Under the Ice

“Either that or they’ve scrammed their reactor on us and are playing possum,” offered the captain, who turned around when a woman’s voice excitedly called out behind him.

“The lasers show thin ice above us. Thin ice!”

Scrambling over to the scientist’s side. Colter studied the green-tinted monitor screen. Unlike their old ice machine that printed out its information on a crude piece of graph paper, the new Fathometer provided a three-dimensional sketch of the exact conditions existing on the surface. It proved to be the alert civilian technician who explained just what he was looking at.

“The lasers indicate a polynya precisely five hundred and ninety feet long and two hundred and thirty-one feet wide. An inverted ridge extending some twenty feet deep surrounds the north face of the lead, while the southern edge is composed of relatively young ice, barely three feet deep.”

“That should be more than sufficient,” replied the captain.

“Did the Defiance’s nav computer accept your interface?”

Laurie Lansing pointed to the green light located to the right side of the monitor screen’s lower edge.

“I show a definite lock, Captain.”

“Well, from here on in I guess the rest is up to you. Doctor. You may proceed with an automated ascent. And please, don’t hesitate to call out the second something doesn’t look right. I’ll be standing close by to go manual if needed.”

“Let’s hope that won’t be necessary. Captain,” returned the civilian. She then took a deep breath and began addressing her keyboard.

Matt Colter wasted no time informing the diving officer that the Defiance was now being driven by the computer. It looked strange to see the two seated helmsmen release their steering columns, and watch as the wheels began turning on their own.

As the vessel began a wide banking turn, the ballast pumps automatically activated. To a soft, muted whine the ship was lightened, and ever so gradually, they began ascending.

At a depth of one hundred and ten feet, the Defiance hit an unexpected pocket of colder water and began rising more quickly than anticipated.

Matt Colter watched as the depth gauge lost over thirty feet in a matter of seconds. He was just about to order a manual override when Laurie Lansing intervened in his place.

“Sensors show a temperature inversion. Computer is compensating by taking on additional ballast.”

Before these words were out of her mouth, the pumps once again activated, this time drawing water into the ship’s tanks. The Defiance’s rate of ascent immediately stabilized. And a minute and a half later, the Sturgeon class vessel was safely floating on the surface of Lancaster Sound.

A relieved chorus of shouts and applause briefly filled the normally hushed command compartment.

Speaking for the crew was its captain.

“Dr. Lansing, we’d all like to congratulate you on completing the US Navy’s first automated ascent in ice conditions. If this device continues showing such excellent results, it will revolutionize Arctic operations and make our difficult profession not only a bit easier, but a lot safer as well.”

Laurie Lansing blushed and humbly replied.

“Thank you. Captain Colter. But your kind words are really addressed to the wrong person. This was my father’s dream, and he spent almost three decades of his life making it come true. I only wish he could be here to see the results.”

The civilian’s response was followed by the deep voice of the quartermaster.

“Captain, the radio room reports a strong, pulsating high-frequency signal coming in on bearing two-two-zero.”

As he absorbed this information. Matt Colter firmly addressed his XO.

“You may take the Conn, Mr. Layman. I’d better get below and throw on some long Johns. I’m afraid it’s going to be a little nippy where I’m off to next.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” snapped the XO, who facetiously added, “And don’t forget to keep an eye out for polar bears. Skipper.”

Colter grinned.

“Thanks for the warning, Lieutenant Commander. I’ll keep it in mind.”

With his lips still turned in a smile, the Defiance’s captain smartly pivoted and disappeared through the aft hatchway, his thoughts already refocusing on the unusual job that now faced him.

Chapter Fifteen

Behind an ice-encrusted ridge. Lieutenant Jack Redmond lay on his stomach, his binoculars focused on the snow-covered plateau that stretched out before him. At his side, Sergeant-Major Cliff Ano did likewise. Both of the Arctic Rangers took in a domed snow house A single, fur-clad individual with a rifle slung over his shoulder stood beside this structure’s entryway.

“I don’t like this situation one bit,” offered the concerned Inuit.

“I’m almost certain the rifle he’s carrying is a Soviet-made Kalaishnikov.”

Jack Redmond grunted.

“You could be right, Sergeant-Major.

But what in the hell is a Russian doing out here? And where did he come from?”

“It’s obvious they’ve come for the same thing we have,” returned Ano.

“As to how they got here, who knows, perhaps they were dropped by parachute.”

Redmond shook his head.