propeller so none of the White Tigers could accidentally cut themselves on it. Hydroplanes would guide the vehicle.
Ru kicked his fins, moving away from the submarine so the yawning darkness of the deep spread out below him. The SDV floated in the murk at neutral buoyancy, with an emitter guiding Ru to it. Soon, he was straddling the T-9. What looked like a small motorcycle-screen protected the controls and compass. Through his thighs, he felt the other White Tiger securing himself to the saddle-seat behind him. Ru switched on the power, and green lights blinked into life. He checked the panel. A red light appeared—the other T-9 was ready.
Ru fed power to the propeller and adjusted the T-9’s hydroplanes. He moved away from the submarine and toward the Californian coast almost sixty kilometers away. The vehicle’s vibration was slight and water rushed against him, as he was only partially protected by the forward screen.
Ru twisted back. The Commando seated behind him leaned out of the way. Farther behind followed Kwan and his partner on their T-9. Nodding, Ru faced forward as he felt the rush of water against his chest. He peered about the dark world, with millions of tons of water surrounding him. It was nearly silent with his rebreather and full-face mask. Even with a man right behind him, he felt terribly alone in the vast Pacific Ocean.
This was possibly the longest distance combat swim in Chinese history. It would have been impossible without rebreathers. They were a marvel of marine technology and were a closed-circuit scuba, almost akin to a space suit’s tanks. As a person breathed, his lungs used-up oxygen and created carbon dioxide as waste gas. With open-circuit scuba or the familiar aqua-lung, a diver only used some of the oxygen in each of his breaths. He breathed out unused oxygen together with nitrogen and carbon dioxide waste, blowing the bubbles of gas into the surrounding water. That meant oxygen escaped that he could have used, and it meant he needed to carry extra diving cylinders.
The rebreather, on the other hand, re-circulated the exhaled gas for re-use. It did not discharge the unused oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide waste into the water as bubbles. Instead, the rebreather absorbed the carbon dioxide by
The rewards of using a rebreather were many. Because a diver needed less gas, he could swim longer at one time and go deeper. And, during an ascent, rebreathers produced no bubbles, which could give away a diver’s position while swimming in enemy territory. Bubbles also created noise, making it harder to listen as closely. Further, the rebreather minimized the amount of inert gases in the mix and therefore minimized the decompression needed later, reducing the likelihood of getting the bends.
There were other rewards, too. In an open-circuit cylinder, the cold breathable gas became uncomfortable over time and caused dehydration. The rebreather air was warmer and moister. Lastly, as a regular scuba diver inhaled, the expanding gas entering his lungs caused him to rise slightly and then lower as he breathed out. He lost his neutral buoyancy. In a rebreather, this occurred less.
Keeping a constant speed on the T-9 and straining to see in the darkness, Ru endured the lonely voyage. He understood the mission’s parameters. The Siberian oilfields under China’s control, combined with offshore drilling and domestic production, had turned her into the largest oil-producing nation in the world. China had more than enough energy, but with her teeming population, she lacked enough food. Despite her superpower status, stiff rationing was practiced throughout the country. Ru had listened to lectures concerning the return of a small ice age and harsher weather patterns, but he’d usually fallen into a daze during them. Crop yields were down all over the world, although a few southern countries had increased food exports. America was the leader of the new Grain Union of Canada, Argentina, Australia and others, and China demanded preferred status. Her chief bargaining chip was oil, the limited resource that still ran much of the world’s industries and the majority of the transportation systems.
America had grain and China needed more. The Party leaders would do whatever they had to in order to feed China’s hordes. Ru shook his head in disgust. Grain. Oil. What else did he need to know other than the government had lied to him? Men with marriage permits were supposed to be exempt from frontline service. They had told him he was the best frogman and China now desperately needed her favored son to save the nation in this bleak hour.
