A Third Season story, written for the “Abandoned” picture challenge

 

Dedicated to the memory of our beloved Robert Dowdell aka, Lt Cdr Chip Morton.

Smooth sailing Commander, we’ll miss you.

 

The Temptation

 

by Lynn

 

 

Chapter One

 

Admiral Harriman Nelson’s eyes narrowed as he read the reports that accompanied the official invitation of the Canadian government to investigate strange and unexplained noises in the Arctic Ocean.  A thorough investigation had been rendered under the very efficient Canadian Oceanographers League as well the Coast Guard and other government agencies.  In addition, US scientists were invited to review the data in the hopes of not only explaining the strange pings and beeps coming from the area, but also the fact that the noises were scaring away fish and mammals from the region.  The local natives were extremely concerned about their lack of game, while the authorities suspected illegal activity was at the root of the problem.  Perhaps some type of sonar equipment to keep ocean life away from illegal mining operations; or perhaps even an unidentified country testing new equipment on a submarine; no one knew for sure, but the pings and beeps had been verified and the source had to be identified for the national security of both Canada and the US.  With the means of both governments’ military and scientific assets unable to produce the answer for the unexplained noises emanating from the ocean floor, Seaview was being called upon to investigate with her state of the art detection equipment.

 

The large mahogany desk in his office was covered with underwater photos, reports, and cassette tapes; all seeking to add a piece of the puzzle to the overall picture.  Harry’s bottom lip pursed as his brow furled while silently brainstorming possible reasons for the sounds and corresponding animal behaviors.  His silent contemplation was interrupted, however, when his intercom came to life.

 

“Admiral, Captain Crane is here now.”

 

“Very well, Angie, send him right in,” Harry replied, depressing the talk button as he continued to study a graph on the subject, until the door opened garnering his full attention as Admiral Nelson greeted his guest, Seaview’s Master and Commander, Captain Lee Crane.

 

“Good morning, Admiral.”

 

“Good morning, Lee.  Come in,” Harry invited with a nod to the guest chair.

 

“Looks like you’ve received the packet from the Canadian Marine Biology Society,” Lee noted with a raised eyebrow and ready to dig into the evidence himself. *

 

“Hmmm, yes,” Harry said, looking down at one photo in particular and nodding.  “I’m surprised at the amount of information they’ve acquired.  Apparently, they’ve gathered a lot of facts, just not the source of the problem,” he replied, adding eye contact on his last statement.  “Let’s move this to the conference room and get started,” he suggested, standing and gathering the photos, graphs, and reports together.

 

“Aye Sir.  Looks like we ought to get the coffee pot going, there’s a lot to go over,” Lee commented with a small smile.

 

“Hmmm,” Harry replied distractedly, far too engaged in the project to stop for more than changing locations for the purpose of obtaining more room to spread out.

 

* * * * *

 

Nearly every corner of the conference room table was covered with reports, charts, graphs, and notes as Admiral Nelson and Captain Crane poured over the data.  Empty coffee mugs sat as paper weights holding the edges in place of several sea charts rolled out with marks of interest penned in red ink, joining the organized chaos of data.

 

“Well, it looks to me that the Canadian MBS* did a thorough job,” Harry said, sitting back and expelling a breath with a shake of his head in contemplation.  “They asked all the right questions and followed up on every possible lead,” he complimented, tossing his pencil onto the table.

 

“But we’re still no closer to an answer,” Lee replied, sitting back as well, having spent the last three hours pouring over the data and in serious need of a break.

 

“The only thing left to do is an on-site investigation.”

 

“I agree, Sir.  Perhaps, our scanning equipment can pick up on something they missed,” Crane offered, knowing that their equipment was more than the “latest” in submarine technology, some were proprietary to Seaview and not yet available to marine research vessels.

 

“I’d like to move on this,” Harry said, picking his pencil up and casually tapping the eraser end on the table as he spoke. 

 

“We could add this to the Plankton Project voyage in three weeks,” Lee suggested, noting that geographically it made sense.

 

Harry pursed his bottom lip in thought.  “No, I’m inclined to give this top priority.  There’s a mystery here that is affecting sea life, not to mention the subsistence of several communities.  Let’s get on this while the iron is hot.  I want to set sail in four days; we’ll investigate the pings and then hit the Plankton Project on our way back.”

 

Lee raised an eyebrow at the logistics involved, but nodded in agreement.  “I’ll get Chip right on it,” he said standing.  “But the tides will be more favorable in three days,” he noted, demonstrating his attention to detail to keep track of such things even when Seaview was in port.

 

Harry nodded, “Very well, Lee,” he agreed, standing and collecting the plethora of paperwork currently strewn across the table.

 

“Aye Sir,” Seaview’s captain replied, heading out the door with a list of tasks to complete in order to shove off in three days.

 

Harry stopped his gathering to pick up a chart showing the concentration of the mysterious pings, studying it a moment before circling an area where the pings seemed to be in the strongest concentration.  This would be their starting point, he decided, placing the chart on top of his pile to brief Seaview’s Command Team later.

 

It’s going to be a very busy three days, he noted silently, tucking the reports under his arm and heading to his office to get the ball rolling from his end.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee took the familiar rungs down the ladder, skipping the last three rungs and hopping deftly to the deck below, before turning to scan the near-empty Control Room as Seaview rested in her underground sub pen.

 

“Good afternoon, Sir,” Sanders greeted, currently on watch as the Security Detail while in port. 

 

“Afternoon, Phil.  Is Mr. Morton aft?”

 

“Aye Sir, in the Missile Room overseeing the new Deep Water Detection equipment.”

 

“Very well,” Lee replied with an easy smile and headed aft, stepping over the knee-knocker hatch and heading through Seaview’s corridors toward the Missile Room. 

 

As he walked, he resisted running a hand on the bulkhead walls of his beloved Seaview.  She was in port and silent at present, but always alive in his eyes.  Even without the engines purring under his feet, he could feel her strength, ready to sail into action; often deploying with only days’ notice.  She was every captain’s dream, and his privilege to command.  He never lost sight of that knowledge, even after three years commanding the wonder vessel.

 

Seaview’s corridors were semi-dark, it was late in the day and his efficient Executive Officer had managed to prep the boat for deployment in record time.  Only a few Details were aboard at present finishing rather routine maintenance projects, and the fresh food stores weren’t scheduled for loading until tomorrow morning.

 

The Missile Room hatch was just ahead, and even in port it was sealed closed, the habits of safe submarining well ingrained in Seaview’s crew.  Lee turned the wheel and opened the hatch as the sound of Chip’s instructions to the loading detail reached him, even before visually spotting the blond XO guiding the Deep Water Detection equipment to its position near the winch.

 

“Very well, men.  Secure the equipment,” Chip ordered, looking up and spotting Lee as he stepped over the aft hatch.  “And make sure it’s good and tight.  You know how the Skipper likes to rattle things with his Angles and Dangles,” he added straight-faced.

 

The steps of Lee’s oxford shoes alerted the detail of their captain’s presence as the men chuckled at the XO’s deadpan humor.  Lee smiled and met Chip at the control panel alongside the vertical dive hatch, folding his arms and watching the detail bolt the equipment into place.

 

“So, how’s it looking?  Has all the equipment been loaded?” Lee asked, losing his smile to get down to business, but still relaxed in his approach.

 

“This is the last of it,” he replied with a quick glance at his watch.  “We’ll be done here within a half hour.”

 

“Good,” he noted, before furling his brow slightly.  “Temperature Control is a little off in here,” he said, noting the sudden cool feel of the air in the Missile Room.

 

“I noticed that earlier.  I’ve already scheduled a detail to adjust it tomorrow.”

 

“Very well.  Are you headed out soon?” Lee asked, moving easily from boat business to casual conversation.

 

“As soon as we’re done here and I clear the messages on my desk,” Chip replied, fully intending to get his job done, but not losing sight of the fact that he only had two more nights in port with his beautiful wife before embarking on a three-week cruise to the frigid waters of the Arctic Ocean.

 

“Good,” Lee answered approvingly; he had plans himself and while he rarely dated the night before shoving off, he was eager for the dinner Kristin was preparing for him tonight.  They had been dating for the last several months and he was truly enjoying her company.  Her plans for an intimate dinner for two sounded just about right before heading out on their next cruise; the fact that she had offered to prepare the meal at his house had invoked a smile several times today.  “See you in the morning,” he added, stepping away and leaving the final details to his able first officer and crew.

 

Chip nodded his reply before turning his full attention back to the detail, while momentarily wondering if the rest of the boat was as chilly as it was here in the Missile Room.

 

* * * * *

 

A chilly breeze moved through the house, circling the perimeter of the living room before moving decisively up the stairs.  The icy misty fog stopped at the bedroom before seeping under the doorway to enter the room where the officer lay in bed, swirling over the top of the sleeping man and invoking a slight shudder as the temperature in the room dropped.  The fog glowed eerily, hesitating before slowly spiraling down to just above his forehead and making a connection.  The officer expelled a breath; the intrusion noted, though not enough to wake him as the fog spoke in whispery breaths.  A moan was followed by a quick toss of his head, until the woman sleeping beside him shifted.  She turned over, splaying a hand across his bare chest and shivering at the newly chilled air as he drew her closer in the crook of his arm.  Immediately, the swirling fog pulled back, severing the link; it carried a message for the officer alone, but it had connected long enough to know that he would be on board the submarine two nights hence. 

 

Quickly, the fog retreated, lest its presence be made known; retracing its steps back under the crack of the door; down the staircase; through the living room; and finally, out the window, where it traveled across the beach and dissipated into the night sky over the breaking waves of the Pacific Ocean. 

 

* * * * *

 

Lee glanced down at his watch, before reaching for the phone.

 

“Admiral Nelson’s office,” Angie replied; the petite brunette was ever the professional, juggling her responsibilities as Nelson’s Personal Assistant with her duties of keeping the Institute Boat afloat while the Admiral was away at sea.  It was her efficiency that gave the admiral the freedom to run the large Institute while not compromising his ability to partake in Seaview’s missions at sea.

 

“Good morning, Angie.  Is the Admiral available?  I have a matter I’d like to discuss with him.”

 

“I believe so, Lee.  One moment,” she said, putting him on hold as Lee glanced down at the new data before him, pursing his bottom lip in thought until her chipper voice returned.  “Yes, Lee, the Admiral can see you now.”

 

“Very well, I’ll be right there,” he replied, hanging up and standing as he gathered the papers, charts and map.  He nestled them under his arm and headed for the door, anxious to see what Harry thought of this new information, and walking with resolve to Harry’s office.

 

“Go right in, Lee, he’s expecting you,” Angie advised, the two had long-since been on a first name basis, even though she always used his title in front of other Institute employees.

 

Lee nodded and smiled politely, but walked forward with his mind clearly on the impromptu meeting.  The large paneled door was left ajar as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

 

“Good morning, Admiral,” he greeted.

 

Harry’s desk was loaded with stacks of paperwork, no doubt prioritized for his attention as he worked to clear his desk before departing on the voyage.

 

“Good morning, Lee,” he returned, raising his head to give Seaview’s captain his full attention.

 

“Sir, I was wondering if you had seen this,” he said, moving alongside Harry’s desk and laying the map over the top of his desk as Harry moved papers out of the way to accommodate him.

 

The sea map was familiar; indeed, it was the same one denoting the coordinates for the mysterious pings reported by various boats and officials.  The circle he had drawn was clearly visible, denoting a high concentration of reports and was the first area he had wanted to explore.  Lee placed a second map to the side; it was similar, except that this map contained data regarding the latest in sub-marine quake activity.

 

“It would appear that there was a major quake in the region,” Lee pointed out, as Harry nodded, his eyes already accessing and gathering that fact for himself.  “And look Sir,” he continued, circling the date, “It predates the earliest reports by only one week.”

 

Harry’s brow sharpened as he looked over the data on both maps, before a small half-smile broke out.

 

“You’re right, Lee.  Of course, we can’t prove a correlation at this point, but the timing does seem to be very coincidental, and certainly worth considering,” he added sitting back.

 

“I’m not sure what it means,” Lee said, sitting on the edge of Harry’s desk while thoughtfully considering his next words, “but perhaps some old sonar equipment was unearthed in the seaquake, and began transmitting again,” he postulated with a shrug.

 

“But powered by what source?” Harry questioned with a raised brow.

 

Lee shook his head and chuckled.  “I’m afraid we’re back to where we started… a mystery,” he said, standing and collecting his maps.  “All I know is that we need to be prepared for seismic activity.”

 

“I agree, I guess the rest will have to wait until we get there,” the Admiral added with a smile that said he loved a good mystery, and Lee knew that he loved solving them even more.

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee agreed amicably. 

 

“How are preparations coming?”

 

“Chip’s overseeing the last of the supplies as we speak.  The crew is ready to report tomorrow morning and our shove off time is still on schedule for 1400 hours.”

 

“Excellent,” Harry said, rearranging his paperwork back in front of him and reaching for his pen as Lee turned to leave.  “Oh, and Captain,” he added, “nice work on the seismic report.”

 

Lee nodded at the compliment, offering a small smile in return.  “Thank you, Sir,” before heading out of Harry’s office and pulling the door behind him. 

 

Angie looked up from her desk and smiled, acknowledging his presence professionally.

 

“Thanks, Angie,” he replied returning her smile, heading back to his own office through the hallway that led to the other side of the building, where his own corner office was located.  A soft wisp of cool air rushed by him as Lee looked up, noting an air conditioning vent nearby and dismissing the chilly air that had suddenly filled the hallway.

 

* * * * *

 

“How are preparations coming?” Lee asked his Executive Officer, standing on Seaview’s dock and watching as the overhead crane lowered a large crate into the open deck to the missile room below.

 

“Sharkey’s kept everyone on task,” Chip replied, watching the process, but leaving the official duty to Seaview’s capable Chief of the Boat.  “This is the last of the stores; we’ve got a detail below stowing them.”

 

“Great.  Carry on, Mr. Morton.  I think I’ll take a little walk below,” he said as Chip nodded, knowing Lee was going to walk the boat from stem to stern to ascertain for himself Seaview’s readiness for deployment.

 

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” Chip replied, looking down at his clipboard and checking off the last crate when he felt a brush of cool breeze and turned sharply.  The coolness lingered for only a moment before he mentally shrugged it off and headed for the ladder to inspect Seaview’s stores.

 

Chapter Two

 

 

“What?” he questioned, tossing his head and trying to hear the voice more clearly, but the garbled voice was hard to hear.  Yet, somehow, he knew it wanted something from him. 

 

His cabin in Officer’s Country normally pitch black except for the small stream of light under his door, was strangely illuminated with a hazy glow beside his bunk.  The haze wisped around in odd swirls, beckoning him to hear as the voice spoke again.  Its whispers were disturbing, causing his head to toss in an uncomfortable attempt to break free.  He was subject to its call as it whispered something important; something he must do. 

 

The officer moaned at the heaviness in the air as the haze exerted its influence in pulses, downloading instructions without his consent.  He tossed his head again, trying to fight off the barrage of information forced upon him, but the whispers were strong and overwhelming.  Perspiration beaded on his forehead; his subconscious warring with the voice to obey its command.  Finally, the voice’s influence was overwhelming as his mind accepted its new duty.  His weary mind couldn’t fight any longer, even though he knew the whispers were demanding he betray the trust given to him, a trust he had earned over the years.  However, he could no longer fight either the strength of the voice or the invasion of his mind and will.  He tossed his head again, unable to waken as the haze persisted until the constant whispers filled him with more information than he could handle; more than he could take.  Finally, when his distress had reached an apex of pain and confusion, the whispers stopped and the haze disappeared. 

 

He took a deep breath, his head tossing one more time before the whispers turned to nothing more than a bad dream that faded instantly as his slumber returned to its normal cycle.  A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as the last evidence of his ordeal disappeared into a wet pool on his pillow, repeating the same pattern of the last three nights, with each night’s visit becoming stronger and more distressing the closer they got to their destination. 

 

In the morning he would wake, and as with the other nights, would remember nothing of the whispers that plagued his sleep.  And though he woke wearier with each passing day, he remained unaware of the instructions the whispers demanded; nevertheless, it was hidden deep inside of him, ready to be enacted at the right time.

 

* * * * *

 

“Good morning, Chip,” Lee greeted as he entered the Wardroom for breakfast. 

 

“Good morning,” the blond replied, watching as Lee headed straight for the buffet, dishing out a light breakfast, even for Lee Crane, then taking it back to the table and sitting down with a sigh.

 

“Have a rough night?” Chip asked with a raised eyebrow, noticing his tired countenance and the fact that he was nearly twenty minutes late for breakfast this morning.

 

“What makes you say that?” Lee asked, forking his scrambled eggs and ignoring the smirk from across the table.  “Just moving a little slower this morning, that’s all.”

 

“Really?” Chip asked sardonically, in over-played disbelief.

 

Lee continued to ignore his best friend as the steward filled his coffee cup.  “Thanks, Randy,” he offered politely and took a long sip of the steaming brew, purposefully ignoring Chip’s last playfully sarcastic remark.  Chip’s signature emotionless face greeted him from across the table as he intentionally ignored the explanation his first officer was attempting to goad out of him.

 

“Couldn’t be because you spent half the night helping the Dog Watch sort out a minor maintenance detail in the Circuitry Room?” Chip probed, demonstrating once again his uncanny awareness of the going’s on aboard the sub.

 

Lee’s straight face broke a smile, having invoked the response he was going for, by forcing Chip to spill what he knew.

 

“Firstly, for your information, mother,” he said, adding the last word quite facetiously, “I only held the flashlight for Marcos, and it was no more than forty minutes; hardly all night,” he added with a smirk.  “And secondly, I’m the Captain of this sub and I’ll stay up as long as I damn well please,” the last added with a smile to show he wasn’t really angry, just meeting Chip’s playful sarcasm with his own.

 

Chip looked across the table, merely raising an eyebrow to indicate that he wasn’t letting Lee off the hook that easily.

 

“Besides,” Lee continued, “I was up hours ago; already been to the Control Room and signed off on the log book; on my third cup of coffee; and by the way, you were still sawing logs when I passed by your cabin this morning,” he said, adding his own playful jab at his executive officer/best friend.

 

Chip’s unreadable command face held out for only a few seconds more, before he relented in a smile and a small chuckle.

 

“So, what took you so long to make it to breakfast?” he asked nonchalantly, but definitely going somewhere specific.

 

Lee stared down the blond, his brow narrowing, as Chip wondered if he had pushed this too far.  It really was playful fun, but he intended to make a point about the Skipper of the Boat participating in such work details.  It was his job to keep the mundane matters of maintenance out of the captain’s way, so that his concern could be spent on the more pressing duties of commanding Seaview.

 

Lee shrugged, forking another load of eggs.  “It dawned on me this morning what we were missing last night.  I grabbed Phil and supervised the fix,” he fessed up with a smile that said, so what are you going to do about it?

 

Chip chuckled.  “I figured as much, just giving you a hard time, Lee,” he admitted, knowing that one of the reasons Seaview ran as efficiently as it did was because of her captain’s uncanny connection with her.  Lee knew the boat inside and out, and that fact brought both great respect and comfort to Seaview’s crew.

 

“Well, now it’s my turn,” Lee said, putting down his coffee cup and losing his earlier playfulness.  “You’ve been looking a little tired lately, anything I should know about?” he asked pointedly.  It wasn’t something a captain would normally asked his first officer when it wasn’t affecting his duties; this was the brother in him talking.

 

“No, I don’t think so.  I’m sleeping, just waking up a little tired is all,” he confessed readily.

 

Lee nodded, accepting his answer.  “If it keeps up, see Jamie.  We’ll be under the pack ice soon and I need you at your best,” he added, returning the inquiry to his right to know as captain, but completely trusting in Chip’s judgement in the matter.

 

“Aye Skipper,” Chip replied, not surprised that his best friend would notice what most people would never spot, before glancing at his watch and raising a brow at the time.  He stood, collected his tray and coffee cup as Lee did the same then deposited their dishes in the bins provided for the kitchen detail to deal with, and headed for the door.

 

“Hold down the fort, Chip,” Lee said, turning aft, in the opposite direction of the Control Room, “I’m going to check on the Admiral in the lab.”

 

“Aye, aye, Sir,” the Exec replied, before heading on his way in the opposite direction.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee knocked then peered around the partially opened door, waiting for an invitation before entering completely.

 

“Lee, come in,” the Admiral greeted amicably, even though he was deep in the middle of a thought at the moment, considering a plethora of maps, charts, and data that were splayed across the table. 

 

Lee moved to the table recognizing the sea charts, mapping out the vicinity for which Seaview was currently in route; though it looked like a haphazard mess, Lee knew it was actually laid out quite logically.  One map in particular was prominently displayed on the work table, whose prior lab apparatuses had long since been removed to make room to spread out.  The circled region was superimposed with the sea quake data he had brought to Harry’s attention before leaving port.

 

“Good morning, Admiral,” he replied with a small smile, eying the sea chart Harry was currently marking with notes.  “I was wondering what was keeping you busy these last few days.”

 

“Hmmm?” Harry answered distractedly, before answering fully.  “Yes, well I’ve been working on narrowing our search coordinates, and I’ve found something fascinating, Lee.”

 

Lee’s brow tightened in response as Harry continued.

 

“This region not only has had a rash of recent earthquakes,” Harry said reaching for the map prominently displayed in the center of his work table, “but there has also been some atmospheric activity as well.”  Harry’s excitement for the new information was clearly visible as he reached for yet another chart, pointing to the data as he spoke.  “The aurora borealis activity in this region was heightened significantly and seems to correspond directly with the quakes registered.  I ran the mathematics, and the correlation co-efficient demonstrates a solid .93 bi-variate correlation, and reveals the high probability of correlation between the two events,” he answered excitedly and barreling forward with his explanation, as Lee leaned over to examine the data for himself.  “For every quake registered, the expected aurora activity was affected; increasing the ionization of the atmosphere during the actual time of the quake, before returning to its expected activity after the seismic activity ceased.  Now, I know that for two variables measuring physical occurrences we would like to see a higher correlation, but Lee, look what happened when I tested the statistical probability for the duration of the two activities.”

 

Lee was keenly interested in Harry’s findings; it wasn’t just the math, which he knew Harry calculated flawlessly, but it was the level of excitement the results had generated in the Admiral that convinced him the most.

 

“The Pearson-R for these two numbers is nearly perfect at a positive .99, demonstrating that the high likelihood of a correlation between the duration of both the seismic and atmospheric activities are indeed related,” he finished, taking his first full breath as the twinkle in his eyes was accompanied with a definite tight-lipped smile that shouted extreme satisfaction for anyone who knew him well.

 

Lee turned the chart to examine the data himself, shaking his head and raising an eyebrow as he did so.

 

“So, what do you think it means?”

 

“Well, that’s the million-dollar question, because we aren’t investigating the recent quakes or the increase of intensity in the expected aurora, but a strange disturbance that is, at best, explained as sonar ‘pings’.”

 

Lee’s brow furled in thought as his bottom lip pursed.  “It’s odd that whatever is frightening the local fish and sea mammal population away from the region can be measured by sound waves, seismic activity, and electrical disturbances in the atmosphere.”

 

Harry leaned back expelling a breath in thought.  “I see what you’re saying; by sound via sonar, physically as measured by the seismograph, and by sight if measured by an increase in intensity in the expected aurora during the quakes.  Sight, sound, and feel,” he repeated out loud, reaching for his notebook to capture his thoughts while the iron was still hot.

 

Lee recognized the look in his best friend’s eyes and knew that Harry was going to be knee-deep in more calculations and resisted a smile as he took the time to excuse himself.

 

“Well, let me know what you come up with; I’m keenly interested in your conclusions,” he offered as Harry merely nodded while he quickly jotted down notes.  “I’d better head up to the Control Room,” he continued, with the Admiral muttering something incomprehensible in a distracted acknowledgement of his departure.

 

Lee closed the door behind him, cracking a small smile at Harry’s child-like excitement and realizing that he probably wouldn’t be seeing the Admiral for another two days.  Harry was relentless when he was onto a new discovery or explanation such as this, and knew that he’d likely be sequestered in his lab until he was satisfied with his conclusions.  He headed forward making a mental note to have a steward assigned to Harry for his meals and hot coffee for the duration of his expected isolation.   They would be reaching their target coordinate grid in another three days and he had no doubt that the genius admiral would have something substantial to add to the likelihood of a successful investigation.

