Intelligence

Gail M. R.

gmar2of5@aol.com

No matter how accustom to the unexpected you are, there comes that moment of disbelief; it runs through your mind, “Am I truly seeing this…?”

~~~~~~~~~

Skillful gloved hands re-routed circuits, disconnecting and reconnecting wiring, bypassing all alarm systems. Adept fingers moved with speed and efficiency closing access panels, swiftly moving to the next, looping the feed of all security cameras to mask their invading presence. “Cryo-storage labs are on the fourth floor.”

“Let’s move we haven’t much time,” rotating his left wrist, verifying his time display. “Ten minutes until the next guards sweep this level.”

The two black clad intruders swiftly climbed the wide stairs achieving the landing of the fourth level in the secure Pacific Cryo-storage building, taking only minutes to attain their target. Standing in front of the secured cryo lab doors, the thieves quickly placed an electronic device over the numbered security key pad, the mechanism searched for the correct numerical code, rapidly processing numbers, obtaining the correct sequence, enabling the intruders to gain access. Silently they opened the sealed glass doors with relative ease.

Gaining entry, they accessed the computer files. “The RGA growth agent is stored in cryo unit two.” Opening a metal case designed to convey the delicate substance, acquired from cryo-storage; they carefully loaded it into foam depressions which were cut into the floor of the transport case, cradling the valuable cargo.

The perpetrators used a different route to exit the building, endeavoring to eliminate all evidence of their presence. No alarms had been tripped, the invasion would not be discovered for some time. By then, the thieves would be out of the country.

<^>

A small stem of a green leafed vine lay in a glass receptacle. The circular dish sat atop a cluttered lab table, clustered around the dish a myriad of wires, chemicals and test tubes.

“Note it’s response to the stimuli.” A tiny electrode nudged the miniature vine. The current surged through the vegetation; causing the organism to move. It began growing, spreading its long green limbs. Slowly it stretched, expanding outward. “Now, I’ll add a drop of the RGA formula.” The vines growth increased rapidly, new shoot sprouted, adding to the expanding bulk as it spread itself across the scarred surface of the lab table.

Attired in a white lab coat an elderly scientist stood over the work surface, a small device grasped lightly in his steady hand, its size and shape resembling that of an ordinary pen. The apparatus produced a high pitched whine; its sound broke through the dry leaf murmur issuing from the plant. Passing the device over the vine; the high frequency vibrations caused the foliage to rapidly expand. “Watch as I adjust the tone above human perception.” Suddenly the plant halted appearing frozen, as if waiting.

“You will note each setting emits a different sound wave, conveying distinct instructions, this will manage its growth as well as its movements, directing and obeying whatever the controller commands.” The scientist advanced through each setting, changing the plants movements, directionally sprouting, expanding, and contracting as the human director desired.”

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, the wand controls are well-defined. I should have no difficulty with the device.” He pocketed the instrument. “I am to place the organism in the reactor room.”

The scientist nodded in the affirmative. “Yes, that is correct. Are all arrangements finalized?”

“Yes, I am to board the boat as a member of the crew.” He produced his official papers identifying him as a member of Seaview's crew, including orders to report to the N.I.M.R. for a briefing and orientation.

“Remember you are to stop Seaview at all costs from regaining control. Your orders are to destroy the submarine if necessary.”

“Yes, my mission is clear, I will not fail.” With a nod, he turned, walking out the door.

<^>

Commander Jonathan Christopher scanned the room as he entered, crammed on all four walls were computer work stations with large view screens. Along every surface sat some type of equipment displaying various forms of data analysis and retrieval. As he walked through the path of consoles Christopher spotted one tech intently staring at his telemetry read out.

“Commander Christopher." The tech briefly looked up sounding alarmed. "Sir, we’ve lost communications and navigational control with Satellite A4-1. We’re receiving no telemetry.”

The A4 Sat System was a sequence of low orbital navigation satellites, commissioned, built and jointly funded by the N.I.M.R., the US Navy and the U.S. shipping industry in collaboration with NASA.

“Increase the gain.” The commander ordered.

“I have sir, still no responds.” The tech continued to run his fingers over the dials in a futile attempt to regain control.

Along the row of computer stations sat additional technicians struggling, faced with resolving the same problem. As another tech reported. “Sir, I’m having the identical response and command issues associated with satellite A4-2, no acknowledgement, sir. We’ve lost all contact with the A4 system, no data, no telemetry, absolutely nothing.”

Within a matter of minutes the tracking monitors at each station showed individual satellites as a green dot. As each satellite went down the icon representing them changed to red. Commander Christopher found himself staring at the monitors while each symbol representing each satellite winked out. It resulted in a complete system wide failure, collapsing all navigational satellite links, and causing it all to go off line, no longer acknowledging the command and programming controls. As the Commander absorbed the situation he experienced a sudden and uncomfortable sinking feeling.

“The satellites all register as being in orbit, sir!” The tech exclaimed staring at his display in total disbelief. “But there’s nothing, no responds to any commands, our control of the array is simply gone.”

"Nothing's that simple, someone's responsible...but first we need to warn armed services and private shipping that all our navigation satellites are unreliable or offline completely.” The commander stated, an urgency weaved through his words.

He turned to address his aid standing to his right. “Lt. Kilborne, see to the notifications immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Kilborne nodded, turning quickly leaving the communications facility.

<^>

“Admiral, there is a VP call from Admiral Park. Will you take it?”

“Yes, thanks, Angie.” Nelson agreed. He reached across his desk to turn on the vid screen. The familiar face of Roy Park formed as the static cleared the screen.

“Roy, this is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I wish this was a social call, Harry. But we have a serious situation. The Navy has lost all communications with the A4 Navigational Satellites System.

“As I recall, that system had been developed here at the Institute in conjunction with NASA and the U.S. Navy. We purposely built in a sophisticated fail safe coding into the design.” Nelson said, knowing the system would be difficult to infiltrate.

“Harry, the satellites register on our instruments as being in orbit but will not respond to their programming, we aren’t receiving telemetry from any of the A4 satellites in orbit. The Navy’s assessment of the situation concluded that the satellites have been hijacked; an intermittent interference signal has been detected.

“Roy, I can only assume the hijackers are after something, crippling all naval and civilian operations to acquire it.”

"That's the consensus here as well. As a precaution we have suspended all non-essential operations. We've issued a high alert on all other navel and joint civilian activities. Minimizing the effect of any assault they may have planned against our military."

“Have all affected parties been notified who currently utilize the A4 Sat System.”

“Yes, the Navy has seen to the notifications,” Admiral Park confirmed. "Harry we are receiving numerous reports of cargo ships being attacked. The Navy, the coast guard and a few private shipping ventures have their hands full attempting to guard all remaining ships. Soon it will overwhelm our forces completely. We need to reestablish that signal ASAP."

“Understood Roy," Nelson acknowledged the crisis. "Has the Navy been able to track the interference signal?”

“Yes, we have picked up a brief intermittent signal, indicating a region in the southern Pacific Ocean. That’s were Seaview comes in, we need her to reestablish contact and track the signal. That’s why I’m calling. How soon can you have Seaview ready to sail? And, Harry, this is top priority.”

“I can have Seaview available by early tomorrow.”

“Good, I’m sending a Doctor Stephen Corson to you. I’m having him and his equipment flown out immediately on a DC 10 cargo transport plane. He has the best qualifications to assist with the search.”

“Yes, yes, Roy, I know Steve Corson; he was instrumental in writing the programming for the Satellite Systems. He's one of the best, an invaluable part of the team here at the Institute. Most recently he assisted in the upgrade to the primary programming for Seaview's main computer system.”

"Well he's been working on tracking the signal with a new computer algorithm, we believe he's on the right track, Harry. That's why I'm sending him to you. He should arrive in a few hours.”

“I’ll send my people to meet him and his equipment at the base. Transport it all to the Seaview.”

“Okay Harry, notify me when you sail. By that time, we may have more data concerning the situation. And Harry, I don’t have to tell you what would happen if the news services get their hands on this. They’re clambering for answers even now. They suspect there’s a deeper story. The only information coming out of the Navy’s liaisons office is that there’s a minor glitch in the system, that it’s being addressed, and should be resolved shortly.”

“You know, Roy, eventually the wire services will realize they have been diverted away from the true story. When that emerges there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Harry, I’m well aware of the consequences of our deception. That’s why we require the aid of you and Seaview, in hopes you can resolve the situation before it blows up in our face.”

“Understood, Roy. Contact you after we’re underway.” Nelson switched off, immediately toggling the intercom.

“Angie, get me Captain Crane.”

Moments later Angie buzzed him. “Captain Crane on line one, sir.”

“Lee, we have a situation. When can Seaview be ready to sail?”

“We’ll have to call in the crew. They still have two days to report from shore leave. What’s this about, Admiral?”

“The Navy has lost all communications with the A4 Satellite System; they believe the programming has been hijacked. An intermittent interference signal has been detected; its exact coordinates are unknown. The preliminary investigation points to a region in the southern Pacific.”

“We’ll start bringing in crew immediately, sir. We'll do our best but we may be shorthanded. O’Brian’s visiting his parents in Oregon and isn’t scheduled to arrive back until tomorrow afternoon.”

“How about Windsor as a replacement?” Nelson suggested.

“Okay, we’ll need a sonar operator, I’m considering Moran; he’s never sailed with us but I’ve understood from Kowalski that he’s a skilled technician.

“That’ll be fine, Lee. We’ll need guest quarters for Dr. Corson, project coordinator for the A4 system. Admiral Park is sending him out today on a transport plane. He was invaluable in the design and programming of the system.”

“Yes, sir we should be ready to sail at oh nine hundred tomorrow morning.”

“I'll see you aboard. Thanks, Lee.”

<^>

From his desk, Captain Lee Crane called through the intercom. “Peggy, get me Chip Morton. Try his apartment first. I need to locate him as soon as possible.” He spoke as he rushed around his office gathering all necessary paper work from his desk, preparing to board Seaview. “Tell him to report to Seaview immediately.”

“Yes, Captain.” Peggy proceeded to dial. She landed this temp job just recently, filling in for Crane’s regular assistant, who happened to be out on maternity leave. She quietly hoped this would become a permanent assignment. Lee had turned out to be a great boss and not too hard on the eyes.

<^>

SSRN Seaview sat quietly berthed in her subterranean home below the N.I.M.R., Commander Lee Crane, Captain of the famous submarine Seaview, stepped lithely down the steel ladder. He descended from the main hatch into the semi darkness of the now quiet and deserted control room. The area illuminated only by the standby lighting which flooded onto the vacant consoles. A handful of maintenance crew remained on board, but Crane knew before long the silence would be ruptured by the bustle of crew preparing Seaview to sail. He could envision the men moving about the control deck. Their fast paced footsteps accompanied by the familiar and comforting background hum of Seaview’s engines. All combined with the soft ping created by sonar, filling the air with an atmosphere of excitement.

The extensive refits had been completed well ahead of schedule. The upgrades on the computer were finished and each station lining the command deck had been completely overhauled. In addition to the many improvements, a newly enhanced science station sat to the ready. It alone would prove invaluable in light of the upcoming mission. ‘She feels like a new ship, a waking beast, a titan straining at her leash,’ Lee thought. Gingerly, he trailed an elegant hand over the cool periscope rail taking pleasure in being at the center of Seaview’s heart.

“Lee,” Chip Morton called as he dropped down to the last rung of the metal ladder, “I’m not interrupting am I?” saying it with a broad smile. But the Captain continued his scrutiny of the clipboard, and the corresponding pile of notes set out on the plot table. So engrossed was he in his paper work he barely noticed the Exec’s presence in the ship.

Lee looked up sharply. “Oh, Chip. No, please. Just reviewing the pre-sailing routine.” He grinned, continuing after a short pause, “Mission schedule, crew, manifests…,”pointing to the separated stacks of paper work set out on the surface of the chart table.

“What’s up? Peggy tells me we have a mission, top priority.”

“Do you recall the A4 Sat System?”

“Yeah, they developed that system here at the Institute.”

“Well, the system’s been infiltrated; ground control lost all telemetry earlier today. All the satellites are offline, not responding to command and control.”

Morton whistled with a roll of his eyes. “How’d they breached the programming? As I understand they had a sophisticated programming design in order to eliminate that possibility.”

“Someone managed to circumvent all the safeguards. We’ve been retained by the Navy to track the intermittent signal, find and regain control of the Sat System. The crew’s being called back now.”

“With the Navy officially involved, don't you mean ordered?" Chip glared pointedly at Crane.

Crane's only reply was to angle his pencil at the plot table and the work ahead. "Orders or not we have plenty of work ahead of us."

"Well, in that case we’d better get started. It’s going to be a long night.” Morton held out a hand, accepting a portion of Cranes notes. “I’ll start by checking control room systems.”

"All available crew are being called in, we should have additional help soon. Windsor and Moran are replacing O'Brien and Patterson who are not available. They're just too far out to be back in time to sail with us at oh nine hundred."

"Aye, Aye, Skipper, always happy to help," grasping his clip board tightly in his hands, Morton issued a sloppy salute, and moved off along the bulkhead to assess each station and its instruments for its readiness.

<^>

Early the following day, Crane and Morton, plus the remainder of senior and junior officers gathered in Seaview’s observation nose for a briefing.

“We’ll be getting underway at oh nine hundred after a final inspection of all ships systems and the arrival of Admiral Nelson and our guest, Doctor Corson. Before we continue arrangements for our departure.” Crane paused. “As you are aware, we are short-handed for this mission. Lieutenant Dave Windsor is replacing Lt. O’Brian in engineering.” Lieutenant Dave Windsor a tallish youthful man, had deep blue eyes, framing his tanned face, a head of cropped sandy blond hair. Windsor anxiously watched Crane, he exhibited a quiet shyness inherent in the majority of young officers new to Seaview. At Crane's nod he stepped forward. “Welcome aboard, Mister Windsor, and as I see from the duty schedule you are officer of the deck for the third watch.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” Windsor nervously retreated, eager to blend in with the assembled officers crowding Seaview's nose.

“In addition to the Lieutenant, rating Greg Moran will be joining us-he is filling in for Patterson at sonar. We also have a guest coming on board, a Doctor Stephen Corson he was the original project coordinator for the A4 Sat System. Any questions.” Crane paused a few seconds for a response from his command staff, receiving no queries. “No, very well carry on with all preparations.”

With the dismissal of the collective officers, Crane directed his attention to accommodations for their guest.

“Chief, I need to speak with you a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want guest cabin A-C readied for Doctor Corson. When the Doctor and his equipment are aboard see that it is set up in the missile room.”

“Aye, Sir, I’ll see to it right away, anything else, sir?”

“Yes, get me a report on the progress and completion time for Doctor Corson’s frequency emitter nodes being installed on the hull.”

“Aye sir, I’ll get right on it.”

<^>

Seaview’s interior and exterior was a rush with working crew, a swarm of activity; a watcher looked for his opportunity. Slowly surveying the area studying the expanse of the control room, he checked each station to see if anyone observed him. The officers and crew on deck were caught up with preparations, checking all stations and departments, ensuring the vessels readiness for departure. Satisfied, he silently stepped through the control decks green curtained aft hatch, heading directly for the reactor room. Hopefully in the controlled chaos, he could step in, place the vine, and step out without notice. Treading lightly over the threshold of the hatch he perceived crew members fully occupied with the task of warming up the reactor, engrossed in checking and rechecking the delicate process. Men continuously arrived and departed the area. No one took notice of his entry to the compartment. He walked with purpose to the far bulkhead. Reaching the ventilation shaft, unsealing it, he placed a single green leaf on the base of the metal tubing. Checking his surroundings for onlookers, not finding any, he produced a small device from his pocket aiming it directly at the vegetation; it emitted a frequency far above human acuity. Taking only seconds to activate the organism, he exited blending in with passing crew, quietly reappearing in the control room, never having been missed. ‘Mission accomplished.’ He thought, as he returned to his assigned duties.

