The Monster Wheel Affair - McDaniel David - Страница 19
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"This gives you a shell of moving water, inside which your submarine floats. And because of the pressure differential in the flow, as long as you are moving, sonar will be refracted around you rather than bouncing off. You will, in effect, be invisible. Of course, when you slow down or stop, the pressures will equalize and you will reappear. Any more questions?"
The two U.N.C.L.E. agents looked up at the Coanda Squid. It rested in its cradle like a finless bomb, with the distant blue-white tubes of the overhead fluorescents casting distorted highlights on its bulging surface. Solo remembered something his partner had once said: "Personally, I believe color television to be impossible too. But since it does exist, I will act as if I believed in it."
He said so. Illya glanced at him, and smiled wryly. The last time he had said that they had been faced with another device, for which no published equations existed, and which was to be used against them—and the rest of the world—by their enemies. This submarine, on the other hand, did have sound, recognized scientific principles behind it. But then, so did color television.
"Napoleon," he said, "you have simply got to learn to move with the times. So many marvels are constantly being invented, you should learn to accept them."
"Illya, you know I just have a naturally inquisitive mind. Besides, I like to know how things work before I trust my life to them."
Illya nodded. "Let's take a look inside."
They ducked under the cradle, and opened the lower hatch. As they did so, Simpson pointed out the door hinge. "The bearing here is lubricated by the sea water itself," he said. "It reacts with the material to form a smooth film. The greater the pressure, the more efficient the lubrication. One at a time in the airlock, please. You may find it a little crowded with three in the pressure hull, but there will be enough room to see."
Napoleon followed him, and found a metal tube which appeared to run the whole height of the submarine, to the matching hatch on the top. There were hand grips along the sides, and partway up he found another hatch open on the forward side of the tube. He pulled himself up and through this, and found himself in one side of a sphere. The walls were lined with gear, with three bunks folded up against one side. A small partition shielded a chemical toilet, and next to the bunks a tiny sink and an electric stove made a compact but efficient galley.
Two control seats, contoured and equipped with safety harnesses, bracketed the inner orifice of the porthole. Both panel layouts seemed identical, with sonar display screens, and matching controls. The sub was apparently maneuvered like an airplane—the wheels and pedals looked the same, and Napoleon recognized rate-of-climb, turn-and-bank, and similar aerial indicators.
Illya joined them, and after a quick look over the living facilities went straight to the control board. He fitted himself into the righthand seat and tried out the wheel, reached experimentally for the controls, and nodded satisfaction when he found them all comfortably within an arm radius.
Napoleon climbed up to the other seat, and found it a good fit. Simpson stood between them. "Is everything satisfactory?" he asked.
"So far," said Illya. "What's our cruising range, and how long is the oxygen supply?"
"Range of this model is only about a thousand miles. The tanks carry air for nine days for two people, six days for three. This is considering eight hours of sleeping per day, no smoking, and no prolonged violent exertion. You will, of course, be completely checked out on the control systems. Any questions before we start?"
"Yes," said Illya. "The bearings in the doors are lubricated only by sea water; the electromagnetic pumping system will work only on sea water. In other words, this would be useless in fresh water."
Simpson thought quite a while. "Well..." he said at last, "you're right. It will work perfectly only in one particular environment, even though it is a large environment. But in case of emergency, this gauge here"—he pointed—"reads the salinity of the water. Should it drop towards the red zone, you are coming into an area of fresh water, such as might be caused by the outflow of the mouth of a large river, or an undersea spring. It also trips a buzzer, which can be turned off by this button below the gauge, as warning. Until we develop some more radical departures, you will have to be content with this.
"Incidentally, should it become necessary, you do have small auxiliary motors to pump the water out the propulsion vents in a more conventional manner, but I'm afraid they do make a small amount of noise. Yes, Mr. Solo?"
"Ah—I notice the speed indicator has three sets of calibrations on it: knots, kilometers per hour, and miles per day. Why?"
"Well, I put knots there because this is, after all, a ship of sorts. Kilometers per hour is the international standard measure of speed. And I added miles per hour because that's what I think in. Also, this way you won't have to do conversions in your head."
"What about me?" asked Illya. "I'm Russian. For me you should have a speed meter calibrated in versts per hour."
Simpson shrugged. "It's only three cents more for an extra meter face, after all."
Illya grinned at Napoleon, who shared his little joke, and appreciated the technician's comeback. Without further comment, they went on to discuss the inertial guidance system, which handled most of the navigation for the Squid.
Their checkout occupied the rest of the day, including a break for lunch, which was prepared from the freeze-dried concentrates in the Squid's stores and cooked up on the electric stove. By the time the clock on the instrument panel read 2200 GMT, which Napoleon's electric wrist watch translated as 5:00 P.M. they had learned a good deal about the internal functioning of the sub.
The following day they took it out into the East River (which is actually a salt-water tidal estuary rather than a true fresh-water river, which would have interfered with the operation of the Squid) and with Simpson guiding them they cruised submerged through the murky waters of the Upper Bay, and then east past Coney Island and Rockaway Point. Both Napoleon and Illya spent a pleasurable afternoon handling the sub, and leaving and entering the airlock in scuba gear while submerged.
When they returned, wet and exhausted, to the secret harbor under U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters that evening, a message from Waverly awaited them.
After briefly refreshing themselves, they reported to the familiar office on the topmost level. Their superior looked up from his work to greet them and inquire about their progress. The necessary amenities disposed of, he continued, "Something new has come up on your current assignment. I have the tape somewhere around here of the latest broadcast from the Monster Wheel—but if you don't understand Esperanto I can tell you roughly what it said:
"First let me explain that there has recently been some discussion—on a very high level, of course, and terribly secret—of attempting to fire a missile at the Wheel. Sometime this morning, apparently, the Wheel began voice transmission again. Without addressing anyone in particular, it stated in so many words that any missile approaching with twenty kilometers would be considered hostile, and the nation that had launched it would be bombarded with thermonuclear devices from space."
He paused while his two top agents looked at each other, and raised two pairs of eyebrows slightly. Then he continued, a slight tone of annoyance creeping into his voice. "They concluded by saying that they had made no threats to any nation, and had broken no laws, but they would defend themselves if attacked. And of course as far as that goes they are correct. There's no law in the world against launching a space station without a license. Nor is there any that says you must identify your space stations. But every one of the governments represented by the United Network Command is biting its collective fingernails and urging me to do something about this menace in the sky."
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