conditioning and team integration all planned out, and you can read the manuals on this stuff in odd scraps of time.'
'Okay,' she said. 'Um, how many rounds per clip?'
'Eighteen for the pistols. Two columns side by side.' Clayton handed Ilse a dummy round, colored blue.
Jeffrey looked at it too. It was rectangular, with a pointed bullet sticking from one end. As Ilse passed it to him, their fingers brushed.
'What loads you packing?' Jeffrey said, making himself stay all business once again.
'We alternate,' Clayton said. 'Teflon-coated, and copper-jacket hollow point, both three hundred grains. A double-tap takes care of most contingencies, and you don't need to keep track of what's in the chamber.' Jeffrey nodded, satisfied.
'If these guns are electric,' Ilse said, 'what if they short out? And seawater's corrosive.'
'Good point,' Clayton said. 'And don't forget, blood's a good conductor too. We use waterproof equipment bags, made of Kevlar, till we come ashore. They have adjustable flotation bladders so they won't sink.' He pointed to the weapon in her hand. 'But per your question, these are made of special plastic and they're rated to ten meters with the clip in and the muzzle plug. Just in case.'
'They won't go off by accident?'
Clayton smiled. 'You need to practice safety like with any firearm.'
'Wait a minute,' Jeffrey said, studying his pistol. 'These things have iron sights.'
'With tritium dots for night work,' Clayton said. 'But that's all just for backup. Put your helmet on again, then plug this wire into the bottom of the pistol grip. Twist clockwise and it locks to double as a lanyard.' He gave the gear to Jeffrey, then showed him how to activate the power on the weapon.
Once hooked up, Jeffrey saw a cross-hair reticle in his visor image. It moved when the pistol moved, aimed where the pistol aimed.
'Accelerometers and very-low-energy laser interferometers,' Clayton said, 'with each helmet tuned to a different wavelength so they won't clash. The visor always knows exactly where the weapon's pointing, even if you're off target and the bad guy's on the skyline.'
'No more red dot on the target?'
'Nope. Too obvious, and with smoke or fog or dust that laser beam would lead right back to you. This way your kill won't know that you just drew a bead. Until, that is, he suddenly checks out.'
'I like it,' Jeffrey said. He glanced at Ilse. She looked doubtful. Clayton touched her shoulder. 'Killing's never easy for the good guys.' Jeffrey nodded as old memories returned. 'We have four days for clicking in.'
'What's that mean?' Ilse said.
'Altering our minds,' Jeffrey said. 'Bonding, and turning off the outside world. Forgetting who we are, becoming what we need to be, to get this done.'
D MINUS 3
As Jeffrey finished dressing, he heard dull thumps through the bulkhead from Ilse's cabin right next door. He wondered what she might be doing — some kind of exercises, probably. She did seem in great shape. Jeffrey bent to tie his shoelaces and Commodore Morse knocked and entered.
'Good day, Commander,' Morse said brightly. He put a thick sheaf of files on the upper bunk, then began to strip down to his Skivvies.
'Good morning, sir,' Jeffrey said.
'Thanks again for sharing your little sanctum with me.'
'It's no problem, Commodore, that rack is meant for guests. I get to know some interesting people. Besides, it's nice to have the company.' The thumping next door stopped.
Morse grabbed a towel and his toilet kit. 'And it's nice to be on a real warship. Surface units make me nervous…And aeroplanes? Forget it.'
'They say the same about us, sir,' Jeffrey said, and both men grinned.
'Good Lord,' Morse said, 'now she's singing.' Jeffrey heard Ilse through the bulkhead, but he couldn't make out the tune. She seemed to have a good voice, though. It struck him what a complicated person Ilse Reebeck was, moody and intense, sometimes so American in her speech and thinking and sometimes so unreachable. A minute later someone knocked. 'Come in,' Jeffrey called. It was Ilse, rosy pink and wide-awake.
'Oh, excuse me, Commodore,' she said, seeing Morse there in his underwear. She was wearing a denim jump suit, baggy in some places and a bit too snug in others, with a Challenger baseball cap in matching blue.
'I like to shower before I sleep,' Morse said, slightly embarrassed.
'I'll remember that for next time, sir,' Ilse said. 'I just got up an hour ago.' Morse nodded, then went through the side door into the CO/XO shower. He turned on the water, then he started singing.
'I'm on watch in twenty minutes,' Jeffrey said to Ilse. He checked himself one more time in the dressing mirror. 'I need to scan the log and take some reports before then. What's up? Did you sleep well?'
'Fine, yes. These mattresses are very firm.' Ilse looked at his, as if to see if it was different.
'Good back support,' he said.
'I want to work with Lieutenant Sessions on the Agulhas Current,' Ilse said. 'We'll have to head right through it and I can help.'
'That's good,' Jeffrey said. 'Talk to the navigator too.' 'You give permission?'
'For sure,' Jeffrey said, liking how she looked with that cap on. She'd bunched her hair up above the little plastic sizing strip at the back, making a kind of ponytail. 'So far you've been a real help, Ilse. Your enhancements to our models made a difference when we fought those Axis diesel subs. It's like having a sailing master aboard, twenty-firstcentury style.'
'You mean the guy who advised the captain in the old men-o'-war?'
'Yeah,' Jeffrey said. 'Currents, soundings, weather, tides, wooden ships and iron men.' Ilse smiled. 'Was he part of the crew?'
'Warrant officer.'
'What's that mean?'
'It's like being a noncommissioned officer, like a master chief, but you're more senior. Your pay and privileges are in line with a lieutenant maybe, even a lieutenant commander.' Ilse seemed to like that.
'Can I follow you around while you get ready for your watch?'
'A little tour?' Jeffrey said.
Ilse nodded.
'Ready?' Jeffrey said.
'Yes.'
'See,' Jeffrey said, 'the oncoming watch standers already took over, except for me.'
'You always go last?' Ilse said.
'On this boat, yeah. The main thing's consistency.' 'Now what?' Ilse said.
'I'll take reports, starting with the helm.'
'Sir,' LTJG Meltzer said, 'fly-by-wire ship control is rigged for nap-of-seafloor cruising, top speed twenty-six knots, general course now two one five, following route laid down by the navigator.'
'Sir,' COB said, 'our depth is five two four zero feet, material condition ZEBRA, patrol quiet in the boat.'
'Thanks, COB, Meltzer,' Jeffrey said, then turned to Ilse. 'I make up a watch bill every month. I try to mix people around now and then so all the crew can work together. But I also like to have the battle stations roster on duty often so they stay sharp as a group, not just at general quarters.'
'Like now,' Ilse said. 'They're your lead-off team.'
'Yup, the most experienced guys.' Jeffrey sat down next to the off-going OOD at the command workstation. Jeffrey quickly skimmed the newest entries in the handwritten logbook, then spent more time on Captain Wilson's most recent instructions.
'Running as before, sir,' the OOD said as Jeffrey finished. He was a junior officer from Engineering. 'No new
