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He climbed the rest of the way to the bridge. Getting up first was always a moment he savored. Jabo had no problem working in close quarters with minimal privacy for months at a time, it was one of the reasons he was a good submariner. But he always did treasure those first seconds on the bridge, when the OOD and all his responsibility still resided in control while he enjoyed the best view of any man on the submarine, surrounded by fresh air, water, and daylight. He was alone except for the octopus.

“Hello!” said Jabo, looking it over. It was fascinating, he could have stared at it for hours. Another time, he might have sent it below in a bucket, let the crew take a look at it, everybody would find it interesting. On some patrols, it might rank as one of the most interesting things to happen, a legendary episode, the time they caught an octopus and made it their mascot for a few weeks.

Jabo hefted it with his good hand, holding it in front of his face like Yorick’s skull. Its eight legs groped around his wrist and arm. Jabo leaned over as far as he could, and then he heaved the animal, shot put style. It landed in the water with a splash. Its legs spread outward like the petals of a flower, perfectly symmetrical, then closed powerfully. It shot forward and down, disappearing into the safety of deep water.

• • •

Within thirty minutes, they shifted the watch topside, and Jabo was the officer of the deck. He had company, Seaman Connelly as lookout. Connelly had a large bloody bandage on the side of his head, and a swatch of his hair had been ripped off.

“How’d you do that?” said Jabo.

“Not real sure, sir,” he said. “After the collision, I guess. The doc saw me after we removed EABs and slapped this bandage on my head.” He reached up and brushed it with the tips of his fingers. “How about you?” he pointed at Jabo’s hand.

“Hatch slammed on it.” He held his hand up.

“Fuck, sir, are those fingers gone?”

“Yep. Two of them.”

“Holy shit,” said Connelly. He stared at it a moment before putting his binoculars back to his face.

“XO to the bridge,” came an amplified announcement from the bridge box at their knees, and moments later they heard quick footsteps on the ladder.

The XO scaled the ladder and was soon standing beside them. He took a look around, especially at the bow. “Can’t really see any damage from up here,” he said.

“Look at the port bow wave,” said Jabo. “You can see it’s a little asymmetrical.”

The XO peered at the water for a few minutes. “You’re right. I can see that.” The bow wave on that side of the ship was frothier, compared to the smooth green swell on the starboard side. But other than that, all the ship’s damage was invisible, below the surface. “I can’t fucking wait to see it in drydock.”

“Is that where we are heading?” said Jabo.

“Still sorting everything out. But I’m pretty sure we’re not delivering anything to Taiwan.” He shot a look back at Connelly to make sure he wasn’t paying attention, or at least pretending not to pay attention. “Wouldn’t make good TV to make a delivery like that from a broken ship. Know what I mean?”

Jabo felt a pang as the XO said the words: broken ship. But that’s what they were. “So where are we going?”

“For now, where going to stay up here, within our assigned operating area. I expect a revision soon. Probably to the nearest submarine drydock, which, by my estimate, is Pearl.”

Jabo nodded. They were travelling less than eight knots. It would take them two weeks on the surface to get to Pearl.

“But listen,” said the XO. “Let’s get some immediate priorities set, officer of the deck. We need to feed this crew, and we need to rest this crew.”

“Can we feed them now?”

“The chop is working on it. The doc says there are just nine men bad enough he wants to keep them in bed. So we’ve cleared out bunkroom eight, that’s where we’re going to put them all. After that, he’s going to clear out of Crew’s Mess, and the chop says he can have sandwiches and soup ready in an hour. After that, hopefully, we can start getting some guys some sleep. We’ve already shifted back to a normal watch section, with a few modifications. We’ll change the watch in four hours, start cycling guys through.”

Jabo nodded. It felt good to be thinking about normal shit: food, sleep, watchbills. He contemplated for a moment which he wanted to do more: eat or sleep. He decided overwhelmingly he’d rather sleep.

“How ‘bout you?” said the XO. “How are you, Jabo?”

“I’m good.”

The XO reached for his bandaged hand and held it up. “Look at that. What are you missing, two of them? Can’t the doc super glue them back on or something?”

Connelly laughed at that and so did Jabo. “I don’t know,” said Jabo. “The doc’s got them somewhere in a bag of ice, says we might be able to re-attach them.”

“Make sure he gets you the right ones. I wouldn’t want you touching Angi with someone else’s fingers.”