TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW (14 page)

BOOK: TW05 The Nautilus Sanction NEW
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“Only what’s he going to do with us?” said Andre.

Count Grigori entered the engine room and stood there, his huge arms folded across his chest.

“I think the conference is over,” Lucas said.

They walked past him out into the companionway. He said nothing to them. They found Verne in the library, reading avidly.

“You’d better do as Drakov suggested, Jules,” said Lucas. “You need to get some rest.”

“How can I rest?” said Verne, indicating the books around him. “There is enough here to keep dozens of scholars busy for decades. I cannot waste a moment of such an opportunity.”

“Jules,” said Andre, “transition can be difficult, especially when you’ve never experienced it before.

Please.”

Verne sighed. “Very well, if you insist. I am beginning to feel a bit weary.” Finn glanced at Lucas. “You think he’d have the library bugged, as well?”

“Bugged?” said Verne.

Lucas explained. “Drakov has planted a listening device somewhere in our cabin.”

“Ah, I see,” said Verne. “And you have been unable to locate it?”

“We’ve searched everywhere,” said Andre.

“You are quite certain?” Verne said.

Lucas shrugged. “I can’t think of anywhere else to look.”

“This device,” said Verne, “it could be quite small, no? Like your alarm device back on the ship?”

“Yes, it probably would be,” Lucas said.

“But you have taken that into consideration and still been unsuccessful?” They nodded.

Verne scratched his chin, thoughtfully. “It is certain he did not expect us to be aboard,” he said. “If such a device was installed in the cabin, it must have been done after we arrived.”

“That would pose no problem,” Finn said. “They’ve had ample opportunity.”

“Yes, yes, but I am thinking you would know what to look for and still you have not found it,” Verne said.

“Don’t concern yourself, Jules,” said Lucas, putting a hand on the writer’s shoulder. “If we couldn’t find it, I doubt you could.”

Verne looked up at him from where he sat and smiled. “I must seem quite primitive to you three,” he said.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Lucas said quickly. “It’s only that—” Verne reached out and unclipped the dosimeter from the belt of Lucas’s jumpsuit. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, then held it up. Lucas frowned, then understanding dawned.

He took the dosimeter from Verne and examined it closely. Then he showed it to Finn and Andre.

They immediately checked theirs, as well. Each contained a listening device.

“I apologize, Jules,” said Lucas. “I didn’t mean to be insulting. You’re quite welcome to search for the listening device, if you want to. But it’s probably a waste of time. Even if we found it, they’d only install another one and hide it more cleverly the second time.” Verne looked puzzled for a moment, then he understood. “Well, you are quite right,
mon ami.
We are, after all, uninvited guests aboard this vessel. One can hardly blame the captain for wishing to be cautious. I will put the matter from my mind and get some rest, as you suggest.” When the diving Klaxon and the missile chimes sounded one after the other, Verne tensed and clenched his fists; he went rigid in his bunk and glanced with alarm at the others. Land was also in his bunk, but Lucas, Finn and Andre sat at the table, playing cards with a deck they borrowed from one of the crewmen.

“It will be all right, Jules,” Finn said. “Try to relax.”

“Relax?” said Verne. “Relax? I am about to travel to another time and you want me to relax? Should you not lie down as well?”

Lucas smiled. “We’ve done this many, many times before, Jules. We’re accustomed to it.”

“What am Ito expect?” said Verne. “How will it feel?
Mon Dieu,
I should have rested more. I am not well. My nerves ... I am dizzy and my stomach—”

Abruptly, he retched.

Aghast, he stared at the mess he had made upon the cabin floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How disgraceful!” he said. “How terribly embarrassing! I am so very sorry, my friends—”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” said Finn. “It’s one of those aftereffects Drakov warned you about. It happens even to seasoned veterans of time travel. You’ll be feeling better shortly.” Verne stared at him. “You mean . . . that was it? It is over?”

“That was it,” said Finn.

“But . . . but nothing happened!”

“You mean you didn’t notice anything happen,” Lucas said. “It would have been much more dramatic if you had been wearing an individual warp disc and clocked from one location to another, but since it was the submarine that made transition and we are inside the submarine, you haven’t noticed anything change. And, in that sense, nothing has.”

