The buoys were designed to announce a dire emergency onboard a nuclear submarine. Three conditions could cause the buoys to fire the explosive bolts that held them to the hull, after which they would float to the surface of the ocean and begin transmitting on a frequency monitored at designated listening posts on three continents. One, a large positive pressure inside the hull, indicating an explosion or fire. Two, excessive depth, well in excess of the ship’s test depth. And finally a timer that had to be reset manually at least once a day in the ship’s control room.
“That means twenty-four hours without action. And ignoring a fairly obnoxious alarm.”
“Accidental?” said Danny. “The ET’s forget to reset them?” It was inconceivable to him, but it had happened.
“We don’t believe so,” said Carr. “The ship had also missed a routine transmission a day earlier. Subpac had just sent a query message across the regular broadcast when the buoys began signaling. We haven’t heard a word from her since.”
The Captain spoke. “What do we think happened? Did she sink? Reactor accident? Are we going on a salvage mission?”
The Admiral and Carr shot a look at each other. “We don’t believe she’s sunk,” said the Admiral.
“We caught a trace of her on this SOSUS array a day later,” said Carr, pointing to a position on the chart. SOSUS arrays were extremely sensitive listening devices fixed to the ocean floor at key points throughout the world. “This was west of the BST buoys. She was still running quiet and deep at that point: they heard good screw turns indicating five knots. But remember — the buoys launched on the timer, not for collapse depth, or high pressure. In addition, if she sunk in ocean that deep, every tank would have imploded and that we should have heard loud and clear on the SOSUS net. We have no reason to think the submarine is not intact.”
“She’s just not responsive,” said Danny.
“And overdue,” said Carr. “As of noon today. So we have a ship that’s not responding, that we believe has not sunk. Based on that, we have three theories. One, some kind of catastrophic accident that has killed the crew, but somehow didn’t damage the equipment.”
“Like what?” said the Captain.
“Maybe some kind of gas leak,” said the admiral. “Johns Hopkins has been working with us on this, and the best they could come up with was a fire in one of the charcoal bed filters: it would burn quickly, and release enough carbon monoxide to kill everyone, but leave the ship more or less intact.”
“And she’s still steaming?”
The admiral spoke. “The geniuses are gaming this out for us as we speak, but we know it’s possible. With the equipment in good working order and the autopilot engaged, she could maintain course and speed for days. Maybe weeks. Especially at slow speed.”
“You’re not buying it?” said the captain.
“Not really. If it is some kind of equipment casualty, obviously it’s something we’ve never thought of. Or we would have fixed it.”
Carr continued. “The second theory is some kind of virus that’s wiped out the crew.”
“Any evidence of that?”
“No evidence,” said Carr. “But there are a couple of precedents. A Trident two years ago was hit so hard by the flu that they had to return to port — half the crew was incapacitated and two men ended up dying.”
“The
“Thirty years ago, a sturgeon-class boat had meningitis outbreak that killed four men.”
They mulled that over for a moment.
“What’s your third theory?”
“Maybe she’s okay. Maybe she’s just suffered a catastrophic equipment failure, a complete loss of power, and is adrift and on the surface. Crippled but alive.”
“Seems like they would come up with some way to send an SOS,” said the captain. “Christ, they still have a flare gun, right? Battery powered VHS radios?”
“No one has heard anything, no one has reported anything, and we’re combing satellite photos for any sign of her. But it’s a big ocean — maybe she is out there adrift. Let’s hope so. The only thing we know for certain is that she’s in trouble.”
“So what do you want us to do about it, Admiral?” asked the captain.
“Find her and track her. And as far as your crew is concerned — everybody but you three — it’s an exercise. The details are in your orders.”
“And after we find her?”
“Attempt to contact her as described in the special procedure.”
“And if we can’t?”
“We haven’t decided yet.”
The trio of officers from the
“Are we ready to go to sea?” the captain asked the XO.
“Yes sir. The reactor is shut down but the plant is warmed up. We could pull out in two hours.”
“Looks like we’ve got until the morning. Let’s rig for dive tonight, brief the wardroom after dinner. Do a reactor start up at five. Danny, you get ready for a nav brief tonight.”
“Aye aye sir,” they both said.
“Any questions?”
The XO said nothing, but after a few steps, Danny said “Yeah, I’ve got about a hundred questions.”
“I’m a busy man, Jabo. Give me your top one.”
