The Lotus Eaters

SdL Orca, Shimmering Sea, Terra Nova

"All stop," Quijana ordered, as soon as he was informed that the Gallic submarine was arming itself. The clicker was electronically, although not mechanically, tied in to the drive system, to the extent that it would stop clicking if the jet pumps stopped, or increase or slow its rate of clicking if the sub's speed went up or down.

And now what? They're nuclear, with maybe two or three months rations aboard. I'm not; I can't replenish my air anything like that long; and we'd all starve long before he does. Fuck.

Garcia walked over to stand next to Quijana's command chair. "If it comes to it, skipper," the Exec whispered, "The bitch is already in line with our rear tubes. At this range"—the main screen indicated the Gallic sub was less than a kilometer astern—"she'd hardly know what hit her if we use the supercavitating torpedo we've got back there."

"Ten seconds is long enough to press a firing button," Quijana answered.

"Yes, sir," Garcia agreed. "Yes, sir, it is. But if the sub's destroyed, and there's no one to provide guidance to the torpedo, we've got a much better chance."

"You want to start a war, XO?"

"No, sir. But I don't want to die right now, either."

Neither do I, Quijana silently agreed. But . . ."I will press on with my Cazador mission, though I be the last man standing."

"Yes, sir," Garcia agreed. "We all went to the school, too."

"The thing that bugs me, Dario," Quijana said, "is that frog captain. Flooding tubes is not a minor step. Either he's got a crappy attitude or he's got orders to engage. I wish I knew which it was."

"Maybe not," Garcia answered. "Maybe we just make him nervous."

"We don't get nervous that easily," Quijana said.

"We aren't responsible for guarding a multi-billion drachma nuclear carrier either, skipper."

"I'm not sure that makes things any better." Quijana considered, and compromised. "Weapons, stand by to fire number fourteen at the Gaul. My command only."

"Aye, sir."