The Nautilus Sanction

7

Drakov stood at the periscope. He took his face away from it and looked at them as they came in. There was a grim expression on his face.

“We have arrived in the year 1739,” he said, “in time to witness a sea battle.”

“We’re going to surface?” Land said.

“No, Mr. Land. However, you will be able to see through here.” Drakov indicated the periscope. “If you are familiar with your history, you will know that England is involved in a war with Spain. We are at present in the Caribbean and above us a Spanish ship is being attacked by an English privateer. Would you care to see this sterling example of humanity at its worst?”

They took turns looking through the periscope. The two ships, oblivious of the submarine’s presence close beneath the surface, were drifting closer and closer, exchanging cannon fire. The smaller ship, the English privateer, was coming up on the Spaniard’s stern so as to prevent a broadside. The English captain was moving in at a slight angle from the rear, his cannoneers blazing away at the masts of the Spanish ship. As Verne looked through the periscope, he saw one of the masts shot away, the debris falling to the deck of the crippled Spanish ship. He called out to the others what was happening, then let Andre take a turn.”Has the Spaniard struck his colors?” Drakov asked.

“No,” said Andre.

“Then it will be bloody,” Drakov said. “They will continue to pound away at each other until they are close enough for the British seamen to swarm over the bulwarks of the Spaniard. They will do each other in with muskets, pistols, cutlasses and knives, the decks running red with blood until one or the other prevails. And for what? What will have been won? This war will spread through Europe and become the War of the Austrian Succession. Then, in a few short years, the Seven Years War, followed by the War of American Independence, then the French Revolution, then Napoleon. It never ends. It never ends.”

Drakov picked up a phone.

“Tubes forward,” he said. “Prepare to fire two mark fifty torpedos. This is no drill. Repeat, this is no drill.”

“Drakov, don’t!” said Lucas, stepping forward, but instantly he was grabbed from behind by the burly von Kampf.

Verne stared at Drakov. “Why?” he said.

Drakov had a slightly glazed look in his eyes. “If they want war, then I shall give them war,” he said. “Sound general quarters.”

The alarm for battle stations came on throughout the ship. “Tubes are flooded, Captain. The outer doors are open.”

“Feed your range and bearing to the torpedo room, Chief,” said Drakov.

“Drakov,” said Finn. “What’s the point?”

Drakov did not respond.

“Set!” said the chief.

“Fire one,” said Drakov.

The chief punched the firing button, keeping his gaze on the indicator lights. The torpedo left the flooded tube under its own power.

“First torpedo under way, Captain.”

“Fire two,” said Drakov. His gaze was unfocused. Verne stood at the periscope. They all waited tensely. “Directly on target, sir,” the chief said.

Verne gasped as both ships exploded in geysers of flame and debris.

“Direct hits!” the chief said.

Drakov walked out of the control room.

“Captain?” the chief said.

Drakov paused in the hatchway. “Oh,” he said, sounding faintly puzzled. “Secure from general quarters.”

They suited up in the wardroom. There was no need to use escape hatches to get out of the sub when they could simply clock down to the ocean floor directly below. On the floor of the wardroom, Benedetto had placed a programmed R-30 warp disc. It would generate a field large enough to enable anyone standing within a thirty-foot circumference of it to be teleported to the wreck of the La Floridana. Everything had been cleared away and they stood ready in their bright orange diving suits and weighted boots. The packs containing the oxygen-manufacturing hemosponge apparatus were attached to their backs. Crewmen helped them on with their diving helmets. The helmets made them look as if they were spacemen. Wide faceplaces curved around the front and built-in lights were set into the helmet crowns. The party would consist of twenty divers. A number of the divers carried spearguns, several others carried various tools. All save Lucas, Finn, Andre, Land and Verne were equipped with underwater pistols which fired needle darts by compressed air.

Verne was nervous. “What will happen if I become ill again?” he said, sweat beading on his forehead. “If I should become ill inside my helmet…”

“Possible,” said Drakov, “but unlikely, Mr. Verne. The effects are nowhere near as strong with a short teleportation as with a temporal transition. However, in the event you do become ill, it will be necessary for you to return to the Nautilus. I think you will be quite safe. You haven’t eaten anything since transition, have you?”

Verne shook his head.

“Was that a yes or a no?” said Drakov, coming close to look inside Verne’s faceplate.

“No,” said Verne.

“Good. Then if you all are ready, we will proceed.”

Drakov crouched down and activated the warp disc. It began to glow faintly around its perimeter, then the glow brightened quickly and they were standing on the ocean floor.