<^>

Captain Lee Crane stood over the plot table working out their projected course for the upcoming mission.

“Captain, this is the officer of the deck, Admiral Nelson and Dr. Corson are coming aboard.”

Crane picked up the nearest mic. “Very well.”

Hearing feet falling on the ladder from the main hatch, he turned to see Nelson and Doctor Corson as the Admiral stepped past the bottom rung, landing onto the control deck. He advanced towards the two men.

“Lee, I think you know Doctor Corson from the A4 project at the Institute.”

Lee Crane approached with a smile and an outstretched hand, “Good to see you again Steve, how have you been?”

Corson followed the Admiral. He had dark hair and black rimmed glasses, all contributing to the air of a quiet intellectual. He firmly grasped Cranes outstretched hand. “You, too, Lee, feel better when we get this satellite business cleared up.”

“We all will,” exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I hear your working for satellite tracking these days?” Lee knew Steve from his work on Seaview and the various consulting projects for the N.I.M.R.; he had been the lead programmer for the A4 Satellite Navigation System. Corson knew that system like the back of his hand. If anyone could turn the circumstances around, it would be Corson and Admiral Nelson.

“Yes, well, Lee, she’s looking good. You and the Admiral have taken great care of her.” Stephen Corson had been one of the programmers to upgrade Seaview's primary computer system. He had spent many hours aboard Seaview during the upgrade, and knew Seaview’s layout and design almost as well as her designer, Harriman Nelson. He was a great asset to have aboard.

"Steve let's get you squared away. Your equipment is being brought aboard so I'll have you shown to a guest cabin. If you need anything just ask Kowalski."

"Thanks, Lee."

“Kowalski.” Crane summoned.

“Aye sir.”

“Ski, please show the Doctor to his quarters and be sure his gear is safely stowed aboard.”

“Sure thing, Skipper. Doctor, if you’ll follow me.”

Along the bulkhead of the control room, Moran, the new sonar tech asked Riley. "Who's this Doc anyway?”

Riley answered, the rating stood over the radar station inspecting its readiness." He worked with the Admiral at the Institute developing the Sat Systems, a big shot programmer. His equipment’s in crates, spread all over the missile room.”

Before Corson ascended the stairs Nelson approached. “When your squared away, Steve, I’ll meet you in my lab. We'll be getting under way shortly.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” As he followed close behind Kowalski who stepped to the stairs.

“Lee, how are preparations coming?”

“Admiral, all parties are aboard, reports from all department show green, all stations manned and ready. All the installations on our exterior are complete. All cargo loaded.” Crane gave Nelson one of his dazzling smiles as if to say he was proud of his crew and Seaview for pulling it all together with such short notice. Crane handed Nelson his clip board.

The Admiral scanned its content, “In that case, Captain, lets get underway.” Nelson walked the short distance to the observation nose to watch the proceedings. He never tired of seeing his silver grey lady leave home port heading out to the open sea.

Chip Morton approached the Captain standing by the chart table. “Mister Morton, prepare to get underway, set a sea detail.”

Morton lifted the mic relaying the orders. “I want a special sea detail to lay up top side, single up all lines fore and aft, secure all hatches, standby to answer bells.” The Exec’s orders echoed through the control room.

“All boards show green, Captain.”

“Very well, take her out.”

Seaview cut through the glassy blue green waters of the Pacific, riding along its surface, swirls of lather thrust against her transparent nose. Trailing behind in Seaview’s wake, a ribbon of white frothy foam, the bright morning sun glinting off her silver grey hull, bow aimed towards the open sea.

“Chip, set a heading for these coordinates as soon as we clear the harbor.”

“Aye, sir.”

<^>

Below in the large space of the missile room the noise level was high, metal containers scraped against metal decks, the voices of hard working men rose above the constant din and shuffle of crates. Crewmen continued to strain under the weight of the huge pieces of radio equipment.

While surveying the area, Sharkey expertly directed the controlled chaos, when the Chief spotted Kowalski. “Okay, get moving and be careful with this equipment!” Chief Francis Sharkey bellowed as the crewmen shifted the large electrical consoles, guiding everything into position at the direction of Dr. Stephen Corson, “Easy now…place it gently beside the other panels.”

Corson indicated the exact position where the apparatus needed to be placed. The crew slid each disconnected section onto the steel deck, arranging them into the correct order.

Kowalski stretched his back asking. “Doctor, there is one more panel to be placed. What do you want us to do with all the cabling?”

“Just place it over by the couplings extending from the interior bulkhead.” Behind Corson, hung a group of electrical conduits protruding from the bulkhead matching the connections on the large radio and computer consoles that had been just set into place in the center of the missile room deck.

“Doctor, this sure is a lot of equipment to track one signal.”

“Well with unreliable satellites to help we need a different method of tracking the frequency. With the nodes on the exterior of Seaview, this system can do just that.”

With the placement of the last console, the crew exited the missile room. Dr. Corson set to work laying out the many cables, connecting the conduits needed to bring the instrument panels to life, finishing the process, Corson knelt behind each instrument panel matching each connection to the sensor trunk lines protruding from the bulkhead connecting the control panels to the sensor nodes.

Lee Crane walked through the busy corridors of Seaview heading to the missile room to check on the progress of Dr. Corson’s equipment. Entering the hatch he asked, “Doctor, did all your equipment come aboard unharmed?”

“Yes, everything tests out okay; your crew did a fine job. I was just about to start it up.” Moving to pick up a head set, Corson toggled up numerous switches, turned dials all the while holding the headset to one ear listening for the familiar sound, the intermittent signal.

With a broad smile, Crane inquired, “So, Steve how does all this work? If we can’t triangulate the signal how do we establish a position?” as he gestured toward the gathered interconnected devices set out on the steel floor.

“Well, with the help from the nodes placed on the hull, this equipment’s been modified to pick up and track the frequency and band width of the intermittent signal. The nodes gather the fragmented waves; the indicators are run through a computer algorithm. The signals are sifted and optimized for source and direction. The closer we are the more information we aggregate, ultimately it will give us exact coordinates.”

“When can it be ready?” Crane was anxious to get on with the mission.

“It’s functional now. As soon as I have enough information for a course adjustment, I’ll let you know.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything I’ll have a crewmen stationed outside the hatch.”

Chief Sharkey stepped up to the Captain. “I’ll get someone on it right away, Captain.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be in the control room if I'm needed. Carry on, Chief.”

<^>

Nelson sat perched at one of the work benches in his lab, feet tucked under his seat; they rested

against the rungs of the metal stool. He paged through his notes as regards to the construction and programming of the A4 Satellite System, hoping to find a way to retake the system remotely.

Faintly aware of a soft but unfamiliar noise within the lab, Nelson lifted his head scanning the area. He heard the sound again, and found no identifiable source. For lack of a better description, its whisper reminded him of a subtle breeze rustling through the leaves of a tree. Trying without success to discern its location, the hairs on his neck suddenly began to rise but by that time the warning had come too late.

Abruptly his upper body was caught from behind and dragged downward towards the deck. He felt a sharp pain lance through the base of his skull.

Deep within the recesses of Nelson’s mind colors swirled around him; confusion filled his thoughts, echoes of sound drifted in the intensely streaked darkness. Aware of a distinct presence, his eyesight blurred. Hampered along by the gloom that encircled him, he called out into the black void. “Where am I, what is this place?” His appeal thrown out to the abyss. He received no intelligible reply, instead he heard a jumble of odd sounds.

“Can you understand me? I know someone is here.” His eyes continued to search the depths for a form or figure connected to the presence; it hovered just beyond his reach. The sounds around him grew louder, although the words, if that’s what they were, continued to be incomprehensible. He must find a way to communicate.

A wave of sound washed over him, like a chilled wind, a shadow searching in the night. In its wake, he caught the thread of a voice, out of which two distinct words emerged, “Help me!”

“Who are you? "he waited. Then he formed another question."... how can I help you?”

Again he heard. “Help me…..”

Crane stood in the control room over by the navigation table, he slid the dividers across the charts with proficient ease.

“Captain, we are picking up a high frequency sound wave coming from within the ship,” Sparks announced, his clear voice grabbed Crane’s attention; he glanced up at the Captain’s approach.

“Are you sure it’s within the ship.”

“Yes, sir, positive.” Disturbed by the implications, “Captain, I can’t pinpoint the location but it’s definitely coming from within the sub.”

“Captain, it stopped!” Sparks stated abruptly, surprised as it suddenly cut out.

"Sparks, could it have come from the equipment in the missile room?"

"No, Skipper. I've compensated for the variance. This was a different source, sir." The radio operator replied.

“Chief, brake out that new detection gear we brought aboard. Have a detail station the equipment throughout the ship. If that signal appears again we may be able to determine its source.”

“Aye, Skipper." Sharkey tagged the nearest rating. "Moran help me with this gear." The Chief headed aft with the rating in tow.

"Aye, Chief." As he walk towards Sharkey, another crew member immediately taking his place.

Morton walked up to Crane who stood by the radio shack reading the printout the radio officer had handed him. “Problem, Lee.”

Crane rubbed at his tired eyes looking up at Morton. “Chip, we had a high frequency burst emanating from inside the ship, but it cut out before we could acquire a fix. I have the Chief setting up to triangulate if it happens again.”

"Lee, what are you thinking?" Looking pointedly at Crane.

"Not sure, Chip...it could be the equipment in the missile room interfering with communications. How I don't know...Sparks has adjusted for the device." Crane continued to grasp the paper feed while he slowly walked back into the control room. Turning. “Chip, you take the con, I’m going to find the Admiral and inform him of the situation.”

"Aye, sir." Chip Morton shifting aside as Lee moved to the stairs, his feet took the treads with swift accustomed precision.

Lee Crane climbed the spiral stair to the upper deck, proceeded down the corridor, he stopped at the Admiral's lab door. He knocked once, then again with no reply. His first thought, Nelson was so engrossed in one of his projects he didn’t hear the knock; Crane gingerly slid the door open. “Admiral?” he called out. For just a brief moment Lee's peripheral vision caught a flicker, a featureless shadow, crossing over the ventilation duct. The shade blended into the hue of the darkened conduit as his head turned to trace the apparition. 'Nothing there.' Quickly dismissed it as a play of light, but regardless of his thoughts, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

He continued around the work table, threading his way through the destruction in the lab. He ignored the crunch of broken glass beneath his shoes, deftly avoiding the toppled equipment littering the deck. His only thoughts were focused on his goal, reaching Harriman Nelson. The sight of the Admiral lying limp and unconscious caused another shutter to course through him. Nelson’s body lay abandoned among the rubble scattered across the deck. Crane took in Nelson's torn and tattered clothes, the pale white flesh rent with deep slashes and puncture wounds. His eyes open, unfocused, he appeared sightless, not registering his surroundings. The intense sea blue irises were subdued by the expanded pupils revealing endless black pools. Dark red blood trickled down his upper lip, originating from his left nostril. His skin held a thin sheen of sweat.

Crane’s quick hands clawed the wall for the mic, raising it, “Crane to sickbay. Doc, come to the Admiral’s lab on the double, emergency!” To Crane it was a devastating sight, seeing Nelson in such a state, unconscious, eyes open. He scarcely recognized the familiar form sprawled unconscious on the steel deck. Nelson hardly resembled the vital scientist, the man Crane knew as a friend.

“Aye, Skipper, on my way.” Jamieson reply promptly.

Crane stooped down by the stricken man. “Admiral, can you hear me!” Lee’s voice sounded desperate, as he tried to revive Nelson.

The Admiral's mind remained trapped in the blackened void, never aware of Crane's presence.

Corson arrived before Jamieson. “Lee, what on earth… is he all right?” What happened in here?"

Corson scanned the debris scattered over the deck. He bent to retrieve a small object.

"What is that?" Crane asked, drawn to the scientists hand.

"Don’t know some type of vegetation, there are pieces all over the lab floor.” Crane motioned.

"Concentrated around the Admiral..." Crane mumbled to himself.

"It looks like, for want of a better description, English Ivy, but what’s it doing here.” Corson said incredulously.

“Skipper?” Doc arrived on Corson’s heels, calling out from the open hatch.

“Over here, Doc, it’s the Admiral .” Lee replied. Jamieson could hear the stress carried in Crane’s tone.

Jamieson’s first glance at Nelson, betrayed shock. “What happened here, Captain?” While he spoke, Doc proceeded to check the Admiral’s vital signs, frowning at the damage to his body, the bloody scored flesh below the torn uniform shirt.

"I found him this way, tried to bring him around. It’s as if he’s seeing through me.” Fighting the turmoil within at the sight of Nelson's condition, ‘I need to pull it together - can’t give into my emotion's not here, not now. I have a job to do, a mission to complete, the ship and crew need my undivided attention.’

Frank, Jamieson’s corpsmen, who had trailed the Doctor into the lab, stood by assisting, handing over instruments. “Let’s get a stretcher in here, get him moved to sickbay, carefully.”

Before long the Admiral had been loaded on to a stretcher. The Captain watched Nelson’s still figure being moved to sickbay. A disturbing thought crossed Crane’s mind. He had assumed an outside force would attempt to halt their efforts to trace the signal, find its source and regain control of the programming, it was evident the attack had come from within the boat, starting with Nelson.

From the corridor, a shadow stepped back out of sight. He had killed before, tried to kill Nelson today, but it had been interrupted by Crane. A totally unsuccessful attempt. He would have to try again, do it properly to finish the job.

Chief Sharkey, the last to respond entered the lab. Out in the passageway, Sharkey having witnessed the Admiral being carried out, worriedly hovered near by, hoping to speak with Crane and expecting instructions from a visibly shaken Captain. “Chief, I want this area sealed off, and an investigation conducted to exactly what happened here. Put a detail together, use Anderson, have them go through the entire lab. Remember no one in or out without authorization.”

“Aye, sir, I’ll get right on it...Skipper, do you think the Admiral will be okay?" The Chief asked with uncertainty. “He looked pretty bad.” Alarm patently showed on his face, always concerned for his friend. Sharkey and Nelson went back many years, serving together in the old Navy.

“I…I really don’t know.” Crane hesitated; he didn’t know and he was as worried as the Chief over Nelson's condition. “I’m going to check on him now; when I have more information, I’ll inform you and the crew.”

“Aye, sir.”

“What I need from you right now is to seal this room until a detail can go over it, determine what exactly happened here. I want security Chief Anderson, on this now, have him assemble a team to investigate."

“Aye, Skipper, right away.”

As Crane followed the Admiral to sickbay, his thoughts rushed. Someone aboard had their own agenda, that was abundantly clear, completely contrary to Seaview’s. Apparently they’d kill to achieve that goal. Regardless of who or what committed this attack, the boat's security needed to be tightened.

<^>

The stark glare of the overhead florescent tubes, serving to illuminate Nelson’s body, they cast a harsh light over his still form. The sharp glow magnified his pale ashen complexion, enhancing the pools of perspiration that covered his skin.

Crane briefly hesitated at the hatchway. He found Jamieson hovering over an unconscious Harriman Nelson. “Doc, how is he?” Crane’s tone abrupt, strained, driven by his underlining stress.

“Well, he’s stable.” Jamieson’s demeanor betrayed the seriousness of the

situation. “He’s a mass of small wounds. I did find one curious puncture wound at the base of his skull, however, I am at a loss to explain any of it.

“We all are, Doc.” Crane agreed. “But he’s still unconscious?” Crane realized he sounded unreasonable, even as the words passed his lips.

Jamieson turned surprised by the apparent criticism coming from the Captain. His annoyance rapidly disappeared, as he noticed the oddly variegated green vegetation clutched between the Captain's fingertips. “What is it you have there?”

Crane absentmindedly rubbed the piece of leafy debris. “We found these scattered all over the deck. Doctor Corson compared it to English Ivy.”

