On The Beach

The yeoman left the control room and went forward. Dwight Towers came to the periscope, detached another sailor from it, and stood looking at the shore. The town sloped upwards from the waterfront giving a good view of the street and the houses. He stood back after a while. "There doesn't seem to be much wrong on shore," he said. "You'd think with Boeing as the target all this area would have been well plastered."

Farrell said, "The defences here were mighty strong. All the guided missiles in the book."

"That's so. But they got through to San Francisco."

"It doesn't look as though they ever got through here." He paused. "There was that air burst, way back in the strait."

Dwight nodded. "See that neon sign that's still alight, over the drugstore?" He paused. "We'll go on calling here for quite a while-say, half an hour."

"Okay, sir."

The captain stood back from the periscope and the executive officer took it, and issued a couple of orders to keep the ship in position. At the microphone the lieutenant went on calling; Dwight lit a cigarette and leaned back on the chart table. Presently he stubbed out the cigarette and glanced at the clock.

From forward there was the clang of a steel hatch; he started and looked round. It was followed a moment later by another, and then footsteps on the deck above them. There were steps running down the alley, and Lieutenant Hirsch appeared in the control room. "Swain got out through the escape hatch, sir," he said. "He's out on deck now!"

Dwight bit his lip. "Escape hatch closed?"

"Yes, sir. I checked that."

The captain turned to the chief of the boat. "Station a guard on the escape hatches forward and aft."

There was a splash in the water beside the hull as Mortimer ran off. Dwight said to Farrell, "See if you can see what he's doing."

The executive dropped the periscope down and put it to maximum depression, sweeping around. The captain said to Hirsch, "Why didn't somebody stop him?"

"I guess he did it too quick. He came from aft and sat down, kind of biting his nails. Nobody paid him much attention. I was in the forward torpedo flat, so I didn't see. First they knew, he was in the escape trunk with the door shut, and the outer hatch open to the air. Nobody cared to chase out there after him."

Dwight nodded. "Sure. Get the trunk blown through and then go in and see the outer hatch is properly secure."

From the periscope Farrell said, "I can see him now. He's swimming for the jetty."

Dwight stooped almost to the deck and saw the swimmer. He stood up and spoke to Lieutenant Ben-son at the microphone. The lieutenant touched the volume control and said, "Yeoman Swain, hear this." The swimmer paused and trod water. "The captain's orders are that you return immediately to the ship. If you come back at once he will take you on board again and take a chance on the contamination. You are to come back on board right now."

From the speaker above the navigation table they all heard the reply, "You go and get stuffed!"

A faint smile flickered on the captain's face. He bent again to the periscope and watched the man swim to the shore, watched him clamber up the ladder at the jetty. Presently he stood erect. "Well, that's it," he remarked. He turned to John Osborne by his side. "How long would you say he'll last?"

"He'll feel nothing for a time," said the scientist. "He'll probably be vomiting tomorrow night. After that-well, it's just anybody's guess, sir. It depends upon the constitution of the individual."

"Three days? A week?"

"I should think so. I shouldn't think it could be longer, at this radiation level."

"And we'd be safe to take him back-till when?"

"I've got no experience. But after a few hours everything that he evacuates would be contaminated. We couldn't guarantee the safety of the ship's company if he should be seriously ill on board."

Dwight raised the periscope and put his eyes to it. The man was still visible walking up the street in his wet clothes. They saw him pause at the door of the drugstore and look in; then he turned a corner and was lost to sight. The captain said, "Well, he doesn't seem to have any intention of coming back." He turned over the periscope to his executive. "Secure that loud hailer. The course is for Santa Maria, in the middle of the channel. Ten knots."

There was dead silence in the submarine, broken only by the helm orders, the low murmur of the turbines, and the intermittent whizzing of the steering engine. Dwight Towers went heavily to his cabin, and Peter Holmes followed bun. He said, "You're not going to try to get him back, sir? I could go on shore in a radiation suit."