 

At the last thought, a rush of cool air sped through him, invoking a shudder at the unexpected coolness and its just as sudden, dissipation.  The event caused him to stop in his tracks as the coolness had passed through his body, leaving his hands trembling slightly in a sudden rush of adrenaline.  As the coolness passed he heard something; though not audible, his mind vaguely heard a word almost disguised as a rush of wind.  It was too distant to grasp, and as the coolness dissipated it took with it the knowledge of the word it had deposited into Lee’s mind; freiheit. 

 

Lee took a deep breath and righted himself from the bulkhead, remembering the rush of cool air, but not the message embedded into him, and shook his head to clear his mind.  He looked up at the nearest air vent and purposed to have DC run a check on Seaview’s revitalization and environmental controls, before continuing his forward progress to the Control Room.

 

* * * * *

 

Chip Morton stood at the Chart Table reviewing Seaview’s last check point, when a yawn nearly escaped.  He raised the back of his hand to his mouth and swallowed it back, then dipped his head in an effort to covertly squeeze the bridge of his nose.  He’d been sleeping at night, he was sure of it, but he wasn’t sure why he’d been so tired lately.  He raised his head, shaking off the lethargy just in time to spot Lee stepping over the aft hatch, and quickly busied himself with the sea chart in front of him.

 

“Status, Mr. Morton,” Lee ordered, approaching the chart table and picking up a pencil and straight edge to check the last marked check point.

 

“Depth 200 feet, running at Standard and meeting check points as plotted, Sir,” he replied deftly, on top of his game despite the weariness he was working to hide.

 

“Very well,” Lee answered, perusing the Control Room situation lights before returning his attention to the chart table.  He made a quick calculation of the next check point, satisfying himself with Seaview’s progress before turning his attention to other matters of the Boat.  “Chip, put a detail on checking the Environmental Controls; it seems to be going haywire every once in a while.”

 

Chip raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.  “In what way?” he inquired, needing to know the symptoms to pass on to the maintenance detail.

 

“Some kind of intermittent problem; a few times I noticed it being rather chilly, then later it’s fine.”

 

“Aye Skipper, I’ll get a detail on it right away,” he replied, stepping away from the Chart Table and taking a few steps toward Sharkey, who was marking plots on the Position Board.  “Chief,” he called a few steps from him.

 

“Aye Sir,” Sharkey answered turning his full attention to the XO.

 

“The Skipper has noticed an intermittent problem with Environmental Controls; it seems that it’s running on the cold side then correcting itself.”

 

“Aye Sir, I’ll get right on it,” he replied, ready to move into action and knowing without a shadow of a doubt, that if the Skipper said something was off… it was off!

 

Chip nodded his reply then headed back to the chart table, where Lee had already plotted out the check points for the next two watches.  “Sharkey’s on it,” he informed his superior officer to Lee’s acknowledging nod.

 

“Thanks Chip,” he returned amicably, their decorum less formal when conversing privately.  “Oh, before I forget, the Admiral is on a roll in the lab.” 

 

Chip nodded knowingly, he figured as much since they hadn’t seen much of him for the last two days. 

 

“He’s onto to something new and you know what that means,” he stated rather than asked with a small smile.

 

“Aye Sir, I’ll assign a steward to keep the coffee coming and deliver his meals,” the blond replied, demonstrating the fact that he knew the Admiral just as well.

 

Lee let out a small chuckle and shook his head, leaning in closer to keep their conversation private.  “You should have seen him, when he’s onto something he’s like a bloodhound on the scent of his quarry, and you can put your bottom dollar on the bet that he’ll solve the mystery before he’s through,” he said, in an open compliment of Harry’s genius.

 

Chip allowed his own grin to surface and nodded in agreement.  “Aye, that would be a winning bet for sure,” he agreed.

 

Lee held the smile for a moment longer, raising his head and scanning the situation boards once again before letting it fade as he got back to boat’s business.  “I’ll be back to cover the Con while you conduct the training simulation for the Detection gear at 1400 hours,” he informed, taking a quick look at his watch as he spoke.  “I’ll be in my cabin if you need me, my in-box needs some attention,” he quipped.

 

“Aye Sir, I’ll see you at lunch,” Chip replied, raising an eyebrow to make sure that Seaview’s captain had that little detail on his agenda.

 

“Always thinking with your stomach, Morton,” he jested quietly and sharing a small smile for the on-going dig he shared with his best friend.  The blond was as fit as could be, and it was a wonder to all concerned that he maintained such a physically fit frame with his well-known hearty appetite.  Of course, he was fully aware that Chip Morton was also an avid athlete and burned off his calories even aboard Seaview, in the boat’s small, but efficient gym.

 

Chip responded with his famous unreadable command face, still inquiring about Lee’s commitment to the noon meal.

 

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Lee relented with a small smile and headed toward the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time and ready to tackle the ever-fruitful in-box, which seemed to multiply faithfully on an hourly basis.

 

Chip smiled faintly, before reaching to rub out his tired neck muscles almost without thought.   He caught himself and returned his attention to his duties, vowing to hit the sack an hour earlier tonight.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry sat bent over his lab table, busily working through mathematical formulas and postulating just what the figures were telling him.  He was currently knee-deep in calculating the source of the ionization of the atmosphere resulting in the increased intensity of the expected aurora, especially when the solar wind activity for those days hadn’t seemed to support the events’ intensity levels.  So deep in concentration was he that he barely noted and subsequently ignored, the sudden cool brush of breeze that swept passed him.  The breeze seemed to circulate around the table, before passing by him again and quickly dissipating through the closed lab door.  This time, Harry raised his head, noting the change in temperature and raised his head to scrutinize the vent across the room before returning to his calculations.  He continued working, noting the room’s temperature returning to normal, and filing away the incident to be dealt with later.  For now, he was completely engrossed in the mystery pings and their now mathematical correlation to the aurora and sea quakes.

 

Chapter Three

 

“You heard the Exec, men!” Chief Sharkey exclaimed, directing a simulation of the deployment of the special detection gear they had brought aboard.  “Easy does it, Kowalski, this isn’t a box full of your girly magazines,” he admonished.  “It’s a highly sophisticated piece of electronic equipment!”

 

“I got it, Chief,” Ski assured, having accidentally swayed the load with the overhead crane, rocking the equipment precariously until gaining control over it.

 

“Good,” Seaview’s chief coached, “a little more… a little more… bingo!” he announced, satisfied with Ski’s simulated delivery to the open well used for large deployments.  “Okay, Patterson, once the gear has been deployed, your job is to monitor the equipment, run a quick diagnostic and report its readiness for action.”

 

“Got it, Chief,” Patterson replied with a nod.

 

“Okay, run through the sequence,” Sharkey ordered.  “Show me…  Perfect, now let’s reset everything for Team Beta,” Sharkey directed, walking over to the vertical dive hatch where Mr. Morton was observing the simulation.  “The equipment is a little heavy on the starboard side, but Kowalski got the feel for it pretty fast,” he assured the Exec.

 

Chip nodded, he had already identified the asymmetry of the equipment and hence the drill here with a mock load that mirrored the equipment’s physical attributes.

 

“Very well, Chief.  Run each team through the deployment and retrieval sequences.  The equipment is too sensitive to be banging around down there.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Sharkey replied, always ready to whip his men into shape and sporting a small smile as he turned around in time to yell at a couple of crewmen engaging in their own conversation instead of watching and learning.  “Hey you two clowns; stay with the program, we’ve got a lot of work to do here.”

 

“Right, Chief,” they replied almost in unison as Sharkey continued the simulation.

 

* * * * *

 

Chip watched from his place at the vertical dive hatch.  When the deployment and retrieval drills were finished, he would personally supervise a run-through of the operation of the equipment.  Readouts for data interpretation would automatically be forwarded electronically to the Control Room, but the operation of the device would require adjustments from the Missile Room floor to further the underwater investigation. 

 

Chip made his way over to the control board of the detection equipment as Sharkey neared the end of the last team’s drill.  When the drill was secured he called the men together to go over operations of the control board.  Both team members were required in the briefing as backup, so a semi-circle of six men, plus Sharkey, arced around the Exec as he explained the control functions.

 

Heads nodded their understanding as Chip briefed the men when a noticeable chill swept over him; it was enough of a difference in temperature that he stopped and looked at the vent across the deck.

 

“There it goes again,” Chip noted to Sharkey’s shrug of the shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir, we just couldn’t find the problem, but I’ve got a detail still working on it.  We’ll get to the bottom of it,” he promised, demonstrating that he too had felt the chill.

 

“All right, let’s get back to work,” Chip said, moving the drill along as the men focused on his instruction.  The chill lingered a few minutes more, and then dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, while Chip silently determined to get to the bottom of the problem.  Seaview was a well-maintained vessel, and the recent problem with the environmental controls had presented somewhat of mystery.  He didn’t like mysteries, and especially not in environmental controls 200 feet below the surface.  He filed away the thought, mentally adding it to his To-Do list and continued the briefing, without missing a beat.

 

* * * * *

 

The hazy mist swirled from almost nothing until it expanded itself to hover once again, over the sleeping blond officer, Lt. Commander Chip Morton.  The drop in temperature sent a shiver up the sleeping man’s spine as he instinctively pulled his blanket higher, while an unnatural glow emitted from the mist, growing in intensity as it probed the mind of the prone man.  Its tendrils reached deep into his mind and soul, seeking the place where mere influence would give way to complete control.  The glow swelled in brightness, finding the place it sought and reveled in the strength of the man’s life force.  Morton tossed his head uncomfortably at the intrusion, followed by a small groan escaping in an airy breath.  Upon realization that it had lingered there too long, it pulled back and withdrew.  Perhaps it would return later, the satisfaction of the life pumping through Morton’s veins something it would revel in later; for now, it needed to make its final decision on where to place the burden of its demands.  Upon that decision, the mist withdrew and exited under the door seeking its next destination, Crane’s cabin.

 

* * * * *

 

The mist hovered over the sleeping captain emanating once again an eerie green glow.  It had been curious on its previous visits concerning the dark-haired man’s wounded soul, but had not yet been able to probe deeply enough to determine its source.  However, the closer the windowed submarine journeyed to its prison, the easier it was becoming to exercise its power over its subjects.  It was seeking an officer, but before the final decision was made it wanted to satisfy itself of the endeavor’s success, and that meant choosing the most suitable host.

 

Its probing tendrils reached down in what looked like long boney fingers, coming in contact with his forehead and entering at a place of least resistance.  To enter at the heart would require a willing subject, and it knew that that wasn’t an option for most humans, particularly Nelson, Morton, and Crane.  The probing provoked restlessness as Crane fought the intrusion, his cheek twitching and his brow tightening.  It should have withdrawn right then and there as it recognized a wall of resistance, one erected by self-preservation; a wall built with the mortar of pain and regret.  Its curiosity won out over its compassion, however, as it probed deeper to penetrate the wall at its weakest point.  When it broke through it reveled deeply in the sheer determination of Crane’s soul; his will to live, to survive, and the strength of his life force was nearly intoxicating.  It lingered there, soaking in the energy before moving on in order to seek the answer to its query regarding Crane’s suitability to control.

 

The probing elicited a grunt from Crane, as it intruded into the source of his hidden wound; concealed deep below and neatly placed inside memories that he had access to, but fought hard to leave in the past.  The intruder ignored the rules of its intrusion, even though there were potential consequences to consider for what it was about to do, and continued probing until the source of Crane’s pain became clear.  Images of a derelict submarine and a dark figure with evil intent rushed toward the probing intruder, followed by a life-threatening injury, betrayal, and then…

 

The images came to an abrupt halt as Crane fought harder, trying to rebuild the wall he had erected to survive and to heal.  It was cruel to probe further, for the intruder already had its answer to its question concerning Crane, but it surged forward in more than morbid curiosity, finding their prisons oddly similar and too intrigued to withdraw.  It made a final punch through his resistance; Crane’s face crinkled in physical pain, which was countered by the utter rapture the intruder felt as it dominated the captain’s being.  From here, it probed deeper finding all the answers it was looking for in the painful memories that Crane had long since suppressed behind his will to survive, and to regain control over his life.  It was here in the dark places of his memory that it accessed Crane’s deepest pain, and his greatest adversary; Gerhardt Krueger.

 

The intruder shrunk back immediately, reacting instantly to the vileness of the ghost.  Though it was repulsed with the spirit, it sought to probe deeper, reconnecting as Crane tossed his head and groaned, yet not released to wakefulness as the mist curiously advanced through his memories one by one.

 

A strange encounter with a ghost submarine with a large gaping hole in its side and yet still managing to maneuver…

 

A mystery survivor; a German submarine captain whose bizarre behavior had landed him a place in the brig.  More bizarre activities aboard the windowed submarine until Captain Krueger was killed; shot dead on a man-hunt while hiding in a storage closet.  Crane had buried the captain at sea on Seaview’s oddly misty and cold deck, closing the Captain’s Ceremony Book decisively upon the splash of the WWI captain’s body as it sunk into the depths.  He had hoped this would silence the mood of the crew, who had become convinced that Krueger was more spirit than man…

 

The strange behavior of Crane’s trusted friend, Admiral Nelson who had become obsessed with Krueger, and was exhibiting signs of a man experiencing raptures of the deep…

 

And then the strange conversation in Nelson’s cabin regarding the gun.  “No matter what happens don't let me have it, or any other gun aboard the boat.  I want your word on that,” Harry begged handing Lee the gun from his safe.

 

The conversation prior had left Lee doubtful of Harry’s present state of mind, as he spoke of spirits and ghosts.  He had, frankly, left Lee feeling more than uncomfortable, as Harry described the dead captain’s demand to kill Lee.  Harry’s obsession was more than creepy, it was becoming downright dangerous.  Lee took the gun, promising to keep weapons out of Harry’s reach, and wondering if his next stop should be a consultation with Doc Jamieson.  He wasn’t ready to tarnish Harry’s reputation just yet, and instead headed to the Control Room, stopping to secure the gun in a weapon’s cabinet.  He proceeded to the chart table where Chip stood, who immediately noticed Lee’s troubled countenance.

 

“Chip, the Admiral hasn’t been right since this whole Krueger thing began,” he started quietly, careful to keep the conversation private between them.  “I want you to watch my back.”  Upon that statement he noted Chip’s surprise, and continued.  “Just keep an eye on him; I’m not sure what’s wrong with the admiral.”

 

Chip drew in a long breath and nodded as he answered, “Aye Skipper,” not for a moment understanding Lee’s reasoning, but clearly seeing his concern for Admiral Nelson as well as his own safety. 

 

“Thanks,” Lee replied as he purposely moved on to the business of running a nuclear submarine. 

 

For the next two hours, Lee had settled into the usual details of a captain and had just finished checking the surface with the periscope as they arrived at their coordinates.  He slid the arms back into their locked position and turned to allow the periscope to lower when a loud report was heard followed by an instant searing pain in his side.  Shocked by the bullet, Lee looked down at the blossom of blood spreading over his shirt and then slowly raised his head to the pathway of the bullet, finding Harry holding the smoking gun still pointed at his midsection.  Upon proof of Harry’s betrayal, Lee’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell from the island to the cold deck, all happening so quickly that the crew didn’t even have time to catch the injured man before he fell. 

 

He was unconscious, floating in a strange state where he could hear distorted sounds around him, but unable to respond or even wake.  From his place on the deck, he could hear the strained voices of his crew; Chip calling for the Admiral to be subdued, a scuffle and Harry’s strange cries asking if he was dead; then someone, Kowalski he thought, begging someone to call the Doc.  After that, the distorted sounds were drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, beating slower and slower as he lost all consciousness.

 

The next time his awareness returned, it was in a different place, Sickbay.  Again, he was unable to open his eyes as Jamie and his corpsman worked furiously to save their captain.  His pain was overshadowed by an overwhelming dark chill surrounding his body.  In the background, he could hear Harry screaming incoherently, but even that was far removed from his ability to respond to his surroundings.  He was floating in an existence he had never experienced before.  He’d been rendered unconscious before, even shot; and though there were times he could hear sounds around him, he hadn’t lingered in that place before quickly passing through to deep unconsciousness, where he had no recollections or awareness of the passing of time.  This time, however, was different.  He was like a prisoner in his own body and in a place of unresponsiveness; unconscious to those around him, but able to hear the activities around him, even though he was unable to fully understand what was happening.  He was presently just floating; disjointed, with distorted sounds that he only understood in bits in pieces, like disjointed puzzle pieces.

 

Suddenly, he was aware of the room becoming colder and the instant sound of Harry’s voice pleading with Jamie to take notice.  “Look at Crane,” Lee heard; repeating the words to himself, and wondering what was happening to elicit such a reaction from Harry.  He remembered feeling more concerned for Harry’s well-being; his voice was raw and slurred, crying unashamedly for Jamie to listen to him, when Lee felt the first tendrils of Krueger’s dominating presence.  His insides shook with fear, locked in an unconscious body that wouldn’t obey his demands to wake, as the specter hovered close.  His existence became instantly dark as a bone-chilling presence settled over him, immediately relegating him to a small corner of his own mind and soul.  He was being stuffed into the smallest compartment of his existence where he could hardly breathe, yet was aware through the window of his mind, of Krueger’s actions.  He could see Krueger rise up from the gurney clothed in his body, moving as if it belonged to him, while the pain in his physical body shifted entirely to Lee’s existence.  Overwhelming pain filled his being as Lee’s spirit bore the consequences of the gunshot wound, while Krueger commanded his physical body without penalty. 

 

“I have waited a long time for this, captain,” Krueger whispered to him, his eerie voice sending terror through Lee’s tiny existence.  “I need you for a short while, then you shall take my place among the undead as I make use of your body,” he promised darkly.

 

Inside, his voice was weak and airy.  “No,” he tried to fight back, only to be seized in more pain as Krueger leaned against his closet door, pressing upon him even more.

 

“Warm blood now pumps through me,” Krueger reveled to himself, as Lee pressed back.

 

“No... my life,” he insisted, promising to fight back, but Krueger’s dominance over him was far too overpowering as he bore the pain of his wound, while Krueger operated his body free from the obligations of a torso still harboring a bullet.

 

The bleeding had stopped, and Crane’s physical body was supernaturally strong again as Krueger breathed deeply, expelling a satisfied breath. 

 

“Watch Crane, for I will take from you and live my life anew,” he invited, allowing Lee to share in the experience of his shared form, without the ability to stop his own body’s reactions.

 

Krueger stood, buttoning his shirt as Jamie turned around shocked and dismayed at the sight of Captain Crane’s sudden recovery.  A corpsman was busy preparing the operating room, and Harry had been strongly sedated, so Jamie was the only one to see the strange sight.

 

“Captain, you’ve got a bullet in you!” he pleaded as Krueger interrupted him, supernaturally exerting his will over the surprised doctor.

 

“I’m fine,” Krueger answered, forgetting and utilizing his own accent before reaching into Lee’s mind to command Crane’s voice.  Lee felt helpless as Krueger took even more from his existence, possessing his mind and body, and nearly snuffing out his very soul.  Krueger looked over at Nelson pitifully, “Take care of the Admiral,” he ordered in mock concern as Jamie’s normally overpowering presence as the commanding officer of Sickbay took a backseat to the spirit’s will. 

 

Krueger walked out of sickbay, robed in Lee’s body and reveling in the life force he now possessed, as Lee struggled to survive in the dark closet that had become his existence.  It was then that Lee realized that everything that Harry had tried to tell him was true; if only he had listened to him… trusted him.  Upon Lee’s thought, Krueger laughed inwardly.  Even his private reflections weren’t hidden from the monster who had stolen his identity.  It was at that moment, however, that Lee realized that Krueger’s mind was open to him as well.  Suddenly, it all made sense, as he realized that Krueger was behind the sudden loss of air that had nearly suffocated the crew, as well as their inability to move, as if gravity itself had been affected.  Through Krueger’s mind, he saw how the cruel spirit had tormented Harry, forcing the Admiral to make a choice between Lee and the crew.  Instantly, he knew that Harry hadn’t betrayed him, but had been forced into the decision and then compelled by the spirit’s will to fire on his best friend.  Lee probed deeper into the mind of his captor, downloading and instantly understanding Krueger’s intent.

 

“No!” he yelled at the realization that Krueger’s plans involved another innocent life; a woman named Maria.

 

“Be still,” Krueger warned, physically pushing in on his side to elicit a cry from Lee, and smiling outwardly at the knowledge that though Lee’s body was arrested from deterioration at this time, that the pain of the wound was being sustained in Crane’s existence.  “Soon I will have no more need of you,” the evil spirit announced inwardly as he neared the hatch.  “What I access from you will be mine,” he continued.

 

Lee’s existence was left in a near mental-fetal position, too weak to fight and a by-stander to his own body’s actions as Krueger cruelly took what didn’t belong to him.  In doing so, Lee found himself an unwilling participant in Krueger’s activities.  He was aware of Krueger’s interactions with his crew, conversing with in his own voice and urging them to believe that he was actually fine.  His odd statement that he wasn’t as injured as Doc first thought was received warily by his perplexed crew, particularly when Crane still sported a uniform shirt bloodied with a bullet hole.

 

He could do nothing to free himself, and listened as Krueger ordered Admiral Nelson arrested and then announced he was going to take the flying sub for a secret mission.  Lee wanted to warn Chip about Krueger, but had no recourse to do so as the WWI submariner headed to the deck hatch, issuing orders to surface the nuclear submarine in order to travel faster.  Chip crinkled his brow, realizing that Lee was obviously not well, and insisted he get medical help.  Lee felt a sudden surge of anger swell up in the body he could feel, but not control, as Krueger drew back his fist and decked Seaview’s first officer, then climbed down the hatch to launch the flying sub.

 

“Chip,” Lee called, but no one could hear his call for help as Krueger reached in with fiery tendrils to access his ability to operate the flying sub.  Lee’s only hope was for Seaview to track FS1, as he silently prayed that he could find a way to stop Krueger’s plan to kill the native dancer, Maria, for Lani to inhabit. 

 

* * * * *

 

The pain of being possessed by a sadistic spirit was equaled by Lee’s inability to control his body’s actions.  He was aware of the happenings around him, though only as a distant by-stander, yet he was keenly aware of Krueger’s emotions as they surged through his captured body.  Crane desperately tried to object as Krueger sat at the table of the smoky lounge lusting after the form he had chosen for his Lani, but Krueger pressed even harder, until Lee’s voice was hardly a whisper inside his shared body.  The pain of the untreated bullet wound was nearly unbearable and he had no way to warn Maria.  His life was dwindling away as Krueger convinced the beautiful dancer to come away with him to a nearby island.  Taken in by hijacked Crane’s handsome form, she was more than willing to follow the officer. 

 

It was here on the island that Krueger’s evil intent was revealed as he tried to choke the life out of Maria over the grave marker of his beloved Lani.  Lee’s struggles to stop Krueger’s use of his body only weakened him more as he felt his own hands tighten around her neck; his hope was nearly gone until he heard a woman’s voice.  Instantly, he knew that voice through Krueger’s own memories, as Lani’s ghostly figure appeared, insisting that her former love cease his actions.  Lee listened as she admonished his behaviors as wrong, refusing to participate in his ghastly deeds, before disappearing into the night air. 

 

Her exit left a powerful void in Krueger’s presence as he hastily left his new form to follow after her in his spirit form, leaving Lee free from the possession.  The pain returned to his physical body as he groaned, trying to find a way to help Maria, but he was too weak to move.  The blood loss began once again and all he could do was apologize for what had happened to her. 

 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said through pained gasps.  “Believe me, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” but his body could hold out no longer as he collapsed back into a semi-conscious state, then fear and dread returned as the icy cold feel of Krueger’s presence returned.  “Oh God, no!” he pleaded as Krueger rejoined his body and imprisoned him once again in the small closet of his dying existence.

 

Lee heard a blood curdling scream as Krueger reentered him, a cry from a woman who only now had begun to realize the dark forces at work around her.  He was too weak to stop Krueger who ignored his weak cries, and instead surged forward to put all his effort into squeezing Maria’s breath from her neck when he heard Harry’s voice.

 

“Krueger!”

 

That was the last thing he heard, as Krueger stood, pressing harder on Lee’s existence until he succumbed to utter blackness, completely unaware that Krueger had left his body, and crumbling to the ground with the dangerous bullet wound sucking his life away. 

 

His body was now his own, though he was deeply unconscious as Harry carried him to the raft, ordering Chip to destroy the island as he rowed vigorously to reach FS1 with Maria and a dangerously wounded Lee Crane aboard…

 

The mist withdrew now completely understanding Crane’s hidden pain.  The sleeping man stirred and moaned; a soft, “No,” escaped as the vivid memory threatened to rouse him completely.  The mist swirled over the top of him, its glow giving no warmth to its cold presence and withdrew under the door.  As it left, it ignored the sounds of Crane’s distress, for it could not bear to feel the pain of the resurfaced memory as it manifested itself in the now awake captain. 

