Leviathan

Heirthall came close to losing his battle with consciousness as Meriwether's voice came across the sound-powered speakers overhead. When the dizziness passed, he looked around his familiar surroundings. He gently touched the handholds on the wheel, caressing them as he once had his beautiful wife. Sweat and tears of loss poured into his eyes, and he wiped them away with a swipe of his arm. Then he looked up and straightened as best he could as Meriwether returned. He saw his first officer cringe as a solid iron shot bounced off the exposed tower of Leviathan.

"The crew has been informed, Captain. The Union ironclads are drawing near, and the fog, I'm afraid, is lifting with the dawn."

"Do we have enough men to send Leviathanon her last mission?" Heirthall asked as he held Meriwether's gaze.

"Yes, Captain, we have the entire complement--minus the seven you sent over the side."

Heirthall listened to the words, but they could not be right.

"They--"

"--are following your last orders, Captain. They are yourmen."

Heirthall stood straighter and gripped the ship's wheel.

"Order flank speed, Mr. Meriwether. By the time we are a hundred yards off Mary Lincoln, I want Leviathan's belly ... rubbing the riverbed." Heirthall lowered his head. "I never wanted this.... They have ... pushed me to it."

"The ironclads?"

"Target two of the new compressed air torpedoes on those fools," he said as a tear slowly rolled down his left cheek. "And Mr. Meriwether, will you thank the men for--"

"No sir, I will not. You do not thank those for doing their duty to a man who saved their lives repeatedly. One who gave those lives meaning."

Heirthall watched as Meriwether turned and shouted down the spiral staircase: "All ahead flank, stand by both forward-torpedo tubes, target the enemy ironclads with the new magnetic warheads!"

Belowdecks, men sprang into action just as the giant submarine lurched forward in the water. Her stern dug so low in the river that her main center propeller dug into the mud, sending a geyser of black muck a hundred feet into the air and announcing her intentions to all those on the river that fateful morning.

"My God, the madman is charging us!" the captain said from the bridge.

Stanton ran to the aft railing as the river erupted a thousand yards upstream. He held his hands to his ears as the two Union ironclads opened up a withering fire from their revolving turrets. They tried in vain to target the fast-moving submarine as it started its dive. The giant tower and triple rows of arched spikes were now the only visible sign above water that declared Leviathanwas on her way. As they approached at more than fifty knots, the large bubble windows on the side of the tower were glowing an angry bluish-green, just as if they were the eyes of Heirthall himself.

Stanton backed away as the marines on deck started firing on the onrushing target. Then two explosions shook the Mary Lincolnon her keel. Stanton turned toward the tumult, staring in horror just as the two great ironclads blew up.

"What evil is afoot here!" he screamed, and then turned in anger. "Lieutenant, bring them out on deck and line them up against the stern railing. Make sure they are visible to this crazy fool!" he ordered.

The young marine ran below and disappeared. He soon returned with the four children and the wife of Captain Octavian Heirthall. The woman was calm, but Stanton could see the girls were frightened.

The small Frenchman was at Stanton's side. He pulled on the man's coat sleeve, ripping it.

"This is barbaric. You cannot do this--send the children over the side!"

Stanton pushed the Frenchman away.

"Quickly, allow the captain to see what he is to lose in this foolishness. Mr. Verne, you may run if you wish, but the Mary Lincolnwill stand her ground!"

The marine reluctantly used his rifle to push the screaming girls and the silent woman to the rail. Then Elizabeth Heirthall slapped away the bayoneted rifle and gathered her children to her as they saw the great Leviathanrun true to her course. The woman turned to look at Stanton, a knowing smile slowly spreading across her face. She shook her head as she hugged her daughters close to her.

"The ironclads are no longer a concern, Captain," Meriwether said as he used his binoculars, examining the spots where the two warships were sinking into the Penobscot mud. "The Mary Lincolnis getting her boilers going, but she cannot escape. She is at about two knots and--"

Meriwether's words cut off as he adjusted his glasses on the scene before him.

"No, no, no!" The words came out in more of a moan than a cry.

Heirthall, though barely conscious, heard the fear in his first officer's voice. His face was now ashen gray, the blood long since absent from skin and veins. He managed to raise his head but his vision was cloudy at best.

"The children--Captain, the barbarian has your wife and children on deck!"