Ru wanted to curse. Instead, he checked the instruments. Then he brought the T-9 toward the surface. He had been doing so slowly throughout the voyage. Even with rebreathers, their bodies needed time to adjust to the nitrogen levels in their bloodstreams.
Finally, Ru’s masked head broke the surface—and then his body—as the T-9 moved through the ocean like a fast-floating log. He switched the set/air valve and breathed the cold atmosphere around him. With a flick of his fingers, he shut down the caged propeller so they glided to a halt.
The torpedo-shaped vehicle soon rode a mighty swell. The mass of water hissed around him, while the stars glittered above in amazing profusion. After a week underwater in the submarine, the stars were a glorious sight. In Shanghai, Lu May and he liked to walk in the park at night gazing at the constellations.
A pang squeezed Ru’s chest. He had the terrible feeling that he would never see his wife again. His wife would remarry. A Chinese woman had no choice about that. If his unborn daughter wasn’t aborted first, she would gain a stepfather and she would never know he’d existed.
Ru tried to control his anguish. He was the best frogman in China. He would survive and he would return to Shanghai. In several weeks, he would hold Lu May and shower her face with kisses.
Ru shifted in his saddle-seat as Soldier Rank Kwan slowly drove his T-9 near.
A big ocean swell passed underneath him and Ru’s T-9 sank into a watery trough. Another swell barreled toward him, with tiny phosphorescent plankton glowing like ghosts in the water. It was so peaceful here, almost surreal. Yet he had come to attach explosives to an oil platform.
The Americans had sonar and radar on their oil platforms. Secessionist terrorists had attempted sabotage on various oil rigs in the past. Security details now accompanied the deep-sea workmen. It was the reason the attack submarine had released the White Tigers so far from target. It was why they used ceramic-plate T-9s, and it was the reason they would swim the rest of the way. No one must ever realize that Chinese soldiers had attacked Americans.
By hand, Ru signaled Kwan. They hadn’t attached any communication wires to each other yet, nor did Ru use his mask’s speaker. He liked the silence and the four of them knew what to do.
Shutting down his T-9, Ru set the timer to the directional emitter. If they were to survive the combat swim, they would have to return and find the T-9s. He switched the set/air valve back, tasting the rebreather’s warm mixture again, and slid into the water.
The four of them shoved and dragged the vehicles beside each other, using clamps and lines to attach them. When they were finished, the others gathered around Ru.
Kwan held up his hand. Ru frowned. Kwan pointed north. Ru heard a motorboat then. At this distance, he didn’t know how big the boat was or who it belonged to. They watched, seeing lights. The motorboat headed west. Had someone spotted the submarine? That was bad, but there was nothing they could do about it now.
Ru pulled out his compass. The others knew what it meant. They must continue with the operation. Ru submerged and reentered the dark waters, a human seal in the womb of the endless sea. After riding for so long, it felt good to use his thighs. Ru kicked in a steady rhythm, propelling himself to the target. Every time he glanced back, he saw the other White Tigers following, their faceplates aimed at him. He glanced several times into Kwan’s hard eyes. That tightened the muscles in Kwan’s face.
The White Tiger Commandos were unique to the Socialist-Nationalist government ruling China. That government had risen to power in 2021 under the present Chairman. The White Tigers had been the first to implement the new enlisted rankings. They had dispensed with the old order of private, corporal and sergeant. Instead, it went Fighter Rank, Soldier Rank and First Rank. After several years, the Chinese Army, Navy and National Militia had incorporated the new enlisted rankings. In everything military, the
Many kilometers later, Ru’s head and shoulders broke out of the water. Like sea otters, the others soon surfaced around him. Ru pointed. There in the distance was the giant oil platform, with its bright lights shining in the night. The Americans had built it several years ago. According to the briefing, it had taken a special act of Congress and fierce debates among the environmentalists of the country. The Americans needed oil, and they were breaking long-held taboos to acquire it wherever they could. The new platform was supposed to be the first of many