“Can’t a man get a bit of sleep around here?” Land said, turning over in his bunk.

“Ned!” said Verne. “I cannot believe it! You slept through it!”

“Slept through what?” said Land.

“We have traveled through time, Ned!”

Land grimaced. “Yes, from the moment before to this one. Stop talking nonsense.”

“How do you feel, Ned?” said Lucas, glancing at his cards.

“My stomach aches from that miserable food we’re served on board,” said Land. “No doubt I’ve been poisoned by squid preserves or seaweed spinach.”

Finn chuckled. “Go back to sleep, Ned.”

There was a knock at their door and Sasha entered. “The captain desires your presence in the control room,” he said. “There is something he wishes you to see.”

Chapter
7

Drakov stood at the periscope. He took his face away from it and looked at them as they came in.

There was a grim expression on his face.

“We have arrived in the year 1739,” he said, “in time to witness a sea battle.”

“We’re going to surface?” Land said.

“No, Mr. Land. However, you will be able to see through here.” Drakov indicated the periscope. “If you are familiar with your history, you will know that England is involved in a war with Spain. We are at present in the Caribbean and above us a Spanish ship is being attacked by an English privateer. Would you care to see this sterling example of humanity at its worst?” They took turns looking through the periscope. The two ships, oblivious of the submarine’s presence close beneath the surface, were drifting closer and closer, exchanging cannon fire. The smaller ship, the English privateer, was coming up on the Spaniard’s stern so as to prevent a broadside. The English captain was moving in at a slight angle from the rear, his cannoneers blazing away at the masts of the Spanish ship. As Verne looked through the periscope, he saw one of the masts shot away, the debris falling to the deck of the crippled Spanish ship. He called out to the others what was happening, then let Andre take a turn.”Has the Spaniard struck his colors?” Drakov asked.

“No,” said Andre.

“Then it will be bloody,” Drakov said. “They will continue to pound away at each other until they are close enough for the British seamen to swarm over the bulwarks of the Spaniard. They will do each other in with muskets, pistols, cutlasses and knives, the decks running red with blood until one or the other prevails. And for what? What will have been won? This war will spread through Europe and become the War of the Austrian Succession. Then, in a few short years, the Seven Years War, followed by the War of American Independence, then the French Revolution, then Napoleon. It never ends. It never ends.” Drakov picked up a phone.

“Tubes forward,” he said. “Prepare to fire two mark fifty torpedos. This is no drill. Repeat, this is no drill.”

“Drakov, don’t!” said Lucas, stepping forward, but instantly he was grabbed from behind by the burly von Kampf.

Verne stared at Drakov. “
Why?”
he said.

Drakov had a slightly glazed look in his eyes. “If they want war, then I shall give them war,” he said.

“Sound general quarters.”

The alarm for battle stations came on throughout the ship. “Tubes are flooded, Captain. The outer doors are open.”

“Feed your range and bearing to the torpedo room, Chief,” said Drakov.

“Drakov,” said Finn. “What’s the point?”

Drakov did not respond.

“Set!” said the chief.

“Fire one,” said Drakov.

The chief punched the firing button, keeping his gaze on the indicator lights. The torpedo left the flooded tube under its own power.

“First torpedo under way, Captain.”

“Fire two,” said Drakov. His gaze was unfocused. Verne stood at the periscope. They all waited tensely. “Directly on target, sir,” the chief said.

Verne gasped as both ships exploded in geysers of flame and debris.

“Direct hits!” the chief said.

Drakov walked out of the control room.

“Captain?” the chief said.

Drakov paused in the hatchway. “Oh,” he said, sounding faintly puzzled. “Secure from general quarters.”

They suited up in the wardroom. There was no need to use escape hatches to get out of the sub when they could simply clock down to the ocean floor directly below. On the floor of the wardroom, Benedetto had placed a programmed R-30 warp disc. It would generate a field large enough to enable anyone standing within a thirty-foot circumference of it to be teleported to the wreck of the
La
Floridana.
Everything had been cleared away and they stood ready in their bright orange diving suits and weighted boots. The packs containing the oxygen-manufacturing hemosponge apparatus were attached to their backs. Crewmen helped them on with their diving helmets. The helmets made them look as if they were spacemen. Wide faceplaces curved around the front and built-in lights were set into the helmet crowns. The party would consist of twenty divers. A number of the divers carried spearguns, several others carried various tools. All save Lucas, Finn, Andre, Land and Verne were equipped with underwater pistols which fired needle darts by compressed air.