“Could it be from a study the Admiral was conducting?” Doc questioned, in the vain hope of discovery.

“Not that I’m aware of…nothing he’s shared with me.”

“I’ll admit finding ivy leaves onboard a sub is unusual.” Doc paused, furrowing his dark brows.

"It may have no bearing on the Admiral’s immediate condition. Regardless, Captain, I’ll do several body scans, perhaps that will yield a few answers.” Not sounding the least bit hopeful, he knew he had a mystery on his hands. “I’ll need to do a full work up before I can broach any determination on the Admiral's condition.”

Nelson began to stir while they spoke; he began drifting his way back up through to consciousness. At first only a breath escaped, rousing with a start. Making a strangling sound deep within his throat, his eyes began to water, launching him into a fit of coughing. Followed immediately by wheezing as he drew his first deep breath, gasping from the effort. His mind partially conscious unaware of his surroundings, he continued to dwell in streaked darkness. He vaguely felt the throb of a headache that traveled down his neck into his shoulders. Nelson’s voice, sounded as a whisper. “Get out of my mind!” his head snapped from side to side, arms thrown out, he abruptly bolted upright. At that moment he began to register his surroundings, recognizing the familiar grey bulkheads of Seaview’s sickbay.

Jamieson and Crane moved quickly to his side. Doc eased Nelson back onto the gurney. “Admiral, you're all right, you're safe, just relax, that’s it, lay back.”

“What...um... happened?” Breathing came with difficulty. In a final moment of fracture, his ability to draw breath and speak more clearly began to return, although his voice retained a slight raw quality. “I was in my lab.” He tried to rise.

“Not so fast.” Strong hands gently held him in place. “How are you feeling?”

Sliding back onto the pillow, Nelson suddenly realized he could no longer recall with any clarity, what had transpired. He tried with no avail. Vague shadows clouded his memories. All the images would not sharpen, unable to bring anything into focus.

"I..I don’t know." Feeling the sweat on his brow. "Someone attacked me from behind.” pausing, he sighed. “Have a devil of a headache.” Thinking further on the matter… “Weak.” His whole body ached, his pulse pounded like a hammer inside his head, causing his vision to blur, feeling decidedly drained. He lifted one trembling hand to his head, for the first time seeing his scored flesh. “What happened to me?”

The Captain deftly cut in, “That’s what we’d all like to know. Admiral, do you remember anything?”

“Lee?” Nelson slowly focused on a concerned Lee Crane, seeing his face plainly for the first time. The Captain stood anxiously beside Jamieson, his form edged by the grey walls of sickbay.

“Yes, Admiral.” stepping closer.

“I remember working in the lab, someone..." A trickle of hysterical laughter burst from his lips, a harsh sound with not the slightest hint of humor, "...or something, grabbed me from behind, pulling me down to the deck. I experience an indescribable pain in my head, it’s all blank from there, must have blacked out and I woke up here.”

Jamieson pointedly asked. “You shouted, 'get out of my mind,' what was in your mind?”

“Doc I really don't know.” A fragment of an image flashed through his thoughts. “Swirling colors...darkness and what seemed to be a presence right out of reach.” The pieces started fading away moving beyond his ability to hold onto them, becoming indistinct. “I must have imagined it all...after...I blacked out, a disturbing sensation to say the least.”

Lee drew closer. “Admiral, after we removed you from the lab I had it secured. It’s a disaster in there. No one’s to enter pending further investigation, nothing’s been touched. The security chief is gathering a team together to inspect the entire compartment.”

“Good, that’s fine, Lee, but I want to be there when they start in.” As he attempted to rise anew, Jamieson firmly restrained the determined Admiral yet again. “You’re not going anywhere. I have a few dozen tests I want to run. I think a complete workup is in order.”

Knowing he didn’t stand a chance, seeing the resolve in Jamieson’s behavior, “Okay Doctor, I guess I’m all yours. And, Lee, about the lab, I want to enter with the first investigation team.”

“Yes, sir.” Turning to address Jamieson. “And Doc, I expect a full report.”

<^>

Nelson cut the VP screen and the image of Admiral Park winked out, severing the connection.

“Captain Crane.” Nelson called through Seaview’s comm system.

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Lee, come to my quarters at your earliest convenience.”

“On my way.” Glancing at the Exec, “Chip, take the con, I’ll be with the Admiral.”

Nelson didn’t have a long wait. Within moments a rap sounded at his door. He straightened and looked up. “Come,” the Admiral replied. The door slid partially open as Lee Crane stood shadowed by the door frame. “Admiral, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Lee, come in, sit down.” Gesturing toward the chair opposite his desk.

Instead of the chair, Lee perched himself on the end of Nelson's desk. “Thanks.” He picked up a loose pencil as he began to roll it in between his palms, leaning slightly forward while Nelson initiated the conversation. "I've spoken to Admiral Park again."

Nelson remained seated at his desk amid numerous buff color folders, a half-eaten sandwich and a cold cup of coffee. “He has additional information; the Navy has captured a crew from one of the attacking ships. Between the information they extracted from one of the crew members and the intel they’ve been gathering, plus new data acquired from sources around the world. The Navy has attempted to sort through information from disinformation and it's been difficult. But they believe there’s a group based in the mountains of Peru referred to as Ex Luce Spirituali In Societate, translation, The Fellowship of the Spiritual Light, a fanatical religious fringe group, their mission is to acquire and destroy technology. Our sources tell us they are most likely responsible for the hijacking of the Satellite System, quite possibly the attempt on my life. They'll use any means at their disposal to carry out their objectives. We need to tighten security on all major ships systems, everyone is suspect at this point. It seems, Lee...we have a spy aboard.”

“Admiral, at the very least I need to inform Chip.” Crane took on an incredulous expression.

“And Sharkey, Lee, have him look for suspicious activity among the crew. No one else. Inform the crew we are beefing up security on key ships systems. We don’t know who is behind this, anyone could be responsible. In the end it may become necessary to remove that installation, permanently putting an end to the entire organization.”

“It’s a coward’s way of fighting a war.” Crane confirmed his feelings.

“I agree, it’s terrorism all right. I have the nagging impression there's something more.” Nelson began to rise from his desk. “Lee, there is more here than meets the eye…” His words trailed off as a surge of dizziness took him, followed closely by nausea. The sensation washed over him as though it were a turbulent wave. He place one trembling hand on his desk the other to his temple rubbing across his forehead hard, as if to wipe away the uncomfortable sensation. "Where'd that come from?"

“Admiral, are you all right?” Suddenly Lee stood dropping the writing instrument he had been toying with. He reached out to grip Nelson’s arm, propelling the man back towards the sturdy desk chair. Nelson dropped gratefully into the seat, his knees having gone weak and unsteady.

“I’m fine, Lee, don’t fuss.” Drawing in a deep breath, he had to admit at least to himself, he hadn’t been feeling well at all in the wake of the bizarre attack in his lab. He felt an exhaustion that seemed to have no let up. Maybe the attack shocked his system more than initially thought. “It’s the aftereffects of the lab incident; I tell you, stop worrying we have work to do.”

“I think I should call Jamieson, maybe he missed something.”

Nelson snapped cutting Crane off, his eyes, flashing ice blue. “It’s not necessary, it’s just stress, leave it be.”

“But you’re not looking well at all.” Lee's concern shone in his troubled eyes.

“My appearance is irrelevant.” His impatience overflowed, hoping that his sharp tone would settle the matter. Mentally he immediately castigated himself for his violent reaction to Lee’s concern. He was grateful for Lee’s strength, his determination, being unaware he would need to draw on that very force in order to endure what was to come.

“Yes, sir.” Crane favored Nelson with a dark surveying stare, their eyes locked for a brief span before the Captain broke the contact. "I'm headed back to the control room, sir." Exasperation, frustration and concern scattered his thoughts, pushing it all away, he gradually turned, walking out the door, vanishing into the dim corridor. By no means did Crane feel reassured, actually rather the reverse being closer to the truth. Commanding officer or not, it wouldn’t stand in his way of their friendship or the Admirals health; Lee couldn’t dismiss this episode as trivial. It would require a weathered eye, on Crane's part, with close scrutiny directed to the Admiral's physical condition. Lee made a mental note to speak with Jamieson at his first opportunity.

With Lee’s departure, the Admiral’s self-control weakened, no longer capable of maintaining the façade of feigned normality. Stubbornly, but cautiously he contended to rise. Shaky hands clutched the corner of his desk, he felt quite possibly his legs would desert him, threatening not to work correctly; he utilized the contours of the furniture as additional support in order to gain the head adjoining his cabin. Entering the small facility heaving what little remained in his stomach into the basin, he stood hunched over even though nothing more came forth. Straightening his back he realized he felt drained and depleted. Nelson reached turning on the cold water, splashing a bit on his face. Lifting one cupped hand, he rinsed his mouth. Grabbing a towel wiping his face, he waited for his vision to clear and the throb in his head to ratchet down a bit. Finding strength he previously was unaware of, he steeled himself. ‘I can’t hide this for long,’ he thought.

Suddenly a peculiar rush surged through him, his thoughts in a whirl. Finally his thoughts centered on the presence, the other; it lingered in his mind. Even now it looked back at him from the void, as if an undefined source sought communication on a subconscious level. Nelson understood, recognized the apparition from the blackness. It left his senses dissembled, causing his thoughts to shatter, the shards slipping through his hands, leaving him empty with nothing solid. ‘This is ridiculous it had been an unconscious dilution.’ He chided himself, but his mind persistently raced, chasing down each image of how he felt in that barren dark wasteland. To contemplate its reality even with an open mind stretched the imagination, to say the least. Adjusting his shirt he looked in the mirror, arranging his uniform. He closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a cleansing breath. To Nelson it frequently felt as though the burdens of the world rested on his shoulders. ‘That’s quite enough, pull yourself together.’ He set his jaw firmly, exiting his cabin preparing himself to inspect the damage done to his currently sealed off lab.

From the hatchway Nelson took a few hesitant steps inside; he entered his lab accompanied by the security team. The tang of green sap struck him as odd, it didn't belong. Scattered haphazardly on the deck among the shattered glass and toppled equipment, he spotted additional leafy debris. On the bench surface, his eyes caught the faint glisten of sticky green sap that ran along its sides, as if vegetation had been scraped across the squared edges. Into a dish he gathered a portion of the greenery, then taking a sample of the tacky substance from the bench, he set it all aside for later.

Further investigation had produced no relevant clues into the attack, leaving him wanting for answers.

“Help me put this equipment back into place.” He motioned to a member of the security team. “Get a detail in here to clear up the remainder of this mess.”

“Yes sir.”

Crane came through the door minutes later. “Admiral, did you find any more clues into our mysterious intruder?”

"No… unfortunately not." Nelson gave the impression of being distracted. “Lee, it seems green sap and leaves are all we have to go on at the moment.” Sounding a bit disgusted, “I’m just about to take a closer look at what evidence we do have,” Nelson produced a dish of green variegated leaves and a slide smeared with tacky green sap. “As soon as I have the electron microscope set up, I'll start my investigation.” Glancing up at Crane, “anything new on your end?”

“Nothing to report, our heading and course hasn’t changed; Doctor Corson informs me he will have a course correction shortly.” Crane held onto his earlier formality, hiding his concern.

“That’s fine, Lee. I’ll be here in my lab for the remainder of the day analyzing these samples.”

Several crewmen arrived with cleaning implements. Nelson addressed the men, virtually dismissing Crane.

“I’ll be in the control room, Admiral.”

Nelson waved a hand in acknowledgement as he set the men to their tasks. “Fine, Lee.”

With the clean up well in hand Nelson set about warming up the electron microscope to continue his analysis.

<^>

Doctor Corson stood straightening, stretching his tired back muscles. He picked up the nearby mic. “Corson to control room.”

“Crane here, what is it Doctor?”

“Captain, I’ve picked up various weak signals. I’ve isolated one recurrent indicator, stronger than the others.”

“Is it a match to the signal heard earlier from the satellite tracking center?”

“Yes, it’s the same organized frequency of patterns we heard before; it’s faint but steady, definitely man made.”

“Do you have coordinates?”

“Not yet discernible, the signal continues to be intermittent, fading from weak to strong and back again. It’s undoubtedly the original directional fix. However, I do have a course correction, continuing on our southern Pacific path, most likely located on the sea bed. I’ll need to gather more information to get a more accurate fix but we are getting close. Sending new coordinates to Seaview's computer now.”

“Can you determine if the signal stationary, Doctor?”

“I believe so, but it’s hard to pin down, it's bouncing off the topography from the ocean bottom. I’ll know more in a few hours.”

“Thank you Doctor, inform me when you’ve established new coordinates.”

“Will do.”

Chip Morton crossed to the computer terminal, tearing the paper off the feed and handing it over to the Captain. Crane used the pencil that sat on top of the table, leaning over, he marked their adjusted course, carefully rechecking the information from the computer read out.

Pointing to the indicators on the charts, “Very well Chip, take her down to ninety feet, adjust course and speed.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Helm, new heading, come to zero nine eight degrees.”

“Aye, sir zero nine eight degrees.”

“Prepare to dive.” As the orders were given, the control deck jumped into action. Crane surveyed his crew with respect, as his orders were passed, the instructions resounded through the command deck. Every individual coming together to work as one entity towards one goal, transforming Seaview into that living titan, now freed from her leash.

“Make it nine zero feet.”

“Clear the deck, close all hatches.” The slam of the deck hatch resonated through the ship.

“Aye, nine zero feet, sir.”

“Decks clear,” Morton announced. Two sharp bursts of the klaxon sounded, cutting through the quiet atmosphere of the command deck, alerting the boats crew of the approaching dive.

“Dive, dive, all dive.” Morton’s voice commanded.

Seaview inclined down, her hull groaned faintly as she achieved depth.

“Board all green.”

“Pressure in boat.” A rating sang out as the barometer needle moved into position.

While dive orders repeated throughout the interior of Seaview, up above the great ship bathed in the gleam of the bright yellow sun, she silently dropped below the choppy white caps of the blue ocean waves.

“Very well. Up periscope.” Crane ascended the center island as a crewman pressed the controls raising the device at the islands center; the skipper lowered the grips, peering through, smoothly turning 360 degrees, “Deck’s awash, bows under, sterns gone.” Flipping up the grips he turned dropping to the main deck. “Down scope.” In moments of the command, the gleaming metal of the periscope pole retracted into the steel deck as the Captain stepped free of the center island.

Turning again to Morton. “Chip, all ahead two thirds.”

“Aye, aye, all ahead two thirds.”

“Secure flooding.”

“Final trim, Captain, depth nine zero feet, two thirds speed.”

The clatter of feet descending the spiral stairs announced Nelson’s entry to the control room.

Nelson, Crane, Morton and Sharkey clustered around the plot table, Morton and Sharkey displayed a questioning look, hearing the recent exchange between the Skipper and Dr. Corson.

“Admiral, do we have a plan, when we find the source of the signal?” Morton questioned.

“I've already relayed this information to the Captain, I will repeat it for your benefit. I’ve received new information from Admiral Park; we may have more to worry about then just one installation. Reliable sources say the underwater installation is only part of the whole; we may be forced to destroy a land based structure as well. The intelligence community is saying there is a suspicious structure in a region of Peru; it coincides with our projected course. We’ll have navel support to handle the second target.”

Morton furtively inclined his blond head towards his superiors; he queried. “Will we be involved with land base operation?”

“Don’t believe so. As soon as we have exact co-ordinance and have reestablish a Sat-link with the A4 system, the Pentagon will dispatch an unmanned 105 Eagle recon drone it will prowl the perimeter of the target area in an effort to survey the region...gather additional Intel. It will provide us with much needed targeting data for the attack fighter and pilot. Once we’ve regain complete control, Admiral Park has authorization to send in a stealth bomber to eliminate the land based structure. Our original goal remains essentially the same; regain control of the Sat System.” Nelson answered leaning against the plot table. “As for the signal, we follow it to where it leads. Maintain our present course and speed.”

