“Yours too!” she said. “Danny, there’s a submarine in the news — the
“Yeah.”
“It’s missing! It’s front page news here, the families on television are crying every night — it’s awful. Do we know anybody on the
“I’m not sure,” said Danny.
“They’re saying it’s lost! Do you know any more about it?”
“Well.”
“Oh,” she said. “I get it. You can’t talk about it.”
In his state room, the XO was sorting through the flood of incoming message traffic, sorting out what had to be acted on right away, all the while looking for the messages he was expecting.
Danny had showed him up — and good. He’d been doing this long enough to know that. But he was second-in-command so whatever success Danny had brought them would be reflected on him as well. And he took some consolation in the fact that Danny would carry this around with him: he was the man who sunk a US submarine. He’d done his job masterfully, and completed his mission, but that fact remained. Danny had killed a boat. In the small world of the submarine force, that would be a cloud looming over him. It was more than superstition, although that would be a factor. But even completely rational men would recognize that Jabo wasn’t a guy you wanted to be around if you wanted a nice quiet career. And the submarine force was small. He and Jabo would cross paths again someday, and the XO would be able to get to him somehow, either by direct attacks or by laying obstacles in his path. Torpedoes or mines.
In the meantime, the XO would do what he could to seize the high ground. In a burst of inspiration he’d dashed off a message to Xerox, explaining to them how’d they’d fixed their machine at sea, an example of can-do spirit that reflected on the best tradition of the sea services. He fantasized that those Xerox executives might seize this, the story of how vital their machines were and how clever these submariners were. The XO’s fantasy even went further, he imagined a time after he got out of the navy when he might go to work for Xerox, the story of the repair at sea propelling him to lofty heights in the company.
A few hours later, outside of Pearl, a tug appeared at their side, and with it an orange, waterproof bag of US Mail. This included a certified letter from Xerox, which the XO was handed in the control room. He eagerly tore it open.
It was a single sheet of paper, signed by a VP of Customer Service. It explained that in allowing a non-certified technician to repair the copier, the
