’t prepared to let it off the leash yet. Primary
control remained manual, and was compared with the automatic system
recommendations.

The team came on board at 8.00 am, and
guests, 2 hours later, casting off 30 minutes after that. Because
the trials would take place over several days, luxurious cabin
facilities had been installed.

Those familiar with the immense surge
of smooth power, as the large vessel accelerated to open water in
the Gulf of Mexico, and the quiet, vibration free hum of pumps and
motors, filled them with pride.

The guests were already amazed at the
enormous space inside US1, free of the tangle of pipes, levers and
wheel valves found in conventional craft. Some even wondered if
they were being conned and that this was just a simulation.

As required by law, the medical staff
were also aboard, Dr Tony Homer and his female nurse assistant Kate
Winslow, routinely carried out their medical equipment checks. Dr
Homer specialised in the breathing gasses and verified the readouts
were within acceptable limits.

Two hours out, Kate left the cabin to
get coffee for both of them. Homer opened the drugs cupboard and
took out a large bottle of chloroform. On the control panel, he
clicked a few switches and finally locked out the alarm sounder,
and went aft to the filter and air purification plant. Next he
released the spring catches to the last filter box, took a deep
breath and poured the chloroform into it. With the filter cover
replaced he moved briskly forward to a conduit cover plate, outside
the radio room. The whirring of the electric screwdriver lasted
just five nail biting seconds, any second now, someone would see or
hear him and he would be caught. A few more seconds and the power
supply cable to the radio room was disconnected. All communication
to the outside world was now lost. Back in the medical cabin, Homer
took out an Oxygen mask and waited, sweating profusely and
trembling, for ten agonisingly long minutes.

Homer then got up and reset the
switches, but not the alarm, that would kick in automatically in
five minutes anyway. Finally, he replaced the filter and bagged up
the contaminated one in polythene. The air would be fresh again in
ten minutes.

A quick search showed everyone else had
succumbed to the anaesthetic and was out cold.

In the main control room, Homer shut
down the power to the propulsion units, and the vessel slowed to a
stop just six metres below the surface.

As the Doctor busied himself
handcuffing the bodies to each other and convenient anchor points,
way below him approached an old wartime submarine.

At the submarine base the moment
telemetry and communications were broken, everyone was at full
alert. Satellite checks on the area would not be available for an
hour or so, but reconnaissance aircraft were mobilised at once. The
motionless craft, in the clear water, was soon spotted from the
air, and rescue vessels were already on their way to the last point
of contact.