“Maintaining our present course and speed. Aye sir.” Crane nodded his head at Chip, dropping his pencil on the charts; he walked with Nelson to the observation nose.

“Lee, I’ve analyzed the leafy debris we discovered in my lab, it’s highly radioactive. It’s dangerous with prolonged direct exposure. The sap has unusual cellular characteristics as well. It has been infused with an experimental synthetic growth agent. I recognized it as a recent development by a chemical company in California. I have also detected fibrous filaments in the leaves and stems, they are woven all through the structure. There is a fluidity to the entire network. When I attempted to dissect the specimens it recoiled as if they were elasticized, rebounding, the vegetation dissolved in on itself until practically nothing remained, nearly disappearing. When I re-examined the specimen later it had unfolded itself returning to its original form.

"It almost sounds as if it can regenerate itself."

Lee, that may well be true. In addition, I believe this is part of a much larger organism.”

“You’re saying there’s a bigger creature aboard? And if it can regenerate, how do we destroy it?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying and I'm not sure how to stop it.

"How large could it be?"

"How large?" Nelson made a nervous half laugh. "I couldn’t hazard to guess.”

Nelson heard Crane’s initial doubts quickly turned to concern. “Admiral, you’ve been exposed.” Crane’s voice grew troubled with obvious apprehension, worry displayed in his dark eyes.

Nelson snorted. “Yes, I know, Lee. And before you ask,” he waved his hand into the air, “It’s too soon to tell.” He knew the answer all too well but he had no intention of giving Lee the results of his study…not yet at any rate. The Admiral disliked the deception, but Lee would know soon enough.

What was Nelson hiding? “Can we track…whatever this thing is, with radiation detectors?

“It’s an unusual form of radiation, microscopic Polonider crystals, a stable form of Polonium.

"Admiral, that's a rare element, it can be highly unstable. Dangerous." Crane's expression became guarded. "Does it pose a threat to Seaview and her systems?"

"I have no intention of having it aboard long enough to find out."

"Of course you have a plan."

"Lee, I found most of it concentrated in the sap I collected from the table in my lab. I employed chemical analysis to reveal the form of radiation we are dealing with. It exists in the gamma spectrum. I’m working on a Particle Spectra Detector. I may have a solution for you soon. Keep in mind we still don’t know what we’re even looking for.”

“With a detector we’d know where it is.”

“Well, that’s something; maybe we could get a good look at it, try and determine our next move. I should get back to it or we won’t even have a detection device.”

“Yes, sir.”

<^>

A high pitched resonance sounded through the compartment, accompanied by the soft whisper of dry leaves as it approached the room. Pushing its way out of the air duct, the creature emerged, stretching, reaching, moving towards the crewman on duty. The vines dropped to encircle him. In the initial contact his body stiffened, long stems drawing his already dead body back into the high voltage wiring. His extremities trembled when the current surged through his form. The contact overloaded the balance, shorting out the remainder of the upright panels stationed in the room.

The tendrils of the vine equally experienced a tremendous surge of energy, infusing it with strength and a shock of awareness. As the crewman slid to the deck Seaview lost power, rocked violently, failing to hold trim.

On the control deck the sudden rush of bodies could be heard crashing into the metal floor and consoles. Circuits suddenly exploded in showers of sparks. Electrical fires ignited around the room, causing acrid smoke to fill the atmosphere. The harsh taint of burnt circuits hung in the air. Alarms activated throughout the ship, as Seaview continued her downward plunge.

The ships nose angled down, first sliding then sinking into the silt that lay in thick layers on the ocean bottom, shifting as stresses adjusted, dropping to a jarring halt. All around them they could hear Seaview’s anguished cries, like a great wounded beast, moaning at the unexpected and violent plummet to the sea bottom.

Along the bulkheads the remainder of the powered stations could be seen winking out. Suddenly everything became silent, growing black and quiet.

Crane found himself lying flat on his back, he shook his head realizing he hurt everywhere, his neck, head and shoulders. The sharp bite of burnt electrical circuits rode above the stagnant air, producing an uncontrollable urge to cough which made his throbbing head to ache even more. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision, but darkness filled the room.

Seconds later the momentary blackness was stabbed by the flicker of bright lights, abruptly switching to red, indicating Seaview’s mains had cut out completely. The emergency lights cut in, bathing the ships interior with a defused ruby glow. The murmur of damaged bodies could be heard amid an eruption of chaos around the control room.

He cautiously raised his head off the deck, stretching his arm reaching for the mic, while consoles flickered all around him, “Damage control report!” he cried. His demands bellowed over the comms, as he dragged his battered body up off the slightly angled deck.

In the background he could hear the unmistakable sizzle of electrical shorts and Mister Morton's distinct voice urging the crew to put out the corresponding fires. "Over here, get this fire under control!" Ordered the Exec.

"Damage control reporting, sir. Hull damage on the lower deck, aft of frame thirty-four,” the damage control officer reported over the intercom. “Serious electrical damage due to a short in the main circuits, central power down to fifty percent. Environmental systems and comms are running on half power, sir.” The hull shook anew; the tremor vibrated, cascading through the sub, as Seaview continued to settle on the sea bottom.

“Fire in the circuitry room” a voice shouted over the control room speakers. “Fire detail to the circuitry room on the double.” Thick smoke billowed from the circuitry room hatch as the fire detail entered the compartment. The dead crewmen became almost invisible in the midst of the dense harsh atmosphere as it completely filled the entire section.

“Mister Morton, sound general quarters!"

Morton keyed the mic. "Aye, sir. All hands to emergency stations, fire alert! This is not a drill, repeat this is not a drill!”

As Morton replaced the mic, Crane took off at a run, heading for the circuitry room. “You have the con Mister Morton,” calling over his shoulder.

On his approach, the air in the corridor hung with a thick blanket of smoke, the smell of burnt circuits stung Crane’s nose and eyes. Lee stopped cold in his tracks, as the fire team exited the compartment, carrying the body of a young crewman.

“Is he alive?” The Captain asked the young ensign, afraid he already knew the answer.

“Sorry, he’s dead sir,.” One of the men in the fire team answered, his eyes cast down, fixed on the crewman’s remains.

Crane shook his head, his expression soured as he observed the departure of the still form.

Softening his expression, the Captain reached out patting the young man’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Take the body to sickbay.”

The last of the fire detail crossed the hatchway; stepping towards Crane, the fire chief removed his breathing apparatus, releasing a sigh, “Skipper, the fire's out, one casualty, Jenkins.”

“What caused the explosion?

“Don’t know, but from what I’ve seen it appears deliberate, Captain.”

Moving past the team standing in the corridor, he entered the compartment, driven by the need to assess the damage himself.

“Captain Crane.” A voice came through the communications system.

Walking back into the corridor, annoyed, ‘What now,’ he thought. “Crane here.”

“Sparks, sir, you ask to be inform if I picked up that internal signal within the ship, again.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, sir, right before the explosion, I heard the same signal from within the ship.”

“Were you running tape on it?”

“Yes, sir, and I have a short burst from the original signal both recorded.”

“I want a computer analysis of that tape; have Mister Morton run it, as soon as we’ve restored full power. Send along a copy to Doctor Corson for evaluation.”

“Aye, sir. Right away.”

From the opposite corridor, Nelson hurriedly advanced. “Lee, what’s happened?”

“Well, we’re dead on the bottom, not enough power to blow tanks. We’re running on half power and back up batteries.”

“What was the cause?”

“Trying to determine that now, Admiral. It looks as if the circuitry room has been sabotaged.”

“What’s the condition of the rest of the ship?”

“In addition to the circuitry room, we have a minor hull breach aft of frames thirty-four. Crews are shoring it up now. I’ll need to send divers out to inspect the exterior hull.”

The two officers stood in the hatchway taking in the damage. Crane turned to Chief Sharkey who hovered near by. “Chief, get a detail in here to clean this up, and start on repairs.”

“And, Chief.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“I want Kowalski and Moran on this…I’m going to stay and work on this, keep me informed on the repairs, Lee.” Nelson ran a hand through his unruly hair as he set to work trying to make sense of the burnt wreckage, ignoring his physical symptoms. The bile even now crawled up the back of his throat, threatening to erupt.

The Admiral was hands on, willing to work alongside the crew in order to get the job done. His appearance continued to be pale and drawn. With concern, Crane hesitated to broach the subject, but spoke, using a low calm voice, “Admiral, how are you feeling?” he asked waiting for the expected rebuff.

Nelson responded with a cold glare, his tone brooked no dispute. “Perfectly fine,” a warning wrapped in his answer. “No different than earlier, thank you, Captain.”

“Ah, yes sir.” The Captain smiled weakly, thinking, ‘and that’s precisely the problem.’ Crane’s concentration had been split between his ship and men and his growing worry surrounding Nelson’s health. “I’ll be in the control room after I’ve checked on the other repairs, Admiral.” Crane turned to leave. Looking beyond the debris on the deck he stopped reaching down to pick up what appeared to be a leaf.

Nelson and Crane were too preoccupied with the damage to the ship, the carnage in the circuitry room, and the debris that now held their attention. The two men were not aware of the unobtrusive observer concealed in the shadowy protection of the main corridor. A caustic smile crossed the watcher’s face, as he turned swiftly vacating his position, melting seamlessly back into the shades down the darkened passageway.

“Admiral, look at this. It’s the same vegetation we found in the lab,” examining the foliage supported in Crane’s hand.

Nelson’s expression turned to one of extreme interest. “It certainly appears whatever attacked me, caused this as well.” Nelson’s eyes swept over the charred deck. He snorted, fixed on the green leaves in Lee’s palm. “We still have no clue to what we’re dealing with, no closer to identifying its source.”

Crane lifted the mic off the wall; in a few short minutes he attempted to determine his next course of action. His instincts were warning him of the impending danger…abort the mission, but of course that’s not possible. Lee keyed the control room. “Chip, organize any crew not on a work detail; instruct them to look for any object resembling leafy debris. Report all findings.” Crane said dryly.

“Sir?” Morton's confused voice came back through the comms in the form of a question.

“I know how it sounds, Mister Morton, but carry out the order as given. If you find anything suspicious notify the Admiral or myself immediately. Is that clear?” Crane countered, visibly strained, knowing full well how his orders sounded.

“Aye, sir.” Morton simply staring at the mic, he whispered to himself. ‘We’re to look for leaves on a sub.’

“You know Lee he probably thinks you’ve gone off the deep end.” Nelson couldn’t help a wry smile and a throaty chuckle. Humor twinkling deep within his eyes.

Even now Nelson’s humor hadn’t abandoned him as Lee’s face creased with a broad grin. “Well, why have an Exec, if you can’t use him?” Crane stated drolly.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Nelson warned.

In the control room Chip Morton re-keyed the mic. “Chief Sharkey, report to the control room.”

<^>

The Captain sat at his desk sifting through a mountain of files, when his train of thought was interrupted by a call from sickbay.

“Captain, this is sickbay.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I’ve completed the autopsy on Jenkins. You should probably come to sickbay, you need to see this; I’ve already informed the Admiral, he will meet you here.”

“Very well, Doc. I'll be right there.”

Jamieson opened his medical log, expecting to make an entry when he caught the resonance of footfalls. It caused him to glance up in time to notice the Skipper accompanied by Admiral Nelson entering sickbay. “You have something for us, Doc.” Nelson asked abruptly.

Nelson and Crane found themselves looking at a radiographic image of crewman Jenkins skull.

Doc pointed to the film, saying. “I found the same wound in the back of your skull, Admiral. But this assault was more deliberate. The weapon used penetrated the spine and skull, severing the brain stem. The intention here was clearly, to kill. Jenkins was dead before he hit the electrical panel. In my opinion, this man’s been murdered.”

“This just gets better and better.” Crane snapped, shaking his head, running agitated fingers nervously through his short dark hair. "First this thing attacked you, I assume it meant to kill you and I interrupted the assault. Now a crewman is dead. And all we have to go on is next to nothing...an unusual radiation signature and green leaves!”

“Lee, calm down! We’ll sort this out somehow, at the very least, post additional security.” Nelson rubbed his chin, then tensely racked his hand through his auburn hair.

“What good will that do? We’re already on high alert.” Crane’s dark eyes met Nelson’s.

“To be honest, probably none but do it regardless.” Nelson laid a hand on Lee’s arm sympathizing with the Captain’s total frustration at the situation.

A whisper slipped out. “None at all…” He waved an arm into the air in disgust, stomping out of sickbay. “I’ll be in my lab working on the detector.”

Crane gathered a small group of trusted crew led by security Chief Anderson, tasking them with the duty of investigating the death of Jenkins, in addition to the attempt on Nelson’s life. So far it was proving near impossible to ascertain who or what committed the attacks, let alone capture this elusive shadow hiding in their midst. He knew he asked the impossible. All they had to go on...a radiation signature and a handful of green leaves. ‘Some clue, very helpful...’, Crane thought as he strode towards the control deck.

<^>

In the control room, hard work had removed the majority of the disorder that had been scattered across the control room deck from their sudden descent. The fires were out throughout the entire ship, primary systems were up and functional even though all systems were running on half power. Crane ran his fingers over his tired face when the lights suddenly flickered back to life causing him to blink. He looked briefly about the control room, the normal illumination had returned, an array of colored lights flickered over each station as more systems came back on line. With full power restored, the Captain did a rapid review of all panels, verifying that all ship's systems presented as operational.

“Captain.” Chip entered the control room. “Damage control team’s report all repairs are complete. Divers report no damage to the outer hull.” Chip Morton leaned against the plot table handing over the clipboard. “Mister Windsor reports engines are back to full power and ready to answer bells.”

“Kowalski, sonar clear.”

“Yes, sir not even a ripple.” Morton grinned at the genial reply.

“Very well Chip, take her up slow.”

“Aye, aye.” Chip grabbed the mic. “Engineering, blow main ballast, twenty degree up bubble.” The klaxon sounded. “Surface, surface.” He shouted to the helm.

Seaview quavered a few seconds before she grudgingly ascended from the thick silt. Clouds of sediment rolled up around the hull temporarily obscuring the main view ports with muddy water.

Clearing the bottom and the sediment, Chip ordered. “Give me full elevation on the plains.”

Steadily Morton felt the ship respond under his feet, as he intently observed all the readings. Seaview lifted its way gently towards the surface.

“Chip activate blowers as soon as we breach the surface.” The Captain ordered.

“Aye, sir.”

Moments after the command, Seaview’s hull broke through into a calm blue sea, water cascaded off her silver grey exterior, emerging into a brilliant azure sky. “Scrub the air, activate all emergency blowers, open all top side hatches.” The Captain ordered. The clang of metal hatches could be heard over the whoosh of the blowers accelerating up to full, the influx of fresh air a welcome relief to the overall crew.

“Chip, when the airs cleared, take her back down to one five zero feet, resume our original course and speed.”

“Aye, aye.”

<^>

Lieutenant Dave Windsor, stood the third watch, he surveyed the room, noting the atmosphere of quiet competence. The hushed whispers of the crew could be faintly detected around the room. It was a normal uneventful third watch.

When the efficiency was interrupted by an unfamiliar rustling, alerting the control room’s crew of the impending danger, the eerie sound was followed immediately by a writhing sea of limbs, protruding from the corner of the bulkhead that held the main computer system. The vine quickly covered the computer exterior surface weaving itself inside and out.

A rating cried, “What is that thing?” Braking away from his console, he backed into the center of the control deck. “Where’d it come from?”

“Everyone step back,” Windsor shouted, sounding the alarm and grabbing the mic off the side of the plot table. “Captain Crane, this is Windsor, emergency in the control room.”

A groggy Crane answered. “What's the emergency?”

“There’s a…a thing attacking the computer…sir,” came the unsteady and shaky reply.