Verne reached out and grabbed Drakov’s arm.

“Nothing to be frightened of,” said Drakov. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” said Verne, softly. He swallowed hard. “I–I am not certain I can move, Captain.”

Drakov’s chuckle sounded in their helmets. “It’s simple, Mr. Verne. You put one foot in front of the other. Come.” “Mother of God,” whispered Land. He bent backward slightly, looking up at the Nautilus, which hovered above them like a giant whale.

“Beautiful, is it not?” said Drakov. “I never cease to marvel at it. A tranquil, deep-blue stillness. The water filters out the warm colors at this depth. Only the cool blue remains.” He swept his arm out, indicating submerged reefs. “Coral. The tiny architects of the sea. Slaving away for centuries, building their magnificent castles. Next to their graceful spires, even the grandeur of Mad Ludwig’s castle in Bavaria pales into insignificance.”

The other members of the party had moved on ahead, their lights beaming out before them. Schools of fish surrounded them, darting past like underwater fireflies. Vegetation undulated all around them, like a dancing forest.

“Keep together,” Drakov said. “This world is beautiful, but it is not without its hazards. Fortunately, we are well-protected from most of them. Coral is razor sharp and a certain type, called fire coral, can raise welts upon bare skin. Our suits will protect us from that, as they will from the spines of sea urchins and the stinging threads of the jellyfish known as the Portuguese man-of-war. However, we must be on the watch for sharks, which are ever unpredictable. They exist only to devour and their jaws are immensely powerful. Likewise the barracuda-a fish which is considerably smaller, but no less deadly. Mr. Land, as a seaman, you are familiar with these creatures, I trust?”

“I am, Captain.”

“In that case, you will be responsible for pointing them out to your friends in the event we should encounter them. Sometimes they will only circle round, investigating. Other times, both shark and barracuda will attack with incredible ferocity. They are quite deserving of respect.”

“I, too, am familiar with the appearance of these creatures, Captain,” Verne said, “though I have never actually encountered them. I have heard one should make violent waving or splashing motions to frighten off a shark.”

“I, too, have read that, Mr. Verne. However, practical experience has taught me one is just as liable to attract a shark with such motions as to frighten it away. Very little is known about these creatures. The only advice I can give you is to try not to appear as if you might be food.”

“And how does one do that?” said Andre.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Drakov. “Another creature to be wary of is the moray eel. It is rare to encounter one swimming in the open. They prefer to hide in dark places, such as caves and nooks within the coral or in the wrecks of ships. They will dart very quickly out of such hiding places, usually keeping a portion of their snakelike bodies hidden and fastened onto the nearest handy appendage. So please, try to refrain from groping around in spots where they might lie in wait. Some of them grow to be quite large and the larger ones may be able to penetrate the suits. Regardless of their size, they are universally tenacious. Should one grab hold of you, try not to panic. Call out for aid at once and one of us will come. Above all, remember that sharks are attracted by blood. Should the integrity of your suits be broken and you begin to bleed, it is imperative you return to the Nautilus at once. Again, do not attempt returning on your own. Call one of us to aid you. Any questions?”

“Yes,” said Andre. “What do we do if a shark attacks?”

“Try your very best not to make it angry,” Drakov said.

They moved on, walking like ballet dancers in slow motion across the sloping underwater ridge. Overhead, a giant manta ray “flew” past, its huge wings rippling gracefully. The jagged peaks of coral all around them teemed with life. Bright flashes of movement made the coral seem to gleam as tiny fish darted in and out of the numerous crevices. The sandy bottom they walked on sloped into a valley and fell off to greater depths beyond.

Drakov pointed. “There she lies,” he said. “La Floridana in her watery grave.”

It was a large wreck. Pieces of the ship were scattered allover the slope. Broken, ribbed sections of the hull brought to mind the picked-clean carcass of some giant underwater mammal. One broken section of mast stuck up at an odd angle, the other masts had been sheared off. A large mound of ballast stones from the ruptured hull looked like a convict’s rock pile, encrusted with vegetation, coral and shellfish. A large lobster scuttled across it. The crew of the Nautilus were already at work, two of them manning a portable airlift which had been clocked down from the submarine. Lightweight and powerful, the airlift was a compressor and a pipe with a diameter of twelve inches, steel teeth around its mouth for cutting through the sea grass. There was a valve upon the pipe for diverting the suction into the sea. In this way, the suction action could be stopped and a clogged pipe would not become buoyant and start to rise.