 

Crane’s pain was too close to its own agony, and he had no desire to share his body.  It had neither the heart nor the stomach to do so it determined, as it sought its third candidate, Admiral Harriman Nelson.

 

Chapter Four

 

 

A glowing mist hovered over a sleeping Nelson as tendrils sought to probe the admiral’s mind.  Tentatively it penetrated his mind, still grieved over its probe of Crane and finding a strong will that it had to punch through.  It found the endeavor a distasteful, but necessary, step in accomplishing its goal, and barreled its way past Nelson’s resistance ignoring his restlessness at the encroachment.  Here the intruder stopped to revel in the fantastic mind of the genius admiral.  Even in his sleep, his brain was busy calculating, creating, and inventing; when he woke, most of those ideas would be lost, but a few would be recalled and later explored; this the intruder had no doubt.

 

The mist swelled in satisfaction, only increasing the coolness of its presence before probing further.  It found Nelson a favorable vessel to command; it had been so lonely for so long.  The chance to revel in the genius of his mind was nearly intoxicating.  It pressed further, eliciting a groan from the auburn-haired man before withdrawing back to a more neutral position.  It realized that it was nearly drunk on the admiral’s intellect and had probed too deeply, nearly making its choice to possess Nelson right then and there.  It withdrew slowly and deliberately, hovering over the sleeping man whose face was now marred as if fighting off demons in a nightmare.

 

It blew a cold breath of resignation out and swirled in upon itself until it disappeared into the darkness.  It had made its choice; Nelson’s intellect was of too much value to his goal.  He needed Admiral Nelson’s mind fully engaged in the mission to free him, and therefore retreated to his first choice… Lt. Commander Chip Morton.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee woke in a cold sweat, sitting up bolt upright in his bunk and breathing hard until he had convinced himself that he had suffered only a nightmare.  He slowed his breathing down, expelling out two final long breaths in self-control and then plopped back on his pillow, throwing a weary arm over his eyes.

 

Where had that dream come from? he wondered silently.   He hadn’t been plagued with a nightmare about Krueger for a very long time.  This one was too real; too vivid; and had dredged up all the accompanying emotions of his ordeal.  All the shame, the fear, the feeling of helplessness he had at the possession by the sinister ghost.  It had been quite some time before he had felt comfortable in his own skin knowing that Krueger had abided there for even the short time he had.  The threat of nearly being snuffed out of existence, while occupying only the smallest of compartments of his mind and soul was a burden he had worked hard to get past.  Likewise, feeling his hands tighten around Maria’s neck and not being able to control it or stop his own actions was incredibly painful.  It had taken a good deal of soul searching to accept the fact that he was no more in control of his actions, than Harry had been when he pulled the trigger. 

 

But it had been far easier to forgive Harry than himself.  He knew what a monster Krueger was, and that Harry had been forced to participate to save his crew.  The betrayal he felt wasn’t at the hands of Harry, but at his own perceived weakness that he couldn’t stop Krueger’s use of his body.  There had been enough pain and regret to go around between the two of them, and as each sought to help the other, they were finally able to forgive themselves. 

 

Lee wiped away an unwanted tear before it fell from his eye.  He hated that Krueger was still able to affect him like this, a whole year after the bastard had tried to steal his very existence.  The last thought sent an unexpected chill up his spine, as he realized just how close the German submarine captain had come to his goal.  Lani was right; Lee’s life had been hanging only by a thread as she predicted that Krueger’s plan of taking his form forever was almost inevitable.  Once Lee had perished, Krueger would then occupy his form completely, and would have been susceptible to Harry’s bullet.  It had been that close.  A madman running around in his body; the vilest of men returning to Seaview to command the submarine, railroad Harry into a murder conviction, and steal Maria’s body to make room for his Lani.  He cared for no one but himself, even willing to force Lani to inhabit Maria’s body when she protested his actions.  If it hadn’t been for Harry showing up when he did…

 

Stop this, Crane, he interrupted himself, running a hand through his dark hair in an effort to clear his mind.  Krueger is gone.  Period.   He admonished himself, blowing out a cleansing breath that didn’t quite do the job, and reaching for his robe.  The dream had been too vivid and he knew that any chance of sleep would now be lost to him, so he made his way to the head to get an early start on his day. 

 

He had a boat to run, and he had no intention of allowing Krueger to take any more of his life than he had already stolen from him.  His resolve set, and his mind refocused, he headed to the Control Room to check on the Dog Watch.  By his second cup of coffee and a walk about the boat, he had successfully put the demons of Krueger’s possession back in place and was effectively engaging in his duties.

 

* * * * *

 

The coolness of its presence was an unavoidable occurrence as it sought out the means by which to accomplish its goal.  All three men had the authority to act; all three were susceptible to its influence.  Each would serve its needs; nonetheless, it was confident in the choice it had made.  Crane’s previous experience left a decisively bad taste in its being; even though as captain, Crane’s orders would be less scrutinized.  Nelson’s intellect would be a joy to interact with after so long a time of loneliness and isolation guarding its secret, but it was relying on Nelson having full command of his brilliant mind to solve the mystery.  Morton then was the perfect choice; a man with enough authority of his own to act, his actions very probably going unnoticed while conducting certain tasks necessary to the goal.

 

Its misty presence swelled in the anticipation of occupying Morton’s body.  The thought of commanding a warm body clothed in flesh and blood was very nearly inebriating.  It lingered a moment there, hovering over its chosen vessel and relishing in the plans soon to be engaged.  Regretfully, it withdrew from Morton’s bedside to refocus on its goal.  Satisfied, with its work for the night; it withdrew back to its prison in the frigid coldness of the Arctic and waited for the grey windowed submarine to arrive.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee made his way to the Wardroom.  He was surprisingly alert considering the fact that he was already three and half hours into his day.  He walked in just in time to see his Executive Officer suppressing a yawn and looking even more run-down than before. 

 

“Good morning, Chip,” he greeted on his way to the buffet line.

 

“Good morning, Lee,” the blond replied, trying to hide his obvious fatigue. 

 

Lee made his selections for breakfast, finding himself hungrier than usual since his day was now in full swing.  He sat across from Chip, taking in an assessing view of both his Exec’s tired countenance and his half-eaten breakfast already abandoned in front of him.

 

“Have you seen the Admiral?” Lee asked digging into his breakfast and surprised Harry hadn’t showed up.

 

“He and Jamie were just finishing up when I came in,” Chip replied, taking another sip of his coffee.

 

Lee nodded, noting his best friend’s near lethargy and reached for his own coffee mug.  “Chip…”

 

“You don’t have to say it, Lee,” Chip interrupted, before sighing and catching the bad attitude about ready to escape.  He bit his lip and smiled contritely, “Jamie already tagged me for a trip to Sickbay for a checkup.”

 

“That’s good, you look done in,” he replied, leaning forward with both hands wrapped around his mug.

 

“Yeah, that’s what Jamie said,” the blond answered before releasing a surrendered sigh and giving in to the fact that he looked as tired as he felt.  “I don’t know what’s wrong, Lee,” he added, finally leaving the defensive mode he had started with and leaning back into his seat somewhat defeated.

 

“You probably just picked up a virus or something.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what Jamie said.  Anyway, I’m supposed to head there this morning.”  He stopped to pick up his coffee even though it was lukewarm now, and took a tentative sip.  “I’ll take care of it after I check in with Mitchell in the Control Room.”

 

“Mitch is fine, I’ve already got him started, he’s on top of it,” Lee countered.

 

“Lee, we’re headed into the ice field…”

 

“Mitch can handle it and it’s not like the captain of the boat isn’t going to be around either,” he said raising an eyebrow and waiting for Chip to counter that one.

 

“Aye, aye Skipper,” he conceded sullenly, running a tired hand across his neck in an unusual display of weariness.

 

“Cheer up, Chip.  It’s just a visit to Sickbay.”

 

“Oh?” the blond deadpanned, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.  “Mind if I use that line on you the next time we scrape you off the deck and you tell us you’re ‘fine’?”  Chip held out his unreadable command face which was getting a serious “Careful-I-outrank-you” look returned in kind, until both men broke out in a warm chuckle.  “You win, Lee.  I’ll head there as soon as we’re done here.”

 

“Good.  So, I saw your report on the simulations,” Lee said, easing into boat business and giving Chip a much-appreciated way out of the uncomfortable conversation.

 

“All three teams are ship-shape and ready to go,” he reported as the two accepted a warm up on their coffee from the steward.  They conversed for a few minutes more before both stood, collected their trays and disposed of them and then parted ways with Lee heading back to the Control Room and Chip keeping his promise to visit Sickbay.

 

* * * * *

 

Dr. Will Jamieson crossed his arms in front of his stubborn patient, who was currently digging in his heels to the doctor’s prescription.

 

“Take the day off?!”  Chip exclaimed incredulously, his blue eyes narrowing and his forehead curling, even though he had managed to keep from raising his voice.  Still, the intensity in his countenance shouted louder than words, a fact Jamieson hadn’t missed.

 

“Chip, you’re exhausted.  You’re dead on your feet right now, and if I don’t intervene, you’re going to be taking up residence in one those bunks soon, and I guarantee you won’t be back to work for at least three days,” Seaview’s Chief Medical Officer countered vehemently.

 

“Jamie,” Chip said, bringing down his intensity in an effort to try to win over his point, “All I need is a good night’s sleep.  I’ll take the damn pill tonight…”

 

“You will take the prescription now, head straight to your cabin and sack out for the rest of the day.  Is that clear, Mr. Morton?” he questioned, wielding his medical rank around rather effectively.

 

Chip sighed, reminding himself of his duty as an officer, and the fact that the boat’s XO wasn’t immune to the CMO’s prescriptions any more than the sub’s captain… or her creator for that matter.

 

“Just one day,” he repeated, to Jamie’s reaffirming nod.  “And I’m back on duty tomorrow?”

 

“Just for today, Chip,” he assured, backing off his strong stance as Seaview’s stubborn Executive Officer began to show some semblance of reasonability.  “Then the prescription will be a dose before bedtime for the next three days,” Jamie added, his body-language brokering a definite no-argument stance.

 

Chip opened his mouth to protest, but the doctor’s resolve only deepened, evidenced by the CMO’s own effective medical command glare.  The blond rethought his unspoken protest and nodded, “Aye, aye,” he responded instead, reaching for the dose cup Jamie held for him.

 

“Take two now,” Seaview’s doctor prescribed, “and these are for the following three nights,” he explained.

 

Chip raised an appraising eyebrow, noticing the fact that the pills in the dose cup were different colors, no doubt indicating a different dosage than the pills in the bottle.  “Just how strong are these?”

 

“Very strong,” Jamie replied, raising a hand to fend off the Exec’s next protest.  “You’ll be out for the rest of the day.  I’ll be making several house calls to monitor your condition; the subsequent pills you take are only a light sedative.  You’ll be able to rouse yourself if duty requires without any problem.”

 

Chip sighed, realizing that Jamie was working with him, offering to make a house call to his cabin rather than dumping him in Sickbay for the night, and smiled weakly.  “Thanks Jamie.”

 

Jamieson returned his smile and nodded toward the dosage cup prompting Chip to take the prescription without further discussion.  Jamie’s smile widened with satisfaction.  “I’ll inform the captain of your duty status today.  Head straight to your cabin; those pills pack a mean punch,” he added with an all-out grin.

 

“On my way,” Chip replied, straightening his tie and depositing the pill bottle into his front pocket.  “And thanks, Jamie,” he added with a nod before heading out of Sickbay to the relative freedom of his cabin.  The fact that he had been relegated to bedrest today produced only a minor irritation at this point, as the prescription he had just taken combined with days of exhaustion had finally caught up with him.  He barely made it to his cabin without yawning, an unforgivable faux pas in his eyes, and shut the door behind him.  He quickly changed and headed straight for his bunk, not even tempted to take a peek at his in-basket first, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

* * * * *

 

Harry’s concentration was momentarily diverted as a brief knock was followed by the door opening with glimpses of a dark-headed officer entering in his peripheral vision. 

 

“Good morning, Lee,” he said without looking up, already knowing who his visitor was just by the familiar rap on the door.

 

“Good morning, Admiral.  How’s the research coming?” he asked curiously, knowing that the admiral’s work was directly related to their mission.

 

“Fine, in fact, I believe I’ve narrowed down our first coordinates to investigate,” he replied, sitting back and stretching slightly.

 

Lee stood near the table looking over the plethora of papers and charts, curious where Seaview would begin her work in the region.  Harry responded by pointing to one of several circles marked in red pencil as Lee nodded, taking in the topography and depth immediately with a quick sweep of his eyes.

 

“Although the entire region has been affected by the pings and beeps, there are three coordinates that seem to be particularly suspect, especially when coupled with the recent seismic activity,” he noted, pointing to the three circles which he had numbered from one to three.  “Of course, the aurora region is wide, but even so, it was unexpectedly strong over these areas,” he added.

 

Lee studied the map and sighed outwardly, his brow furrowing in contemplation as Harry cracked a tight-lipped smile.

 

“You noticed it too?” the admiral replied cryptically.

 

“The fact that the three areas you’ve identified form a near perfect triangle?”

 

Harry’s eyes twinkled, barely concealing his pride in Seaview’s captain and nodded back.  “Yes, more than a coincidence, I’m sure; but just what is causing the pings will remain a mystery until we have more data.”

 

“Aye,” Lee agreed.  “I’ll lay in a specific course when you finalize the coordinates.”

 

“No need to wait, I’ve done everything I can until I have more data,” he replied, the spark of discovery apparent in his eyes as it was obvious Harry was enjoying closing in on the mystery.  He reached for a pad and scribbled out the three coordinates in the order of importance.  “I’d also like to brief both you and Chip on the data collection parameters today.”

 

“That’s one of the reasons I stopped by,” Lee replied as Harry sat back.  “Chip has been feeling run-down lately; Jamie noticed and I practically had to strong arm him to Sickbay.”

 

Harry nodded.  “I’ve noticed it, too.”

 

Lee wasn’t surprised, not much escaped the Admiral even when he was seemingly engrossed in a scientific project.

 

“Jamie tells me he’s exhausted, although physically Chip is in top condition.”  Harry raised an eyebrow urging Lee to continue.  “He says he’s sleeping at night, just waking up tired.  Anyway, Doc prescribed a strong sedative which will keep him off his feet for the day.  He should be back on duty tomorrow, but I understand that Jamie wants him to take a light sleeping aid for the next three nights.”

 

“Hmmmm, sounds like a reasonable plan.  I’m sure he’ll be back to speed after a good night’s rest.”

 

“That’s what I’m hoping.  He’s healthy and from what I know, things are good at home, so I doubt we have anything more than an Executive Officer who doesn’t know when to shut down and rest.”

 

“Fine, we’ll schedule the briefing for tomorrow after Chip returns to duty,” Harry replied.  “Now, you said that was one of the reasons you dropped by,” he prodded.

 

Lee smiled.  “Just a little matter of lunch,” Seaview’s captain quipped, prompting the admiral to take a quick glance at his watch.

 

“Is it that time already?”

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

“Well then lead the way, Captain Crane,” Harry jested playfully, sweeping a hand toward the door.

 

Lee chuckled lightly and headed for the door, opening it and waiting for the Admiral to pass through before following.  He closed the door behind them, the two engaging in easy conversation on the way to the Wardroom.  Neither one noticed the drop in temperature in the lab as the misty presence returned, hovering over the sea chart where three red circles signaled where the great windowed vessel would begin its investigation.  The misty haze brightened into a neon green hue as it breathed out satisfaction in a whispery word, “freiheit,” before disappearing, departing with only a chill in the air as evidence that the lab had been visited by the misty apparition.

 

* * * * *

 

The mist reappeared in Morton’s cabin.  It had retreated back to its resting spot, the self-made prison it had forged for itself, but the anticipation of the windowed submarine’s arrival had been too enticing.  Even more enticing was the anticipation of wrapping itself in human flesh once again.  It hovered over the sleeping officer reveling in the strong life force of its chosen vessel.  Slowly and deliberately, it reached a tendril toward Morton’s forehead resulting in instant satisfaction as the tendril penetrated his flesh to greet the warmth of his life’s blood.  It stopped there to indulged itself in the river of life flowing through Morton’s veins, nearly losing itself in the intoxication of its warmth before penetrating deeper into Morton’s mind.  As it surged forward it was met with boggy resistance as the usually sharp mind of Seaview’s first officer was unusually bemired with grogginess.  The misty tentacle pushed further, not even invoking a twitch from the sleeping man, until it recognized the drug which had deeply sedated its chosen vessel.  It lingered, practically pouting at the lack of interaction it could indulge in before withdrawing from his mind.  It was well aware of the difference between the levels of possession; between using the mind and body for a short-term purpose and stealing the life-force completely by entering through the heart, gaining access to the place where the spirit resides.  It had no desire to do this, it wasn’t even sure it was strong enough to do so; and after witnessing the depths of Crane’s inner pain it had determined to accomplish its goal in the least obtrusive way.  It only hoped it could keep its resolve after tasting the breath of life again through Morton.  And more than once it had questioned himself, could he become so drunk in the blood flowing through his borrowed body that he could choose to keep the life for his own?  He didn’t think he was capable of such thievery, but he wasn’t unaware of the pull he had to occupy Morton’s body even before the submarine arrived at its coordinates.  Still, it was a chance that it had to take; it could no longer live in the prison it had fashioned for itself, and the call from the other side told him it was time to turn the watch over to another.  He withdrew from Morton’s mind invoking only a slight shiver as the sedated man barely reacted to the sudden chill in the air.  Only a few days more, he consoled himself before retreating back to the depths of the cold sea.

 

Chapter Five

 

Chip made his way to the Control Room, and as much as he hated to admit it, Jamie’s forced sleep had done wonders for him.  He woke feeling rested and ready to dive back into work; it wasn’t any wonder as the strong sedative had done its job and he had slept for 18 hours straight.  The spring in his step had returned, as did the sharpness of his mind.  He rounded the spiral staircase not surprised to see Lee at the Chart Table overseeing the watch change.

 

Lee turned toward the sound of his approaching steps and smiled thinly before turning his attention back to the charts before him.  Chip scanned the Control Room situation lights as he walked and sidled up to the Chart Table, satisfied that the boat was apparently operating efficiently.

 

“Good morning, Chip,” Lee greeted, pleased to see his XO looking so well rested.

 

“Good morning, Lee.”

 

“The Admiral supplied us with our first coordinates based on his research,” Lee continued, sparing Chip from further comments on his health in the Control Room. 

 

Chip was ready to get back to work, and appreciated Lee getting straight to business, looking down and quickly surveying the chart with a nod.

 

“We’re already on course for the coordinates of highest priority, and the Admiral wants to brief us on his intended plan for data recovery once we arrive.”

 

“Looks like that’s… about two days away,” Chip concluded doing some quick math in his head.

 

“42 hours to be exact,” Lee said with a small grin, tossing his pencil down and turning toward the junior officer currently retrieving a read-out from the Nav computer.  “You have the Con, Mr. Sawyer.”

 

“Aye Sir,” the young officer replied with a confident nod to his superior.

 

“If you need me, Mr. Morton and I will be in the Wardroom,” he replied in an announcement meant to inform Chip he was to join him as he headed for the aft hatch.

 

Chip would have liked to have stayed in the Control Room for a few minutes more to catch up on the entire day he slept away yesterday, but Lee’s unofficial order was apparent and he responded dutifully, following his commanding officer.

 

“You look well-rested,” Lee noted once they were underway in the relative privacy of the corridor.

 

“I feel fine, Lee,” the blond responded self-consciously, hoping to stave off too much scrutiny even though as captain, Lee was well within his rights and duty to push the matter.

 

Lee nodded, concerned not only for his friend, but necessarily needing to know the condition of his first officer.

 

“I bet you’re hungry,” he stated in light conversation, once again looking for the answer that would tell him that Chip was indeed back to normal.

 

Chip cracked a smile, loosening up and allowing the need to deflect attention away from his health to fade, and relaxing a bit in favor of the honesty his friendship deserved.

 

“Yeah, I guess I am; missed lunch and dinner with Jamie’s sleep cocktail,” he quipped.

 

Lee issued his own small grin.  “Been there, Buddy,” he jested, fully satisfied with Chip’s response and ready to move on. 

 

Chip, for his part, was equally ready to return to boat business or some other non-health topic.  The two eased into their normal conversations and by the time they arrived in the Wardroom he found that his appetite had indeed returned, eating heartily; much to the delight of Seaview’s CMO who had joined them for breakfast.

 

* * * * *

 

“And so, based on the empirical data available to us, our first coordinates will be here,” Admiral Nelson explained, pointing to the most southern, and closest set of coordinates, at the base of the triangle formed by three other points of interest.  “Now, I realize that these coordinates up here represent the highest activity of pings, however, it doesn’t make any sense to pass up these coordinates without stopping and investigating them first.”

 

Lee and Chip both nodded in full agreement as Harry continued to lay out the depth and breadth of the data they would be collecting.  A variety of tests and measurements on the environmental condition of the ocean surrounding the test areas were included as well as highly sensitive listening devices, in addition to Seaview’s sonar and hydrophones readings.  Water temperature, salinity, mammal and fish behavior, were all part of the study to determine the source of the strange pings that were frightening away sea life in the region.  Seaview was particularly suited for the study since she was, first and foremost, and exploration vehicle.  But her reserve status in the United States Navy also gave her a unique platform from which to investigate national security issues as well; and no one had ruled out that the mysterious pings were, indeed, man-made.

 

“Unless our findings compel us otherwise, we will spend two days in each of the coordinates that should give us sufficient time to gather data.  After we have collected the data at all three coordinates we will remain in the area until the data can be analyzed and the next step properly reached.  Based on the data, we will either stay and investigate further, or move on to the secondary data collection points.”

 

The Admiral sat back, inviting comments from his command team.

 

“It looks pretty straight forward, Sir,” Lee replied to Harry’s agreeing nod.

 

“What about the equipment operators?” Harry asked.

 

“Training is complete and all four watches have trained operators to collect data, per your instructions, Sir,” Chip replied.

 

“Very well, then we’ll be ready to conduct a very thorough investigation,” Harry noted, satisfied with the preparations.  “Of course, the optimum result would be if we actually heard the pings ourselves,” he added, reaching for his lukewarm coffee.  “Sonar and hydrophones will be our first indicators.”

 

“Aye Sir, the Watch operators have been briefed,” Chip assured Admiral Nelson.

 

Harry nodded his approval before folding his hands on the table to address both officers.  “Although we’re ready to investigate some sort of unexplained natural cause for the pings, I don’t want to lose sight of the fact that the disturbances are more than likely man-made,” he added solemnly.

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee replied.  “I’m afraid the cynical side of my nature is leaning in that direction, Sir,” he replied just as solemnly. 

 

It was, in fact, just the answer Harry wanted to hear; with Seaview’s captain focused on the possibility of an unknown entity’s undeclared technology, he could delve into possible natural causes knowing that they had all the bases covered.

 

“Good…” Harry stopped mid-sentence, his brow furrowing in irritation as a brush of cold air assailed him.  “Hasn’t the problem in the environmental controls been fixed yet?”

 

“Chip has had a maintenance detail on the system twice, Sir,” Lee answered, turning toward the XO for clarification.

 

“Aye Sir, we haven’t been able to narrow the intermittent problem down yet.  I’ll assign another detail…”

 

Harry raised a hand only partially hiding his current irritation.  “Never mind, I’ll take a look at it myself.”

 

“Very well, Sir, I’ll assign Chief Sharkey to assist you,” Chip replied, knowing that the two worked well together and hating to see a four-star admiral wrenching aboard a boat he was responsible for.  Nevertheless, he knew Harry’s hands-on care of the boat was as much part of Seaview as her captain’s late night-walks.

 

“Fine,” Harry conceded, before leaving behind his sour mood and realizing that the project would be a welcome diversion from all the time he had recently spent sequestered in his lab.   “Have Sharkey meet me at Environmental Controls in an hour,” he ordered.

 

“Aye Sir,” Chip replied as Harry stood, gathering the various charts he’d been referring to in the briefing, with both Lee and Chip following suit helping the admiral clear the table.

 

Harry tucked the folder under his arm and by the time he reached the spiral staircase his earlier irritation was left behind as he began to make a mental list of the areas he wanted to check first in the environmental system he had personally designed.

 

The briefing concluded, Lee headed to the Nav computer, checking to see if the prevailing sea currents required a course change, while Chip reached for the mic at the chart table.

