Voyage of the Devilfish

“Weapon ready,” from Bahnhoff. Pacino paused. This was unprecedented, firing on a target without having sonar contact on it. Yes, this was a recipe for a miss, particularly under ice. But better to try and miss than sink with a full load of torpedoes. Pacino made up an order.

“Shoot on last sonar bearing.”

“Set!” from Brayton on Pos Two.

“Stand by!” from Bahnhoff on the firing panel, taking the trigger to STANDBY.

“Shoot.” Pacino felt a shot of adrenaline.

“Fire.” Bahnhoff pulled the trigger to FIRE position. Without the usual underway noises of ventilation and SINS navigation system, the torpedolaunch sounded more violent than usual. The pressure-pulse hurt twice as much. Pacino forced a yawn to clear his abused eardrums from the pressure. Something about a warshot that made the launch sound different — this time the noise meant business.

“Tube one fired electrically. Captain,” Rapier reported.

“Conn, Sonar,” the sonar chief reported on the headphone circuit, “ownship unit, normal launch.” * On the Hullcrusher’s port flank a relay opened as tube external power turned off. The torpedo was now on internal power, no longer dependent on the tube or the mother ship.

As the connector separated, the prongs of the “in-water” sensor shorted out, and the sensor completed the first of several arming safety interlocks. The torpedo “heard” the sound of water flowing, just for a moment… it was the pressurized water from the torpedo-tube tank pouring into vents at the aft end of the tube to push it out of the ship. The torpedo underwent a powerful acceleration, like falling through a dark tunnel at supersonic velocity. The noise of the sudden flow was deafening.

Would the torpedo “hear” its target? Behind the torpedo the guidance wire streamed out of one of the fixed vanes of its propulsor, and also out of the ship’s torpedo tube. The wire would remain stationary… the ship had a length of wire that allowed it to maneuver… and the torpedo let out its own wire to allow it to move. The wire allowed the weapon to be steered if the mother ship had a better firecontrol solution. It also carried transmissions from the weapon to the firing ship when the torpedo had a valid detect on the target. The firing ship could tell when the wire became disconnected from the torpedo — which was usually an indication that the weapon had hit the target and exploded. As the torpedo tube and the Devilfish faded away astern of the weapon, a second safety-interlock contact shut the three-g accelerometer, confirming the launch. The three-g contacts completed a circuit to a grain-fuel canister next to the combustion chamber. The grain fuel then ignited, pressurized the chamber and brought it up to the fuel’s ignition temperature. As the temperature rose, the self-oxidizing fuel was injected and ignited, the turbine of the engine began to spin, already windmilling at 20 RPM — and the engine-rotor accelerated to transit velocity… USS devilfish “Firing-point procedures,” Pacino said, “tube two. Target One. Set for passive circler, range 15,000 yards. ASH disabled.”

“Ship ready,” from Stokes.

“Solution ready,” from Brayton.

“Weapon ready,” from Bahnhoff.

“Shoot on last sonar bearing!” Pacino ordered.

“Set!” Stokes said.

“Stand by”—Bahnhoff “Shoot”—Pacino.

“Shit”—Bahnhoff. The Weapons Officer looked up from the firecontrol console. “Loss of firecontrol, sir.” Bahnhoff’s voice sounded dead. The three video screens of the Mark I firecontrol system had winked out, their blind eyes staring back at Pacino. Suddenly the crowded room and the residual heat from back aft seemed to overcome the arctic cold on the outside of the hull. The room seemed to be baking at 200 degrees.

Pacino wiped sweat off his forehead. Rapier pulled off his headset. No sense worrying about the plots and sonar now. “Well, that’s it. Captain. Unless you want to restart the reactor.”

“Check the battery,” Pacino told him. Rapier picked up a phone. “Eng, how long on the battery?” Rapier listened, hung up, face grim. “Ten minutes, Captain. Not enough if we started her up right now.” Pacino stared into the distance.

“Well?” Rapier asked.

“Well what?” Pacino said quietly.