Voyage of the Devilfish

“Captain Vlasenko, we can’t very well receive radio signals under ice. We can only get an extremely low frequency signal, transmitting at a snail’s pace.”

“Snails?” Pacino shook his head. “Point is, there was no word from our headquarters. But then,” Pacino added, not even wanting to consider the horror, “they might have been taken out by a cruise missile, maybe that’s why so far there’s been no rescue attempt.”

“Perhaps you collided with us in time to stop the transmission…”

“Maybe, maybe not…” On the other wall of the shelter Lieutenant Commander Matt Delaney started coughing. Rapier, Pacino and Vlasenko rushed to Delaney’s side of the shelter. Delaney lay in his own blood which he had just retched to the plastic floor. The chief corpsman tried to clear his throat, and after a few minutes struggling, Delaney was quiet and able to lean back against the wall.

“He’s lost consciousness,” Chief Ingle said, wrapping Delaney in a blanket. Delaney’s forehead was starting to break out in sweat. “He got quite a radiation dose, didn’t he. Captain?”

“Afraid so.”

“Well, these may be the first symptoms,” Ingle said quietly.

“I’d imagine Manderson and the other watchstanders aft will be showing them soon.” Behind Pacino the diesel engine coughed and missed, finally stopping. The shelter seemed to crash into silence. Pacino’s ears rang from the engine’s previous noise. The engine was surrounded by the men in the shelter. Pacino pushed through to get to the diesel and found Rapier with the cap to the fuel tank in his hand.

“It’s out of fuel,” Rapier said. “The resupply cans are empty.” Now that the diesel was quiet, and the ringing in Pacino’s ears was fading, he could hear the howling of the wind outside the shelter, blowing the snow up against the shelter with the force of a sandblaster.

“Skipper,” Rapier said, “without the diesel there’s no heat, no light. This place will be the same temperature as the outside in an hour.” Pacino looked at Vlasenko.

“Captain, you got anything in that pod that could help? A heater? Transmitter? Satellite locator? Flares?” Vlasenko shook his head. “All that equipment was in the main escape pod. This one was just an auxiliary.”

“All right, everyone, listen up,” Pacino said. “Gather all the blankets and sleeping bags and clothing around the diesel in the center of the shelter. Get your parkas on. Drink some water before it freezes. Come here by the engine. Its residual heat will keep us warm for a while. After that, only crowding together will save body heat. We’ll just have to wait out this storm.” By the time Pacino’s orders were carried out. Matt Delaney and four of his engineroom watchstanders were dead. Their bodies were left by the wall of the shelter away from the group. Pacino sat down next to Rapier, thinking he should have stayed in the Devilfish. At least the end would have been fast.

CHAPTER 26

TUESDAY, 21 DECEMBER

POLAR ICECAP SURFACE