“Treasure hunting is hard work,” said Drakov, as they stood on a small rise watching the divers move around the wreck. “Much of it is done by hand. In order to check for hidden contraband, the ballast must be sorted through, stone by stone. It is a task which must be done slowly and carefully, or the stones which make up the mound could shift and trap a diver, even crush him.”

“What are they doing with that pipe?” said Verne.

“The airlift is the principal means of liberating loose items from the sea bottom,” Drakov said. “Other tools used are handpicks, spades and prybars. The men you see there are at work enlarging that opening in the hull. It will enable them to get inside the cargo hold, a task made easier by the position of the wreck.”

One of the divers came into view, brandishing a skull. Another found a cutlass. There were many cannonballs, ceramic pieces, shards of china and porcelain. The undiscovered wreck still contained all the cargo it had gone down with. Drakov was after the gold.

“Our ability to arrive upon the scene not long after the ship went down makes our task a great deal easier,” said Drakov. “There is still a ship to search through and there are still wooden chests to be found. A ship which has been underwater for a considerable length of time falls prey to the teredo, a voracious parasite also known as shipworm. The wood is eaten away and the vessel slowly disintegrates. Wood weakened by the worms breaks off and is carried away by the current or buried beneath the sand. Only mahogany and the larger, heavier pieces of timber survive for any great length of time. Iron falls prey to oxidation. Silver turns black with sulphate. Brass turns green and as corrosion sets in, metallic pieces become encrusted with coral and start to resemble stone. In time, the only things remaining to guide the treasure hunter are rotted sections of the hull and piles of ballast stones. The death of La Floridana is a fact, but we have come upon her corpse before it has totally decayed. Look there, already she has started giving up her riches.”

As he pointed, they saw two men bringing out a large wooden chest. They set it down upon the sea floor and began to hammer away at it with their picks, freeing the hasp from the rotting wood. Moments later, it was open, revealing a fortune in silver tarnished by the sea. As they approached to look closer, they saw the chest was full of irregularly shaped slivers, green with the action of the seawater on the copper used in the alloy as a hardening agent.

“Pieces of eight,” said Drakov, taking several and passing them out for the others to examine. “So called because each is worth eight reals. Colonial treasure hunters called them ‘cobs’ because of their irregular shape, which is the result of their being chiseled off a block of silver prior to stamping.”

“There must be hundreds of them in that chest!” said Land.

Simon Hawke

The Nautilus Sanction

One of the divers was heard over their helmets, speaking to Drakov. There was a quick exchange of Russian, then Drakov said, “I am told there are several more such chests within the hold.”

Land needed no more encouragement. He immediately joined the divers at their task of clearing the chests out of the hold. Finn, Lucas and Andre were content to watch, while Verne remained close to Drakov, peppering him with questions, turning ceaselessly in all directions to observe everything about the undersea world he found himself in. Their presence attracted several groupers, which swam about goggle-eyed, curious about the alien intruders. Finn made friends with one, discovering that it like being petted.

As the divers worked, La Floridana steadily disgorged her treasure. Hundreds of pounds of pieces of eight in wooden chests and sacks made of burlap; bar silver; gold doubloons or escudos; silver wedges weighing about four pounds each; silver and gold statues, rings, pendants, necklaces and crosses. They found gold ingots and an entire chest of gold imperials. They discovered several boxes containing jewelry set with emeralds and rubies, some of the stones the size of eyeballs. One diver spotted the ship’s anchor some distance away, wedged in a coral reef. The ship’s captain had thrown it out in a last desperate attempt to save his vessel from destruction, but it had struck on the submerged reef and the ship turned, foundering.

They went over to look at the anchor. It was huge. Standing, it would have towered over them. Already, the coral was encrusting it. Verne, interested to chip off some to study back aboard the sub, borrowed a handpick from the diver. Some of the coral came away, but a flash of brightness was also revealed. Verne chipped away some more, then the diver took the pick away from him and started chipping at the anchor in earnest. It was gold.

“Congratulations, Mr. Verne,” said Drakov, examining the results. “You have inadvertently uncovered a most audacious smuggling attempt. They made the anchor out of gold and then painted it over. You have discovered a fortune.”

Land swore, furious at not having found it himself, thereby earning a portion of the profits they would realize from its sale.

“Take heart, Mr. Land,” said Drakov. “You have already assisted in recovering much treasure. Your share will not be inconsiderable.”

