The Lotus Eaters

SdL Orca, Shimmering Sea

The ocean floor below was far deeper than the sub's even theoretical crush depth. There'd be no escape in hiding among the clutter of sea bottom.

"The torpedo still hunting us just broke into our level, skipper," sonar announced.

Can't go down much; can't stay here.

"Inflate the rubbers, fore and aft," Quijana ordered. "Just enough for a mild positive buoyancy. I want to put the thermal layer between us and that torpedo. Level off just after we pass the thermal."

"Aye, skipper," helm answered. After a few minutes, the nose down angle the sub had taken on reversed itself as the bow began to ascend. The movement was so slow that, other than for the reversal, there was no sense among the crew of ascending.

Another quick glance at the right side of the main screen showed that the other torpedo, the one that had gone high, was still patrolling in a spiral and still actively pinging.

In some ways the screen was a distraction, presenting, as it did, a three dimensional problem in two dimensions. Quijana closed his eyes and tried to imagine the totality of the situation, with frigates hunting above, helicopters dipping above that, a barrage of sensors having been placed between him and the carrier, and probably another being dropped somewhere by now.

If we hadn't taken out the sub their primary effort would have been protecting the carrier. As is, and with us having dived so low, they probably think the carrier's safe enough. That means their major effort is going to be revenge. Well . . . I suppose I could understand that. The first barrage of sonabuoys was generally south. If they're putting one in now, it's probably north to keep us from heading to port and safety. So we head where? East or west, I think, but which?

West brings us nearer Santander; east there's not a decent port for two hundred miles. But we've got the endurance, easily, for either.

East or west? West or . . .

Yermo's voice was strained, if not shocked. "Skipper, the torpedo found us. Pinging like a bitch and making fifty knots for us. I make it impact in ninety seconds."

"Deception pod," Quijana ordered instantly. "Set for no delay. Dive! All dive!"