 

“This is the Exec; Chief Sharkey, report to the Control Room at once,” he ordered which was followed by a crisp, “On my way, Sir.”

 

He picked up a straight edge just as Lee returned to the chart table. 

 

“Chip, execute a one-degree course correction to starboard and enter the following into Central Nav,” he ordered, scribbling off the new coordinates the Admiral has just provided to be entered at the main navigation computer in the Circuitry Room. 

 

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Chip replied, happy to be back in the thick of things and more than glad that no more had been said of his forced day of rest yesterday.  A brush of cool air had him shaking his head slightly, deciding that it was perhaps a good thing the Admiral was looking into their environmental controls himself.  He went about his work in his usually efficient manner, filling Sharkey in about the maintenance detail with the Admiral, while also delegating the task of adjusting the navigation settings in the Circuitry Room to the boat’s Chief.

 

* * * * *

 

The visitor disguised its presence in Seaview’s nose, keeping itself from manifesting its misty haze, though unable to prevent the cold chill of death from being noticed as it watched with interest the plans made to investigate the “pings” it had created for this very purpose.  It swelled with anticipation, first at Nelson’s brilliance narrowing down the target study area, and then unexpectedly a second time when it honed its attention on its chosen vessel.  It had been warned of the dangers of lusting for life once even a partial possession had been achieved.  It should have shrunk back and schooled itself for the overwhelming anticipation to feed its desire for warm blood running through its veins again; but it could not.  To feel human, to feel life coursing through his veins again in the body of a warm living being was as great a temptation as he had ever faced before. 

 

He had abandoned referring to himself with a male pronoun years ago; feeling that his existence had been stripped away to a mere it.  But, the anticipation of owning Morton’s body, if only for a short time exhilarated him, releasing an increased measure of chill into the air. 

 

Suddenly, Nelson stopped and looked annoyingly toward the vent, commenting on the environmental controls.  It was perhaps a blunder on his part, but not enough of an error to deter his plans.  As the officers cleared away the conference table it kept its focus on Morton; his Nordic features a pleasing match for the form he once had when he was young and alive. 

 

Patience, he reminded himself; his goal was far more important than satisfying his growing desire to taste life again.  He had to stay true to the course; too much was riding on the outcome to lose himself to the temptation that now lay squarely before him.  He drew on every bit of self-discipline he had acquired in his own existence to withdraw from Morton’s presence.  However, he couldn’t find it within himself to return to his prison in the cold, icy sea; the lure of life aboard the sub was too great; the years of isolation guarding his secret too painful.  So, he found a place to observe; to watch and wait for the right time to enact his plan to lure Seaview to the source of the mysterious pings.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Chip tightened the Windsor knot of his tie, snugging it into place under his collar and barely avoiding whistling as he did so.  He wasn’t a whistler and never engaged in the activity as an outlet for his good mood, but today he was feeling down-right chipper.  Ugh! he thought silently, rolling his eyes at the memory of his sisters’ irritating use of the pun growing up; but the truth was, he had slept like a rock the last few nights and had woke feeling refreshed and rested.  It had felt good to be back on top of his game, and he had to admit, Jamie’s forced day of rest was just what he needed.  Whatever had plagued his ability to rest the last few weeks had apparently worked itself out, and he couldn’t be happier.

 

He put aside his self-reflection, another activity he rarely engaged in, and took one final look in the mirror mounted on the inside of his closet door.  He nodded at the reflection, gauging his appearance as suitable for an XO, and closed the door.  A quick glance at the clock told him it was time to check in with the Control Room before heading to the Wardroom.  He stepped out into the corridor, closing his cabin door behind him, and heading with sure steps toward the spiral staircase.  His routine was back, and he had returned in his usual efficient form, feeling good and ready to take on the challenges of the day. 

 

Today, Seaview would reach her first target destination to investigate the mysterious pings in the Arctic Ocean.

 

* * * * *

 

“All stop,” Seaview’s captain ordered, his eyes scanning the seas before him, even though the flood lights only illuminated about twenty feet in front of the bow.  The repeated order and subsequent execution of his command was noted in the background, but Lee’s attention was on the seas before him.  Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he reached for the mic on the Chart Table and clicked.

 

“We’re in position, Admiral.  One hundred feet, keel to bottom; trim satisfactory.”

 

“Very well, Lee.  Station here until further notice.  We’ll start the first tests after we deploy the equipment.”

 

“Aye Sir, Mr. Morton is on his way,” he replied with a nod toward Chip to proceed to the Missile Room to oversee the detail. 

 

“On my way, Skipper,” Chip replied, heading aft.  Though Chief Sharkey was supervising the actual deployment, Chip wanted to observe the process in order to brief the next watches.

 

He passed a few crewmen in the corridor, but was caught completely off-guard when a rush of freezing air whipped through his body, leaving him staggering.  The air did more than chill him, it permeated his very being.  By the time it passed completely through he was leaning heavily against the bulkhead with his hand pressed against his forehead.  A strange fuzzy existence briefly took over before the word “freiheit” was breathed into his ear.  Just as quickly, the air had returned to normal as Chip pushed himself off the wall, blinking away the fuzziness of his mind and taking stock of his well-being.  He had no explanation for nearly blacking out, and indeed, had no recollection of the connection that had been established, nor the word deposited into his subconscious.  He shook his head slightly, and continued on his way to the Missile Room, filing the event away to be dealt with later and only if he suffered another near fainting spell. 

 

* * * * *

 

The connection with Morton had been made; it was much different than probing his mind for memories while he slept.  The instructions that were downloaded during the probe could now be accessed and called into action with the new connection.  From this state, it could intervene using Morton’s form to achieve its goal.

 

The thought of using Morton’s form sent a sense of excitement through its being, as he reminisced about what it felt to be warm again; to leave behind the icy chill of death and actually live again.  He couldn’t help but think of such things; the lust of life was too great to ignore, and he was too honest with himself to deny exactly what it was.  But something greater called him, something he had dared not hoped for so long.  If he stayed the course, he could fulfill his mission as Guardian by passing it onto someone else, and then he would be free to answer the call that drove his actions now.

 

The connection was strong, and he savored the temporary exhilarating feel of life before breaking the connection to continue on his way.  He’d been patient for forty years; he could be patient for a few days more.

 

* * * * *

 

The Missile Room was filled with several pieces of equipment not normally found in the state of the art weapons deployment room.  The well was open and the winch was currently in use to position the largest of the underwater detection equipment.  The misty visitor concealed his presence, watching with interest the new equipment and how far technology had come since he’d been away.  He was already impressed with Seaview and knew that her deep diving capabilities went far beyond anything he could have dreamt in the past; and with windows to boot! 

 

He had roamed the boat, more out of curiosity than anything, and remembered the first time he’d noted the vessel as it passed several hundred miles past his prison nearly two years ago.  He had marveled even then at the fantastic vessel.  It was about the same time that he had begun to feel the call from the other side; the same call that drove his actions now. 

 

His guardianship over the secret had now taken second place to his desires to answer the beckon.  He began seeing his guardianship as more of a prison forged by his own hands, and desired greatly to end his bondage… the forced stewardship of this secret.  It was then that he began to create the disturbances needed to gain the attention first of the local village hunters, and then the Canadian naval authorities.  Then the scientific oceanic organizations got involved, and it had only taken a minor connection with one of the lead scientists to suggest that Nelson and his submarine might be able to solve the mystery.  The process had taken precious time, and he was beginning to become desperate.  So, when he’d learned that Nelson and the Seaview were coming, he couldn’t resist seeking out a suitable vessel.  He connected first with Morton, and knew that he had lingered there beyond what was necessary.  He had tasted life again, and its temptation was as strong as the Call.  Even now, he was considering the subliminal instructions he had deposited into Morton, pondering how much more satisfying a full possession would be.

 

“Fifty feet to bottom,” Chip called out from the sensor’s computer station.

 

“Aye Sir,” Kowalski replied, operating the winch as Riley stood by ready to cool the reel should the friction create too much heat.

 

“Thirty feet… twenty… ten… bottom,” he called out and nodded approvingly.  “Nice smooth touchdown, good job Kowalski,” he complimented as he reached for the mic.  “Morton to Captain Crane.”

 

“Crane here.”

 

“The equipment is in place and ready to transmit.”

 

“Very well; initiate data collection protocol, the Admiral is ready.”

 

Chip hung up the mic and nodded toward Patterson, who was operating the control station, as the efficient rating brought the equipment online; flipping switches and turning dials before reporting his progress.

 

“She’s online and transmitting, Sir.”

 

“Very well, maintain your posts and be ready to respond to Admiral Nelson’s requests.”  A collective ‘Aye Sir’ followed as Chip raised the mic again.  “Chief Sharkey to the Missile Room.”

 

“Aye Sir, on my way.”

 

Chip continued to monitor the data collection process until Sharkey arrived a few moments later.

 

“Reporting as ordered, Sir.”

 

“Very well, Chief.  Keep an eye on things here and advise me directly if you have any problems.”

 

“Aye, Sir.  We’ll do,” Sharkey replied confidently, as Chip nodded and headed for the hatch.

 

Chip stepped over the hatch, noting the elusive coolness that even the Admiral had yet to identify and correct.  Upon failure to find the intermittent problem, the Admiral had subsequently ordered a complete diagnostic of all the wires and circuitry involved.  He made a mental note to inquire of the maintenance detail’s progress and continued on his way to the Control Room.

 

* * * * *

 

He watched with interest, his scientific curiosity aroused as Seaview’s crew lowered the devices into the depths; the increase of scientific knowledge since he’d been away was truly fascinating.  Of course, he knew that all the equipment and detection devices in the world couldn’t find the source of the pings, no matter how sophisticated.  Nelson was looking for something physical to account for the reason mammals had scattered from the area; something man-made or perhaps a natural phenomenon yet to be discovered.  There was indeed, something man-made yet to be discovered, but it wasn’t the source of the disturbances… only the incentive.  He alone was the instigator of the disturbances; the thought brought a sense of satisfaction to his being.  He had lured Seaview here, creating a mystery for Nelson and his crew to solve.  He had cleverly created a triangle of activity in order to keep the discovery out of the hands of the wrong people.  He trusted no one, former allies the least, but if he were to free himself from this self-imposed prison he would have to take a well-calculated gamble on Admiral Nelson.  

 

The crew lowered the equipment with care; they were well-trained and able men, not the least of these was Morton.  As he watched Seaview’s crew he realized how much he missed the vitality of life and the adventure of living.  The thought was disturbing.  He had been warned that prolonged contact with humans was dangerous to not only his mission, but to his soul.  He needed to back off, go back to his plan of strategically placing disturbances for Seaview to find, leading them like a breadcrumb trail to the place he had hidden and protected for so long. 

 

His self-contemplation was interrupted, even before his resolve had been found, as Morton left the Missile Room.  The sudden movement of his chosen vessel had caught him off-guard as he hurried to catch up leaving a cool breath of presence behind.  He needed only to taste life for a few seconds, he reasoned as Morton walked the empty corridor.  Pushing everything he believed in aside, he made his decision and rushed toward the blond; his presence so strong Chip was thrown against the bulkhead.  The warmth of blood pumping through Morton’s body was his first sensation as he relished the life coursing through the veins of his vessel.  His presence was over-powering as he lavished in Morton’s life force, even as the tall, blond-headed officer slid down the bulk head to his knees. 

 

He was drunk on the life at his disposal, when he suddenly heard the sound of approaching steps.  Quickly, he released Morton and retreated to the ventilation system with the warmth of Morton’s blood rapidly dissipating throughout its shapeless, misty form.  He watched from the ventilation shaft as Morton found his way to his feet, holding himself upright with one hand against the wall and another to his forehead.  The corridor remained empty as the approaching crewmen took the ladder before turning down this corridor, leaving Morton to shake the fuzziness from his head in private.

 

It had been close, but the thrill of life had been invigorating.  His misty presence swelled as a new feeling of domination and control washed over him.  The thought brought immediate self-admonishment as he shrank back from the vent grate.  He watched Morton recover and continue on his way, and reiterated his plan with a new sense of urgency.  Indeed, the Call from the other side now had an equally strong competitor vying for his attention; the opportunity to live again inside the stolen body of Chip Morton.

 

* * * * *

 

Chip woke, finding himself on his knees and leaning heavily against the bulkhead.  He blew a breath out, trying to shake the cobwebs from his brain and shuddered at the coolness of the air around him.  The sound of several crewmen talking in a nearby corridor urged him to find his way to his feet, using the wall to steady himself and rubbing his head on the way up.  He blinked the dizziness from his head and found his strength returning, then took a deep breath as he heard the crewmen take the ladder up a deck.  He pushed off the wall, grateful that he wouldn’t have to explain this blackout to the crewmen, mostly because he couldn’t explain it.  He was at a loss as to what had just happened. 

 

He took a few steps forward, finding that he was sound once again and moved toward the nearest mic; reaching for it and ready to activate it with a click before rethinking his decision and shipping the mic.  He felt fine now, and didn’t want Jamie fussing over him and sidelining him back to his cabin.  He headed back to Control Room, trying to convince himself that all he needed was a cup of hot coffee with an extra teaspoon of sugar.

 

* * * * *

 

“Another report, Admiral,” Sharkey said, handing Harry the latest from the sensor readings.  They’d been stationed at these coordinates for the last five hours and had received a slew of data.  Most, just the sounds an oceanographer might expect to hear; passing mammals, occasional mechanical sounds that turned out to be Seaview’s own sounds of operation bouncing off the equipment from time to time, and a few underwater quakes that were too slight to feel, but registered by the sensitive equipment.

 

Harry reached for the report and shrugged his shoulders at the similar data they had already identified with earlier readings.

 

“Very well, Chief.”

 

“What do you think?” Lee asked, leaning over the conference table in the Nose and waiting for Harry’s final assessment.

 

“I think we’ve exhausted our study here,” he answered, not at all discouraged and understanding full well that the scientific method required patience and perseverance.  “Let’s move on to the next sector.”

 

“Shall I drop a probe?” Lee inquired.

 

“Absolutely, our findings here should help to identify any anomalous reading we might incur later.”

 

“Very well,” Lee said, straightening and starting to turn before turning back.  “Oh, and shall we employ the Net?” he asked, referring to the super-sensitive electronic net often used to detect unauthorized radio transmissions, that had been readjusted to gather other data sensitive to their search, as well.

 

Harry nodded in concurrence.  “Yes, it will slow down our cruising speed, but it should be an invaluable tool to map out any disturbances as we travel.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” he rendered with a nod and turned toward Sharkey.

 

“Chief, send a diving team out to secure a probe.”

 

“Aye, Sir.”

 

“Chip, secure the detection equipment back aboard and have a Detail break-out the net.  We’ll deploy as soon as the probe is in place.”

 

“Aye, Skipper.”

 

Lee headed toward the Chart Table, making log entries for their next sector as Seaview’s crew prepared to continue their search.

 

Meanwhile, their unknown visitor nervously calculated how long it would take for Seaview to reach the proper coordinates at this rate.  His patience for the well-thought out plan was beginning to wear thin, causing a cool breeze to waft through the ventilation ducts while he considered his next move.

 

Chapter Seven

 

It was only a matter of time before Seaview would find the secret installation; he had made the necessary arrangements in a carefully designed plan to lure the great vessel here.  He had decided to add another breadcrumb for Nelson to follow in the morning, and had convinced himself to stay the course of his original plan.  With the atmospheric disturbance complete, he now roamed the submarine seeking to satisfy an increasing need to experience life again.  With night time currently being simulated there were fewer crewmen moving about as he sought after and found a suitable vessel. 

 

A young seaman wearing a red jumpsuit sat on the deck inspecting a maintenance panel and working alone.  Though he knew it was risky, he yearned for the taste of life again.  He moved from his hiding place behind the air vent, swiftly descending upon his target and wafting his presence through the young man.  He lingered for several long moments of possession, almost losing himself before retreating back to the vent as the young man fell against the bulkhead, blinking his eyes and rubbing his forehead.  He watched as the seaman wrapped his arms around himself, clearly shaken by the strong presence he hadn’t bothered to hide and the chill he had left behind.  Finally, the seaman shook his head and leaned over to finish his work, leaving the entity with only a taste of what he really desired. 

 

Like an alcoholic who cancels his sobriety by taking that first forbidden drink, the entity went in search for something more to satisfy his thirst for life.

 

* * * * *

 

He only needed a few moments, he argued silently, attempting to console himself with the short possession as a means of satisfying his need like the quick fix of an addict.  Thus, he had moved forward, accepting no more arguments from his better senses, and finding a strange satisfaction in the dominance and control it elicited.  This was a new feeling for him, one he had not been seeking; but after so many years of utter loneliness in spirit form, he had found these encounters to be too hard to ignore.  He had been warned that to step over this boundary line would put his very soul in danger.  That alone should have stopped his actions, but as he left the young seaman to regain his wits, he knew he would seek another. 

 

He moved through the vent system toward the crew’s quarters, drawn like an insect to light by the overwhelming heat of warm blood and there he searched for a vessel.  The bunk room was quiet as he roamed from bunk to bunk shielding his misty existence until he settled upon one seaman, recognizing the crewman who had manned sonar earlier in the day.  He allowed his misty presence to manifest itself and then entered through the mind to explore the memories of Seaman Kowalski.  A twitch of the young man’s head signaled the invasion, but he pressed in further to experience life vicariously through his memories and dreams.  It wasn’t as rich as a possession, but he had found the experience intriguing with the others, especially Crane. 

 

He saturated himself in a lifetime of memories as the seaman tossed his head from time to time, losing all track of time until an alarm signaling morning rang somewhere in the bunk room.  He was forced to withdraw, practically drunk on the experiences he had observed and even participated in vicariously.  He retreated to the vent, taking one last look at the young seaman who sat on his bunk, rubbing his neck and wondering why he had had such a hard night sleep.

 

* * * * *

 

“We had several readings last night,” Lee said, handing the reports to Harry, who was sitting in Seaview’s nose, “including a sea quake in our target area.”

 

“Hmm, the Net registered contacts in Sector 3 as well.”

 

“Yes Sir, and Sparks just received the weather reports you asked for,” he said, presenting another report to the Admiral.

 

Harry chuckled.  “Another aurora,” he noted.  “This one wasn’t completely unexpected, but the predicted activity increased from a level two to a ten.”

 

“How likely is it that someone made a mistake?  I mean, the weather is notoriously unpredictable,” Lee asked in an attempt to understand if the unexpected activity was actually related to the quakes or the contact “pings” that had registered the night prior, or was just some great coincidence.

 

“No, I don’t think so,” Harry replied shaking his head resolutely.  “It’s all very mathematical,” he insisted.  “No, I believe we’re on the track of discovering a real phenomenon here.”

 

Lee nodded, accepting Harry’s opinion and moving on.  “We’ll arrive at Sector Two in twenty-five minutes.  Shall we secure the Net and lower the detection equipment?”

 

“Yes, by all means,” Harry answered, perusing the reports and then laying them down on the table.  “Good sound methodology will produce the best data.  Jumping over this sector and running ahead to Sector 3 won’t serve the mission well at all.  It’s best to continue cataloging the readings and moving from sector to sector.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee agreed; knowing Admiral Nelson well and having a good understanding of sound data collection methodology, had already come to that same conclusion.  “I’ll take care of it,” he replied, leaving Harry to examine the reports in more detail.

 

* * * * *

 

“What gives, Kowalski?” Chief Sharkey asked in a soft whisper with a side glance toward the Chart Table.

 

“What do you mean, Chief?” the perplexed seaman asked, barely holding back a yawn.

 

“You’d better not let the Exec see you yawning like that kid.  Did you stay up all night playing poker or what?”

 

“No, Chief, I swear.  I just woke up feeling tired this morning, is all.  I’ll be alright,” he assured.

 

Sharkey stole another side-glance toward the Chart Table where the Skipper and Mr. Morton were currently busy, and nodded in agreement.  “Okay kid, just stay sharp,” he admonished.

 

“You got it,” Kowalski promised, putting his attention keenly on the sonar equipment and trying to make sense of the weird feeling he had as he woke up this morning.

 

* * * * *

 

The next evening followed a similar pattern, with the spirit first finding a seaman to possess momentarily before moving to the crew’s quarters and selecting another vessel to invade.  This time it found Stu Riley, and though he found the young man to be an oddity with his strange surfing dialog, he also found the vitality of life in the crewman to be nearly as satisfying as a waking possession.  By the next morning, there had been enough disturbances that the young men began sharing their individual experiences.

 

“I’m telling you, there’s something strange going on in this boat,” Ski said, leaning over the table in the crew’s mess and tapping his finger on the table demonstrably on the last word.

 

“I don’t know,” Patterson said with a shrug, always the voice of reason and not one to jump onto unsubstantiated rumors quite as quickly as some of his crewmates.

 

“Look at Stu here, he looks as exhausted as I was yesterday,” he whispered, not wanting to spread too much scuttlebutt until they knew what they were talking about.

 

“Yeah man, and did I dream some crazy dreams last night.  I swear it felt like someone else was in my dreams,” the strawberry blond added with a shrug.  “I mean someone creepy!” he qualified and then shuddered visibly.

 

“And ask Russel what happened a couple of nights ago.”

 

The young Filipino shook his head, still visibly shaken by the experience.  “I was working on C deck, inspecting a wiring maintenance panel when everything got real cold,” he recited, as his fellow crewmen nodded; everyone had felt the icy chill at one time or another and so far, they had not been able to isolate and correct the problem in Air Revitalization.  “Then something… happened.  I don’t know what, it just felt icy cold, and then I blacked out.  I don’t think I was out long, but when I woke I could have sworn I saw a strange mist.”

 

“Smoke?” Patterson inquired, his brow tightening.

 

“No, not smoke.  A mist,” he repeated.  “An eerie mist… a ghostly mist,” he finished resolutely, committing to what he had already decided privately.

 

“Yeah, and other crewmen have seen the mist too,” Riley joined in.

 

“Why hasn’t anyone reported it?” Patterson asked, still holding out for something better than the supernatural to explain the strange happenings.

 

“Just like me,” Ski jumped in.  “I woke up feeling like I had shared my mind with someone else while I slept.  I wasn’t going to put myself in Doc’s straight jacket,” he defended.

 

“So, you think the sub’s haunted?” Pat asked, still skeptical, but he knew his fellow crewmen well, and though they were a superstitious lot, they were also men who didn’t scare easily.  Something had shaken up the crew, and that was for sure.

 

“Do you have a better explanation?” Ski asked, as more crewmen joined the table, standing behind them to participate in the discussion.

 

“I don’t know, but I think we should report it,” Pat suggested.

 

“Report what?” they heard as Chief Sharkey entered the crew’s mess to see what had become a large gathering at one of the tables.  Red flags alerted him to a possible situation that he might need to deal with, so he interjected himself into the conversation, invoking his duty as Chief of the Boat to keep the order aboard.

 

The crewmen exchanged glances with one another, no one ready to go out on a limb just yet, but unable to ignore the Chief’s tone that required an answer.

 

“Something’s been going on the last couple of nights, Chief,” Ski spoke up.  “Heck, it’s more than that; it’s been going on since we set sail.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Sharkey scoffed.

 

“The scuttlebutt is that Seaview is haunted,” Kowalski said.  “And I for one, believe it,” he added resolutely as others nodded in agreement, some crossing their arms to show their solidarity.

 

“Haunted?” Sharkey said, laughing off the absurdity, but then wiping the half-smile off his face; he’d seen enough aboard Seaview to know it wouldn’t be the first time.  “Alright you jokers, why don’t you tell me what’s the poop here,” he all but demanded as each of the affected crew began telling their part of the mystery, that was now threatening to snowball into a real situation as more and more crewmen signed on to the idea that Seaview had a ghost roaming her decks.

 

* * * * *

 

“Mr. Morton?” Sharkey called sheepishly.

 

“Yes, Chief,” the dutiful Executive Officer replied, still looking down at the sea chart in front of him.

 

“Well, Sir, there’s some scuttlebutt going through the boat that I thought you should know about.”

 

Chip raised his head and furled his brow.  “What scuttlebutt?”

 

“Well, Sir, some of the guys… well, they think that Seaview’s got a ghost roaming her decks,” he said apologetically, but still with enough conviction to say that he believed it as well.

 

“A… ghost?” Chip repeated incredulously, his brow rising at the absurdity of the claim.

 

“Yes, Sir, I told them that it was ridiculous, but a few of the men say they actually felt a presence pass through them.”

 

Chip stood upright and pursed his bottom lip in total disbelief.  “Chief, you know as well as I do, that the men get a little skittish under the ice.  I’m sure the scuttlebutt will lose its momentum as soon as we clear the ice pack.”