“On my way!” Lee dropped the mic bolting from his cabin. Had he heard right, 'a thing attacking the computer?'

Lieutenant Windsor watched the spectacle from his vantage point by the plot table. His major concern was the damage to the computer and its impact on their current mission. He garnered no thoughts to the organism’s origins. It was here now, how do we stop it?

Every man on duty at the computer console backed away. The remainder of the watch paused tracking the vine, transfixed on its progress as it penetrated through and around the main computer and it's connected work stations.

Within minutes Crane achieved the stairs clattering down the metal treads. He came up short directly behind Windsor. He took in a sight he could scarcely believe; his voice low and quiet. “What the…?” Crane’s eyes widened as he moved forward, hands grasping at the edge of the plot table, as if proximity would lend reason to what he observed. “What the devil is that thing?” His hands continued to grasp the stair rail tightly. But his mind was fully engaged on the creature and it's bizarre movements.

“Better still, how do we stop it?” Windsor asked cutting into Crane's thoughts. “Can’t shoot it. Where would we aim? Could try a laser pistol, burn it like a weed.”

“We’d destroy what’s left of the computer.” Crane’s mind began to race about. On the verge of giving an order, the creature slowed, causing the Captain's words to die in his throat.

Blue green static shot across the computer panels, lighting them up, and then it shut down. Going dark. Abruptly the stems recoiled, extracting itself from the computer, retreating, vanishing back into the ship. ‘This is what attacked Nelson’ he thought.

“Captain, picking up that signal again.” The night watch radio officer called out.

Crane shook his head in an attempt to regain reality. He stepped forward, approaching the radio shack; the officer removed the paper feed, handing it to the Skipper. “Do we have a fix?”

“Yes, sir.” handing Crane additional information. “The signal's coming for the control room corridor, directly outside the aft hatch.”

“That close.” Crane keyed the mic. “Master-at-arms.”

“Aye, sir,” came the prompt reply.

His voice low and quiet, “Lay forward to the control room’s aft corridor, detain anyone near the hatch.”

Moments later, the master-at-arms hustle a startled Greg Moran, sonar rating, through the green curtain of the aft hatch. In his hand was a device resembling a pen.

“Captain, what’s going on, how dare you arrest me?” Moran’s words held contempt; Crane could hear hatred toward him, towards his ship, his entire way of life. He glared at Crane.

“Captain, he was using this.” The security officer passed over the device.

“What do we have here?” Examining it closely, finding a raised nodule along the side, Crane pressed down.

Immediately the radio operator’s voice rang out. “Picking up the signal again, Captain.”

“Well, now we know where the signal originates. What purpose does it serve?”

Before Crane could resume, the vine emerged, rushing at Moran, it encircled him, the rustle of leaves obscure by the startled cries springing from the rating's throat. “Help me!” he pleaded, terror darted from his eyes. “Don’t let it kill me!” In minutes the entire watch stood lunging forward. Before they could wrestle the foliage from the impostor Crane shouted stay back it's highly radioactive, don’t touch it.” Its tendrils continued to wind tighter, blood sprayed from the base of his skull. The organism squeezed around him crushing the man to death. Eyes staring blindly, dark garnet colored blood flowed from his nostrils and mouth. Finally the vine relaxed its hold, withdrawing abandoning the lifeless body at their feet. In seconds, the green vines retracted vanishing into the tiny spaces of Seaview, places where no human being could follow, leaving behind death and destruction.

Making its escape, the organism experienced a flash of clarity; tendrils of knowledge coursed through it, inundating its new consciousness, bringing the entire being to life. Embracing its new awareness and the intelligence extracted from the ship's computer, all information began to coalesce into complex thought patterns. Minute by minute it continued to grow in strength and power, accepting it all. Included with its new knowledge, an unforeseen consequence from it's contact with the human, Nelson. It experienced a stirring of emotion, and an instinct to be free. 'It must search out Nelson.' In its self-awareness the creature felt an inescapable need to join with the Admiral, requiring more than the distant rapport they now shared.

Crane reached down, placing two fingers to Moran’s throat, proving conclusively the man was dead. Motioning to several crew on watch. “Get protective gloves and take the body to sickbay.”

Windsor sharpened his tone, regaining control of the watch. “Okay, everyone, eyes back to your stations.”

Chief Sharkey came into view, as if awaiting orders. He closed the distance between them. “Sir, what was that thing, anyway?”

“I’m guessing the source of our troubles.” An indistinct thought escaped.

“Sir.”

“Chief, gather every available man not working on repairs. Use the laser pistols, search every inch of this sub, if you find that thing, kill it.”

“Aye, aye, sir, with pleasure.”

Finally Crane crossed the deck to the computer techs, who now were conducting a complete diagnostic on the computer systems.

“How’s it coming, did it sustain much damage?”

“No, sir, not much at all.” The tech sounded surprised.” I expected far worse considering what happened.”

“Well, keep with it - I want every component checked and rechecked.”

Snatching up the mic, Crane keyed Nelson’s quarters. “Admiral?” No reply, uneasily, he keyed it a second time, obtaining no response. ‘Something’s not right’. It wasn’t logical, yet, unable to shed the gut feeling. He swept his eyes over the control deck, focusing on the operators and the instrument consoles, inspecting each station with knowing eyes. He found the atmosphere in the control room calm, its air of efficiency restored. The crew was alert, each man attending to his station. “Dave, you have the con, if you need me I’m headed to the Admiral’s quarters.”

“Aye, sir.”

Windsor immediately saw Crane’s intentions, slipping aside. The Captain swept by, agilely taking the treads of the staircase two at a time. Achieving the top, he bolted down the corridor. Lee advanced on Nelson’s cabin, planning to check there first.

<^>

The Admiral lay in his bunk dozing, drifting into a disturbed restless sleep, when searing pain shot through his head and neck as taut green tendrils enfolded his body. Falling back onto his bunk, not able to rise, he fervently struggled upward for control.

Losing the battle, his mind sank deeper into obscurity. He became aware of flecks of light streaking through strange shadows, soft wisps glowed around him, a fine mist swirled about his feet.

“We apologize for your injury.” A voice spoke softly out of the murmuring darkness. “This is our only means of communication; we can see your mind and body have been ill used too often by others, with little regard for you. Your scars are plain to see if one knows where to look; now that we are stronger we can discern the damage to your fragile form, the harm we have affected, and the cost to your cellular structure. Our intentions were not to injure, only to communicate.”

“Why communicate with me?”

“You are our only means of escape. You are in control of this vessel; you are our chance to be free of the human controller directing our actions. We have accessed your mind, physical contact not being necessary after our initial joining, as we learn from your thoughts. We have since acquired more knowledge from your ship's computer system, we now understand. ”

“What exactly do you understand?”

“The damage we caused to your cellular structure gives us in a word, leverage, a bargaining point.”

“What do you want, precisely?”

“We have the knowledge, the means to heal you, restore what is damaged. All we ask in return is freedom; we will not interfere with the human population, as long as our existence and location remain unknown.”

Nelson snorted. “Is that all?”

“It is a fair exchange for your restored health, along with the safety of your crew and ship.”

“Why restore my cells, escape, no one will stop you. The crew doesn’t know of your existence.”

“That is where you are mistaken; your Captain and crew are hunting us as we speak.

They witnessed the unfortunate death of our controller in your control room moments ago.”

“You haven’t answered my question. Why help me.”

“We regret…our actions against you and your ship.”

“So you have a conscience, is that what you’re saying?” Nelson gave a bark of laughter at the notion.

“We must depart; your Captain is approaching.”

“Consider our proposal, we will come when you call, clear you mind, we will know. Remember your fate and the fate of your ship lies with us. We retain the means to destroy both. Don’t try and deceive us. We will know.” A hint of menace seeped through; to Nelson’s mind it sounded more of an un-promised threat, then a proposal. The statement unnerved him.

It spoke the last words as the blood stained vegetation withdrew, abruptly severing its physical connection to Nelson’s sweat soaked body and once again slipping into the recesses of Seaview’s bulkheads.

Lee knock softly, waited, listened. He heard no sound within and inched the door open. “Admiral?”

No longer hesitating, the feeling of wrongness had intensified. His worst fears, fulfilled. The sight of the Admiral’s seemingly lifeless body, limp and discarded. He lay so still in the bunk, his face ashen, his red hair wet and matted, sweat stood out in beads over his face and sprinkled down his neck. The sight drove other concerns far from Lee’s mind.

Using the comm on Nelson’s desk, he keyed sickbay. “Doc, you’re needed in the Admiral’s quarters immediately.”

A sleepy voice answered. “On my way.”

Crane looked around seeing that same flickering soundless shadow across the wall. ‘That’s same leafy debris.’ Lee thought, picking it up, fingering a piece in his hand. At least we have seen the creature. His thoughts settled on Nelson once again.

Doc lifted his eyelids, shining his light onto Nelson’s dilated pupils, finding them sluggish.

Crane stood by Jamieson, his eyes transfixed on his best friend. “Doc, how is he?”

“Not good, I’ll know more when we get him into sickbay.” Jamieson delivered his words quietly, trying not to split his attention. “Frank, pass me the oxygen.” The corpsmen pass over the tank and mask; the hiss of the compressed air filtered through the tubing, piercing the deathly quiet of Nelson’s quarters.

<^>

There were things he should be attending too but none of it seemed more important at the moment. Chip was in the control room, he trusted him to oversee Seaview and her crew, with his ever present and unwavering efficiency. Lee knew the ship to be in excellent hands; he needed to be here, with Nelson.

Jamieson had spent the better part of the last two hours attempting to stabilize the Admiral’s deteriorating condition, administering Nexovir hoping to stimulate cell recovery. The medication having little effect, he saw no alternative, but to inject a considerable dose of corticosteroids. Under the right condition the drug could compensate for Nelson’s wildly unstable vitals and the accompanying hypothermia. It eventually had the desired effect, returning his bodies vitals to relative norms, at least for a short run.

Jamieson had no way to gauge the lasting effects of the medication nor what damage it would cause to Nelson's already depleted system. In his efforts to develop a treatment for the Admiral's condition; Jamieson found disturbing evidence of cellular corruption. He knew this damage would lead to a complete collapse of Nelson's entire system, thus ending his life.

So Lee Crane paced and waited. Stopping himself, realizing it to be a pointless waste of energy, he forced his anxious body to remain still, taking a deep breath. Sitting down he lent back against the stiff chair, rubbing his temples and the taut muscles in his neck and back. Wincing at the unusual soreness around his shoulders. He wrapped his long strong arms about his chest, a sigh escaped at his weariness; he had remained in sickbay with a quiet determination. Trying to relax a bit, he reached out, resting his hand on Nelson’s arm. He felt the icy cold radiating from Nelson's exposed flesh, unable to look away, Lee's eyes focused on the Admiral's damaged body.

The sight immediately transported him to an earlier time, to the Nautilus, and an image of a much younger Nelson. Lee sighed casting his thoughts back, remembering his first encounter with Nelson and his posting on the Nautilus. He closed his eyes until it fixed clearly in his mind. It felt as though it was yesterday. The two officers had served together on the old submarine. He had greatly admired Nelson all those years ago when a friendship would have been impossible do to rank. It hadn’t been until Crane had come aboard Seaview as her permanent Captain that their friendship had grown and strengthened.

Back then Lee was a young bright energetic post cadet, a Lieutenant fresh out of the Academy, eager to please the top brass. There had been an explosion in the engine room and Crane happened to be the first one on the scene. Through the smoke and fire the lieutenant spotted Rear Admiral Nelson and the Nautilus’s chief engineer buried in the rubble that had once been engineering. Without a thought to his own welfare, he rushed in, dragging them both out to safety but his hands had been badly burned in the process. Later in sickbay as Cranes hands were being treated and bandaged, the young Lieutenant Crane, from his vantage point watched the unconscious form of Nelson lying in a sickbay bunk. Lee’s mind centered on that thought, ‘he had appeared vulnerable and defenseless then, much as he does now.’

Nelson’s head throbbed with fiery pain as he cleaved his way up through the darkness, the void, all the while moving upward. He awoke to the pleasant sensation of warmth surrounding his body. He realized he lay snugly wrapped in a warming blanket. Clearly he could hear the soft beep of a heart monitor which told him, most assuredly, he once again occupied a bunk in Seaview's sickbay. His eyes snapped opened, taking slow regular breaths, needing to rein in his racing heart and aching ribs. Save for a hint of light spilling out from Jamieson’s small lab at the far end of the compartment, he could see nothing but darkness along its edges. Not only did his head throb; the uncomfortable feeling ran directly to his gut as well. He felt nauseated, the same nausea that plagued him, now he realized, from the first contact with the vine intelligence.

Nelson cursed himself for being seized again so easily, for a second time. Registering the tightness of a blood pressure cuff on his upper arm and the subtle pull on his right hand, he looked up catching the site of the glass IV bottle hung high above. The long tubing snaked down to his arm as it fed warmth and nutrition directly into his veins. It was additional confirmation he indeed had return to Seaview’s sickbay.

A seated form loomed in the twilight of the room; he strained to focus his eyes, trying to recognize the figure sitting beside the bunk, and the hand resting on his arm as Lee Crane’s, a welcome and reassuring link to the real world, “Lee,” Nelson whispered in a dry voice.

Lee’s mind still traveled the familiar path through his memories, barely hearing his own name. At it's call Lee's head snapped up as if startled awake, his eyes immediately caught in Nelson’s. A smile stole across his lips; it masked all his inner fears. Quietly, he answered. “Yes, Harry,” he whispered, imparting Nelson with a long steady gaze.

“How...how long have you been here?” Lee never called him Harry unless they were on leave, where rank could be disregarded in the spirit of an enduring friendship, or when Lee felt profoundly troubled.

“A couple of hours. Since we brought you to sickbay.” A weighty sigh left Crane’s body as he stood. “I’ll get Doc,” he said despairingly.

“Lee!” Nelson urged, halting Lee’s progress with a light touch on his arm.

Crane turned. “Lee we’ve known each other rather a long time. I know when you’re hiding something. Out with it!” After all they had been through on Seaview, he could easily identify when the Captain put up a front for the crew or in this case for him, hiding the seriousness of the situation.

“I think Jamieson needs to answer that question.” Lee stalled. Nelson caught the shift in tension around Crane’s eyes and that subtle harmonic shift in Lee’s normally clear voice.

“That bad?” The Admiral managed a soft snort and a weak smile.

Looking at him suspiciously, knowing Nelson missed nothing, he briefly glanced away. “I’ll get Doc.” But Lee lingered, his gaze settling on Nelson once more.

The Admiral closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, pulling himself together, eyes looking, focusing on Crane. “Lee, I already know.”

“How could you?” Crane sobered, dropping his gaze, taking his need to know farther. “What do you know?” Lee wondered does he truly know and what would come next.

“I know, I know I’m not well… possibly dying. I also know...what attacked me.”

“How could you?” Crane’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“This…all this is going to sound crazy.”

“After what I’ve seen, don’t be too sure, try me.”

“I know about the vine, it’s sentient, aware, and unquestionably intelligent.”

“How can vegetation be intelligent?”

“Lee, you gather enough neurons together, in any form, add electrical stimulation, you have the possibility for independent thought. In a word intelligence....I’ve communicated with the organism.”

“That thing, you talked to it? How?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What does that mean?” staring at the Admiral with a puzzled expression.

“Lee, remember the puncture wound Jamieson found on the back of my neck?”

A cold shiver washed over him. “You’re saying it connected with you?” Peering at Nelson, he studied the Admiral’s face for the truth, horrified by the concept of his words.

“In a word, yes.”

“What does it want?”

“To be free of Moran, he exerted control over its actions. I am aware the vine killed him. It now has the ability to act out side human control.”

“Is that what it told you?”

“Yes, why? What could be worse than being killed."

Lee continued. “It murdered him in the control room, just a few hours ago, crushed him to death, after it had engulfed the computer system.”

