'To the contrary,' Becker said. 'She's beautiful'
The captain shook his head in wonderment. 'How on earth did you get this equipment here so quickly? You were twelve hundred miles away when the rescue call went out.'
'We remembered that the Russians like to do things in a big way,' Austin said. 'They jumped at the chance to show the world they're still a first-rate nation.'
'But that helicopter couldn't have carried it all that way in such a short time. You gentlemen must be magicians.'
'It took a lot of work to pull this rabbit out of a hat,' Austin said, as he watched the helicopter maneuver. 'The Mi-26 picked up the submersible at sea and transferred it to a land base, where two Antonov N-124 heavy-duty transport planes were waiting. The Sea Lamprey went on one plane. The big chopper and the NUMA heli- copter were loaded on the other. It was a two-hour flight to the NATO base in the Faroes. While they unloaded the submersible and got it ready to fly, we came out here to prepare the way.'
The powerful turboshaft engines drowned out the captain's reply as the aircraft moved closer and hovered. The eight rotor blades and five-bladed tail rotor threshed the air, and the downdraft they cre- ated scooped a vast watery crater out of the sea. The submersible was released a few feet above the roiling water, and the helicopter moved off. The Sea Lamprey had been fitted out with large air-filled pontoons. It sank beneath the waves, but quickly bobbed back to the surface.
Austin suggested that the captain ready the sick bay to treat ex- treme hypothermia. Then the boat crew ferried them out to the sub- mersible. The launch crew detached the pontoons. The submersible blew air from its ballast tanks and sank below the blue-black surface.
The Sea Lamprey hovered, kept at an even keel by its thrusters. Austin and Zavala sat in the snug cockpit, their faces washed by the blue light from the instrument panel, and ran down the dive check- list. Then Zavala pushed the control stick forward, angled the blunt prow down and blew ballast. He steered the submersible in a de- scending spiral as casually as if he were taking the family out on a Sunday drive.
Austin peered into the gauzy bluish blackness beyond the range of the lights. 'I didn't have time to ask you before we came aboard,' he said, almost in afterthought. 'Is this thing safe?'
'As a former president once said, 'Depends on your definition ofis/'
Austin groaned. 'Let me rephrase my question. Are the leaks and the pump fixed?'
'I think I stopped up the leaks, and the ballast pump works well under ideal conditions.'
'What about actual conditions?' 'Kurt, my father used to quote an old Spanish proverb. 'The closed mouth swallows no flies.' '
'What the hell do flies have to do with our situation?'
'Nothing,' Zavala said. 'I just thought we should change the sub- ject. Maybe the problem with the ballast control will go away.'
The vehicle had been built as a rescue system of last resort. Once its lasers punched a hole in a sunken vessel, water would rush in after the sub disengaged. There was no way to plug the opening. All trapped crewmen had to be evacuated in one trip. This was a proto- type, built to carry only eight people plus a pilot and co-pilot. If all thirteen men and their captain were taken off the cruiser, they'd be over the weight limit by six.
Austin said, 'I've been running the figures in my head. Estimate a hundred-fifty pounds per man, and we've got more than a ton of weight. There's a safety margin built into the Lamprey, so it's prob- ably no big whoop, except for the lame ballast tank.'
'No problem. We've got a backup pump if the main isn't work- ing.' In designing the Sea Lamprey, Zavala had followed common
practice and built redundant systems. Zavala paused. 'Some of the crew might be dead.'
'I've been thinking about that,' Austin said. 'We'd increase our safety margin if we left bodies down there, but I'm not leaving until we've got every man aboard. Dead or alive.'
The cockpit grew silent as both men considered the awful possi- bilities. The only sound was the hum of electric motors as the un- gainly craft dropped into the depths. Before long, they were at the side of the cruiser. Austin directed Zavala to the penetration point. Then came a soft clunk as the front end of the submersible bumped the curved steel plates. Electric pump motors hummed, and the sub- mersible stayed where it was, glued to the steel by a vacuum.
The escape tunnel, made of a tough but pliable synthetic material, was extended. Eight vertical and horizontal thrusters kept the vehi- cle steady under the direction of computers that monitored its move- ment in relation to the current. The instruments indicated when the seal was complete. Normally, a thin probe would penetrate the hull to look for explosive fumes.
Sensors gauged the pressure within the seal and kept the vacuum on place. Given the safe signal to enter, Austin strapped on a small air tank and a scuba regulator and emerged from the air lock. There was some leakage around the seal, but not enough to worry about. He started to crawl through the escape tunnel.
Inside the cruiser, the crew and captain had slipped into a deathlike sleep. Captain Petersen was roused from his cold slumber by the sound of a giant woodpecker. Damned bird! While one level of his brain cursed the source of the noise, another was automatically ana- lyzing it, grouping the raps into familiar patterns, each the equiva- lent of a letter.
HELLO
He flicked the torch on. The chef had heard the noise, and his eyes were as big as fried eggs. The captain's stiff fingers groped for the wrench by his side and banged it weakly against the hull. Then again, with more force.
The reply was immediate.
MOVE AWAY
More easily said than done, the captain thought. Petersen told the chef to back off from the bulkhead, then followed, rolling out of his bunk. He crawled across the deck and called out to the other men to move. He sat with his back to a locker for what seemed an eternity, not sure what to expect.
Austin crawled back into the Lamprey. 'Mission accomplished,' he said.
'Turning on the can opener,' Zavala said. He hit the switch for the ring of cutting lasers. They sliced through the two-inch metal skin as easily as a paring knife through an orange. A monitor showed the penetration and the brilliant red of the lasers. The lasers automati- cally shut off.
Petersen had been watching as a faint pink circle deepened in color until it was a bright molten reddish-orange. He felt welcome heat against his face. There was a hollow clang as a section of the hull fell into the cabin, and he had to shield his eyes against a bright disk of light.
Steam filled the escape tunnel, and the edges of the opening were still hot from the laser cutters. Austin pushed a specially made lad- der over the rim and stuck his head through the opening.
'Any of you gentlemen call a taxi?' he said.
Despite his lighthearted manner, Austin wondered if the rescue was too late. He had never seen such a bedraggled bunch. He called out for Captain Petersen. A grease-covered apparition crawled for- ward and croaked, 'I'm the captain. Who are you?'
Austin climbed into the ship and helped the captain to his feet. 'The introductions will have to wait. Please tell your men who can still move to crawl through that hole.'
The captain translated the order. Austin threw a couple of soggy blankets onto the rough edges of the opening, then helped those who couldn't make it under their own power. Petersen collapsed as he was trying to crawl into the submersible, and Austin had to give him a shove, then clambered in behind him. As he entered the air lock, he saw water trickling in through the rim of the seal where Zavala had done a hasty patch job.
He quickly closed the hatch behind him. Zavala had put the con- trols on auto while he pulled the crew through the air lock. The bulky survival suits didn't make the task any easier. It was a miracle that any of the crew was still alive. Amazingly, some had made the trip themselves. The passenger space consisted of two padded benches running the length of the sub, separated by a narrow aisle. The survivors crowded onto the benches or stood in the aisle like commuters on a Tokyo subway.
'Sorry there's no first-class section,' Austin said.
'No complaint,' said the captain. 'My men will agree that it is bet- ter than our former living arrangements.'
With the crew settled, Kurt returned to the cockpit. 'We had a lit- tle leakage around the seal,' he reported.