 

Sharkey nodded enthusiastically, having not thought of that possibility.  Sure!  It wasn’t unusual for sailors to get a little squirmy going under the ice, he agreed silently.  “I tried to tell them, Sir,” he bluffed, “but you know how superstitious the men can be?” he added, excluding himself from that same assessment, even though he had approached the XO completely bought into the idea.

 

Chip nodded.  “You just let me know if the scuttlebutt causes any difficulties affecting their work.  I’ll deal with it then.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” Sharkey replied, ready to kill the scuttlebutt and wring Kowalski’s neck for making such a big deal out of it in the first place.  He left the Chart Table and headed back to his duty station at the Position Board, barely keeping himself from slapping the back of Ski’s head as he passed by.  A ghost! He repeated disgustedly to himself.  Some people will believe anything!

 

Chip raised his head and watched Chief Sharkey as he retreated confidently to his duty station.  His eyes then turned toward Captain Crane, who was currently busy at the Nav computer.  He laid down his pencil in a slow deliberate move, then turned and headed to the spiral staircase, stopping briefly at the bottom of the steps with his hand on the rail to make sure the captain was still busy then took the stairs silently to the next deck.  He looked both ways, ensuring he was alone, before the spirit released its hold on the Lt. Commander.  His withdrawal left the blond officer sagging against the bulkhead weakly, before sliding down to his knees where he sat for a moment regaining both his strength and his lucidity.  He took a deep breath in, and pushed himself up the wall before examining his present position and looking up and down the corridors for some sort of clue as to how he’d gotten there.  Apparently, he had blacked-out, he thought silently and took a few checking steps.  He felt perfectly fine now and heaved a sigh.

 

“Mr. Morton to the Control Room.”

 

He moved quickly to the mic hanging on the bulkhead only a few feet away, and snagged it up.  “Mr. Morton, Aye.  I’ll be right there,” he said, answering Lee’s hail and moving toward the staircase.  His strength had returned, and he knew that they were getting ready to lower the detection equipment again, and felt that he had no time to deal with this health anomaly right now.  If he had another episode, he’d be sure to report himself to Sickbay, but for right now, he deemed it counterproductive to the work at hand and took the stairs down without any evidence of his early infirmary.

 

“Sorry, Lee, I had to check on something,” he said, sidling up to the Chart Table.

 

“Very well,” Lee said, not needing to know exactly what Chip was checking on; it was the XO’s job to check on a plethora of activity aboard the boat in order to free the captain from the mundane issues of running a submarine.  “The Missile Room is ready to deploy the detection equipment,” he informed his first officer, knowing that Chip had overseen the deployment each of the previous days.

 

“Aye, Sir, I’ll head directly there,” he replied and took a step away from the table only to hear Lee call him back.

 

“Chip.”

 

“Aye Sir,” he answered, turning back.

 

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked with the furled brow of both his captain and friend expressing his concern.

 

“I feel fine, Lee.  Why do you ask?”

 

“Nothing, you just look a little worn out.”

 

“I’m fine, Lee,” he said, adding a small convincing smile.

 

“Very well,” Lee said, returning to the work at hand.  “Notify me when the gear is in place,” he said, reaching for the mic to inform that Admiral that the next round of data collection was about to be commence.

 

* * * * *

 

It was the first time that he had experienced a full possession to this degree.  In previous times, he had entered and occupied the crewmen for only moments before releasing them and retreating, but this time, he had actually controlled Morton.

 

He had unintentionally stirred up the crew with his late-night activities and when Chief Sharkey came to report the events, he was afraid Seaview’s Executive Officer would link the activity to his own.  He couldn’t risk an investigation into the ghostly games that had upset the crew.  So, he had hastily entered Morton to deter the situation from an investigation.  The result had been the greatest high yet of his experiences aboard Seaview.  He had no idea the incredible rush of adrenaline his disembodied spirit could generate in the vessel he was possessing, while controlling his mind to the point that Morton was completely under his command.  He spoke through Morton, and from everyone else’s standpoint, there had been absolutely no clue that the real Chip Morton lay dormant within.  So much so, that when he had woken in the corridor, he hadn’t even a memory of the conversation with Chief Sharkey at all.  This level of possession was exhilarating, and indeed, had felt his powerful influence as a spirit increase after the experience. 

 

He was aware that there was another level of possession that actually enabled the vessel to be aware of the controlling spirit’s actions.  He had witnessed it through Crane’s memories when Krueger had possessed him in a grand scheme to steal his body permanently.  However, this level required more skill and power than he was currently capable.  To be honest, he had previously found Krueger’s possession disturbing when he had probed Crane earlier; but now, he found himself strangely intrigued by the possibility.

 

He withdrew further into the ventilation shaft and traveled his icy path to the Missile Room.  There he would continue to bask in his increased power and strength as he observed the data collection.  They were only a few days from arriving at the sector where the site was located, and he had done a good job of laying out a breadcrumb trail ahead of Seaview’s path.  He had no doubt, that Nelson would find the installation, but as he watched Seaview’s crew lower the detection equipment, he felt an odd question form in his mind: Did he really want to answer the Call and move on… or had he found a more exciting way to experience life again?

 

Chapter Eight

 

Harry studied the chart intently, barely registering the casual, but familiar knock at his cabin door.  “Come in, Lee,” he replied, barely lifting his head when the door opened.

 

“You wanted to see me, Admiral?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

 

“Yes, Lee,” he replied, sitting back and sighing contemplatively.  “I’d like you to look at something here.”

 

Lee crossed the deck and moved beside Harry, leaning over his shoulder to examine the chart in question on the Admiral’s desk.

 

“As you can see, this shows all the sectors we mapped prior to sailing.”  Lee nodded in recognition as Harry continued.  “These red dots show the recent activity since our search began; in either pings, electromagnet disturbances in the atmosphere as seen in the unexpected aurora activity, or sea quakes in our target areas” he detailed, tapping his pencil against the chart with increasing fervor.  “Here’s where we started, notice anything unusual?” he asked, sitting back.

 

Lee studied the chart, leaning over with one hand flat on the desk, the other tucked casually into the back pocket of his slacks.  He expelled a blow of breath and answered non-committedly.  “It looks to me like we’re on the right trail,” he answered with a shrug.

 

“Yes, but I’m beginning to feel a little like Hansel and Gretel here,” Harry cautioned, sitting back in his chair and leaning back.

 

“What do you mean?” the dark-haired captain asked, his curiosity piqued as he slid his hip onto the edge of Harry’s desk in a casual position he often took in less than formal meetings.

 

“Just look again.  Each sector we searched was followed by new activity the following night… in the next sector!” he explained, adding the last with extra fervor.  “Now, I know we’ve elicited good, sound methodology; but Lee, no one is that good.  It’s all too convenient.”

 

“But we’ve utilized ultra-sensitive detection equipment; and the Net isn’t standard equipment on the other vessels investigating the pings…”

 

“I know, I know,” Harry interrupted, throwing his hands demonstratively into the air, “But it’s almost as though someone knows we’re coming and they’re just leading us there,” he finished almost disgustedly.

 

“Hmmm, I see what you mean,” Lee agreed upon further consideration, pursing his lips while studying the chart from his seated position.  “I’m not at all comfortable, Admiral, I don’t mind saying,” he said, standing and pacing in front of the desk.  “What if Seaview is being lured somewhere, like you’ve suggested.  I agree; no other vessel in the last year of investigation has had the breaks we’ve had, special equipment or no.”

 

“Well, we haven’t exactly discovered the source of the pings yet,” Harry cautioned.

 

“Yes, I know, but your data is a little hard to ignore,” Lee countered, his hand swaying toward the charts demonstratively before deflating into a guest chair across from Harry.  “What do you suggest?”

 

“We stay the course…”  Lee sat forward as Harry raised a hand in the air to stave off the impending protest and continued, “…but proceed with extra diligence.”

 

Lee nodded in agreement then shook his head in thought.  “I don’t know, Admiral, if it is an illegal mining operation utilizing sonar to keep away the local hunters and such, then why lead us there?  It just doesn’t figure.”

 

“I agree,” Harry answered; an illegal mining operation was the first and most plausible theory behind the pings sonar was picking up.  “Frankly, I’m more concerned about the possibility of our second theory for the source of the pings.”

 

“A secret foreign government spy installation,” Lee said, sitting forward again, apparently on the same page as the Admiral.

 

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.  “I don’t want to tip our hand to whoever is conveniently providing the clues for us to follow, but we’re going to have to proceed with extreme caution.”

 

“Aye, Sir, and we can’t dismiss the idea that Seaview herself may have been the target of the mysterious pings all along,” Lee proposed.

 

“That is real possibility,” Harry agreed, emphasizing his point with a finger tap on the desk in front of him.

 

“Should I put the boat on alert?” Lee asked; Harry’s opinion ranking high in his decision, even though technically, he wasn’t obliged to ask for permission to do so.

 

“I’m inclined to say, no, at least not yet; but, if tonight follows the same pattern as previous evenings then we should consider stepping the crew’s readiness up a notch.”

 

“That’s my thinking as well.  Right now, the crew is in scientific data collection mode; if the bread crumbs keep falling, I’m going to take us to General Quarters.”

 

Harry nodded; his captain’s decision was valid with the information currently on hand.  “Very well, Lee; for now, let’s keep the diligence up and follow the trail.”

 

“I just hope there isn’t a wicked witch waiting for us when we get there,” Lee half-joked, but very much serious in his concern, especially since the elusive pings had managed to evade other research vessels, while seeming to lead them efficiently along.

 

“Oh, I think we’re a little smarter than Hansel and Gretel,” Harry returned with an upturned smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes, that shouted his confidence in Seaview and her captain’s ability to deal with whatever lay ahead.

 

“Aye, Sir,” Lee said, chuckling and standing.  “Well, on that note, I think I’ll take a walk about the boat,” he announced.

 

“Tuck her in and then get some rest, Lee.  Seaview’s going to need you in top form the closer we get to solving this mystery.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” he replied, stopping with one hand on the doorknob, before nodding and pulling the door closed behind him.

 

Harry leaned over with his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his folded hands and sighed in silent contemplation.  He and Lee thought alike, and the idea that Seaview herself was the target was becoming a very real possibility.  It was an elaborate scheme that would have required great patience, but he just couldn’t shake the very real possibility that someone actually wanted Seaview to find the source of the pings that had, thus far, evaded every other research vessel to date.

 

* * * * *

 

The spirit lingered over Chip Morton in a misty haze, debating whether to probe his memory and dreams as he slept.  He had found that what had started as a need to find the most suitable vessel for his plan; had turned into a real need to satisfy an increasingly strong desire to experience life again.  Probing minds was, perhaps, less satisfying than full possession; but it did provide enough of a charge to his icy cold existence to quell his hunger.  Hunger.  Yes, that is what the desire for life, not to mention the warmth of blood flowing through a body once again, was producing inside him.   He had gone decades without it, never even so much as thinking about it, and never knowing how strong the desire could be once he had tasted it again. 

 

The haze swelled at the last thought, glowing in an almost neon yellow shade as his hunger for life demanded another vessel… but not Morton.  He would need Morton tomorrow.  Nelson’s methodology had been exact and predictable, but as they reached Sector 3 tomorrow he would need to “guide” Seaview to the installation, or Nelson might just collect his data and move onto the next sector.

 

He looked forward to tomorrow’s possession, as much to fill what was fast becoming an unquenchable desire, as for fulfilling the mission that had started this whole pursuit in the first place.  The last thought frightened him, for the need to live again in true human form was growing stronger every day.  So strong, that he had changed his plans to include another possession of Morton.  Originally, he had probed Morton’s mind in order to condition the officer; downloading a task that Morton would complete in what amounted to a hypnotic trance.  However, that was before he had experienced the powerful surge of life through possession.  It would have been unthinkable a year ago, to even consider such a thought; and yet here he was looking for a body to possess as his own, if only for a short while… or perhaps longer, he added, the thought almost not his own.

 

Morton stirred, pulling the blanket higher, no doubt affected by his icy presence as the spirit withdrew in an effort to hide his manifestation.  He passed under the door and headed purposefully to another cabin in Officer’s Country.  He needed another fix, and like the alcoholic who searches the house for hidden bottles stashed away, so he went in search of another to satisfy his hunger. 

 

* * * * *

 

Perhaps, his desires weren’t like an addiction after all, he contemplated as he hovered over the prone form of Captain Lee Crane, asleep in his bunk.  Perhaps, he was more like a vampire seeking his next victim, he wondered, for he was well aware that his nightly visitations were costly to his subjects.  They woke exhausted from the experience, and over a prolonged period of time, Morton’s health had even deteriorated to the need of forced rest with the aid of a heavy sedative. 

 

That realization alone should have stopped him.  He should have chosen the higher road of self-sacrifice, but that was the same road that had led him to this self-imprisonment to begin with, and he quickly rejected the idea.  This grand plan of his would reach its conclusion in the next few days, and right now, he couldn’t… he wouldn’t deny himself the warmth of life. 

 

So, here he was probing Captain Crane’s mind again, searching for certain memories.  Not just any memories, but ones that only a few weeks ago he had found so utterly disagreeable he could hardly stomach them; the memories of Captain Krueger.

 

* * * * *

 

As in the previous probing, the spirit forced himself past Crane’s wall of self-defense; the place where the memory had been neatly stowed… always present, and yet tucked far away to shield him from the pain.  Crane’s breathing increased, as the dark-haired captain tossed his head, trying desperately to keep the intrusion from reaching deeper into his mind and soul.  As before, however, the spirit found its curiosity more pressing than its compassion and barreled on; breaking through Crane’s will as the sleeping man gasped, unable to wake himself and forced to endure the intrusion. 

 

The spirit was morbidly curious as to why Krueger had chosen a possession that had left Crane completely aware, since that type of possession required considerably more exertion to stay in control.  It seemed a waste of energy considering Crane’s memories could still be accessed without his awareness intact.  So, this time, the spirit searched for Krueger’s motivation found in Crane’s memories.  Crane had had full access to Krueger’s mind, and had desperately searched it looking for the means to end the possession. 

 

These memories were even more protected than Crane’s; the dark-haired captain had compartmentalized them, mentally separating them from his own as to not take ownership over the vile WWI submarine commander’s evil thoughts.  With a final push, the spirit gained access to the protected memories, probing deeply to find the answer to its query as Crane tossed his head uncomfortably.  With Crane unable to wake himself, the spirit continued to probe with full access to the previously protected memories.

 

The spirit shuddered at the poignant memories, having accessed Krueger’s thoughts through Crane’s awareness of his possessor.  There he found the details he was searching for. 

 

U-444 had been sunk by an enemy torpedo in the closing days of WWI, over 5,000 miles from where the Seaview had found the derelict submarine, and far from the German submarine patrols of WWI.  This fact alone would had caused Captain Crane to be suspicious of Krueger’s claim to be the captain of the S.S. Edelweiss, not to mention the fact that U-boat 444 sunk over 60 years ago.  What Crane couldn’t deny was the cold, hard, steel vessel that suddenly rose from its grave on the ocean floor to maneuver, despite the gaping hole in its side.  When the vessel disappeared, it left a ghostly impression on Seaview’s crew, only to be outdone by the eerie appearance of a lone survivor who was brought aboard, Captain Gerhardt Krueger.

 

This information the spirit had already obtained from the former probing of Crane’s mind, as well as the fact that Krueger had fallen in love with a Pacific island woman named Lani.  They had pledged their love to one another and Krueger had promised to return for her, but had died before they could be reunited.  Admiral Nelson had shared with Crane the entire story of Lani’s involvement in locating both him and the dancing girl.  Krueger intended Maria’s body for Lani, but she would have nothing of it. 

 

However, it was Crane’s accessed memories of his invader that gave him the greatest insight into the vile spirit.  Krueger had felt cheated out of the life he wanted and the love he felt he deserved; and at the time of his death he resisted the call to journey to the other side, while his Love remained among the living.  This decision would be his undoing, for he had sworn on the very soil where he had declared his love for the island girl that the two would never part again once he had returned.  It was that vow that tied him to the island, and ultimately sealing Lani’s fate as well.

 

The spirit was well versed in the details of Krueger’s possession, as well as the affect it had had on Crane.  The notion that Krueger had nearly been successful in stealing both Crane’s life and his body was undeniably deplorable.  Yet, another question now arose in addition to why Krueger had kept Crane conscious and aware; how did a U-boat captain manage to meet a Pacific island girl in the middle of WWI, particularly when the Germans had no Pacific campaign?  It was indeed a curious query; so, he probed deeper to find the answer to both questions.

 

The additional push inward elicited a groan from the sleeping man.  The memories were well protected and obviously the source of deep personal pain for Seaview’s captain.  He pushed ahead, somewhat dulled to Crane’s distress compared to his last probe, and found the answer to both of his queries. 

 

The question of how Krueger had met Lani was easily answered; Krueger’s boat had been utilized in a clandestine mission to explore the Pacific once it had become apparent that the United States would join the Allies; Britain, France and Russia in the war effort.  Germany had already lost its Pacific holdings to the Anglo/Japanese campaign in 1914, during the very early days of the war.  Krueger’s mission was to reevaluate its former Pacific colonies and determine which South Sea Islands might serve as bases; in the end Germany would deem this front unattainable during WWI and abandoned the idea.  Less than 25 years later, Germany would revisit the idea of a Pacific front, in the form of its new ally, Japan.** 

 

It was on Mulayu, one of these small islands that Krueger met Lani.  With his mission complete, he was pressed to return to the war effort in the Atlantic, but left vowing to return.  Lani for her part, vowed to wait for him, their vows sealed upon the sacred island of their love in a binding ancient ceremony.  In a cruel twist of fate, he was killed in the final days of the war, only hours before the Armistice was signed.  Thus, his regret and disdain for what he considered his worthless sacrifice compounded his discontent, and as such, had refused to pass to the other side.  Had he passed, his vow to the island would have been broken, but instead he went back to Mulayu in his ghostly submarine to be near his beloved.  Upon his arrival, he was aghast to find the island completely deserted.  He roamed the island looking for Lani, only to find his greatest heartbreak, a grave marking her passing.  He screamed in primal rage when the grave marking indicated that her passing coincided with only weeks after he had left the island.  In rage he searched the island for clues, finding such in a hut inhabited by a missionary doctor.  His writings indicating that the island had been evacuated after an epidemic had passed through the village, nearly decimating the native population of the small island.  The European “white-man’s” disease was a particularly violent case of influenza; one his own crew had dealt with on their return voyage to the Atlantic; but deadly to the natives on the island whose immune systems had little protection from.  Here his rage was inconsolable, for he realized that it was he and his crew who had brought the influenza to Mulayu in the first place. 

 

The island itself had been abandoned and deemed cursed by the surviving natives, who’d been forced to stay until the influenza ran its course and the incubation period had passed before leaving the island completely.  Now, all that remained were the graves of those who had died here.

 

* * *

 

The spirit shuddered, feeling a new sense of compassion for Captain Krueger, until the memories of what occurred next revealed the true content of Krueger’s heart.

 

* * *

 

The ghostly apparition returned to Lani’s grave, crying and lamenting bitterly, when all of the sudden he felt her presence.  Her transparent spirit rose from grave to stand before him, while his heart swelled, realizing that she had waited for him and had not yet passed to the other side.  She took a step forward, her body solidifying as soon as she stepped off the mound of her grave.

 

“My Love,” she called to him, appearing in spirit to meet him and grateful for his arrival that they might make the journey to the next realm together. 

 

She was just as he remembered.  Her raven hair was pulled into a delicate bun, exposing her perfectly sculptured neck, while her colorful native sarong hung gracefully on her feminine curves.  One shoulder was bare, and the short skirt delighted him, even in his spirit form.  A bright red hibiscus flower adorned one side of her head, tucked gently behind her ear, and adding a splash of color that brought out her red lips.

 

“My, Lani,” he responded, but as they embraced, he felt no warmth in her body; no true life in her form.  Feeling cheated he stepped back, shaking his fist in anger.  “This should not be!  We did not have the life we were meant… the life I promised you!” he lamented.

 

“I have no regrets, Gerhardt.  I count it mercy that I did not have to bear the news of your death.  Come, let us cross over together,” she urged extending her dainty hand toward her love, but Krueger stepped back just out of reach. 

 

“No, there is another way to have the life we talked about,” he said, aware of certain rules as soon as he had failed to cross over. 

 

“Our life here has ended, my Love, another awaits us on the other side,” she urged, her hand still extended.

 

Krueger considered her words; the call to the other side was indeed strong, but he resisted, shaking his head angrily.  “I am aware that life can be borrowed from another,” he explained. 

 

Lani shook her head slowly, her voice as sweet as an angel’s and yet hollow in her spirit form.  “I am aware as well, Gerhardt, but to take that path cheats another out of free will.”

 

Krueger pursed his lips, as his cheek twitched.  He was a sailor and a soldier, one who had tasted the glories of war; and as a captain, well used to having his wishes obeyed, but Lani was his weak spot.  He could not be displeased with her naivety or the strong morals she would never sway from, even when they were alive.  So, he resisted dealing heavy handedly with her, as he was in the habit of doing with his crew.  He gazed deeply into her dark brown eyes; truth and beauty were all that ever abided there, so he tried a different approach.

 

“Let us taste life again, and then we’ll pass,” he bargained, urging her to join him in possessing bodies long enough to consummate their love.  He held his hand out to her, and took a step forward, but this time, Lani stepped back.

 

“No Gerhardt, I cannot,” she said, the hollowness of her voice increasing as her foot almost touched the grave behind her.

 

“Don’t Lani,” he begged, understanding that she was content to accept her rest in the grave rather than to steal another person’s life, if only for a brief time, as he had promised; a promise he knew was hollow.

 

“Gerhardt, my Love,” she said, her hands now lying to her sides.  “I will always wait for you here,” she promised.

 

Krueger took another step toward her, nearly breaking his resolve, but stopped himself.  No, he argued silently, I am stronger than she.  She will join me when I have found a suitable pair.  “I will return for you,” he promised; his German accent heavy with the emotion of the strong vow.

 

“I shall wait for you, we shall cross to the other side then,” she agreed, not quite able to hide her sorrow that he had chosen to abide as a spirit rather than cross together.  Her resolve was unshakable, however, for she would have no part in possessing a living body for her means.  She took another step back, and as soon as her foot touched the grave, she returned to her translucent form. 

 

He watched as she sat and laid back into the grave, her body disappearing completely into the dark soiled hump that marked where her physical body lie, six feet below.

 

“Nooooo!” Captain Krueger yelled, his eyes misting in anger and disappointment for all that the cruel world had stolen from him.  “I will find two suitable vessels for us, and then Lani, I will return for you.  We shall have the life that I intended.  The life we deserve,” he vowed upon her grave, but she didn’t answer him.  A tear fell down his icy cold cheek as he realized that her presence was again shielded from him as she had chosen to resume her sleep. 

 

“It is because she has not tasted the warmth of life again,” Krueger reasoned, “my will is stronger, she will succumb to my demands and we shall live again,” he vowed. 

 

He had no reason to doubt either her love or her vow to wait for him, for she was acting within the same code of conduct that he had found so alluring before.  It was her way; her gentleness something that invoked new feelings and emotions in him.  He wasn’t accustomed to feeling such tenderness towards a woman; she had indeed opened his eyes to new things.  How a delicate flower such as she could love a fiery submarine captain with the depths of her entire heart and soul, was intriguing; and now that they had found this love, he was determined to experience it in the fullness of the human experience; not as a spirit in the next realm… this he promised himself.

 

* * *

 

The spirit experienced Krueger’s pain through Crane’s shared memories, a download of experiences that was neatly filed away deep within Seaview’s captain.  He could almost feel sorry for Captain Gerhardt Krueger as he witnessed the depth of his love for the island girl, but his compassion soon turned to disdain as he witnessed the stronger and more brutal side of the sub commander’s true nature; for he was only tender in one area of his life… Lani.  Nowhere else did he approach kindness, sympathy, or any other of the finer characteristics of a good man.  He was at his very existence, a selfish human being, driven by his need to succeed and win at any cost.  Never was Krueger’s vileness so apparent to the spirit, as when he realized that Crane had accessed these very private memories while imprisoned in his own wounded body.

 

Chapter Nine

 

Krueger had complete access to Lee’s vast experience as a submariner; he was, however, too arrogant to utilize those abilities and had ordered Chip to surface in order to travel faster above the water, a clear give away that something was wrong since nuclear submarines travel faster submerged.  Lee watched like a bystander from afar when Chip questioned the order and then suggested he return to sickbay.  He felt Krueger’s rage at his order being questioned, and was completely powerless to stop his own fist from decking his first officer. 

