At the end of that report, the Navy reported the results of some extensive tests they’d run to determine the path of airborne contaminants across a submarine. They’d run the experiments on both a Trident and a 688 boat, like the
It was not a surprise to anyone who had ever spent time in shaft alley, the aft-most end of the engine room where the shaft that connected the ship’s propeller to the main engines actually penetrated the hull. It always smelled damp back there, the heaviness of unmoving air. And Lehane thought that unmoving air might be just what he needed.
As he walked aft he secured all the engine room fans he passed.
By the time he got to shaft alley, the ship had become ominously quiet. In shaft alley he could see, however, that the screw was still turning, which was mildly comforting. He counted the turns against his watch and saw they were still just going five knots. Suddenly the speed of the shaft increased, and that gave him hope, even though it had occurred without the announcement of a new bell. The change in speed made it appear that someone was still in control, perhaps clearing baffles at a higher speed in order to go to periscope depth. The acceleration stopped, however, and the speed smoothly reduced back to five knots.
From shaft alley he could also see the hydraulics that controlled the stern planes and the rudder; these also moved slowly, small iterative motions that showed the ship was just maintaining course. You could take manual control from back there, steering the ship from shaft alley in the event of a problem with the ship control in the control room. Which was why there was a sound powered phone back there.
Lehane picked up the phone and began speaking.
“Shaft alley here… shaft alley on the line.”
There was no response.
He was just getting ready to hang up when he heard a voice. “Shaft alley?”
“Shaft alley on the line!”
“This is Baer… I’m forward of maneuvering. I just looked, they are all unconscious in there. What the fuck is going on?”
“Get back to shaft alley,” said Lehane. “Turn off every fan you pass on the way back.”
Baer showed up a few minutes later, his eyes wide with fright.
“You see anybody else?”
“Nobody on their feet,” said Baer. “How about you?”
“Nobody. And nobody is on the line.”
“Jesus Christ, what do you think it is?”
“No idea,” said Lehane. “Something in the air I guess. Poison.”
“They need to blow to the surface!” said Baer. “What are they waiting for?”
“Maybe there’s nobody left to do it.”
Baer slumped at that, and went pale. “Oh fuck.”
They both looked down at the smooth shiny steel of the hydraulics for the stern planes. “Somebody is still driving, it looks like,” said Baer, trying to make himself feel better.
“It’s the autopilot,” said Lehane. “I’m pretty sure. You can tell by how smoothly it’s working… super small adjustments.”
They watched and confirmed what Lehane was saying.
“What about manual control?” said Baer suddenly. “We can control it from back here! We could just jack those stern planes, drive right up to the surface! We could go right up through the engine room hatch!”
Hope shot through Lehane for just a moment at that… it was a good idea. He looked down at the controls and ran through the procedure in his mind.
“Fuck,” he said. “We can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“They have to enable remote operation in control.”
“Goddamit!” said Baer.
They ruminated, again their eyes drawn to the robotically efficient movements of the stern planes and rudder.
“I’ll do it,” said Baer.
“Do what?” said Lehane.
“I’ll go forwardand shift control to shaft alley.”
“No,” said Lehane. “Don’t do it. We don’t know what’s going on up there.”
“I’ll wear an EAB,” he said. EABs were air tight rubber masks that could connect via their hose to manifolds throughout the ship, designed to provide an emergency supply of air.
Lehane thought it a bad idea but in truth… he didn’t have a better one. But looking at Baer — he looked a little pale. Maybe it was just fear, and he hadn’t coughed once. But if one of them was to go forward, he wanted to make sure they made it all the way. And Lehane still felt strong.
“You ever do this?” he asked. “You ever take local control?”
“Shit yes. Dozens of times.”
