The watchstanders turned to their tasks. Keebes glanced up at the sonar display, waiting for the supertanker to become visible on the screen.
Comdr. Toshumi Tanaka stood in the center of the control room of the Winged Serpent, the square room’s center dominated by the periscope control center. The starboard forward corner was the electronic section devoted to ship control, the starboard aft quarter the reactor controls, the port forward section laid out for navigation. The most crowded was the port aft corner, weapons and sensors control. The control room was electronically connected to a control system, the “Second Captain,” a neural network-layered control system that was only one development-generation behind the computers that controlled the Destiny I’ll-class ships.
The Second Captain was able to control the ship and function without a crew — not very well but with adequate programming it could fight its way out of a battle.
Tanaka preferred that it just take orders and leave ship command to the people.
On the Second Captain’s sensor display now were several jumping, undulating curves, a second display showing the curves to be a Los Angeles-class nuclear submarine lurking in the shipping channels. Probably sent to enforce the blockade.
“Program the two Nagasakis in tubes one and two for the enemy submarine and open the outer doors on tubes one and two.” atlantic ocean USS Piranha Bruce Phillips lay on his rack with his arm over his eyes.
The phone from the conn buzzed.
“Captain.”
“Off’sa’deck, sir. Sounding is 600 fathoms. We’re legal, Captain.”
“How long to the Labrador Sea?”
“By the morning, sir. Are you going down?”
“I think I will.”
“Good night, sir.”
Phillips put the phone back, and without opening his eyes peeled off the poopysuit and got under the covers.
He yawned and fell asleep before he shut his mouth again. In his dreams he wore a sombrero and carried a machine gun, a bandoleer of bullets hanging off each shoulder.
“VLCC Petersburg, this is US Navy flight leader. Do you copy?”
Finally the captain of the Petersburg spoke up, his speech clear and understandable through his Russian accent. “This is the captain of the Petersburg. What do you want?”
“Sir, you are standing into danger. You are two miles from the exclusion boundary set up by the United States of America. Japan is now under blockade by forces of the US Navy. You are ordered to reverse course and turn away from Japan. Do you read me, sir?” Silence on the radio. “I say again, you are standing into danger,” Galvin repeated. Still no answer. “VLCC Petersburg, I am warning you that you are now one point five miles from the exclusion boundary. You are running the blockade set up by forces of the US Navy. You are ordered to turn back now. If you fail to turn around and reverse course our nuclear submarines will be forced to fire on you. Do you read me?”
“This is the captain of the Petersburg. I am within my rights under international law. I am turning off this radio.” Galvin continued to try to radio the Petersburg for several minutes, but finally the supertanker crossed the line of demarcation of the exclusion zone. Galvin switched his radio to the tactical-control frequency. “Uncle Joe, this is Aunt Sue, over.”
“Go ahead. Sue.”
“We’re unable to win the game. Over.”
“Roger, Sue, we’ll clean up. You can leave for backstage now. Out.”
Galvin dipped his wings and turned to the right, flying his formation away from the supertanker, far enough away to see it clearly as the twilight got darker.
USS Cheyenne The scrambled satellite UHF secure-voice circuit, the NESTOR, was piped into the conn on a red phone handset.
Commander Keebes had the red phone on his ear, the conversation playing on the overhead speakers for the crew to hear.
“Cousin George, this is Uncle Joe, over,” the speakers crackled.
“This is George, over.”
“Cousin George, Uncle Joe, authorization bravo six delta reading victor, mike, tango, five, four, mike, I say again, authorization bravo six delta reading victor, mike, tango, five, four, mike. Break. Commands from Grandfather Pete as follows. Immediate execute — Cousin George to clean up the garage, I say again. Cousin George to clean up the garage. Break. Over.”
Keebes read back the transmission to the phone from the notes taken by Jensen. The transmission ended after the other end confirmed that the message was correct.
Keebes looked up at Jensen. Two officers walked in with the sealed authenticator packet and opened it on Keebes’s orders. The B6D packet had a piece of paper inside reading VMT54M, the authentication on the radio transmission.
“It’s valid. Okay, attention in the firecontrol team.
We’ve just been ordered to shoot the supertanker. We’ll do this with a periscope approach. Horizontal salvo, tubes one and two. Carry on.” Keebes looked around at the crew. “Captain on the periscope.”