 

He’d already been relegated to the smallest of compartment of his own existence as Krueger pressed unmercifully upon him, and had been helpless to prevent Krueger from accessing his ability to pilot the flying sub.  The two individuals shared the same body, and through the physiological wonder of synapse their two spirits were bridged, including their minds and emotions.  He felt everything Krueger felt, noting the German captain’s satisfaction upon commanding the yellow vessel as he navigated his way toward the island nearest to Mulayu.  Krueger seemed to relish this new ability and relented from the stiffening pressure upon the stricken man’s imprisonment.  Lee realized that Krueger was occupied and decided to test just how much access he had to Krueger’s mind since they were currently sharing the same body.  He began to reach out mentally, as one might do to recall something important; but in this case, he bypassed his own mind and sought out his invader’s memories.  To his surprise, he hadn’t had to force his way in, which he counted fortunate since his strength was rapidly fading.  He simply had to observe; he concentrated and then reacted to the instant download of information.  He had accessed way more of Krueger than he would have liked, for in this unnatural state of body possession, they did indeed, have shared access of each other’s minds.  He shuddered, when he realized that he could not only feel all of Krueger’s emotions, but that he now knew everything about the vile man, including Lani and the plans he had to find a vessel for her to possess. 

 

Suddenly, a dark dread-filled fog draped over him as he felt Krueger’s awareness of his activity.  The cruel ghost had just realized that his mind had been accessed, and Lee was well-aware of his burning fury in a very physical way.

 

Krueger’s rage was swift and his recompense dangerously violent as he returned to Lee’s cell to press harshly upon him once again.  Lee felt he would suffocate in his own mind, as the space Krueger had left for his existence continued to shrink.

 

“You invaded my private thoughts!” Krueger accused, closing in on Lee once again and adding more pain to the agony he was already enduring, and conveniently discounting that he himself was the invader in Lee’s mortal vessel.

 

“And you stole my body!” Lee shot back, gasping with increased pain and fighting with what little strength he had left as his spirit alone bore the physical pain of the bullet still lodged in his side.

 

“You weak fool,” Krueger taunted.  “Soon you will die, and your body will be fully mine.”

 

“But that’s not all is it?” Lee continued.  He’d gotten Krueger’s attention and the only card he had left to play was in his next words.  “I know Lani,” he stated, feeling Krueger’s wrath rush throughout his borrowed body.  The U-boat captain’s fury ignited knowing that Lee had gained full access to his mind, and now knew first-hand the secret depths of his love for the island girl, the most private part of his being.  “She’ll have no part of what you’ve done to me… and she won’t take Maria’s body,” he warned fervently, laying out his knowledge of Krueger’s plan to steal the body of the native dance girl. 

 

He did indeed, know Lani as well as Krueger now that he had accessed his memories, and for the life still left in him, he couldn’t understand her blindness to the man Gerhardt Krueger was; but he had no doubt that she was sincere in her morals and character.  She was in fact, too good for Krueger, he fervently believed; a belief that wasn’t hidden from Krueger’s knowledge. 

 

Lee was well aware of not only Krueger’s plans, but could actually feel what the vile man felt while sharing his body.  It was deeply disturbing, and his only hope was to reach Krueger’s one weak spot, Lani.  Krueger, however, ignored Lee’s warning, completely enraged to know that he had no secrets from his captive and nearly snuffed out Lee’s life right then and there.  The result was like Lee being pressed into a mental fetal position, with barely enough space to survive. 

 

“You are dying,” Krueger taunted.  “I could have taken your body and left you unconscious, unaware of my actions; you are awake for one reason only,” his captor provoked cruelly, enunciating his last three words in deliberate staccato.

 

He didn’t have to explain further, immediately Lee understood the myriad of memories that had been downloaded.  Krueger had been roaming the seas for over sixty years searching for two suitable vessels for he and Lani to possess; the trick had been to find both bodies at the same time.  He had passed on the opportunity to possess a sailor or captain during the next world war; he had died once for his country and he had no intention of sacrificing his life a second time, even for the Fatherland.  And a body for Lani had been just as elusive.  Though the islands were filled with beautiful young maids, none compared to Lani, and he wanted her vessel to be as stunningly beautiful as she was.

 

He roamed the seas until he found his way back to the island chain of which Mulayu was part, and deemed it fate to find the dancing girl, Maria, in a shady lounge.  His heart had been filled with nothing less than lust, choosing her almost immediately for his Lani.  It was a perfect fit, with the native island beauty mysteriously resembling Lani so incredibly; a near doppelganger. 

 

Upon finding a body for Lani, he sought one out for himself.  It couldn’t be just any man, for Maria was young and beautiful, worldly, and full of unquenchable fire.  He needed a vessel that could entice the young dancer to follow him willingly to Mulayu.  Though she looked very much like Lani, she didn’t have the same gentle, unassuming spirit.  He had watched her over the course of many nights, noting the company she kept after her shows and left knowing exactly the sort of man she would fall for.  It had been a long, frantic search, for he feared that he might lose her if he couldn’t find the right man for her desires, not to mention the ambitions that he still wanted to fulfill.  He searched for nearly a year before finding Crane and knew instantly that he had found the perfect choice.  Draped in Crane’s body he could seduce her, and once Lani had taken her form, they would live the life that fate had cruelly stolen from them.  He would be the captain of the Seaview, and she would be his wife.  Thus, he committed whole-heartedly to his plan to steal two lives for his own happiness.  It was a plan he had never wavered from, even though he knew that Lani would not approve. 

 

So, now he had Crane’s body, and he had succeeded in extorting Nelson to do his bidding; not by sheer will itself, for Nelson had been a formidable foe, but by condemning all the men aboard the submarine should the admiral deny him his prize.  Crane’s body was his, and he was closer to his goal than ever before; and yet, a strong and powerful jealously filled him.  Crane had lived the life he craved, filled with many accomplishments and achievements.  He should have been satisfied to step into a life lined with so much success, but he narcissistically felt overshadowed by the younger sub commander.   Crane had outdone Krueger in life, having received his command at a much earlier age, and was far more decorated than he.  If that weren’t salt enough on his wounded pride, it was Crane who had outwitted him in the fog, and destroyed his own submarine, the Edelweiss.  So, it was with intended malice that he took possession of Lee’s body with his consciousness fully engaged.  He hated Lee Crane for the life he had lived; his successes; and the fact that the body that he would possess had actually bested him on the battlefield. 

 

And so, this was the purgatory that he demanded for Lee Crane; to be conscious of every act that his body committed, without the power to stop those actions; including snuffing out the life of Maria in order to make way for Lani.

 

This realization hit Lee hard; he cringed in pure agony knowing that he was powerless to stop his possessor.

 

* * *

 

Krueger laughed hauntingly at his victory; the satisfaction of Lee’s pain fueling a devilish smile on the body he now possessed.  He relished Crane’s anguish, while looking ahead to his destination now visible on the horizon.  He was very close to fulfilling the next step in his plans to garner a body for his Lani.  He took a moment to breathe deeply, fully taking in the feeling of warm blood pumping through his veins and smiled.  After so long in his spirit form, he was looking forward to the pursuit of the dancing beauty and purposed to allow himself the full pleasure of the hunt.

 

* * *

 

The spirit shuddered again, sending ice cold tendrils in all directions as he hovered over Crane.  The distress on the captain’s face signaled it was time to release him from his misery.  He had sought and found the answers to his questions.  Captain Gerhardt Krueger was a twisted, evil, and malicious man who had nearly been successful in stealing Lee Crane’s life, while cruelly forcing him to participate through his mind’s eye; helpless to stop his own actions and conscious of every act Krueger selfishly committed while draped in his body.

 

The thought chilled the room as Lee’s head tossed once more; his lips parted and an airy moan passed, muttering something barely understandable, “Ad-mir-al…”

 

His curiosity was not completely abated, as another question arose.  Namely, how had Crane reconciled the fact that Nelson had shot him, effectively leaving him to Krueger’s mercy.  The spirit knew he was delving into questions that had little to do with his own mission, but he’d found these intrusions to be very satisfying… entertaining even.  It was a terrible thing to admit, but after distancing himself from the human experience for so long, he had missed the interactions among the living world. 

 

His question would have to wait till later this evening, however, for it was nearing morning and he didn’t want to bring attention to his voyeurism into Crane’s mind by having the Captain oversleep. 

 

Besides, he needed to prepare for his immediate concern.  Today, he would need Morton’s services to make sure that Admiral Nelson took the right path to the hidden installation.  To that end, he withdrew his probing intrusion from Crane’s mind, invoking an airy breath of relief from the sleeping man.  The cold tendrils of the hazy mist retreated to the vent system, purposing to return and continue his probe the next evening.  There, he settled in waiting for the right time to ensure the success of his plans.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee sat on the edge of his bunk rubbing his eyes.  He’d woken sluggishly to the loud ring of his alarm clock; something that didn’t happen often.  His internal body clock was well-acclimated to his routine, and was accustomed to bypassing the loud ring by waking a few minutes earlier.

 

Today, however, he’d woken very weary; as if he’d pulled an all-nighter working through the Dog-Watch, or standing on his feet through several shifts during some emergency situation.  There’d been, however, no such reason to account for his present weariness.  So, he pushed himself into gear, figuring a few healthy shots of Cookie’s high-octane coffee would do the trick.  He took tired steps toward the head, and was disappointed to see that he looked as tired as he felt.  He indulged in an extra five minutes under the hot shower to wake completely, and exited feeling better.  He finished shaving and dressing then headed for the door, checking his watch approvingly.  He had managed to make up for moving slowly this morning, and headed for the Control Room to start his day with his first intended stop, the coffee pot in the Nose.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee was leaning over the Chart Table when he heard Harry’s soft-soled oxfords descending the spiral staircase.  He continued charting the check points as the Admiral stepped up beside him.

 

“Good morning, Lee.”

 

“Good morning, Admiral,” he replied amicably.

 

“I’ve been studying the data from the disturbances of the last few days, and I’m inclined to make a course change.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee said, leaning over to view the new coordinates that Harry was referring to on the chart with the sharp end of his pencil.

 

“This entire region seems to be active,” Harry noted, drawing a circle around the region.

 

“Hmm, about 100 miles to investigate,” Lee calculated in his head.

 

“Yes.  Now our original plan was to head here,” he said, pointing to another set of coordinates on the outer edge of the triangle they had originally identified as their area of interest.  “But after analyzing the data from last night; I’d say this is the hot spot.”

 

Lee shook his head and smiled tentatively.  “Still feel like were following a well-placed breadcrumb trail?”

 

Harry grinned knowingly.  “Now, more than ever,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that he was concerned, despite their humorous use of the Hansel and Gretel analogy.

 

Lee expelled an obvious breath while examining the new targeted area.  “I was afraid of that.  Is our detection equipment that good that none of the other agencies investigating the pings were able to hone the search down this quickly?” he asked rhetorically, tapping the eraser end of his pencil in thought.

 

“Well, we haven’t found anything yet, and we may find we’re back to square one once we get there,” Harry pointed out logically.

 

“You’re right, of course, but it won’t take much for me to issue General Quarters,” he informed, rubbing the back of his neck wearily in an unconscious move, which the admiral noticed, but ignored.

 

Harry nodded, and then glanced about the Control Room.  “Where’s Chip?”

 

“Overseeing deployment of the detection equipment,” he answered, using his straight edge to line up to the circle Harry had drawn and the specific coordinates he had already pointed out.

 

Harry chuckled apologetically.  “I guess I should have gotten down here sooner,” he said, noting that Lee had to recalculate all the check points.

 

“Not a problem, Sir,” Lee answered with a grin, extending the line against the straight-edge directly to the coordinates.  “We’re stationed here for the day; I’ve got plenty of time before we move on tonight.”

 

“Fine,” Harry said with a good-natured tap of his hand to the Chart Table.  “Well, I’d better get back to the lab before the data starts rolling in,” he said, in an obvious good mood.

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee replied with a barely hidden smile; he always enjoyed seeing the Admiral’s excitement when he was in hot pursuit of a scientific find.

 

“Morton to Captain Crane.”

 

Lee reached for the mic and clicked.  “Crane here.”

 

“The equipment is deployed, Sir.  The Admiral should be receiving data shortly.”

 

“Very well, he’s on his way to the lab now.”

 

“Aye, Sir.  Morton out.”

 

Lee shipped the mic, holding back a tired sigh as a rush of cold air filled the room again.  He stopped and looked up at the ventilation grate and pursed his lips at the intermittent problem that Maintenance still hadn’t diagnosed yet.  Then he scanned the situation lights in the Control Room, satisfying himself with Seaview’s current operations, before lowering his head to continue charting the new check points and running times.

 

“Coffee, Sir?” the steward asked a few minutes later.

 

“Thanks, Ray,” he replied gratefully, taking a mug from the tray and breathing in the rich aroma.  He took a sip of the steaming hot coffee and figured that with this latest cup of joe, he’d be good to go until lunch.

 

* * * * *

 

“Aye, Sir.  Morton out.”  Chip shipped the mic and took one last look over the Missile Room deck.  Pat was operating the detection equipment and Ski was handling the winch; the watch was in good hands; so, he headed for the hatch.

 

He made his way forward until he reached the stairway ladder to the next deck, holding the rail and taking one step up before suddenly feeling a rush of chilled air, immediately followed by a push that knocked him sideways against the stairway wall.  The piercing chill of the spirit’s presence came next as Chip lost consciousness.  He sat, leaning against the wall for only a slight moment, then opened his vibrant blue eyes.  A strange smile spread across his face as the spirit inhabited Chip Morton in a full possession of his body.  The real Chip Morton’s consciousness lay completely dormant, as the spirit took to heart the lesson he had learned from Crane’s probing, not attempting the more difficult awake-possession.  Besides, it wouldn’t do his plan any good for Morton to realize that a ghost had inhabited his body.

 

The spirit stood, and took a moment to relish in the feel of the blood pumping through the shared body.  It was different than the previous times he had momentarily possessed a crewman’s body.  Those times had been minor possessions, merely to feel the life-force of a being human once again; this time, however, he exercised his possession to the fullest by controlling the body as if it were his own.   In a sense, it was his own, he corrected himself.  For when a spirit is draped in a body, it becomes human once again until the departure.  The euphoria he experienced was nearly overwhelming, until he remembered his plan. 

 

He straightened and took the steps upward, taking on the mannerisms and voice of his human host with all the ease of a spirit that had full access to his mind and memories.  Now, it was time to ensure that no more time was wasted.  Nelson had indeed chosen the correct area, but there was still a lot of ocean to cover and he had no more patience for the data collection process; his next steps would take Seaview directly to the installation.

 

He walked with purpose, knowing exactly where he was heading thanks to the accessed memories of Chip Morton, and entered the Circuitry Room.  As expected, the room was empty with no maintenance details working at present.  The tall blond moved directly to an access panel marked N6A and opened it.  He studied the complicated circuitry unit and then reached for the maintenance tools stored nearby.  Carefully and skillfully, he made an adjustment to the highly sensitive electronics then checked over his work. A thin smile formed, knowing that the adjustment would take the Seaview exactly where he wanted it to go.  Barring any underwater topography that might give their true position away, the boat would travel along without anyone’s knowledge that the Inertial Navigator had been tampered with or that their true course would be two degrees off their intended heading.  This knowledge borrowed from Chip Morton’s memory of another voyage, where a disgraced scientist, Jason Kemp, had sabotaged the Inertial Navigator in an attempt to keep Seaview from reaching the dinosaur-filled island before Dr. Denning had been killed by primitive natives of the island; all to hide his guilt of selfishly sacrificing two other team members in order to ensure his own escape.***  His interference had only delayed the Seaview a short time, since Admiral Nelson was able to repair the unit.  This time however, thanks to the spirit’s own scientific know-how and coupled with the technical capabilities of Morton, he had not damaged the unit at all, but rather, had simply made adjustments that would produce a flawed course. 

 

His smile widened as he closed the panel and secured the maintenance tools; he was sure that the installation would be found before Crane or Nelson discovered the error.  He turned to leave, opening the door carefully to make sure the corridor was empty, and then slipped out of the Circuitry Room.  He retraced his steps back to the ladder where he had taken control over Morton’s body and glanced about, making sure he was alone.  It was time vacate Morton’s body.  The thought brought an immediate scowl to Morton’s hijacked face as the spirit considered having to return to his misty form after experiencing the thrill of living again.  He hadn’t expected to feel this way, but he suddenly felt envy for the life Morton would return to, while he reverted back to the icy cold tendrils of his spirit form.  He took the time to breathe in deeply and marveled at the feel of oxygen in his lungs, and warm blood flowing in his veins again.  The thought grieved him, for he was reminded instantly, that this wasn’t his body. 

 

Regretfully, he disengaged from Morton’s mind and slid out of his body, as Chip crumbled to the deck.  The spirit hovered over him for a moment more, almost unsure if he could actually let go of life that easily, Morton’s airy moan reminded him that he was waking, and hastily disappeared leaving only an eerily chilled corridor as Seaview’s XO staggered to his feet.

 

* * * * *

 

Chip shivered as he regained consciousness and found himself on the deck.  He opened his eyes and blinked, his strength returning quickly as he made his way to his feet, using the wall to guide himself up.  He placed a tentative hand to his head and held it there until the fuzziness faded and took account of his physical status.  A quick assessment of his surroundings indicated no emergency lights, and no GQ klaxons announcing an emergency.  He was at the bottom of the stairs, just where he was before he passed out… I must have fallen, he reasoned, it made as much sense as anything, though he couldn’t fathom falling for no reason.  He thought the best thing to do was to make his way to the Control Room and make sure the boat hadn’t engaged in any rock and rolls that might explain his situation.  He headed up the ladder with quick steps and moved forward, passing crewmembers talking casually, with no hint of concern.  He stepped over the aft hatch and stood a moment, taking in the situation lights and activity in the Control Room.  Nothing was out of order.  Taking a deep breath, he moved forward, passing the periscope island and heading for the Chart Table.

 

“Lee,” he greeted tentatively.

 

“Everything all right down there?” Lee asked, barely lifting his head as he finished his calculations.

 

“Everything’s ship-shape.”

 

“Good, the Admiral is really looking forward to dissecting the data,” Lee said casually with a light chuckle.

 

Chip nodded distractedly.  “Uh… Lee,” he said stepping in closer.  “Did we have any turbulence just now, anything that would give us a rough ride?”

 

Lee looked up, taking in Chip’s countenance and question at the same time.

 

“We’re stationary, Chip, and in perfect buoyancy,” he answered a bit concerned.  “Why do you ask?”

 

“Uh… nothing,” the blond answered, trying to gloss over his question and move on.  He turned to head to the Auto-Nav, but was stopped by Lee’s subtle, but firm hand on his arm.

 

“Wait a minute, Chip,” he said quietly, “when my first officer asks me a question like that, I expect it’s for a reason.”

 

Chip lowered his eyes and nodded, ready to fess up to his commanding officer.  “I woke up at the bottom of the ladder.  I guess I took a tumble.”

 

“Are you, all right?” he asked, his forehead tightening in concern.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I don’t even have a bump on my head,” he assured his captain.

 

“You sure you don’t want to see the Doc?” Lee asked, leaving it up to Chip and having already determined that his pupils were even and responsive.

 

“I’m really fine, Lee.  I promise, if I have any headaches or blurry vision…”

 

“You’ll go see Jamie right away,” Lee finished in what amounted to an order.

 

“Aye, Sir.”

 

Lee nodded approvingly.  “Okay Chip.  I just finished the check points and the running times for our new heading tonight.  Why don’t you enter them for me in the log book,” he said, with a nod to the conference table where he clearly wanted Chip to work.

 

Chip chuckled under his breath, recognizing Lee’s not-so-subtle attempt to get his friend off his feet for a while.  “Aye, aye, Skipper.” 

 

“You have the Con, Chip, I’ve got some reports to catch up on before lunch.” 

 

“Aye, Sir,” Chip replied, grateful that Lee was well aware that no one was immune from the occasional misstep aboard a submarine.  He gathered up the log book and calculations and headed for the table, suddenly very aware of how tired he was.  He stopped and poured himself a cup of coffee, and then settled in to log the entries that would be signed off at each check point when they got underway this evening.

 

* * * * *

 

The spirit watched Morton from the corner of the Nose, though his hazy mist was shielded from the crew, his icy presence couldn’t be avoided.  He had no body to warm his spirit; no vessel for blood to flow the warm river of life.  He had emotions, dreams, and desires; but no means for which to live or pursue those very basic elements of a real life.  He existed… and that was all. 

 

He noticed Morton shiver and then look up disgustedly at the air revitalizing vent, shaking his head at the on-going problem before returning to his work.  The spirit’s envy swelled in that moment.

 

The chill in the room increased as the spirit considered his dilemma.  Here sat in front of him the answer to his newly discovered desire for life.  Morton was young and strong, as he had once been.  He was capable and bright; his technological know-how a nice fit for the spirit’s scientific mind.  He was fit and vigorous; full of life, and it was that life that he so craved.

 

The Call from the other side was still as strong as before, but the opportunity to live again, as he had done earlier during Morton’s full possession, had become just as strong.  For the first time, he was faced with the realization that he had more than one choice before him; to answer the Call to the other side… or to stay and live out a new life in a borrowed form.  He suddenly realized that Morton’s life could become his, and withdrew to consider his options.

 

Chapter Ten

 

“Missile Room, this is the Exec.”

 

“Missile Room, Aye; Sharkey here.”

 

“What’s our status there, Chief?”

 

“The Detection Equipment has been retrieved and stowed, Sir.  We’re ready to deploy the Net when you’re ready, Sir.”

 

“Very well, standby.”

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

Chip shipped the mic and looked across the Chart Table to Lee who was going over the new course and check points with Lt. O’Brien. 

 

“The Net is ready to deploy, Sir,” Chip reported.

 

“Very well, Mr. Morton.  Any time you’re ready Mr. O’Brien,” Lee said with a confident nod to the junior officer who was taking the Con to deploy the Net, a maneuver which required a skilled touch until the Net picked up the resistance of the water in order to keep from tangling on itself, or worse; sucked into the intake valves.

 

“Aye, Sir,” he replied, reaching for the mic.

 

“Missile Room; this is the Officer of the Deck, standby to deploy.”

 

“Missile Room, aye,” Sharkey replied.

 

He double clicked and continued.  “Engine room; all ahead, dead slow.”

 

“Aye Sir; dead slow.”

 

O’Brien held the mic ready as Chip called out the boat condition.

 

“200 feet keel to bottom; trim satisfactory.”

 

Bobby nodded, concentrating until he felt a very small and barely indiscernible shudder as the drag of the submarine against the water was neutralized by Seaview’s forward movement, then clicked the mic.  “Missile Room, deploy the Net.”

 

“Missile Room, aye.  The Net is away.”

 

“Very well, Chief, secure the detail,” the young officer ordered and then double clicked.  “Engine room, all ahead one-third,” he said shipping the mic and scanning the situation lights.  “Steady as she goes Helm,” he ordered, blowing out a small breath of relief.

 

“Nice job, Bobby,” Lee complimented with an encouraging hand to the shoulder.  “Let’s go see what it looks like.”

 

O’Brien followed him to the monitor near Sonar.

 

“Aft camera,” he ordered as the Sonar operator turned on the monitor and activated the camera.

 

Bobby held his breath until the monitor tuned in, and was finally able to breathe normally again when the camera revealed a perfectly deployed Electronics Net that would gather data as they made their way to their next coordinates.

 

“Excellent work, Mr. O’Brien,” Lee complimented and then checked his watch.  “I’m going to take a walk and then head to my cabin.”

 

“Aye, Sir.  Have a good night, Sir,” Bobby replied.

 

O’Brien already had the Con so Lee headed out the aft hatch for his nightly walk about the boat.

 

“Good job, Bobby,” Chip offered the younger officer when O’Brien returned to the Chart Table.

 

“Thanks, Chip,” he answered, glad to have the maneuver behind him, but feeling pretty good inside that he had aced it.

 

“Well, I’m going to turn in,” Chip announced, pushing off the Chart Table.

 

“Aye, Sir, have a good night, Mr. Morton,” he offered, before opening the log book and taking note of his first check point and settling into the routine of the Watch.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee knocked on the Lab door and then opened it tentatively as he waited for a response from the Admiral.

 

“Come in, Lee,” Harry greeted, stretching as he addressed Seaview’s Captain, who was standing just inside the open door.  “I felt us get underway,” he mentioned casually.

 

“Aye, Sir,” Lee said, sitting on the edge of the table and looking over the charts laid out before Harry. “How’s it looking?”