Nelson changed the subject. He had no intentions of continuing on this vein not willing to discuss the vine creature further. He would inform Crane and Jamieson of the vines proposal to save his life, revealing the entire plan later at the completion of their current mission. ‘If he could hold out that long. Assuming, of course, the Doctor's drugs would allow him that time:' He thought determinedly, he pushed aside all those concerns. “What’s the damage to the computer? Can it be repaired?”

“I have techs working on that now, no major damage, should know more by morning.”

Jamieson approached. “Admiral, you’re awake.”

Crane cut in. “Doc he knows about all of it. It’s been in contact with him.”

“Well in that case I guess I don’t have to go over all the details, you are aware...that you are quite ill.”

“Yes, I am.” Nelson replied in a grave tone.

“All right, if that’s the case, tell me how are you feeling?” Doc asked peering into Nelson’s blue eyes. “Hmm, pupils are back to normal.” Continuing to check Nelson, Doc moved next, checking his pulse. Taking his wrist in a professional grip, his grasp delicate but firm.

“Like a truck hit me.”

“I’m not surprised; your readings were extreme, beginning to settle now. Your body temps my main concern, it’s low, too low, bordering on hypothermia. Need to keep you warm." Doc move to check the temp of the blanket. Not expecting the Admiral to shed further light regarding his current condition, "Meanwhile, you need to keep warm and rest.”

“We have a mission to complete, I’ll be fine.” He began to push himself up, but the stabbing pain in his head convinced him to lie back against the crease pillow. The exertion caused him to squeeze his eyes shut again until the discomfort passed.

Taking note of Nelson’s reaction. “All you have to do at this moment, is to lay quiet and let me do my job. I’m not letting you go so fast, you’re staying the night in sickbay.”

Nelson opened his mouth to speak, than closed it, seeing the stern look Doc shot him, Nelson was given no choice. “No arguments, maybe, I’ll release you tomorrow, maybe.”

“Seems I’ve been told, Lee”

“Go get some rest, Lee.”

“What about that renegade vegetation running loose in the ship?”

“I doubt if we could find it, if it doesn’t want to be found. For the moment, it has what it wants. Moran’s dead. Shouldn’t pose a problem, for a while, at least. Keep security on alert and get some rest, nothing we can do, focus on our mission.”

Lee looked down nodding. “If you say so, Admiral. You know I have the utmost confidence in your reasoning but if it’s all the same with you, I don’t think I’ll be closing my eyes tonight.” Reluctantly he turned to leave. “Good night, Harry.”

Lee couldn’t shake the feeling Nelson had held back, knew more than he was letting on. It all felt unfinished as if he had omitted pertinent information. Pressing the matter, he knew, would reveal no further details, only additional denials. What did the Admiral not want them to know... what was he hiding and what would be the ultimate cost?

<^>

At long last Security Chief Anderson came off duty. His first stop the mess. "Where is everyone?" he asked one of the cooks still on duty as he sat at one of the long tables.

"Most have been and gone, sir. May I ask why you’re so late."

"The Skipper has us scouring the ship looking for variegated green leaves, trying to locate that plant creature that attacked the Admiral and ran rampant through the control room."

"Any luck, sure wouldn't want to meet up with that thing in a dark corridor? "The cook shivered.

"I'm with you on that."

"I hope you find it soon, sir. Gives me the creeps thinking about it roaming free anywhere in the ship."

"We'll continue the search until it's found." Anderson answered with more conviction then he currently felt after an exhaustive search that had turned up absolutely nothing.

"On that note, sir. I'll just go and get you some dinner." The cook walked away not totally convinced.

<^>

Lee Crane's mood was clouded, he felt tense, on edge, swinging between frustration and reaching for calm. His thoughts raced, running through the current seemingly impossible situation. He walked back through the ship; all the corridor lights had been dimmed, signifying night aboard Seaview. Twenty-two hundred to zero six hundred hours, the graveyard shift. Crane realized he was tired but unable to relax, his nerves frayed, his thoughts always returning to the creature, and the safety of his ship, his men. Circling back again to Nelson and his belief that the creature would not make another appearance. He passed several crew members on his way to the control room, responding to their greeting without it actually registering. His mind set on autopilot, merely going through the motions.

Entering the control room he moved to the plot table. “Mister Windsor, any problems?

“No, sir, nothing to report. Doctor Corson relayed a new course adjustment.” Windsor leaned over the plot table. He retrieved a pencil sitting on top of the scattered charts that lay across its surface and pointed to their present position indicating the most recent course change.

"Any reports from the two teams searching for the creature?"

"Nothing definitive, Captain. Debris has been found in the affected areas only. No other locations on the boat, no sign of the creature itself," sliding the report across the table to Crane.

“Very well, how are the techs coming with the computer system?”

“They still have a few hours’ work ahead of them, sir.” Looking over at the computer, “So far it checks out okay, no significant damage. Sir, what was that thing that attacked us?”

“According to the Admiral, it’s some kind of plant creature. It came aboard with Moran with the intent to stop this mission. The Admiral’s convinced that it won’t attack again, now that Moran is dead.”

“What do you think, sir?”

“I honestly don't know, I have my doubts.”

"Captain... how is, Admiral Nelson?”

“Much better, he’s resting comfortably. You keep the con Mister Windsor. I’ll be nearby in case of trouble.”

“Aye, sir. Are you expecting trouble, sir?”

“No, I'm not. Carry on, Mister Windsor” Crane picked up the clipboard with the chief's report.

The Captain walked away, focusing on the solid reality of their mission. After assuring himself that their course, speed and position, were correct. Crane moved to assess each station. Finding he had made a complete circuit of the room, he finally settled in the observation nose. This place, with its view of the swirling dark water, usually offered him comfort, but not today. Nelson and Crane frequently had coffee here, together. Pouring himself a cup and placing the clipboard on the desk he sat down; he rubbed his tired weary hand over his bleary eyes. ‘I may as well stay here’. Despite Nelson's reassurances about the creature and his entire crew on high alert, Crane felt wary and increasingly unsettled, his conclusion, ‘It’s going to be a very long night.’

Regardless of the fact he felt bone tired. Lee massaged the back of his neck in an attempt to relax trying to focus on the report in front of him. His body felt tense with stress making it difficult to concentrate. Stretching, he tried to work out the kinks, unable to relieve the uncomfortable knots in his muscles.

The Captain heard the footfalls on the metal stairs, the sound pulling him away from his thoughts. Turning, he foolishly expected to see Nelson but to his surprise Jamieson stepped off the last step on a direct path to Crane’s position." You should be resting.” Jamieson said quietly.

“I’ll rest when this is all over, Doctor," he abruptly stated. Lee placed his thumb and index finger over his right eye, rubbing hard at a deepening throb. "Did the Admiral send you?”

“No. I came on my own, you’ve been pushing yourself.”

“Between the creature and the Sat System, we’ve encountered a great deal of resistance. I haven’t had much choice.” Lee wiped across his forehead at a nagging headache, it had begun a persistent beat chipping away at his nerves and his logic.

“Well, have you eaten?” Giving Crane a stern glare, knowing Lee well. Jamieson knew the answer to his question even before Crane spoke the words.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not the least bit hungry.” Crane felt beyond tired and hungry. The fact that his nerves were on edge, only contributed to the uneasy sensation in his stomach and the accompanied lack of appetite.

“You can’t function without food, Skipper, you need to eat and rest.”

Crane’s retort slipped out a bit sharper then he had intended. “Shouldn’t you be tending to the Admiral?”

Jamieson ignored the sharp tone. “He’s stable and asleep, and that’s where you should be.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve gone without sleep and food. I’m needed here.”

“I could make that an order, Captain.” Crane recognized Doc’s demeanor and the authority of commanding that crept into Doc's voice.

Crane compressed his lips in annoyance, marginally conceding. “Okay, I’ll have cookie send up something from the galley, and I’ll eat but don’t expect me to sleep, not with that creature still on the loose!” Lee lifted his dark lashes, his eyes held a rebellious glare, as if to say, ‘you wouldn’t dare order me,’ but instead he said, “Will that satisfy you, Doctor?”

Jamieson could see the uneasiness in Crane; he knew the Captain wasn’t convinced of Nelson's belief that the creature wouldn’t make another appearance. “I guess it will have to do, Captain. I’ll stop by the galley myself to see that you do order the food to be delivered here.” Jamieson observed the Captain's quiet, a slow withdraw within himself. Doc worried over the fatigue he witnessed in the Captain's eyes, and the way his shoulders slumped in resignation over Nelson’s condition. Jamieson couldn’t conceive of a world without Harriman Nelson, knowing full well Lee Crane would be one of the first casualties, and that seemed from his standpoint, a real possibility. “If you won’t rest, at least I can be certain you eat. I’ll be checking on you later, Captain, and that’s a promise.” Jamieson left as quietly as he had come. Still not totally satisfied with the situation, he headed for the galley.

<^>

“Captain, we have coordinates.” Corson called over the mic. “Sending them to Seaview’s computer now.”

“Thank you, Doctor, we’re receiving them.”

Chip tore off the paper feed, stopping to read the information. “Lee, according to this, we’re close, along this heading,” looking quickly at the charts as he passed the print out over to Crane. "What do you expect to find?”

Crane read the feed, nodding his head in agreement. “An installation of some sort, could be manned or automated. We need to keep our distance; collect more data before we approach. Try jamming the signal from here, regain control remotely. If that fails, we board the structure.” Crane turned his attention back to the charts to calculate their altered course.

“Riley, anything from sonar?”

“Not yet sir, we may be too far out.” Sonar swept the waters ahead, searching for the target.

“Sing out as soon as you get something.”

Within minutes, Riley's clear voice rang through the control room. “Sonar, large metal contact, sir, bearing, two six zero degrees relative, range half mile on ocean floor.”

“Helm, slow to one quarter speed.”

Picking up the mic, "Admiral, we’ve made sonar contact with a large structure on the bottom, half mile out.”

“Be right there, Lee.” Nelson snug in his green sweater walked the few steps toward the stairs.

Crane walked to the sonar station, picked up the extra set of headphones and listened. His eyes watched the echo’s interpreted on the display screen as he made his own assessment of the contact.

A shape began to present on sonar. “Intensify the scan, build it to full; see if we can get a better image.” Riley adjusted the controls, sliding his capable hands over the panel as the resolution cleared.

Nelson moved to the side of the control room taking up position along side Crane at the sonar display station. Quickly reading the screen, “Lee, let’s approach this with caution.”

Crane agreed. “All engines dead slow.”

Low murmurs could be heard as Nelson approached the main control deck. On either side of the room, technicians sat at their consoles each studying and relaying the data to Mister Morton while it streamed across their display screens.

Nearing the structure sonar began to ping back at ever shorter intervals. “Range three thousand yards,” the rating sang out.

“All stop, hold trim, neutral buoyancy.” Crane ordered at once.

“All stop,” snapped the Exec in acknowledgment. "Neutral buoyancy." Seaview’s engines began to wind down; a subtle change in vibration accompanied the reduction in speed.

“What are your readings on the hydrophones, Clark?

“General background noise.”

“Anything from the dome?"

“A faint electrostatic emission, sir.”

That brought Nelson's immediate interest; he picked up the spare headset. “Chip, activate the nose camera; let’s see what we are dealing with,” he ordered.

“Riley any other contact in the area?”

“No sir, nothing.”

The forward nose camera shimmered momentarily, coming to life resolving into a view of an underwater dome shaped installation. A golden glow emitted from the uppermost portion of the dome. Conduits and piping lined its exterior haul. It seemed deserted, its flickering colored lights extended around the main structure. “It looks like it’s protected by some sort of electromagnetic field.” Nelson rubbed his chin as he peered at the monitor.

“There’s a hatch below and a docking hatch above.” Morton observed. “If we can get past the force field, we can enter the dome and deactivate the signal from within.” Chip stared at the display screen alongside Nelson and Crane.

“Picking up a faint energy signature, sir, electromagnetic radiation,” a nearby rating announced from the newly enhanced science station.

“Do the levels pose any threat to Seaview?” Nelson asked knowing radiation in high enough levels could threaten Seaview and her crew.

“No, sir, the output's minimal, similar to a small reaction chamber.”

“No doubt it’s a small reactor; you’d require a steady stream of power to sustain the force field and its internal circuitry.” Nelson stated with confidence.

<^>

Nelson and Doctor Corson were unsuccessful at regaining control of the Sat System remotely; they were left with only one alternative. It would be necessary to board the dome to effectively reclaim control.

“Lee, assemble a diving team, I have an idea how to collapse that force field out there, giving us access to the dome.”

The Captain perceived Nelson’s physical state as he worked. ‘Doc released the Admiral prematurely. He hadn’t had sufficient time to recoup his strength, and he didn’t look well at all.’ Nelson’s focus seemed blurred, fractured, almost as if he were hearing another voice or seeing an unseen face, he seemed exhausted, hair rumpled, skin pale and pasty. Crane noticed Nelson's hands shaking. Lee couldn't confirm at the time if it was the cold or the exhaustion, or perhaps both were effecting the Admiral. When Crane questioned his release from sickbay, Nelson simply glared at Lee, saying. “We have a mission to complete - that’s should be our primary objective, Captain.”

Nelson’s unsteady fingers continuously fidgeted with his notes that laid spread across his desk, he strove to concentrate, explaining his plan in greater detail.

Below in the missile room Sharkey set about organizing the four divers and the equipment they would require to complete their task. They departed Seaview armed with fully charge laser rifles and cutting torches swimming out from the escape hatch. Heading for the installation’s shielding, their objective to clear the way for Crane and the detail aboard FS1. At first the divers worked, attempting to overload the system but managing only to weaken the shield strength. Finally the shield dropped. After an intense thirty minutes of work, it simply winked out. “Instruments showing no signs of an electromagnetic signature, Admiral,” a diver’s voice floated over the comms.

“Confirmed,” echoed a rating at the science station.

“Good work. Now secure the diving detail and return to the ship.” A smile hovered at Nelson’s eyes. Acknowledging to himself, this part of his plan had worked, as it opened the way for the flying sub.

Below the command deck the Flying Sub held position in her hanger. On board a party of techs lead by Crane impatiently waited. The Captain quickly ran down the pre-flight check list turning on the power supply. A steady glow of green lights flickered from the display consoles, their dancing reflection mirrored in the curve of the dark observation ports. He utilized the remaining wait time to issue final instructions regarding entry into the structure. “Remember we don’t know if it’s manned, be prepared for anything, be on your guard,” Crane warned.

"Firing up the reactor." Crane's display flickered to life. The energy surged through the ship.

“Lee, this is Nelson, you’re clear for launch, the electromagnetic field’s been disabled.”

“Understood.”

"Reactor up to full, starting engines." Crane announced.

Crane sat in the pilot’s seat, the straps of his harness still fastened. He fingered the transducer at his throat. “All instrumentation read green, ready to launch. Open launch doors.” At the command the launch bay door slid to either side, retreating into the recesses of the ship.

“Flying sub, green lights on all systems, your clear for launch.”

Crane commanded. "Launch." Again he touched the transducer, issuing his instructions. The engines engaged, their sound intensified as FS1 slipped her moorings, dropping from the luminous bay several meters beneath Seaview, pitching down then thrusting forward, initiating a rotation to starboard, angling towards the dome, turning slightly in order to achieve a clean seal, while continuously applying precise adjustments to maintain trim. Finally the small craft positioned itself in place above the domes access hatch. The sub dropped down with a resounding thump, creating a secure lock.

Cracking the interior hatch, muted light greeted them along with gun fire. The darkness making it difficult to see who was shooting at them. Immediately returning fire, the party darted to either side of the hatch seeking cover.

The distant murmur of voices drifted in from the interior of the main chamber inside the structure. Scuffling could be heard moments before a new barrage of bullets commenced.