Land turned away, then turned back quickly and gave Drakov a hard shove. With an exclamation, Drakov fell back, just in time to avoid being struck by a fifteen-foot shark that came diving down at them like a juggernaut. The shark seized upon the other diver and they heard him scream over their helmets as its jaws fastened upon him. A mist of blood filled the water as the shark thrashed, holding the diver in its jaws. Drakov fired his underwater pistol. The needle darts penetrated the shark’s tough. hide and it was paralyzed in seconds. It began to sink to the ocean floor, the diver still held in its jaws. Drakov bent down to check the man.

“He’s finished,” he said. “The blood will soon bring others. We must leave at once.”

He gave quick orders over the headset in his helmet and the divers began taking the treasure they had recovered back to the point at which they had clocked in. There were already other sharks arriving, drawn by the scent of blood, when they activated the warp disc and teleported back aboard the Nautilus.

When his helmet was removed, Drakov turned to Ned Land and said, “I neglected to thank you, Mr. Land. You saved my life.”

Land grunted.

“You will not find me unappreciative,” said Drakov. “But we can discuss that later. Right now, we are all tired and I suggest we retire to our cabins for some well-deserved rest. We’ve had a good day’s work.”

Back in their cabin, Lucas took all the dosimeters containing the listening devices and carefully wrapped them up and muffled them beneath one of the bunks. Verne’s exhaustion had finally made him fall asleep and he was stretched out in his bunk, snoring quietly.

“It looks as though you’ve made your decision, Ned,” said Finn.

Land looked at him blankly.

“That shark might neatly have solved our problem,” Finn explained. “But it would have meant a lost opportunity for you.”

Land understood. He shook his head. “I’ve decided nothing,” he said. “There may be riches to be found in this life, but what sort of life is it for a man, spending his days locked in an iron barrel at the bottom of the ocean? It’s not natural. I do not know why I saved him from that shark. I didn’t think. I only acted.”

“Finn isn’t blaming you, Ned,” said Lucas. “Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Finn said, sourly. “Maybe I am.”

“Drakov’s death wouldn’t have helped us recover the stolen shipment of warp discs,” Andre said. “And it would not have solved the problem of this submarine.”

“That’s true enough,” said Lucas. “We’ll be lucky if we can find the warp disc that clocks this sub. It’s probably no more than twelve inches in diameter and cleverly camouflaged. Besides, as we’ve already discussed, taking that disc out of commission won’t prevent them from replacing it by having someone clock out and get another one. There’s no way I can think of for us to knock out every warp disc on this sub. We’d have to take on the entire crew.”

“That leaves us only one option,” Finn said. “We have to destroy the sub.”

“They must have an arms locker somewhere aboard,” said Andre. “They may have warp grenades in there.”

Lucas massaged his temples. “Even if we could gain access to their arms locker, I don’t much fancy blowing myself away with this sub. If there isn’t any other choice, well, that’s what we’ll have to do. In that case, I don’t see any reason why all of us should die. Maybe we can overpower several of the crewmen at the right moment and relieve them of their discs. Then the others could clock out and whichever one of us remains to blow up the sub might have a chance to make it. But it would be a hell of a long shot.”

“Andre’s right, though,” Finn said. “We can’t just leave an entire shipment of warp discs lying around for anyone to find. Drakov must have a base of operations somewhere. We have to find out where.”

Andre smiled. “Think he’ll tell us if we ask him nicely?”

“No, but perhaps he’ll show us. It stands to reason he has a base. He’d need a submarine tender, at the very least. Before he puts his plan into effect, whatever his plan is, I think he’ll touch base.”

“Yes, but suppose he kills us before then?” said Lucas.

“Not much we can do about that, is there?” Andre said. “He’s liable to do just about anything. The man is insane.”

“Maybe that works for us,” Finn said. “If I were in his place, I would have killed us right off. This living paradox, instrument of Fate thing has really got a hold of him. Maybe we can play on that somehow.”

“Suppose I were to decide to join him?” Land said. They all turned to look at him.

“What I mean is,” Land said, “I’ve seen the treasure. My greed’s been awakened. I saved his life. What if I were to go to him and tell him, in secret, I’ve decided to accept his offer? I would say I overheard you three making plans and I will maybe pass on some of those plans to him. I’ll tell him I am afraid you three will spoil my chances of being a rich man. I will secretly become a part of his crew, but stay with you so I can spy on you and keep him informed, and watch out for my own interests. He might take me into his confidence and I might learn something of use. How does it sound?”

Lucas looked at Land with new respect. “It sounds good, Ned. Damn good.”

“Maybe too good,” Finn said. “How do we know that’s not exactly what you’ll do? Spy on us for him?”

Land was on his feet in an instant and in the next instant, Finn was on the floor. Land had his fists up.

