'You think they're all connected somehow, Captain?'
'I do, Gunther, I do. The bomb may have been sabotage from within, coordinated with the so-called Allies. The fallout mix will tell.. And how else could they have known precisely where the daily safety corridor lay?'
'It doesn't seem possible,' Van Gelder said. 'We have such tight security everywhere.'
'Treason,' ter Horst said. 'There'll have to be a formal investigation of it all…Voortrekker will be laid up for a while — I'll use my influence to get to chair the board personally.'
'While we're in dry dock, Captain, in the bluff?'
'Yes,' ter Horst said. 'And when I find out who among our people were responsible, I'll put the nooses round their necks myself!'
Two ex-French Mach 2 interceptors roared by low off the bow, like arrowheads with their canard winglets under the canopies — under the winglets the aircraft now wore Iron Crosses. They vanished over the horizon, then a messenger popped his head out of Voortrekker's bridge hatch — Van Gelder resolved some minor matters quickly.
'Saved by a bunch of fly-boys, Gunther,' ter Horst said a minute later. 'Who'd have ever thought?'
'We did our best, sir,' Van Gelder said. 'The important thing is that we live to fight another day.'
Ter Horst sighed. 'This engagement was like in their Civil War, the battle between the world's first ironclads, Monitor and Merrimack. They fought each other to a standstill, then withdrew, and not for lack of courage on either side.'
'Virginia, sir, not Merrimack,' Van Gelder said. 'The South renamed her when she was rebuilt.'
Ter Horst stared into space, then set his jaw. 'I underestimated the Americans. I took much too much for granted, and I fell for their clever tricks. So be it, but I swear to you, no longer. Next time we meet Challenger, she and her crew will die.'
NIINDELO, SAO VICENTE ISLAND, REPUBLIC OF CAPE VERDE, 10 DAYS LATER
The music blaring off the crowded patio was a kind of reggae with an African beat. The rhythm stirred Jeffrey's blood as he gazed across the narrow strait to Santo Antao, the next island in the volcanic chain, the 6,500foot-high peak of Tope de Coroa bristling with antennas and missile sites. He glanced at his watch and his heart started pounding — thirteen hundred local, finally. Jeffrey turned back toward the hotel. Ilse was coming.
'Hi,' she said. 'I got your message.' She wiped some loose strands of hair from her forehead. 'I ate already, but. '
Jeffrey smiled. 'So how were your first two days of so-called R&R?'
'More like an interrogation than a debriefing,' Ilse said.
'Mine too,' Jeffrey said. 'Let's find some quiet.' They walked together closer to the edge of the sheer cliff. The trade wind blew steadily from the northeast, as it always did. The weather was sunny and warm, as usual in Cape Verde. The slopes around were covered with sparse desertlike scrub. There were grains of sand beneath Jeffrey's feet, blown all the way from the Sahara, from four hundred miles east across the equatorial Atlantic.
'I'm sort of surprised they didn't fly you out immediately,' Jeffrey said. He checked over his shoulder, then whispered, 'You know, so you could work on the archaea.'
'Others are at least as qualified as me, and they're U.S. citizens. They told me I have such a low travel priority it might be a couple of weeks before there's an open seat.'
'Strange,' Jeffrey said. 'Clayton's gang's supposed to be on the next flight out today.' Ilse shrugged. 'They gave me chits to use at the hotel. I don't even have any money…I guess they need to drain Otto dry first, before I'd have much to do.' 'Makes sense,' Jeffrey said. Then he just looked at Ilse. 'They're playing Christmas music,' she said.
'The words sound like some kind of Creole,' Jeffrey said.
'It's called Crioulo, actually,' Ilse said, 'made from Portuguese and some African languages. There're bits of Portuguese in Afrikaans too. I can make out words here and there.'
Jeffrey hesitated. 'So what are your plans now, Ilse?' 'Sleep for about three days,' she said.
'That's when I have to go,' Jeffrey said.
'You mean with the ship?'
'Yeah,' Jeffrey said. 'We're being sent to dry dock on the East Coast. I'm not sure where yet, which yard or base. Repairs, upgrades…'
'How's Captain Wilson?' Ilse said.
'Better,' Jeffrey said. 'I visited him this morning in his hotel room. They won't let him off the premises till we sail. Mandatory rest. He still gets terrible headaches.'
'And your navigator?' Ilse said.
'They can do amazing things now with electrode implants and mechanical assists, they told me.'
'Good luck to him,' Ilse said. 'Where's your submarine now?' Jeffrey turned to the sea. At the base of the cliff the strong surf pounded and creamed. ' Out there, somewhere,' he said. 'Deep and safe. We submerged as soon as we'd reammunitioned, and epoxied the bow sphere.'
'You know where she is?' Ilse said.
'I do, but if I told you I'd have to shoot you.'
Ilse giggled. 'And you're commuting in the ASDS?'
'Yeah,' Jeffrey said. 'It's like our gig or something. Wasn't designed for that, but it comes in handy.'
Ilse looked across the water, azure blue like the sky.
'Listen,' Jeffrey said, 'I'm totally buried in maintenance and paperwork, but I was, uh, I was wondering, I could carve out a few hours tonight, if you wanted to have dinner, just the two of us.'
Before Ilse could respond, Jeffrey noticed someone approaching from the patio. He cursed under his breath.
The woman wore a Royal Navy officer's uniform, like everyone else here lacking insignia and badges, for security. 'Excuse me,' she said. 'Are you Commander Jeffrey Fuller?'
'Uh, yeah,' Jeffrey said.
'I'm Lieutenant Kathy Milgrom.' She reached out her hand and Jeffrey shook it. Since Jeffrey was uncovered — hatless — they didn't salute. 'Here are my orders, sir,' Kathy said.
Jeffrey held the papers against his chest in case some satellite might be watching, and he read. Immediately he said, 'Oh God. You're one of them.'
Kathy nodded brightly. Jeffrey kept reading. It seemed that after eighteen months helping see HMS Dreadnought through the final construction and operational readiness phases, and upon the recommendation of Commodore Richard Morse, RN, Lieutenant Kathy Janet Milgrom was being seconded to USS Challenger. With the concurrence of higher authority in the United
States Navy, she would serve in a capacity to be determined by Challenger's executive officer at his discretion. It was noted Ms. Milgrom was expert in sonar. Jeffrey did a double take, then saw Kathy read his face.
'Yes, sir,' Kathy said. 'Commodore Morse and my father served together, in Conqueror during the Falklands crisis.'
'Well,' Jeffrey said, 'I suppose now I should say Welcome aboard.' Ilse broke in, 'I didn't know they had any women crew on nuclear submarines.'
'It's supposed to be an experiment,' Kathy said. 'It's very controversial.' Jeffrey caught her giving Ilse a wink. Ilse seemed highly unamused.
'You've talked to Captain Wilson?' Jeffrey said.
'Yes, sir,' Kathy said. 'For just a moment. He told me your ship's had a bit of experience with temporary mixed-gender manning, pardon my pun. He didn't give me details.'
'Plenty of time for that later on, I suppose,' Jeffrey said.
'I'm sorry to interrupt,' Kathy said to Ilse. She turned back to Jeffrey. 'I just wanted to quickly introduce myself, sir, before I went down to the ASDS in the harbor and caught the taxi, so to speak.'