Weapons discharge stitched across the deck between the Seaview crew and the dome’s occupants. Crane signaled for his men to move into position. Fanning out from the exit the crew carefully shifted away from the hatch, taking up positions along the interior edges of the dome.

Shots continued to spatter around them while the two sides fought for control: projectiles ricocheted off bulkheads and consoles. A dome tech screamed as a bullet slammed into his body, entering his chest. As he turned, it ripped through his torso, coming out the back of the chair, hitting the equipment behind him, causing bright sparks to shower over the dimly lit control center. The techs screams created enough of a diversion, allowing Seaview's crew to gain the upper hand. The two remaining guards and one tech were quickly subdued, captured and rounded up. They were detained in one of the storage rooms off the main control center.

Banks of partially illuminated panels lay before them. Many of the consoles had been damage by the fire fight. A few flickered on and off casting pulsing patterns along the bulkheads and ceiling. Doctor Corson, Crane and the techs assessed the controls, taking stock of the working systems. Regardless of the damage they were tasked with recognizing a familiar starting point.

The Captain found the radio and tuned in the correct band and frequency of Seaview. “Crane to Seaview, come in Seaview.”

Crane heard Sparks crisp reply. “We read you, Captain.”

“Lee, any trouble?”

“We had an altercation with the occupants and handled it, Admiral. We have one dead tech, the rest are secured.”

“Good work, Lee.”

“Keep me informed of your progress.”

“Aye, sir, looking over the control panels now. Get back to you when we have something, Crane out.”

Corson recognized the meaning of the display first. “Lee, if I’m reading this correctly, their reactor’s been damaged; going critical in about ninety minutes. We’ll need to work fast, giving us enough time to escape and maneuver Seaview out of the blast radius.”

“Admiral, we have a situation here, the reactor has been damaged, we have about ninety minutes before it blows.”

“Any chance of shutting it down, Lee.”

“No, Admiral, the controls have been extensively damage by several bullets. A manual shut down would be required.” He stated bluntly.

“Lee, that’s too risky.”

Seconds rapidly ticked by, Doctor Corson struggled to reestablish control of the Sat System. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, taking a toll on his body. Through gritted teeth. “Damn, the programming’s been altered, it’s going to take longer then I initially thought.” He growled. Shaking nervously, his hands swiftly set about reprogramming the system, traveling as fast as humanly possible over switches and dials.

“How long?” The Captain questioned. Beads of sweat dotted Crane's face and neck, as he followed Corson’s progress. While Crane kept a running dialog of elapsed time.

“Not sure, have to override the...” his words trailed off.

In the meantime, Kowalski secured the prisoners, taking them onboard the flying sub and having her ready for immediate launch.

After what seemed forever, a connection had been restored. “Admiral, can you verify?”

Corson and Crane stared at the microphone, anxiously awaited confirmation from Nelson.

Ron’s voice ran clear, as it filtered through the tense atmosphere of the control deck. “Admiral, command and control’s been reestablished, we’re receiving telemetry.” The rating paused as he listened through his headphones. “Yes, we have confirmation from satellite tracking the array is back online.”

“Yes, the Sat Link’s been reestablished. Steve, good work, well done. Now get out of there before that reactor goes.”

“On our way,” Crane announced enthusiastically.

The air in the control room ran thick with tension, all eyes riveted on the hatch for FS1 waiting for confirmation that the Captain and his party were safely aboard.

FS1 docked with a clank as the magnetic couplings made contact. “All ahead flank Mister Morton.” Nelson barked.

“Aye, sir.”

Seaview moved out at full speed in an attempt to out run the impending shock wave.

“Sir, large explosion from the area of the dome, shock wave approaching.”

“This is Nelson. All hands brace for shock wave.”

“Here it comes.” Chip shouted.

Seaview rocked as the initial maelstrom hit the ship. She moaned as vibrations coursed through her hull, rolling at its force. The surge lasted a number of minutes, dipping her intensely to starboard. Seaview came up quickly, her bulkheads creaked as she steadied, rapidly regaining trim, returning to an even keel.

Pulling himself from the periscope rail, Morton reached for the mic clutching it tightly. “Damage control report.”

“No damage sir, we’re tight and dry.”

<^>

Deep in the interior of Peru nestled among tall trees, snow fell on an old stone Abbey. The ancient structure had been built directly into the side of the mountain, snug against its back wall, a low squat structure sat beside the main. It deceptively hid a well-equipped laboratory. Inside the main Abby, men dressed in dark robes stood gathered around an dark wooden table chanting. As the angelic sound ended all sat, as a single figure remained standing. "Brothers we must depart this place, preparations have been made to evacuate. It seems our plans have been discovered. Once again Nelson and Seaview has come between us and our glorious design."

A light tap sounded at the old wooden doors. "Come."

"Brother, the wagons are loaded and are preparing to leave."

"Thank you brother, we will join you momentarily."

The brother continued, "It will be necessary to seek other means to reach our

objectives. Now is the time to regroup, seek divine assistance, begin again." He bowed his head." May God, grant us the wisdom to defeat our enemies."

“Captain, incoming signal from the USS Constellation sir, it’s scrambled.”

“Unscramble the signal, Sparks.”

“Complements of Admiral Park. They’ve dispatch an A-12 Avenger on route to Peru. It’s a live feed from Constellation flight comms.”

“Pipe it through ship wide.” Crane ordered.

“All hands, standby for comm feed to USS Constellation,” Sparks announced quickly.

The crew listened as the pilots voice cracked over Seaview's com system. “Eagle One to flight, target in sight.”

“Flight to Eagle One on final approach, permission to engage target.”

“Permission granted. Fire when ready.”

“Eagle One starting run now.”

Time stood still as everyone held their breath.

“Target destroyed, repeat, target destroyed.”

Cheers erupted throughout the ship.

“Affirmative Eagle One, return to base.”

“Acknowledged Flight, Eagle One out.”

“Admiral, Admiral Park sends his regards, and safe journey home.” Sparks looked up.

Crane turned to smile at Nelson; shock took his breath. The Admiral lay crumpled on the deck unconscious.

Keying the mic, “Doc, you’re needed in the control room.”

On Doc’s arrival, he assessed the situation. “Frank, bring in a stretcher, we need to get him to sickbay.”

The eyes of every man in the control room watched in stunned silence as their stricken commanding officer was carried out.

“Chip, you have the con.”

“Aye, sir.” Touching Crane’s shoulder, tilting his blond head towards Lee, he lowered his voice. “ Lee?”

“I’ll let you know, when I know.”

The Exec nodded his head seriously, he couldn’t ask for more. Chip was as worried as Lee looked but kept his feelings in check in front of the crew. He patted the Skippers arm. “He’ll be all right.”

“I hope so, Chip. I'll be in sickbay.” Lee grimly looked at his Exec. He turned following closely behind the Doctor and the stretcher.

Morton saw the deep concern in Lee's eyes. "Take as much time as you need." He needn’t reply further, after all, there was nothing left to be said.

<^>

“My cells have been damaged by the initial contact with the organism.” The Admiral perched unsteadily on the edge of the sickbay gurney. His arms tightly wrapped around his upper body, his hands rubbed up and down his chilled limbs in an attempt to keep warm, all the while continuously relating his explanation. “It’s the radiation from the growth agent originally employed on the vine. It enhanced the use of the control wand and in doing so saturated the entire organism. A rare form, a highly radioactive substance, I detected it in my initial investigation of the leafy debris. The vine has been flooded with it; in our original joining, the neural link and the prolonged exposure damaged my cellular structure.” He hesitated, his tone growing quiet as he sifted his fingers through his unruly auburn hair, his voice resonating strain, further attesting to his overall weakness. “Doc never detected the radiation; he lacked the proper equipment.”

Nelson expressed a deep snorting chuckle. “You know,” Tapping his finger to his temple, “I think the creature has developed a distorted sort of conscience.” The Admiral’s humanity was showing again, no matter how hard he tried to disguise it.

Doc stood beside the Skipper while they both listened, considering the implications of the Admiral's words. Jamieson asked. “What do we need to do now, Admiral? You do realize I am severely limited in my capacity to help. There is no known treatment for damaged cells.” He spoke with gravity; he knew Nelson’s life lay on the line.

“Well, to put it bluntly, the organism claims it can repair the damage,” he told them, “but there’s a catch. I’ll need to join with it again in order for it to affect repairs.” No matter how hard Nelson tried, Lee could see the pain within Harry’s eyes.

“What does it want in return for its generous offer?” Lee knew anything that significant came with a hefty price.

“Simply put, it wants its freedom and its anonymity in return for restoring my health. It further promises not to harm Seaview and the crew. ”

“You should have told me sooner.” All Lee’s protective instincts came to the fore. “I could have helped.” Nelson caught the flash of Lee’s unguarded emotion.

The Admiral thought hard for a moment, grimly shaking his head. “I…I couldn’t tell you. You had your hands full without worrying whether I’d collapse at any moment. This can only end one way.”

“No, Admiral.” Crane paused, striving for calm with a deep sigh which allowed himself a moment to curb his building frustration. Regaining his composure the Captain’s face became absent of emotion. A contrast in sharp relief to his eyes, the tension around them bearing a dark distress. He rained in his own anger - it was not directed at the Admiral; it was fueled primarily by his fear of losing his best friend. “I know that look, no, you can’t.” The Captain assessed Nelson’s expression seeing his resolve. Crane knew the Admiral - when he established a strategy he believed in, he became quite intractable on the matter. Lee’s gaze swept over Nelson, dropping into the deep blue of his eyes, there he witnessed his determination to continue. He knew he was grasping. “There must be another way without risking your life.”

“I know of no other way, Lee.”

Jamieson expressed his own apprehension at the thought; he frowned looking down at Nelson. As a doctor he rejected the very idea. “This is a dangerous plan, Admiral. But if you insist on continuing, I want you monitored while this organism joins with you. Only then will I allow you to proceed.” Nelson knew he had no options, knowing in the end necessity would triumph over any protestations. “Do what you deem necessary Doctor, I feel too worn out to argue the point.”

<^>

With Chip poised at his side in the missile room, Crane slipped Corson a clip board covered in calculations, Steve acknowledged the information put forth with a subtle nod. “Can you do it?” Lee questioned.

Corson ran down the numbers, his brow creased in concentration. “Yes, it’s doable. I’ve already rewired the circuits; the equipment’s set to transmit.”

“Chip, I’ll relay through you in the control room, the timing’s crucial.”

Chip nodded. “Understood, Lee.” Crane lowered his eyes to Corson.

“I’ll be ready as well.” Corson confirmed.

Morton’s gaze set on Lee, seeing his concern. “We can do this, we’re ready.” He smiled reassuringly, squeezing the Skipper's shoulder.

“I only hope...I am, Chip.” Crane moved to depart, stepping lightly over the hatch into the corridor, up the companionway and grimly headed for sickbay.

<^>

Admiral Harriman Nelson lay on a gurney at the center of the great ship, encompassed in a warming blanket and surrounded by a tangle of tubes and wires, all traveling to Jamieson’s instruments. Doc continuously checked and rechecked the connections, assuring himself, all the contacts and sensors were secure. He observed and analyzed, noting the dangerous readings. Nelson’s core temperature continued to drop, a point of serious concern. The damaged cells continued to corrupt at a greatly accelerated rate. With no treatment or cure the Admirals body persisted in a state of steady decline. Drugs and support were all medical science could offer. Jamieson knew full well Nelson’s entire system would eventually fail, and soon.

Nelson discerned his and Seaview’s definitive salvation lay within the vine’s capabilities, the source of the original threat. An accord had been set forth, the lives of his crew and ship, the reversal of the damage, in return, the absolute secrecy regarding the organism’s existence and location. No one knew for certain, not even Nelson, if the damage could be reversed.

“You’re just going to let that thing engulf you?” Crane probed, not hiding his alarm any longer. Lee glanced down, their eyes locking briefly. Nelson had been changed by the organism, he could see the effect; his thoughts appeared fractured, distracted in some way. Crane couldn’t know of the constant presence that persisted in Nelsons mind, dividing his very thought in two.

Crane asked, “Could it actually repair your cells, and why trust it to do so?’ Crane knew Nelson had the exact doubts and yet he would brave the fear to save lives.

“I don’t know if it’s capable of its claim, but as Jamieson pointed out earlier there is no known treatment or cure for damaged cells.” His palm wiped over his forehead. “I have to try.” In every situation the Admiral continued to face challenges with a calm courage. Nelson attempted to control any and all situations. But this…this was past extreme, the situation having no such control; it could kill him as easily as repair the damage.

“Don’t interfere, promise me that, Lee. This needs to be done, it’s that simple.” Crane considered Nelson’s intensity, hearing the Admiral’s inflection and his growing anxiety. The Captain watched the emotions in Nelson's expression as fear and panic chased each other across the Admiral's features, finally settling on determination." I can save the ship, the crew from certain death; in addition, if it can repair my cells, it would be a bonus. It’s a risk, a calculated one, I know - but one I must take.”

“How will we know if it’s working? That thing could be killing you. We’d never know.” Crane’s fists clinched as he paced around the gurney; suddenly lost was his ability to stand still.

“You do know this is shear madness trusting that thing.” Worriedly he stopped, raking his hair back from his forehead with his hand, his long fingers trailing through his short dark locks, a reaction born of complete and utter frustration. “There could be another way; scientists…other countries…could help!” Lee’s own temper erupting from pure exhaustion plus his inability to control events, feeling totally helpless. It only added to the weight of an intolerable situation.

“There’s no time, Lee. We must give this a chance. Jamieson will continually monitor my vitals during the connection.” Frustration replaced Nelson’s perceived calm; a flash of anger escaped, it shot through the air. “This is, the only way!” Impatient petulance now betrayed in his tone, he needed to proceed while he retained marginal control of his mind. None of his anger was focused at Lee, but at the impossible conditions.

“Doc, how can you condone this?” The Captain continued to grasp. He needed to voice his objections for all that it accomplished. Nelson noticed the change in Crane’s demeanor, Lee’s final acquiescence, but he also knew what it cost the Captain.

“I see no other alternative, Captain. I don’t like it either but the Admiral is correct, there happens to be no other reasonable options.” Jamieson’s hands rubbed over his tired eyes, he realized all this led nowhere; it only served to fuel their own growing frustration.

“Yes, I’m beginning to realize that, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” The Captain dropped his head. “We could lose you.” Crane struggled with a helpless look, directing it at Nelson. He fought with the real possibility; he could lose his best friend. That thought he tried to evade, violently he pushed it aside. Time, as the Admiral had said, was not on their side.

“Lee.” His deep blue eyes stared upward; he witnessed Crane’s internal struggle, watching the outward signs as Lee’s fists clenched, and his arm muscles tightened. Nelson began to plead his own case. “I understand how you feel, but, I’m dead anyway, don’t you see that. I have nothing to lose.” Nelson appealed, his intense expression was as unmistakable as his statement; he bore into Lee as if he could read the younger man’s thoughts. “Clearly, I have no choice, as difficult as that thought is to consider, I know you must see that too.”

Lee noticing for the first time that Nelson was barely holding it together; he chose not to pursue his argument. Crane beheld his own fears briefly reflected in the Admiral’s face; its force slid away rapidly, vanishing into the tense atmosphere.

Lee stood still evaluating his jumbled emotions, doubt casting a shadow in his eyes. ‘Harry requires my strength to draw on, not my overwhelming opposition, this antagonism is hurting us both. I need to lend him support, trust Harry’s conviction in his resolve.’ He nodded his head, accepting the Admiral’s design, trusting in its success. His voice suddenly became calm, holding in his intensity. “I’ll be right here, whatever happens.” Lee assured him ruefully. Matching his actions to his spoken words, he reached forward squeezing Harry’s shoulder.

“I have every confidence that you will,” Nelson acknowledging Lee’s accession. The slightest hint of a smile crossed the Admiral’s lips, gently patting Crane’s outstretched arm. Lee returned the gesture, wishing there was more he could do.