“Get up,” he said. “Get up and fight!”

Finn sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw. “Not me,” he said. “You hit too hard.” He grinned. “I’m sorry, Ned. I had to do that. I’m the suspicious sort. I believe you.”

Land glowered at him. “How do I know that?” he said.

“Touche,” said Finn. “I’ll tell you how you know that. Because you hit me, that’s why.”

Land frowned. “That makes no sense at all.”

“It makes a great deal of sense,” said Finn. “If you were planning to double-cross us, I don’t think you would have hit me. You wouldn’t have reacted that way. You would have reacted with outrage at the suggestion, but then you would have tried your utmost to convince us you were sincere. A man who’s planning treachery would act deviously. He’d play up to those he’s planning to betray, not attack them.”

Land scowled. “I think you are a devious man yourself, mon ami.”

“You’re right,” said Finn. “That’s why I’ve lived so long.”

“The next chance you get, Ned,” Lucas said, “approach Drakov. Tell him you overhead us planning to break into his cabin to search for something called a warp disc. You won’t know what that is, of course, but you’ll tell him because you are afraid our efforts might ruin your chances of sharing in the treasure, maybe even get you killed.”

Land nodded. “But suppose my doing that gets you killed?” he said.

Lucas shrugged. “That’s just a chance we’ll have to take.”

The atmosphere at mess that night was jubilant. They might have expected otherwise, with the death of a member of the crew, but life went on. Treasure had been found and wine flowed freely. No one mentioned the man who had died.

Drakov was last to arrive, as usual, with the ever-present cadre of Shiro, Martingale, von Kampf and Benedetto in his wake. They had seen little of von Kampf and virtually nothing of Martingale. Land inquired of Drakov if he would ask Shiro to tattoo him and was invited to come to Drakov’s cabin after mess, where Shiro kept his inks and needles.

“I will do better than that, Mr. Land,” said Drakov. “Tattooing is a pleasant diversion for Shiro, but not much of a diversion for yourself. Thus far, you have only tasted of our life beneath the sea. In a short while, you will see how we recreate, as well.”

“We’re making port?” said Land.

“In a way,” said Drakov. “It is past time for my men to enjoy some liberty. The company of men is pleasurable, but somewhat limiting. I like to keep my crew happy.”

“Does that mean women?” Land said.

Andre gave him a wry look.

“It does, indeed, Mr. Land,” said Drakov. He turned to the commandos. “You may have noticed Mr. Martingale’s absence of late. He has been upon an errand for me. I am pleased to report matters are well in hand. Before too long, I shall be ready and you will know my plans in full at that time. I have decided to make good use of you.”

“With or without our consent?” said Lucas.

“Oh, you will give your consent,” said Drakov. “I feel sure of that. And you will be pleased to learn you will survive. At least, if you follow my directions.”

“And if we don’t?” said Finn.

“I think you will.”

“Why don’t you stop playing games and tell us what’s on your mind?” said Finn.

“I’m disappointed that you have not deduced it,” Drakov said. “Where is your imagination? I am in command of an underwater, mobile, virtually undetectable strategic missile base. What use might I make of it?”

“If you believe you can get away with international blackmail, Drakov, you’re madder than I thought,” said Finn. Shiro started to rise, but Drakov quickly motioned him back down.

“Please, Mr. Delaney,” he said, “Shiro is quite sensitive about the manner in which I am addressed. I would advise you not to provoke him. You would be no match for him. As for your suggestion, I thought you would give me credit for more imagination than that. In point of fact, I could easily get away with international blackmail, though I-but no. I will let you contemplate it further. It amuses me. At any rate, you will all know soon enough. For now, you may prepare to leave the Nautilus for a short time. We can hardly put into Barataria in a nuclear submarine. For that purpose, we require another type of ship.”

“Barataria?” said Land. “The name rings a bell. Where have I heard it before?”

“It should be well familiar to a seaman, Mr. Land,” said Drakov, “even one such as yourself, who has worked out of New England and Canada. You will have heard stories of Barataria, perhaps during your boyhood. There are several places we visit for recreation and Barataria Bay is one of them, a particular favorite with my men. In the year 1807, Barataria came into prominence as an island smuggling base. It is located at the mouth of a bay in the bayou country at the gulf near New Orleans. In many ways, Barataria was a tiny nation unto itself, a haven for pirates and smugglers where the law did not reach, at least for many years. The man who ruled this pirate island is one you will undoubtedly have heard of. He was one of the last freebooters, a legendary figure among corsairs. His name was Captain Jean Lafitte.”