navigational and mechanical functions.
None of the petroleum tanks had lost any crude oil and in all of them
the nature of the inert gas was constant, there had been no ingress of
air to them; they were all still intact then, One of the reasons that
Nicholas had taken the tanker in tow stern first was so that the
navigation tower might break the worst of wind and sea, and the fragile
bloated tanks would receive some protection from Yet desperately he
wished for a momentary sight of the tank deck, merely to reassure
himself. There could be malfunction in the pump control instruments,
the storm could have clawed one of the pod tanks open, and even now
Golden Dawncould be bleeding her Poison into the sea. But there was no
view of the tank decks through the storm, and Nick stooped to the
radarscope. The screen glowed and danced and flickered with ghost
images and trash - he wasn't too certain if even Warlock's image was
constant, the range seemed to be opening, as though the tow-line had
parted. He straighten up and stood balanced on the balls of his feet,
reassuring himself by the feel of the deck that Golden Dawnwas still
under tow- He could feel by the way she resisted the wind and the sea
that the tow was still good.
Yet there was no means of telling their Position. The satellite
navigational system was completely blanketed the radio waves were
distorted and diverted by tens of thousands of feet of electrical storm,
and the same forces were blanketing the marine radio beacons on the
American mainland.
The only indication was the ship's electronic log which gave Nicholas
the speed of the ship's hull through the water and the speed across the
sea bottom, and the depth finder which recorded the water under her
keel.
For the first two hours of the tow, Warlock had been able to pull the
ship back towards the main channel at three and a half knots, and slowly
the water had become deeper until they had i 5o fathoms under them.
Then as the wind velocity increased, the windage of GoldenDawnls
Superstructure had acted as a vast mainsail and the storm had taken
control. Now, despite all the power in Warlock's big twin propellers,
both tug and tanker were being pushed once more back towards the
100-fathom line and the American mainland.
Where is Sea Witch? I Nicholas wondered, as he stared helplessly at the
gauges. They were going towards the shore at a little over two knots,
and the bottom was shelving steeply. Sea Witch might be the ace that
took the trick, if she could reach them through these murderous seas and
savage winds, and if she could find them in this wilderness of mad air
and water.
Again, Nicholas groped his way to the communications room, and still
clinging to the bulkhead with one hand he thumbed the microphone.
Sea Witch. Sea Witch. This is Warlock. Calling Sea Witch. He
listened then, trying to tune out the snarl and crackle of static,
crouching over the set. Faintly he thought he heard a human voice, a
scratchy whisper through the interference and he called again and
listened, and called again.
There was the voice again, but so indistinct he could not make out a