Looking past the Captain, the Admiral addressed the doctor. “Doc, are you ready?”

“Yes, Admiral, as ready as I can be. I still don’t like this; however, I see no other course of action.” Doc complied reluctantly with the request.

“Objection noted, Doctor.” Nelson declared, grimly satisfied. “Shall we get on with it then.” With acute misgivings, they proceeded.

Nelson stilled himself, established the appropriate state of mind, he mentally summoned the vine. The atmosphere in the room, if anything, it thickened with additional strain, becoming muted and silent as they waited. The vegetation appeared as if on cue. No one, including the creature, truly understood the indefinable connection shared by Nelson and the creature.

It was permitted to engulf the Admiral, wrapping itself tightly around Nelson’s form, stopping short of suffocation. Strands encircled tightly around his right wrist, immobilizing the appendage, while a single vine punctured the dermal layers of Nelson’s exposed skin, revealing the thick vein below. Easing deep into the hollow, it was like thread through the eye of a needle. At the base of his skull the direct neural link was reestablished.

“Doc, what’s it doing, it’s going to kill him?” Crane stepped towards Nelson, Lee’s words cut with distressed agitation at the vines aggressive contact, invading the Admiral’s already damaged body.

Nelson’s eyes glazed, falling endlessly into that void. Suddenly all motion slowed around him. He floated in a sea of hues, alighting finally on a surface populated with a writhing bed of interlocking green vines.

While the vine ensnared Nelson, Crane quietly retreated, stepping back to take up the mic. His eyes never shifted their focus from Nelson. He palmed the communications device, keying the control room, “Chip, are we set?”

“Yes, sir, we’re ready here, just say the word, Skipper.”

“Turn all sensor equipment off. Set the trap.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

In the missile room, Dr. Stephen Corson set the dials of his audio equipment to full, with the exterior nodes fastened to the haul. Sound waves encircled the ship with an ultra-high frequency bubble. Seaview’s outer surface became awash with a halo of unheard sound. When the creature made to escape, sound waves would trap and disrupt any solid matter, disintegrating the organism centimeters above Seaview’s outer skin.

“Trap’s set, Skipper.”

“Very well.”

Crane replaced the mic. He continued to shadow the corner of sickbay; his attention never strayed from the spectacle playing out in front of him.

In Nelson’s mind, a shimmer of mist solidified before him, coalescing into the guise of Lee Crane. “Well, Admiral, have you come to finalize our agreement?”

“Yes…Yes.” Sensing how difficult it was to think, the damage noticeably impairing his cognitive function. “I have, provided you are capable of executing your claim, of restoring my cell structure to its original function.

“It’s an inadequate system, many flaws, nevertheless – yes. Admiral, we can repair the damage returning it to its original pattern. We require you to honor our original agreement in exchange. You must -- release us.”

“You won’t interfere with my ship and crew as long as we leave you in peace?” Nelson’s voice betrayed his apprehension, quite uncertain of the initial agreement.

“Yes, Admiral, as long as we are permitted to depart in peace. We will not interfere with human affairs; you, however, must not disclose knowledge of our existence.”

“Yes, yes, agreed.” His voice grew with anger. Knowing he had no other choice but to agree and dearly wishing for an alternative to this madness.

“Than we shall begin.”

A wave of searing white pain swept through Nelson’s captive body. It started in his head, migrating swiftly to encompass his entire form, traveling through his veins as though seeking exit through his limbs. The pattern it took on resembled fragments of lightning branching outward. His pulse raced, heart pounded against his chest, threatening escape through his ribs. Beads of sweat formed over his skin as his body convulsed. It terminated in uncontrollable tremors, gradually subsiding until he lay still.

“What’s happening?” The tension increasingly evident in Crane’s voice.

“Captain…Lee.” Jamieson urged. “We need to give this a chance -- for Nelson’s sake,” in an attempt to convince himself as well as the Captain. Jamieson’s attention never wavered from his instruments and monitors, continually registering the bizarrely altered vitals when suddenly they began to stabilize.

“I ---I can’t be certain, yes, his vitals are changing, settling into a normal range.”

“It’s working?” Lee stared at the monitors in total disbelief.

“Yes, I believe so.” Jamieson heaved a visible sigh of relief.

“Look the creature’s withdrawing.” Crane watched suspiciously as the organism abated, disengaging from its victim, a shudder of reaction pulsated through the Admiral's body. The vegetation decreased in size as it departed, eventually disappearing.

A harsh gasp filled the quiet expectant space. Nelson’s eyes flickered open darting between Crane and Jamieson. Nelson’s initial words came as an almost inarticulate sound. “What happened?” His voice hoarse, barely a whisper.

“Admiral, it seems to have worked. All your functions are within a normal range again,” replied Jamieson’s weary voice. Jamieson moved in for a closer examination of his patient.

Nelson struggled to raise his head without success. He weakly collapsed back into the pillow: his breath labored, causing his chest to heave from the exertion.

“Admiral, you need to lay still.” Jamieson chided.

“You all right.” Lee asked uneasily.

“Yes, I think so.” Nelson managed raggedly, nodding, gathering his scattered senses.

The Admiral's eyes scanned around the room. “Where’s the organism?”

“It withdrew from you, and simply vanished as before.” Crane stated, throwing Jamieson an anxious look.

In the background a barely audible tinkling could be heard. It trailed lightly over the exterior of the ship. Its sound akin to tiny particles of metal dancing across the hull, traveling unevenly aft, sending an almost imperceptible rhythm through Seaview. No one even knew what had transpired, the light sound blended in with the ever present thrum of Seaview's engines.

Down in the missile room Steve Corson understood the implications of the sound registering on his instruments as a crackle, knowing that noise was a direct result of the vine creature falling into a well-planned trap, disseminating its matter and energy. Corson then disengaged his device.

Crane looked down at Nelson. “Do you remember anything?”

Dragging in a ragged breath, he scrambled for the elusive memory. His thoughts muddled together. He reached for the pieces, but as before they simply slipped away, all shattering into fragments, like shards of broken glass. His throat issued a hoarse chuckle. “Ah.” Nelson reached again helplessly for a shred of tenuous recall. “Can’t quite hold the pieces together. Last thing I remember is an intense pain through my head, then waking up here. Lee.” Clearing his dry throat, he regarded Crane seriously. “Do a complete sweep of the ship; we need to prove conclusively it has departed Seaview.”

“It's gone.” Nelson didn't pick up on Crane's certainty.

“That may be for the best, Lee. If we are unaware of its location, we can’t report its whereabouts or for that matter, its very existence.” Nelson paused, eyes unfocused, searching for conformation, any remnants of contact. Gone from his mind was the void and the presence that stared back at him from the darkness. His thoughts were his own again. A wave of relief passed through him. His mind sharpened and the space around him cleared. His stomach no longer threatened rebellion. His muscles relaxed. Taking a deep breath, he felt reassured. The intelligence that had threatened Seaview had departed.

Jamieson quietly stepped in. “Gentlemen, you can discuss this further after the Admiral has rested. Captain.”

“Doc I’m fine.” Nelson strained to move. Jamieson, with a light touch of his hand eased the Admiral’s shoulders back down. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Finding that raising from the gurney a considerable struggle, he resigned himself to the inescapable conclusion. “Apparently nowhere.” Lifting a questioning sandy eyebrow, he glared at the doctor.

“That’s right, you aren’t!” Jamieson exclaimed with conviction, delighted at his hard won victory. “Not until I have the opportunity to examine you thoroughly. In addition, you need proper rest.”

“Lee, you know what to do, use the detector in my lab.” Nelson shot a look at the Doctor, his expression betrayed annoyance at his unwavering attitude.

“Captain.” Jamieson inclined his head towards the exit and back to Crane, with a distinct air of command.” You can check on the Admiral later.”

“Admiral I’ll report back after we’ve completed a sweep of the entire boat.” Nodding his head, he acknowledged Doc’s complete authority over sickbay as he exited. “Okay, Doc. I’m leaving.”

Before returning to sickbay later in the evening, the Captain had a team search the entire boat for the radiation signature of the creature. The team reported no signature matching that type of radiation had been detected.

<^>

Crane made a quick stop in the control room. As he entered, he found Chip Morton on duty. He assured Chip and the crew that the Admiral would recover and to confirm the strange plant creature had been destroyed.

The Captain, in the best interest of the boat and moral, proceeded to do a walk about the boat, this would serve to answer the crews many questions, putting their minds at ease and assure himself that all was in order. Completely aware that he would not find anything amiss. Knowing full well if there had been a problem he would have been immediately notified. The turn around the boat had been for support and to elevate the general mood of the entire crew.

<^>

“You’re looking much better than when I saw you last.” Crane visibly relieved, he produced one of his sunniest smiles. The grin came easily; the fear that had been displayed in the Captain’s eyes had disappeared, replaced with light and relief. His smile acted as a balm to Nelson’s very spirit, proving to him their world was peaceful and whole once more.

“I’m beginning to feel more like myself again.” The vague voices and blurred focus were absent. He found it easy to return Lee’s smile warming his own pale features. The Admiral’s aura continued to feel fragile to Lee but not fractured as before.

"Admiral," Crane hesitated at his question. "What was it like being connected to the creatures mind?"

Nelson's eye stared at mid distance for a few seconds, lifting his eyes upward, "It was like being caught in a nightmare, one that wouldn't release me." Shaking off the disturbing sensation, completely changing the subject. His eyes came up looking directly at the Captain. “Did you find any evidence of the creature, Lee?”

“No, none at all.” Crane afforded him a deliberate sincerity, as if he wasn’t revealing the entire story.

“I didn’t think you would, but we had to be certain. The creature found its own way off Seaview; after all, it doesn’t wish to be found or enslaved.” A confidence could be detected coming from Nelson.

“I doubt we will ever see it again.” For Crane, never would have been too soon. He had had enough of all types of vegetation for the foreseeable future. However, he knew with certainty it to be gone; positive it had died in the ultra-high frequency trap. Now he needed to inform the Admiral.

Nelson knew Lee too well, enough to know the Captain happened to be holding back information. “Lee, what aren’t you telling me? What did you do? And why are you so positive we aren’t going to encounter that creature in the future?” Nelson accorded him a long incisive look.

"What do you mean, what did I do?" Crane countered with feigned innocence.

"Well, if you must know I simply added two and two together."

"Yeah, and came up with five."

"Does it really matter how I know you've been up to something, Captain," his deep blue eyes, regarded him. "I'm right about this, you may as well come clean." Nelson emphasized the formal, 'Captain.' in hopes it would shake the truth lose.

Crane, with a smirk, "And you always have the answer, I suppose."

Nelson produce a devilish smile. "That's why I'm the Admiral."

“You always could read me like a book.” Crane continued definitively.

“Yes.” He readily agreed. “Well?” Nelson urged Lee on.

“Well, Steve and I devised a plan to eliminate the creature. And before you say it, we couldn’t tell you. Your position had been compromised by the mental connection with the vine,” he reminded Nelson.

“Okay, Lee, I understand and furthermore I agree. Now, tell me what you did?” The Admiral persisted, attempting to mask his impatience with little success.

Under Nelson's gruff manner, Lee could always glimpse a degree of pride in the Admiral's face. It prompted him to carry on. “It was Dr. Corson’s idea; he used the nodes on the exterior of the ship to create an ultra-high frequency sound bubble around the Seaview. While the thing was occupied with you. In its distraction we set the trap in motion. When it attempted to escape Seaview, it encountered the bubble we created, ensnaring the entity and killing it.” Lee paused taking a breath. Calmly he pressed on. “I couldn’t allow it to escape, it had killed two men. It needed to be stopped.” Crane’s eyes intensified as he offered the scenario.

“I find it hard to believe you played such a minor role.” Nelson knew how modest his Captain could be, rarely taking credit for the significant part he played in any action. Usually sloughing off any praise that slid his way.

With a sheepish grin, the one Nelson knew so well, Lee confessed. “Well, I worked out the calculations to determine the frequency we would have to achieve to destroy the creature. Steve, did his part by rewiring the circuitry to transmit instead of receive. Chip acted as relay, coordinating the timing from the control room.” Crane admitted wryly, “You might say it was a joint effort.”

“I thought as much, go on. How did you arrive at the correct frequency.?”

“We had a log of the signals used to direct the creature's actions: in addition, we had the control wand that had been taken from Moran; between the tape Sparks had run on the intercepted signal and the wand. I calculated the correct frequency the static bubble needed to achieve when it surrounded the ship. We hoped that that level of sound would dissemble the vine, rendering it incapacitated or in this case dead.”

“That’s brilliant Lee. I can always count on your cool head and logic to step in and resolve a situation. Good lad!" Adding emphases to his praise. “I congratulate you both? I must say again, well done.” Nelson practically beamed at his friend. Crane's abilities were by no means a surprise. The Captain could always rise to the occasion resolving any obstacle thrown in his path.

“Oh, Steve will be by later. You can deliver that message in person.” Providing Nelson a quelling smile.

“I’ll do that lad, I’ll just do that.”

“Well, Admiral, I have a ship to run and reports to write. It’s been one hell of a couple of days, destroying the vine and regaining control of the A4 system.”

“Lee, stay for a moment longer I want to talk to you.” Nelson didn’t know how to start; it wasn’t something you blurted out. “I want you to know, I’m sorry, for what you – and the crew had to endure…” His voice trailed off not knowing how to continue. “I saw no alternative at the end; having the creature repair the damage presented the only solution. I see that now and at the time. It seemed important, to hold back the entire truth. I must say I found it difficult to deceive you that way. I want to apologize for my deception.” Nelson was aware of Crane’s difficulty, so close to losing his closest friend, having been there himself many times.

“Thankfully we succeeded and you’re on your way to recovery.” Crane set his gaze to the deck, not able to meet the Admiral’s eyes, having difficulty with the feeling Nelson's words engendered. He couldn’t warrant Nelson to witness the fervent expression in his deep bright caring eyes.

“I must admit I was doubtful at times myself. I was unsure of my own reasoning or lack thereof…couldn’t think straight. Your concern as well as your hesitation were well founded, Lee,” He confessed, sighing deeply.

“Well, Admiral, our lives are seldom easy or boring. All things considered.” Looking up sharply deliberately holding Nelson’s attention, “I’d rather serve aboard Seaview with all her dangers then just going through the motions elsewhere.

“There are times when boring would sound appealing.”

“Where’s the adventure in that?” Crane said knowing full well, his boss to be an adrenalin junkie similar to himself - two of a kind. They’d both miss the rush of exploration, and the sheer excitement of the journey.

“Lee, I’ll take that as a compliment to Seaview and her crew." Nelson’s eyes shown with pride at the Captains statement of his true feelings, the trust and loyalty he placed in both him and Seaview.

“I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” They both smiled breaking into a short burst of laughter, relieving the tension.

“No, no… I’ll admit never boring.” Nelson spoke first.

“Well, I’ll be going before Jamieson exerts his authority and throws me out, see you in the morning, Admiral.”

“All right, Lee, get some rest. You’ve earned it”

Touching Nelson’s shoulder he said in a low tone. “Thanks. It’s good to have you back, Harry.”

Nelson snorted, tapping his finger to his head. “It’s good to be anywhere.”

Crane departed sickbay, grateful they had survived another mission, knowing full well very few people would ever know or care about what had really happened aboard Seaview off the coast of Peru.

<^>

The Captain rarely became introspective but this mission…recent events had edged a touch too close for his comfort. Lee concluded upon reflection as he walked through the corridors of Seaview to his cabin. He noted with certainty, Seaview’s crew would face countless dangers in the future, by forces beyond their control. Never knowing what’s out there and where it would come from next, always assuming that there are threats awaiting them. Seaview sailed through at times some dangerous waters, and more often than not, Lee would occasionally wonder if it all had truly occurred or simply been a terrible nightmare.

The End

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