 

“We’re definitely on the right track,” Harry said, tapping the circle marking the search area they were currently heading for.

 

“Good.  O’Brien has the Watch,” he informed the Admiral, before smiling.  “He just deployed his first Net.”

 

“Good.  I barely felt it,” the Admiral replied, noting Lee’s satisfaction at the junior officer’s success.

 

“Well, I’m bushed tonight.  I’m going to hit the sack early,” Lee announced to Harry’s noncommittal nod. 

 

“That’s a good idea, I’m almost through here.”

 

“Do you want me to help you stow this?” Lee asked sincerely.

 

“No, no,” Harry said with a raised hand.  “I have a few more things to check before I turn in.”

 

“All right,” Lee replied, their conversation relaxed.  “Good night, Sir.”

 

“Good night, Lee.”

 

Harry bent back over his work as Lee left and pulled the door behind him.  He was glad that Lee was settling in for the night, he hadn’t wanted to hover, but he’d noticed that Lee was looking a little run-down today.  A good night sleep is just what he needs, he thought distractedly, and then finished his thoughts on the last salinity readings.

 

* * * * *

 

Night time had fallen on the submarine; well, a simulated night anyway, the spirit amended as he made his way to Morton’s cabin.  The hazy mist entered through the vent grate and hovered over his chosen vessel.  He knew that by morning they would be near enough the island that Nelson would surely investigate; his plan was well on its way to completion.  By mid-morning, or perhaps lunch at the latest, Captain Crane would investigate and find the installation.  His elaborate scheme was working perfectly; all his planning, all the disturbances, everything he had set in place to confound everyone else investigating the pings and yet, to lure Seaview to this place was complete.  He really had no more need to use Morton’s body; as long as Seaview proceeded through the night to the coordinates that he had arranged for, that is.

 

The spirit brooded a moment, realizing that a moment of truth was upon him.  If he so chose, he could stop this plan by possessing Morton once again, and readjusting the Inertial Navigator.  Seaview would arrive at her originally intended coordinates and he would possess Morton’s body.  The unexplained pings and disturbances would disappear as mysteriously as they had begun a year ago, and no one would know that he now commanded Morton’s body to live out his stolen life.

 

The thought both disturbed and intrigued him at the same time.  Everything that was once Hulbert Krause warred against the temptation; enough so, that he withdrew from the cabin.  But the war deep within him was far from over.  He had two choices.  On the one hand; stay to the original course he had laid out in his well-thought out plan to bring the Seaview here.  On the other hand; the opportunity to live the life he had been cheated out of through Morton’s body. 

 

It should have never been an issue for him, but he found himself greatly distressed at the choice he now faced. 

 

He exited Morton’s cabin under the door and found himself drawn like an insect to light to a nearby cabin.  He had unfinished business he wanted to explore and perhaps, he’d find the answer to his dilemma through the accessed memories of Crane’s experience with Krueger.

 

* * * * *

 

The cabin was dark as the neon green mist swept across the deck toward the sleeping man.  When he reached the edge of the bunk, the mist rose up to hover over Crane.  Last night’s probe had left him noticeably weary and tired, and he was currently in a deep sleep.  He reached a tentacle of mist toward Crane’s head to probe, but withdrew in a sudden self-check.  He was well aware that these memories were painful for the sleeping man who was forced to relive them in his dreams.  They had been neatly tucked away, and he realized, quite private.  Yet, there was something in Krueger’s story remotely familiar to his own situation, and so he pushed on.

 

His probing produced a scowl on the sleeping captain’s face, but as before, the spirit was now in control and Crane was not allowed to wake, even as he tossed his head uncomfortably.  The spirit eased off the probe for a moment, sensing Crane’s greatest regrets lay in these next memories.  He questioned his right to proceed, and whether he had a right to delve deeper.  The man that Hulbert Krause used to be would certainly not approve, but he knew that somehow, the answer to his dilemma could lie in the very detailed account of Krueger’s possession of Crane.  He was also well-aware that there was a second, and most certainly, less honorable reason for proceeding.  The vast array of emotions he was able to experience through this probe was like an elixir to the cold soul stuck between two worlds. 

 

Like a cheap B-movie weekly serial, he reminded himself of where he had left off with Crane’s probe last evening.  His essence swelled in a cold chill recalling Krueger’s complete dominance and control over Crane’s body.  The U-boat’s commander had flown the flying sub, utilizing Crane’s knowledge and skill with perfect ease.  He approached the island, ready to lure the beautiful Maria to Lani’s resting place.

 

It was more than curiosity that was peaked in Hulbert’s spirit form, for these memories were alive with passion and pain, as well as deep determination as Krueger pushed forth with his plans, while Crane fought back with everything he had inside even though he was helpless to stop the intruder’s will.  It was the passion of the human experience that he couldn’t ignore, he’d been away too long and his very existence craved it. 

 

Curious, he abandoned his better judgement and probed deeper, even basking in the uncomfortable scene as Krueger watched Maria dance, then seduced the willing young lady to join him for a boat ride to Mulayu.

 

His essence swelled once again, as he picked up the Krueger’s memories where he had been forced to leave off the night before.

 

* * *

 

The island had been deserted for over sixty years, and Maria was well-aware of the stories of the “cursed” island.  Still, she was a modern young woman and had long-since abandoned many of the taboos of her native people.  It hadn’t taken much for her to gaze into the hazel green eyes of her “captain” as he promised to take her to the nearby island to see sights she’d never seen before.  He was tall, and his leather jacket with its gold braided shoulder pads hung tantalizingly across his shoulders.  The lines of his face were classically handsome, and when he smiled she was smitten with desire.  He’d been dashing, and debonair, treating her like a lady; something the regular patrons of the island bar often failed to do when trying to obtain her interest.

 

“It is beautiful, just as you said,” she noted, reaching for his extended hand to steady her as she stepped out of the rubber raft.

 

“Come vith me,” he enticed with a German accent, holding her hand and leading her through the jungle...

 

* * *

 

Lee shuddered in anguish, helplessly watching the events unfold, his body participating and yet powerless to stop Krueger.  He was well-aware of Krueger’s intent to strangle Maria, so as to not damage her body for Lani’s sake.  He begged, pleaded, and even invoked Lani’s morals and nature; but Krueger only laughed inwardly and continued to lead the girl down the path that led to the burial grounds where his Lani now rested. 

 

All the while, Lee’s life was slipping away.  Though the physical blood loss had been temporarily abated by Krueger’s ghostly presence, it was Lee that bore the burden of the consequential pain.   In addition, he was now using what strength he had left to find a way to stop Krueger from completing his plans against Maria.  He had no weapon to use against Krueger; the ghost’s use of the supernatural wasn’t something he could fight.  The only strategy he could employ was to continue to call upon Lani’s morals as a deterrent to Krueger’s planned actions.  This, however, was becoming increasingly more dangerous, as the U-boat commander took his rage out on Lee’s stricken consciousness.  By the time Krueger and Maria reached the burial grounds, Lee was little more than a bystander, his voice silenced by the crushing will of Krueger’s cruel affliction.  Helplessly, he watched as the frightened girl tried to leave, only to be attacked by the man she thought to be the handsome, and attentive Lee Crane.  His spirit wept bitterly when he actually felt his own hands wrap around her neck and squeeze.

 

“No, Krueger, don’t do this!” he begged.

 

Krueger ignored his pleas and continued to squeeze until she fell unconscious, her body limp in his strong hands.  She needed only cling to life for a moment before Lani inhabited her body, Krueger had reasoned, and thus the evil ghost relented before killing her completely.  Then he stepped back and invoked Lani from her rest, presenting the dancing girl’s body as the means to experience the love he desired in this life.

 

Lee was nearly unconscious, his own life fading quickly while watching the scene unfold, as Lani acted just as he believed she would; resisting Krueger’s evil plan and vowing to stop him.  He knew Lani as well as Krueger at this point, and he realized that Krueger had completely misread her character.  Where he was drawn to her innocence, and where her sweet morals intrigued the old sea salt, he had wrongly interpreted those characteristics as naïve and weak, one that could be dominated by his strength.  But, it was no surprise to Lee to witness her inner strength as she dismissed Krueger’s lame excuses for his incomprehensible actions.  Lee felt Krueger’s surprise and shock as she left his presence; he was flabbergasted to realize that she was not under his control at all, and vacated Lee’s body to pursue Lani in his spirit form.  In that instant, Lee’s spirit was restored with full control of his physical being, but the joy and relief at owning his own body again was short-lived as the shock and pain of the bullet wound overtook him, rendering him unconscious as he crumbled to the ground in a heap.

 

He had no idea how much time had passed, but when his awareness returned, he realized that he wasn’t stuffed back into that suffocating closet in his mind, as he was before.  He was indeed gloriously alone in his own body, but that realization was accompanied with the pain of his life-threatening wound, which had begun bleeding once again.

 

He heard a stirring and raised his head wearily to the now recovering island girl, Maria.  The pain of what his hands had inflicted upon the frightened young woman overtook even the agony of the untreated bullet wound as Lee addressed her.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it,” he offered, his voice cracking and weak, while he held his side in a vain effort to keep his life’s-blood from draining away.  “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he declared before the totality of both his wound and the harrowing experience took him to unconsciousness once more.

 

His awareness was shocked awake, however, when he felt the now well-recognizable presence of Krueger returning.  His dread of the ghost return was superseded by the sound of Maria’s voice, full of palpable fear.  He was unable to rouse his body to full wakefulness and could only hear her distantly, but he was completely aware of two things: her fear, and Krueger’s presence approaching.

 

“Who are you?” she asked, and when there was no answer, she asked again, then the air was filled with her terror-filled scream as Krueger entered Lee’s body.  He fought desperately to keep Krueger from invading his body once again, but found himself easily pressed back inside the closet.  It was even more stifling than before, as Krueger was determined to take her life, knowing the act would bring Lani back from wherever she had gone, if nothing else she would return to protect the girl.  Lee found himself curled back into a mental fetal position, not out of his own fear, but because the space Krueger had relegated him to had been shrunken to near non-existence.  Even his voice to fight had been silenced, a sign that his life was dangerously close to ending.  Yet, his greatest pain wasn’t induced by the Admiral’s bullet; his greatest pain was in feeling his hands close on Maria’s neck once again. 

 

* * *

 

A man isn’t supposed to cry… he’d always heard that, but when he felt the vileness of Krueger’s emotions surging through his body as he lay over Maria squeezing the life away, he wept bitterly.  There was no hope left, Maria was going to die at his hands… and he was powerless to stop it.  He looked away, but he could still see the murderous act through Krueger’s eyes.  He felt everything Krueger felt… he knew everything Krueger knew… and he couldn’t even escape watching Maria’s assault. 

 

All was lost… until, he heard Harry’s voice.

 

“Krueger!  Get up!”

 

Was he dreaming? he asked frantically.  Krueger turned to face the Admiral, and a small measure of hope returned.   “Harry,” he called, but no one heard him, even Krueger ignored him as if his voice was too inconsequential to be heard now.

 

“Get up,” Harry demanded again, his gun pointing squarely at Crane/Krueger’s gut.

 

“Put away the gun.  It is useless against me,” Krueger demanded in utter disgust that his plans had been delayed. 

 

Lee knew he was bluffing, all of the sudden the answer was crystal clear.  “Shoot me, Admiral!” he screamed from inside his prison, but Harry couldn’t hear him.  He knew as well as Krueger, that while the ghost inhabited his body, he was completely vulnerable to a new wound.  It would be Krueger’s spirit that bore the consequence of the bullet as he was the one in control.  He knew it was the only way to keep Krueger from killing Maria.  “Shoot me!” he begged again, in a complete reversal of the events in the Control Room.  He remembered vividly the feelings of utter betrayal to first feel the searing hot pain of the bullet in his side, and then to look up and see the smoking gun in Harriman Nelson’s hand.  But now, that smoking gun was the answer to save Maria and to set him free to die, with the knowledge that his body could no longer be hijacked into doing evil.

 

“Is it?” Harry countered knowingly.  “You're real now, a physical body.”

 

“You’ve have talked with Lani,” Krueger spat out accusingly, as Lee began to understand. 

 

Of course! Lani guided Harry here! Lee thought in sudden recognition, before using the last of his strength to yell at Krueger.  “Lani is stronger than you think, Krueger!” he taunted.  “She will never be part of this evil!”  He was satisfied to feel Krueger tense sharply at his words; the ghost may have been ignoring him, but he was most certainly being heard.

 

“That's right, and she wants nothing to do with this.  You're going to stop a bullet now, Krueger,” Harry returned, unaware that he was participating in a two-front assault in conjunction with Lee.

 

“I will be back!  Then none of you will leave this island alive,” Krueger vented heatedly, suddenly releasing his captive.  “I am stronger than she!” he declared, unable to accept that his will could possibly be resisted, suddenly abandoning Lee’s body in his spirit form to not only find Lani, but to escape Nelson’s bullet.  For he indeed knew, that if Harriman Nelson was strong enough to pull the trigger to save 124 men aboard Seaview, then he’d be strong enough to kill his best friend in order to save Maria, and set Crane’s spirit free in death. 

 

That was the last of Krueger’s thoughts to invade Lee Crane’s mind, for as soon as Krueger departed, he crumbled in agony once again; this time too close to death to be aware of anything else around him.

 

The temperature in the cabin had dropped again as the spirit soaked in the drama, he was completely drawn in, experiencing the explosive emotions and passion vicariously, when all of the sudden the silence in the cabin was invaded by a rumble followed by a subsequent jolt. 

 

The spirit disconnected hastily when he realized that Crane had registered the submarine’s predicament, and by sheer will power was barreling past the spirit to force his own wakefulness.  The spirit withdrew its misty tentacles, retreating in a frantic swirling motion that dissipated into midair only a split second before Crane’s eyes fluttered open. 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Lee cleared his throat and sluggishly reached for the mic beside his bed just as a call came over the com system.

 

“Control Room to Captain Crane.”

 

“This is Crane.  What’s going on down there?”

 

“This is O’Brien, Sir.  We scraped the bow port side; DC reports we’re tight and dry.  Sir, we’re not supposed to be anywhere near any rock formations,” he added nearly exasperated.

 

“All stop,” Lee ordered.  “Hold our position, I’ll be right there.”

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

Lee blew a tired breath out then moved quickly to change.  He had no time to coddle the fact that he had awakened as tired as he had been when he’d gone to sleep; and he certainly didn’t have time to lament the fact that he woke remembering his dreams about Krueger with perfect clarity.  Right now, the only thing that mattered was Seaview.

 

It took less than three minutes to change and run a brush through his hair, and he was out the door on the way to the Control Room.

 

* * * * *

 

“Status, Mr. O’Brien,” he said, while still stepping down the spiral staircase. 

 

“All stop as ordered, Sir.  Damage Control says I owe you a paint job, but otherwise she’s sound,” the contrite officer replied.

 

“Depth keel to bottom,” Lee inquired approaching the Chart Table.

 

“150 feet, but Sir, we’re supposed to have 600 feet underneath us right now,” he said pointing to what was supposed to be Seaview’s present position.

 

Lee leaned over reaching for the straight edge, as the clicks of two pairs of shoes were heard descending down the spiral staircase behind him.

 

“What’s going on, Lee?” Harry asked moving beside him with Chip by his side.

 

“Navigation error, we’re not where we’re supposed to be, Admiral,” he answered then turned directly to his first officer.  “Chip, verify our present position on the Nav Computer.”

 

O’Brien stood nearby ready to answer for the emergency at hand; as the Officer of the Watch, the duties of navigation and smooth sailing fell squarely his shoulders. 

 

Lee studied the topography of their current position then used his straight edge to draw a line from their starting point to their present position.  The second line produced an acute angle, and widened the further Seaview traveled through the night.

 

Chip returned with the readout, handing it his commanding officer.  “This can’t be right, Lee,” he said, handing the readout over as Lee read it and pursed his lips, then turned their attention to the chart in front of them.

 

“Gentlemen, this is where we are,” he said pointing to the second line he had just drawn, this is where we should be,” he continued, pointing to the original course he had charted out, “and this is where the Nav computer says we are,” he said, keeping his finger in place at the original course and tapping insistently.  “It says we’re exactly where we should be.”

 

Bobby barely held in his breath of relief at the realization that he hadn’t blown his duties at the Con, as Chip spoke up beside him.

 

“That’s over a two-degree error,” Seaview’s Exec noted in disbelief.

 

Harry nodded, having already assessed the situation.  “Sounds like to me, a problem in the Inertial Navigator,” he noted, looking over the sea chart and agreeing with Lee’s determination of their location based solely on the topography of the ocean floor.

 

“That’s what I think too,” Lee replied, turning toward the sonar operator.  “Sonar, what does it look like on top?”

 

“Clear waters above, Skipper.”

 

“Very well.  Mr. Morton, prepare to surface the boat,” he ordered.

 

“You’re going to use celestial navigation?” Harry stated more than asked, with a twitch of his lip, barely holding back the satisfying smile that Seaview’s Captain wasn’t taking anything for granted.

 

“It’s the only way to know for sure,” Lee replied.  “Chip, get me an updated weather report; I’ve got 57 navigational stars to choose from, but it won’t do us any good if I they’re covered by cloud cover.”

 

“Aye, aye, Skipper.”

 

“Mr. O’Brien, let’s break out the cold-weather gear.  You and I are going to shoot the stars,” Lee announced with a confident hand on Bobby’s shoulder, a clear indication to the entire Control Room that the young officer was absolved of any ill-handling of the boat.

 

* * * * *

 

Three faces framed in fur-lined hooded jackets gazed up at the sky; two with sextants poised against their face, concentrating as they adjusted the arc to determine their geographical position as related to Polaris.  Lee lowered the navigational tool, and referred to his nautical almanac.  A few calculations later, he had finished the sight reductions that would be used to plot their line of position.   He shared his findings with the Admiral then waited for Bobby to complete his calculations.

 

“Very well, Mr. O’Brien,” Lee replied, not one to waste a training opportunity, while acknowledging that their calculations matched, “get down below and plot our position.  I’ll be down shortly.”

 

“Aye, aye, Sir,” the young Lieutenant replied, starting down the ladder.

 

“And Bobby…”

 

“Aye, Sir?” O’Brien said, stopping his downward movement and looking up.

 

“We’ll put the paint job on the Admiral’s bill.”

 

O’Brien’s eyes scanned from Captain Crane to Admiral Nelson before realizing the intended joke, and nodded with a small smile with the knowledge that the Skipper had completely exonerated him.

 

“Thank you, Sirs,” he replied, finishing his descent by landing on the deck with his confidence fully restored, and ready to complete his duties as Officer of the Watch.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee turned toward the Bridge rail and leaned his forearms heavily against it as he gazed out to the cold arctic night sky.  “Did you notice what’s in the path of our altered course?” he asked Harry, who had taken a similar position beside him.

 

“A small island,” Harry replied, demonstrating he was just as on top of the situation as his captain.

 

“I’m getting a little uncomfortable with this breadcrumb trail, Admiral,” Lee stated with his arms folded on top of the rail.

 

“You believe we were sabotaged,” Harry stated more than asked.

 

“Do you think I’m being paranoid?” Lee asked turning toward Harry for his answer.

 

“No, but I think the answer lies in what we find when we take a look at the N6A.”

 

“I agree, but I think we both know what you’re going to find when you open it up,” Lee stated, the cold night producing cold puffs of condensed air as they spoke.

 

“A manual adjustment to the Inertial Navigator,” Harry replied with a slight wave of his gloved hand.

 

“But what are we up against?” Lee asked in frustration.  “The pings are most likely man-made, but what about the aurora activity and the quakes?  And now, it looks like we’ve got a spy aboard!” he added with a hand slap on the rail.

 

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, “perhaps the aurora activity has just been coincidental, but the underwater detection equipment and the Net have both given us solid data regarding the unexplained pings, and I’m still willing to bet they’re man-made.  And if this does turn out to be sabotage,” Harry continued in reference to their altered course, “then we have physical proof that someone wants us there.”

 

“That’s what bothers me,” Lee admitted with a slight shake of his head.  “This phenomenon has been investigated by some of the best marine agencies in the world for almost a year, and it all just falls in place as soon as Seaview shows up,” he finished with a demonstrative hand to the air.

 

“Very well, let’s talk about what we’re going to do about it,” Harry said, before raising a hand as if to interrupt himself, “but might I suggest we take this brainstorming session somewhere a bit warmer?” he asked with a small grin.

 

Lee smiled and pushed off the bridge rail, taking the time to look up at the stars and gaze a moment, his smile fading and his resolve deepening as he spoke.  “We’ve been lured here, Admiral; I know it as well as I know the stars I navigate by.”

 

Harry pursed his lips and nodded; his determination clearly visible in his piercing blue eyes.  “Then let’s go see what the Inertial Navigator tells us.”

 

Lee nodded, heading to the deck hatch and turning it.  He raised the hatch and then froze in place, spotting out of the corner of his eye a familiar, but all-to-convenient light show as a bright green aurora filled the sky, dancing with extreme movements and activity that would have delighted any star gazer.

 

Both men took in the sight realizing that though auroras in this region were common during magnetic disturbances in the atmosphere, the timing for this particular aurora seemed more than coincidental.  They exchanged glances before descending down the ladder, more convinced now than ever that their next move warranted extreme diligence.

 

* * * * *

 

“The N6A Inertial Navigator received an intentional adjustment that resulted in a two-degree error in navigation.  It was a minute and very detailed adjustment,” Admiral Nelson explained, sitting at his desk with his hands folded in front of him.

 

“That means it took someone with a high degree of electronic knowledge, as well as familiarity with the N6A, not to mention navigation in general,” Lee added, standing beside Harry as the two briefed Chip Morton and Chief Sharkey of their concerns.

 

“A spy aboard?” Chip asked incredulously. 

 

“It’s the only explanation,” Lee replied.

 

“Then Sir,” Sharkey asked tentatively, “if we know we have a spy aboard, and he obviously altered our course, then why are we going along with it?” he asked suspiciously, but still managing to stay respectful.

 

“You mean, why are we still headed on the altered course?” Lee clarified. 

 

“Aye Sir,” Sharkey answered, as Chip sat forward, apparently wondering the same thing.

 

“The Admiral and I discussed it, and while it seems apparent that someone laid out a pretty impressive ruse to get Seaview here, we feel to walk away without knowing their angle may be far more dangerous in the long run.  We need to know who’s behind this elaborate plan and why; and the only way to keep from tipping our hand that we know about their plan is to continue on this heading,” Lee explained.

 

“Right now, we’re on equal footing,” the Admiral joined in.  “They know we’re coming, and we know they’re out there.  Now, we’ll take the necessary precautions to see that we don’t go into this blindly,” Harry continued, “and that’s why we’re only taking the two of you into our confidence on the matter.”

 

Chip and Sharkey nodded as Lee picked up the conversation.

 

“Chief, we’ll need you to keep your eyes and ears open.  We still have a saboteur running around, though with Seaview still on course, we believe he’ll lay low; but I don’t want to be surprised again,” Lee added with resolve, leaning over Harry’s desk as he spoke.  “Chip, I want security posted at all vital areas of the boat.  We’re going to General Quarters and I want Seaview ready for action.”

 

“Aye, aye Skipper.”

 

“One more thing, Chip, ready FS1.  I don’t intend on sending Seaview in blindly, we’ll use the flying sub to patrol the area beyond our sonar reach.  Chief,” Lee continued, nodding toward Sharkey, “I’ll need a small armed detail to accompany me on FS1; two men, armed with laser rifles.  We’re going to find out what all the fuss is about on that island,” he added solemnly, his resolution palpable.

 

“Aye, Sir, ummmm,” Sharkey stammered.  “Does this island have a name?”

 

“The natives call it Tarrak Tonraq Panuk… Shadow Spirit Island,” Harry answered to Sharkey’s raised eyebrows, his superstitious nature obviously piqued.  “That’s it for now, gentlemen,” Harry said, wrapping up the briefing and ignoring the Chief’s unspoken concern. 

 

“Aye, Sir,” the men replied as they stood, having obviously been dismissed.

 

Chip and Sharkey exited the cabin as Lee turned to lean against Harry’s desk with his arms folded in front of him, reaching up with one hand to unconsciously rub his temple.

 

“Are you up for this, Lee?” Harry asked.

 

Lee stopped rubbing and looked toward Harry.  “What do you mean?”

 

“Nothing big, I just noticed you’ve been a little run-down the last few days,” the Admiral replied, raising a non-accusatory hand to stave off Lee’s knee-jerk reaction to having his health scrutinized.