Verne was nervous. “What will happen if I become ill again?” he said, sweat beading on his forehead. “If I should become ill inside my helmet . . .”

“Possible,” said Drakov, “but unlikely, Mr. Verne. The effects are nowhere near as strong with a short teleportation as with a temporal transition. However, in the event you do become ill, it will be necessary for you to return to the
Nautilus.
I think you will be quite safe. You haven’t eaten anything since transition, have you?”

Verne shook his head.

“Was that a yes or a no?” said Drakov, coming close to look inside Verne’s faceplate.

“No,” said Verne.

“Good. Then if you all are ready, we will proceed.”

Drakov crouched down and activated the warp disc. It began to glow faintly around its perimeter, then the glow brightened quickly and they were standing on the ocean floor.

Verne reached out and grabbed Drakov’s arm.

“Nothing to be frightened of,” said Drakov. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” said Verne, softly. He swallowed hard. “I—I am not certain I can move, Captain.” Drakov’s chuckle sounded in their helmets. “It’s simple, Mr. Verne. You put one foot in front of the other. Come.” “Mother of God,” whispered Land. He bent backward slightly, looking up at the
Nautilus,
which hovered above them like a giant whale.

“Beautiful, is it not?” said Drakov. “I never cease to marvel at it. A tranquil, deep-blue stillness. The water filters out the warm colors at this depth. Only the cool blue remains.” He swept his arm out, indicating submerged reefs. “Coral. The tiny architects of the sea. Slaving away for centuries, building their magnificent castles. Next to their graceful spires, even the grandeur of Mad Ludwig’s castle in Bavaria pales into insignificance.”

The other members of the party had moved on ahead, their lights beaming out before them. Schools of fish surrounded them, darting past like underwater fireflies. Vegetation undulated all around them, like a dancing forest.

“Keep together,” Drakov said. “This world is beautiful, but it is not without its hazards. Fortunately, we are well-protected from most of them. Coral is razor sharp and a certain type, called fire coral, can raise welts upon bare skin. Our suits will protect us from that, as they will from the spines of sea urchins and the stinging threads of the jellyfish known as the Portuguese man-of-war. However, we must be on the watch for sharks, which are ever unpredictable. They exist only to devour and their jaws are immensely powerful. Likewise the barracuda—a fish which is considerably smaller, but no less deadly.

Mr. Land, as a seaman, you are familiar with these creatures, I trust?”

“I am, Captain.”

“In that case, you will be responsible for pointing them out to your friends in the event we should encounter them. Sometimes they will only circle round, investigating. Other times, both shark and barracuda will attack with incredible ferocity. They are quite deserving of respect.”

“I, too, am familiar with the appearance of these creatures, Captain,” Verne said, “though I have never actually encountered them. I have heard one should make violent waving or splashing motions to frighten off a shark.”

“I, too, have read that, Mr. Verne. However, practical experience has taught me one is just as liable to attract a shark with such motions as to frighten it away. Very little is known about these creatures. The only advice I can give you is to try not to appear as if you might be food.”

“And how does one do that?” said Andre.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Drakov. “Another creature to be wary of is the moray eel. It is rare to encounter one swimming in the open. They prefer to hide in dark places, such as caves and nooks within the coral or in the wrecks of ships. They will dart very quickly out of such hiding places, usually keeping a portion of their snakelike bodies hidden and fastened onto the nearest handy appendage. So please, try to refrain from groping around in spots where they might lie in wait. Some of them grow to be quite large and the larger ones may be able to penetrate the suits. Regardless of their size, they are universally tenacious. Should one grab hold of you, try not to panic. Call out for aid at once and one of us will come. Above all, remember that sharks are attracted by blood. Should the integrity of your suits be broken and you begin to bleed, it is imperative you return to the
Nautilus
at once. Again, do not attempt returning on your own. Call one of us to aid you. Any questions?”

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