He heard Gundersen laugh. 'First civilian I've ever met with the guts to say that—it does make you want to say that the first time. Crank her around back and forth a little and take a look at the world before we go under.'
Rourke only nodded, turning the periscope slowly. Massive blocks of ice floated everywhere in the open water leading in the distance to the edge of the icepack.
Small waves—wind whipped Rourke judged—would momentarily splash the objective lens. Without looking away, he asked, 'Has there been as much change in the icepack as you'd suppose?'
'Another good remark, Dr. Rourke. Apparently a great deal of change.'
Rourke stepped back from the periscope, looking at Gundersen. 'Spreading?'
'Rapidly—I mean we can't really measure with any sophistication now because all the satellites are gone. But as best we can judge the icepack is advancing.'
'That's just marvelous,' Rourke nodded. He leaned back on the side of an instrument console.
'Down periscope,' Gundersen ordered, flipping the
handles up. 'Ed—you've got the con. I'd say take her down a little more than we normally do and ride herd on the ice machine—split the shifts so the operators will keep on their toes.'
' 'Prepare to blow,'' a man standing opposite Gundersen ordered. 'Rig for full negative.'
'Aye, sir,' a crewmen called back.
Gundersen stepped up to Rourke. 'Doctor—like to join me in my cabin—talk a bit?'
'Fine,' and Rourke followed Gundersen out. They walked the way Rourke and the lieutenant JG had come, turning off into a cabin with a wooden door, the lettering there reading, 'Commander Robert Gundersen, Captain.'
'Got my name on the door and everything,' Gundersen smiled, holding the door for Rourke. As Rourke entered the cabin he realized it was actually two cabins—Gundersen's office with a decent-sized desk comprised the main cabin and there was a door off to Rourke's left as he faced the desk—sleeping quarters?
Rourke decided that they were.
'Sit down, Doctor,' Gundersen said, nodding toward a couch on the far interior wall.
Rourke said nothing, but started toward the couch.
'Coffee?' Gundersen asked, pouring into a large mug from a hotplate on the bookcase behind his desk.
'Sure,' Rourke answered. 'Mind if I smoke?'
'No—we can scrub the air. Go ahead.'
Rourke took one of his small, dark tobacco cigars from the pocket of his blue chambray shirt, found the Zippo in the pocket of his jeans and rolled the striking wheel under his thumb.
'Where do you find lighter fluid?'
'Gasoline, usually—lighter fluid currently.'
'Thought I recognized a survivor in you. Here,' and Gundersen handed Rourke a truck-stop sized white mug,
the coffee steaming hot and smelling good as Rourke sipped at it. 'So,'
Gundersen sighed, sitting down opposite Rourke in a small leather chair. 'You're the mar everybody was so hot to find. Ex-CIA, I understand.'
'Yeah,' Rourke nodded, inhaling on his cigar, ther exhaling a cloud of gray smoke. He watched as the ventilation system caught it, the smoke dissipating rapidly.
'And the president needed you.'
'That's what Cole tells me,' Rourke nodded.
'That's what he tells me too.'
'Where'd you bump into Cole?' Rourke asked suddenly.
'We'd been surfacing at nights, trying to make contacl with a U.S. base—stumbled onto the U.S. II frequenc} after threading our way through a lot of Russian, if you know what I mean. With the satellites gone, the laser communication network was out. Just luck I guess.'
'Did you talk with President Chambers?'
'Spoke with a guy named Colonel Reed—all in code. Never really spoke at all. You know. But he was named on the communiques—all Reed under orders from Chambers.
Said they were sending out a man named Cole and a smal] patrol for an urgent mission we could help with.' Gundersen laughed. 'Didn't have anything else to do, Fired all our missiles. All we had left were torpedoes— nc enemy submarines around to shoot 'em at. I think most ol the Soviet Fleet that wasn't destroyed is fighting in the Mediterranean.'
'Used to be a beautiful part of the world,' Rourke nodded.
'Used to be—not now. It's a bloodbath ovei there—and a lot of radiation, I understand. You know, being a submarine commander and having a nuclear war—I feel like that guy in the book.'
'But this isn't Australia,' Rourke smiled.
