Under the Ice

This brought them directly into the engine room. The cavernous compartment was brightly lit, and Laurie could clearly view the massive gray turbines and the vessel’s single propeller shaft. Though the size of the equipment was impressive, its quietness was even more so.

“I thought it would be a lot noisier in here. Captain.

And with all this heavy machinery crowded together like it is, what would happen if something went wrong with one of the machines buried on the bottom of all that gear?”

Matt Colter was quick with an answer.

“Practically every piece of heavy machinery you see before you can be hoisted out with a block and tackle and subsequently repaired. From the Nautilus onward, this was a feature each one of our nuclear subs was designed around. I’ve seen the wooden scale models myself, that were built showing each piece of equipment and every square inch of piping in this compartment. Such mock-ups were constructed to make certain that no piece of equipment was inaccessible.”

By this time, a small group of grease-stained sailors had realized they had company. As they did their best to tidy themselves up, they hesitantly approached the newcomers. Leading this group forward was a potbellied, crewcut sailor wearing a filthy white T-shirt.

“Good morning to ya’, Captain,” the first man said as he hitched up his trousers and tucked in the tail of his T-shirt.

Noting that the chief and his crew were unusually quiet and reserved. Matt Colter proceeded with the introductions.

“Dr. Lansing, I’d like you to meet Chief Engineer Joe Cunnetto and the best bunch of grease monkeys in the entire US Navy.”

Only after he was certain his palms were clean did the chief shyly step forward and offer his hand.

“Me and the boys would like to welcome you aboard the Defiance, Doc Lansing. Please feel free to visit anytime, day or night, that you get the hankering.”

“Why thank you. Chief,” Laurie responded. Then she pointed toward the compartment’s aft bulkhead.

“Do you mind if I take a look at the way the shaft penetrates the hull? I’ve always wondered what type of seals you utilized to keep the sea out.”

Genuinely surprised by this request, Chief Cunnetto beamed proudly.

“Why of course. Doc. I’d love to show you.”

His men were gathered in a tight group close behind the chief, and when Cunnetto pivoted he practically tripped right over them.

“Don’t you good-for-nothings have some work to do? At the very least you could give a guy a little breathing room,” the chief complained.

Matt Colter fought to hold back his laughter as the sailors proceeded to trip over each other while they attempted to disperse. Yet the captain’s moment of levity was abruptly cut short by a piercing, high-pitched warbling tone, whose distinctive sound filled Colter with instant dread.

“It’s the collision alarm!” cried the chief at the top of his lungs.

“To your stations, men!”

Madly grabbing out for the nearest intercom handset, the captain took in the frantic words of the Defiance’s current OOD, Lieutenant David Sanger.

“It’s another submarine. Captain! It came up on us from out of nowhere and—” The OOD’s report was cut short by a bone-jarring collision that sent Matt Colter crashing hard to the deck. A deafening, screeching noise filled the engine room as the lights blinked off and the Defiance canted hard on to its left side. Blindly groping out in the darkness for something solid to hold on to. Colter slid hard into a prone figure pinned up against the iron railing that lined that portion of the elevated catwalk. As he tightly gripped this figure’s lean torso in an effort to keep from sliding off the passageway altogether and go slamming into the machinery stored below, an unfamiliar perfumed scent met his nostrils.

And in that instant he realized that his savior was none other than Dr. Laurie Lansing.

Loosening his grip a bit. Colter knew he could do absolutely nothing until the hull stabilized and he could safely stand. Yet he did manage to whisper some words of encouragement to the woman he found himself so desperately clinging to.

“Hang in there. Doctor. This ship’s built tough and we’re not licked just yet.”

As if to emphasize these words, the emergency lights popped on, and the first thing Matt Colter’s eyes were able to focus on was the pale, terror-filled face of his civilian passenger. Doing his best to control his own panic, the captain managed a brave smile.

“At least we’ve still got lights,” he said.

“That means that our power system is still on line. Now if only our hull stayed in one piece.”

The sickening sound of rushing water met his practiced ears, and Colter’s gut tightened. The deck having finally stabilized beneath them, the captain painfully got to his knees and struggled to stand erect.

Bruised but still in one piece, he helped the civilian to stand.

Behind them, the deep voice of Chief Cunnetto rose strong and firm.