 

Lee chuckled, shaking his head slightly and adjusting to sit completely on the edge of the desk.  “You don’t miss much do you?” he asked in jest.  “I guess I picked up Chip’s bug.  It’s not that bad, other than being a little tired, I feel fine,” he admitted, knowing there wasn’t much use in denying what Harry had already noticed.  He wasn’t, however, interested in baring his soul concerning the exhausting dreams he’d woken to regarding Krueger.  He had no time to coddle the uncomfortable memories the dreams invoked; keeping Seaview and her crew safe was his only concern at present.  Besides, it wasn’t the first time the subject of Krueger had risen to the forefront; he had managed to slay that demon over the course of the last year and had learned to tuck it back into its Pandora’s Box and move on.

 

“Fine, Lee,” Harry replied, his concern solely for his friend, and never once questioning his fitness for duty.  “When are you going to shove off?”

 

“As soon Sharkey assembles the detail,” he said standing and taking a step toward the door.  “Oh, by the way,” he said turning back, “that aurora…?”

 

“Not on the forecast,” Harry replied evenly to Lee’s nod; the mystery only growing and providing more reason for them to find out who was luring Seaview here, and just as importantly… why.

 

* * * * *

 

“FS1 to Seaview,” Lee called as the flying sub glided under the ice, effectively doubling Seaview’s scanning capability by patrolling the waters just out of the submarine’s sonar reach. 

 

“This is Seaview, we read you FS1.”

 

“Admiral, still no sonar contact and the scanner has come up empty as well,” Lee reported.  “I’ve got a clear patch up ahead, we’re going to take to the air and do a visual recon before landing.”

 

“Very well, keep us informed.”

 

“Aye Sir; flying sub out.”

 

* * * * *

 

The spirit retreated back to the installation.  He had stayed aboard Seaview long enough to know that Nelson and Crane intended on continuing the course he had laid out for the mighty submarine.  Whether they had discovered that he was purposely leading the submarine to the installation was unimportant.  He had succeeded in his intricate and well-played out plan to not only bring Seaview here, but Nelson as well; his scientific knowledge was the key to the plan.  And yet, his satisfaction of executing the plan so flawlessly was marred by the war currently raging within his ghostly form. 

 

The need to answer the Call from the other side had been all consuming to him earlier; and yet now, he found himself oddly tempted to do something he would have found utterly contemptable only a short while ago.  The conflict within confused him as much as the temptation to take Chip Morton’s body for his own intrigued him.  He knew the right course, the right path; but he couldn’t dismiss so readily the opportunity that lay squarely in front of him; the chance to live the life that had been so cruelly stolen from him.

 

He shrunk back, sensing Crane and the flying submarine’s approach.  He had much to think about; much to consider before making his final decision.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

“Everything looks normal here, Admiral.  No sign of any man-made objects.  In fact, it’s a barren island, pretty much a haven for seals and arctic foxes, we even spotted a polar bear,” Lee reported, with a hand to his throat mic.  “We did spot some unusual terrain.”

 

“How so?” Harry inquired.

 

“The rest of the island is covered in snow and ice, but there’s a mound with tundra exposed.  It could be a natural hot spring; we’re going to start there.”

 

“Very well, Lee; keep a sharp eye out.”

 

“Will do, Admiral; Crane out.”

 

Lee circled his intended landing site in preparation for their descent.  “Hold on, everyone.”

 

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” Patterson replied from the rear seat as Kowalski stowed the scanner he’d been using before adding his own reply.

 

“All set, Sir.”

 

“Here we go,” Lee answered, bringing the flying sub down for a controlled, but slightly bumpy landing on the uneven snow-covered tundra.  “Okay men, suit up,” he ordered, shutting down the controls as Ski and Pat unbuckled their harnesses and headed for their cold weather gear.  Once FS1 was secure, Lee joined them, grabbing his hooded jacket and zipping up.

 

“Here you go, Skipper,” Pat said, handing Lee a portable scanner.

 

“Okay men, don’t let your guard down and sing out if you spot anything unusual.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” Pat and Ski replied, adjusting the straps of the laser rifles on their shoulders.

 

Lee cracked the side hatch and exited first, scanning the area and pointing toward the mound dead ahead.  The late-spring temperatures produced a cozy twelve degrees Fahrenheit as the three men moved toward the mount. 

 

“The scanner is picking up some strange readings,” Lee noted.

 

“Like what, Sir?” Pat asked.

 

“This entire area,” Lee said, turning in a circle as he scanned, “is hollow under our feet.”

 

“Like a cave system?” Ski asked.

 

Lee shook his head and pursed his lips, “No, a series of rectangular rooms... definitely man-made,” he surmised.  “Look for an entrance,” he ordered as he continued to scan the area. 

 

Ski and Pat fanned out, looking for signs of a trap door or the like, as Lee continued to scan.

 

“Right here, Skipper!” Kowalski called.

 

“Good work, Ski,” Lee said, closing in and shouldering the strap of the scanner as they spotted steps overgrown with tundra that led down to a door.  The mound over the door had done a good job of concealing the entrance. 

 

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s used this door for some time,” Patterson said, noting the rusty hinges that showed no outward sign of recent use.  The rusted padlock on the door also indicated that it had been sealed for a long time.

 

“I think you’re right, but be ready anyway,” he said, nodding for Ski to dispose of the padlock.

 

Kowalski used the butt end of his rifle, rapping the lock a few times before it broke open.

 

“All right men, let’s go,” Lee ordered, pulling the door open.

 

“Ah… Skipper?” Ski asked, scratching the side of his head in a nervous tick.  “You uh… don’t think there’s anything to the name of the island, do you?” he asked hesitantly.

 

Lee looked back, somewhat unimpressed with the rating’s question.  “Well, we’ll soon find out; won’t we?”

 

“Aye Sir,” Ski replied, trading glances with Pat as the Skipper stepped over the threshold.

 

He took another step in when a bare light bulb affixed to the wall lit up, causing each man to stop and examine their surroundings, looking for clues to their sudden illumination.  The bulb itself was covered in a light dust, and the musty air suggested that the door had been sealed for some time.

 

“There’s a sensor,” Lee said, pointing out the likely explanation for their lighting and continued down the rock staircase.  “Watch your step,” he cautioned his men, who traded uneasy glances; both men were seasoned and had seen a lot aboard Seaview, but so far, the island was living up to its spooky name.

 

“There’s another door down here,” Lee announced, turning the heavy-duty door handle and finding it locked.

 

“Ski,” he said in a one-word order, standing back and giving Kowalski room as the seaman aimed his laser rifle and shot a beam at the door handle until it turned bright red, before falling to the floor.  He kicked the door open, as more musty air filled their lungs producing coughs from all the men.

 

Lee stepped through first, immediately feeling a change in temperature.  He unzipped his jacket and pulled it off, with Ski and Pat following suit.

 

“It’s got to be seventy degrees down here,” Ski announced, his voice echoing through the room and its connecting rooms ahead.

 

“At least,” Lee affirmed, dropping his jacket and the scanner on a table with only a thin dust film.  The underground facility had obviously not been accessed in years and was well sealed, accounting for the lack of significant dust, he figured.  As with the stairs, the lights illuminated as they entered the room, which appeared to be a receiving area for supplies.  On one side sat a desk with wooden filing cabinets; the opposite wall sported shelves with wooden boxes left haphazardly about. 

 

“Check out those two rooms, I’ll take the one ahead,” Lee said, motioning his men toward the adjacent doors.  Lee entered into the large room and stood still for a moment, taking in the complex control boards that filled an entire wall.  He walked forward, slowly taking in the instruments while attempting to ascertain their functions on the curved panel.  By the looks of the equipment, it was easy to date the installation to WWII.  He continued to peruse the panel and its various instruments and thought it odd that the gauges weren’t labeled clearly, and instead were coded with what appeared to be an arbitrary numbing system.  Perhaps indicating, he surmised, that the top-secret installation was even top secret to the technicians manning the stations.   It also hadn’t escaped his notice that the placards were written in German; but he found it extremely curious to note the blackened burn marks covering every swastika on the placards, even behind the glass.

 

His concentration was interrupted as Ski entered back into the control room.

 

“There’s two rooms back there, Skipper, barracks; I’d say one for officers and one for enlisted,” Kowalski reported.

 

“Very well, check the room back there,” he said, with a nod behind him.

 

“Aye, Skipper,” he said, turning toward the open doorway on his right with his rifle aimed in the direction he was heading as Lee continued to study the gauges before.

 

“I found a galley back there, Skipper,” Pat reported as he entered into the control room. 

 

“Very well,” Lee replied, turning toward Pat, just as Ski walked out of the adjacent room he was investigating.

 

“Looks like a laboratory of some kind,” Kowalski reported.

 

“See if you can find any notebooks or manuals.  I have no idea what these controls are for, but there are gauges here that are still functioning.”

 

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” the two seaman replied as Lee brought a hand to his chin in thought.  He had no idea that the Nazi’s had a facility in the arctic, and he was deeply concerned with what its purpose might be, especially since some of the gauges were still active.

 

“Skipper, I think you should see this,” Ski called.

 

Lee tore himself away from the control panel and joined his men in the laboratory.  The remains of the pungent odor of long-since decayed flesh wafted in the room as Pat stepped away from what appeared to be a storage closet of some kind.  Lee approached, spotting immediately the remains of three men, the bullet holes in their skulls telling the sad story of their demise.  By their tattered decayed clothing and the lab jackets still draped on the skeleton remains, he would guess the three men were technicians, or perhaps even scientists.

 

“Are there any more remains?” Lee asked.

 

“Not that we found,” Pat replied, still attempting to shake off the disturbing sight.

 

“It looks like they were expendable when they cleared out,” Lee noted disgustedly.

 

“We found these, Skipper,” Ski said, pointing to a cabinet loaded with five volumes of manuals along with several notebooks.

 

“Let’s take all these back to the Admiral,” Lee said, directing his men away from the closet.

 

“What is this place, Skipper?” Ski asked, as he gathered up the binders.

 

“Apparently, a secret Nazi installation,” he answered with a sigh.  “Some of the gauges are still working, and with the lights and heat in here, there must be an active power source fueling it.  I think we’d better find out just what this installation was used for, and if it still poses a danger with the live power source.”

 

The ratings nodded, and finished gathering up the binders, placing them into a nearby wooden box to take with them.  Kowalski reached for the last binder, picking it up as a small notebook fell out producing a light thud on the cabinet’s metal shelf.

 

“Skipper?”  Ski called, picking up the notebook and examining it.

 

“What is it, Ski?” Lee asked, turning around.

 

“Looks like some sort of journal or diary to me,” the seaman replied.

 

Lee reached for it curiously, leafing through the first few blank pages until he came upon a title page which read in German, “Property of Hulbert Krause”.

 

“Pack it up,” he said, handing the journal back to Kowalski, “it might just give us some insight as to what was going on here, and why those men were executed.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” Kowalski replied, not quite comfortable with taking the diary, but obeying nonetheless.

 

“What should we do about them, Sir?” Pat asked with a nod toward the closet.

 

“We’ll recover the remains later, but first we need to deal with the installation,” Lee replied, he started to walk away, but didn’t feel right about leaving the forgotten men just as they had found them.  “Pat, grab a sheet or blanket from the barracks.”

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

A moment later Patterson returned with a green wool blanket.  Lee placed the blanket over the skeletal remains before closing the door, hoping to give the dead men at least that dignity until he could see to dealing with the remains properly.  “Okay men, let’s make sure there aren’t any more binders we can collect, and then let’s get out of here.”

 

* * * * *

 

The spirit felt a great release of peace as his remains were covered with the dignity of a stranger’s good deed.  There in the closet lay the remains of the three scientists whose lives had indeed, been deemed expendable by their Nazi taskmasters.  The peace was so strong and real, that he felt he could answer the Call right here and now; but he resisted, knowing that his mission regarding Seaview wasn’t complete.  Furthermore, the final question of his great temptation had not yet been resolved.

 

He watched as Crane and his men retraced their steps to the outer room and donned their cold weather gear, then carried the box full of his life’s research up the stairs; research so dangerous that he had given up his eternal rest to keep it hidden.

 

Nelson will finish this, he thought hopefully, as the lights dimmed; the sensors no longer detecting the heat signatures of Seaview’s men.  He was alone again in his dark, self-inflicted prison; only this time, the loneliness was compounded by the time he had spent among the living.  The submarine had been full of life and activity, and his probes and possessions had added substance to an otherwise dismal existence.  His soul ached as never before; his choices were clear, yet unsettled; never had right and wrong been so blurry in his entire existence.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Patterson and Kowalski brought up the wooden box of manuals and notebooks from the flying sub and set them on the conference table.

 

“It’s some sort of abandoned Nazi installation from WWII,” Lee explained, briefing Harry and Chip.

 

“Were you able to ascertain its function?” Harry asked curiously.

 

“No, not a clue.  Some of the gauges measure weather indicators, but I know it’s not a weather station.”

 

“I wouldn’t think so,” Harry replied, opening the first binder and thumbing through it.  “If the Nazi’s took the time to build such an elaborate installation so far from Eastern Europe, then I imagine it must have been tactical in nature.”

 

“That’s what bothers me.  The lights were activated by sensors as we entered, and the installation itself was maintained at a temperature of around seventy degrees.”

 

Harry nodded, listening as he unloaded the binders.  “Which means a power source is still operating, some forty years later, and explains just why the snow is melted above the installation,” he deduced.

 

“What’s this?” Chip asked, turning the wooden box around to show the Admiral.

 

Harry pursed his lips at the burn mark that barely concealed the insignia original imprinted under it.  “Why would they have taken the time to cover the swastika before abandoning the site?” he asked incredulously.

 

“I don’t know, but I can tell you that every swastika in that installation was blacked out just like this one, even on the placards behind glass,” Lee said, this information only adding to the mystery.

 

“Hmmm,” Harry replied, turning his attention to a binder marked with a Roman Numeral I.  “Operation… something… Hammer.  I guess my German is a little rusty,” he admitted with a half-sided grin.

 

Lee leaned over his shoulder and read out loud, “Operation Heavy Hammer,” interpreting the heading with ease to Harry’s raised eyebrow, to which Lee just shrugged his shoulders.  “My German got a whole lot better about a year ago,” he explained evenly.  Both Harry and Chip nodded, and nothing else was said, both realizing the subtle reference to Lee’s near-death experience at the hands of Krueger.

 

“All right,” Harry said, breaking the short silence.  “My German isn’t bad, but how about you join me in the lab, Lee?  Together, we might be able to find out just what that installation was used for; and perhaps just as importantly, why Seaview was led here so serendipitously and by whom.”

 

“Aye Sir,” Lee replied, exchanging glances between Chip and Harry, as all three men considered the strange journey that the mystery of the pings had taken them thus far.

 

* * * * *

 

Binders, notebooks, and half-drank coffee mugs strewn the lab table in a sort of organized chaos as Harry and Lee poured over the technical manuals found in the secret Nazi installation.

 

“The project was funded under the Reich Research Council, this one was denoted as the ‘Second of Ten’,” Lee explained after reading through a lengthy introduction passage.

 

“Now, I find that very interesting,” Harry commented, sitting back from his own reading to address the subject.

 

“How so?”

 

“The Reich Research Council spearheaded Germany’s nuclear program,” Harry explained.  “It started out as three research projects under three main umbrellas, namely; nuclear reactors, heavy water research, and uranium isotope separation research.  Now, the Reich Research Council was eventually divided into nine parts; all independent and driven by their respective directors in order to further Germany’s nuclear program.”

 

“But if the Council only had nine divisions, then where does this ‘Second of Ten’ come in?” Lee asked, honing in precisely to Harry’s point of the history lesson he’d just given.

 

“I believe the ‘Second’ is in reference to the second umbrella; heavy water research,” Harry explained.  “It appears to me that this project leaned heavily toward hydrogen research.” 

 

Lee leaned forward clearly interested, and well-versed in the fact that heavy water was known as such specifically because of its properties of heavy hydrogen. 

 

“I believe the ‘Ten’ is a reference to a very secret “Tenth” program under the Reich Research Council,” Harry continued.

 

“Perhaps the German’s invested more into a hydrogen bomb than was previously known?” Lee asked.

 

“Perhaps,” Harry answered noncommittedly, “there’s a lot here to digest; we’re just going to have to dive into the manuals for our answers.”

 

“Then I think we’d better have Cookie send another pot of coffee,” Lee replied with a grin as he reached for the mic.

 

* * * * *

 

“Is this a private party, or can anyone come?” Chip asked, peering around the half-opened door.

 

Harry sat up and stretched.  “Come in, Chip,” he replied, rubbing kinks out of his neck as Lee did the same.  They’d been going at it all day, not even dining in the Wardroom and having had dinner delivered to the lab to continue their work.

 

Chip entered completely, followed by a steward carrying in a tray with a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of hot baked cookies.

 

“Cookie thought you might need a little pick me up,” he said with a nod to the tray.

 

“Sounds good,” Harry replied, reaching for the fresh coffee as the steward collected the dinner dishes before leaving.

 

“Are you any closer to solving the mystery?” Chip asked, taking a seat on a nearby stool.

 

“It depends,” Harry replied, setting down his coffee mug as Chip’s eyebrow rose in response to the noncommittal answer, “on just what mystery we’re talking about,” he finished.

 

“If you’re talking about the ‘pings’, we’re no closer to solving that, but we’re making progress on the purpose of the installation,” Lee said, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie. 

 

“Speaking of ‘pings’, we’re stationed 400 yards off the island and we’ve lowered the detection gear as ordered,” Chip reported, “but the strange thing is, we haven’t had one contact.”

 

Harry just chuckled and shook his head in mock amusement.  “No, I wouldn’t imagine you would have,” he stated vaguely, before continuing, “the breadcrumb trail ends right here,” he finished with a purposeful tap of his finger on the table.

 

Chip brow tightened as he leaned forward.

 

“The installation was involved in a very top-secret project involving hydrogen,” Lee explained, filling his first officer in on the details.  “According to Admiral Nelson, a very dangerous project,” he added.

 

“It appears that the scientists were exploring the realm of antimatter.  Scientists today are just now coming to terms with the fact that antimatter exists,” Harry explained.  “These scientists were decades ahead of their time.”

 

“The scientists started out the project as a study on producing heavy water for Germany’s wartime nuclear program; but the lead scientist, Dr. Hulbert Krause, inadvertently made a discovery that led to the research of harnessing antihydrogen atoms,” Lee explained.

 

“Antihydrogen atoms?” Chip questioned, having never heard of such an element before.

 

Harry nodded knowingly.  “As you’re aware, the hydrogen bomb utilizes energy that the atom bomb doesn’t, which is why a thermonuclear hydrogen bomb produces a blast equaling 10,000 kilotons of TNT; that’s 500 times the power of an atom bomb,” he added fervidly.

 

“Whew,” Chip said, blowing out a whistle between his teeth.  “And the antihydrogen is apparently just as powerful?” he asked.

 

“If they could have solved the problems of cooling the antiprotons and harnessing the antimatter in a containment field, then the resulting kilotons of TNT would have been off the charts,” Harry finished gravely.

 

“A doomsday weapon,” Chip surmised to both Harry and Lee’s solemn nods.  “But if they couldn’t solve the cooling or containment problem; then the project wasn’t feasible,” he surmised.

 

“That’s what we’re meant to assume, or more importantly what the Nazis were meant to assume,” Harry countered, leaning forward and gaining intensity as he spoke.  “The work here was brilliant, as I said before, decades before their time; and I’m convinced that Dr. Krause purposely derailed the project.  There’s no other explanation for not taking certain findings to their next conclusion,” Harry postulated.

 

“Then what we’re sitting on…” Chip started.

 

“Is possibly the greatest threat to mankind’s existence today,” Harry stated emphatically.

 

“All right, let’s talk about the breadcrumb trail we followed to get here,” Lee suggested, breaking the ominous silence that had followed Harry’s statement, “because I’m inclined to believe that whoever laid out that trail wanted more than Seaview here, they wanted you here, Admiral,” he stated firmly.

 

“That makes sense,” Chip agreed.  “Who else would be able to decipher this information like this,” he noted, adding credence to Lee’s assertion.

 

“Perhaps,” Harry conceded.

 

“The ‘pings’ could have been produced by any one of many possible man-made sonar units, although we still haven’t found the source or just how those pings seemed to move about the ocean floor,” Chip continued, contributing to the impromptu brainstorming session as the coffee and cookies were soon forgotten.

 

“But the increased activity in the aurora, I just don’t see how that ties in,” Lee noted.

 

“The physics of the aurora may give us clue,” Harry said.  “Aurora’s are produced when a solar wind sufficiently disturbs the magnetosphere; the resulting ionization and excitation of the charged particles, mainly in the form of electrons and protons, emits lights in varying colors and complexity.”****

 

Lee and Chip both nodded their basic understanding of an aurora, but understood that when the Admiral took the time get scientific with them, it usually meant he was headed somewhere specific and very relevant to their current quest.

 

“Now the form of the aurora is also dependent on the amount of acceleration imparted to precipitating particles,” he continued as Lee nodded, but was clearly reaching his saturation point of science know-how.  “Precipitating protons generally produce optical emissions as incident hydrogen atoms, after gaining electrons from the atmosphere.”

 

Lee raised a hand to interject into the science lesson, in order to recap in layman’s terms.  It was sometimes a difficult task to do once the Admiral got on a roll enlightening Seaview’s Captain.

 

“Are you saying that the research here could have affected the visual aurora?” Lee asked.

 

“I’m not sure, but according to Dr. Krause’s work, antihydrogen is produced artificially in particle accelerators,” Harry said sitting back.

 

“Admiral, are you saying that that control room’s function is to manage a particle accelerator?” Lee asked, shocked at the thought.

 

“A particle accelerator?” Chip asked, tightening his brow in question.

 

“It’s a machine that uses electromagnetic fields to propel charged particles at nearly light speed to contain them in well-defined beams,” Harry explained, grabbing a manual that he had skimmed through earlier and thumbing through the pages until he found a drawing that was very vague and ambiguous, considering the fact that it was found in an operating manual.

 

“We’re not talking about a bomb then,” Lee interjected leaning over with the sudden realization.

 

“No,” Harry realized solemnly.  “I believe we’re looking at a powerful and destructive laser beam capable of reaching across continents…”

 

“And able to tear this world apart,” Lee finished sitting back at the gravity of the revelation.

 

“Yes,” Harry replied sitting back as well, the brainstorming session having been successful in allowing him to jump from one fact to the next, in order to tie the loose ends together for the conclusion they had just reached.

 

Chip blew out a long whistle between his teeth and rubbed the back of his neck before remembering the earlier briefing.  “Wait a minute; you didn’t describe anything like this in the installation.”

 

Lee shook his head and pursed his lips.  “There must be a secret room that we didn’t find.”

 

“Or possibly the research hadn’t progressed that far,” Chip added hopefully as a viable possibility.

 

Harry shook his head in disagreement.  “That’s not likely, considering the fact that the Ising/Wideroe linear accelerator was visualized as far back as 1928.  No, gentlemen, it’s highly likely that there is an accelerator somewhere in that installation,” he said emphatically, tapping the manual insistently upon the three words.

 

Another silence filled the room as the three officer’s eyes gravitated to the sketch Harry had found in the manual, before Lee spoke up again.

 

“Then that takes us back to who knew about this, and why they just didn’t come to you with the information instead of leading us, and everyone else, on this merry little chase,” he said, standing and pacing off the frustration of the continued mystery.

 

Harry chuckled humorlessly and rubbed his brow.  “I don’t know, Lee, I just don’t know,” he said, his weariness at studying technical manuals in another language all day finally catching up with him.

 

“The most likely reason,” Chip offered calmly, “was because someone didn’t trust anyone else, but Admiral Nelson with his information.”

 

“I agree,” Lee said turning toward his first officer and nodding, before heading back to his stool and leaning over the table with his hands folded.  “Then what’s our next step?” he asked, his hazel eyes boring with the intensity of the burden they now bore.

 

Harry sighed, his shoulders heaving with his expelled breath.  “Our next step is to make another visit to the installation and verify our hypothesis by finding the particle accelerator itself,” he said as Lee nodded his agreement.  “But not tonight,” he added quickly.  “Let’s all retire and get a good night sleep.  Lee, I suggest we assume radio silence until we know exactly what we’re dealing with, and furthermore, that our postulations go no further than this room,” he said with an insistent tap on the table.  “At least, until we verify the particulars,” he added placidly.

 

Lee nodded wearily, accepting the fact that he was dead-tired, having been jolted out of a restless Krueger-filled sleep very early this morning, and he’d been running on all cylinders since.

 

“Sir,” Chip said solemnly, “might I suggest posting a security detail here, since we still have an unidentified saboteur running around?” 

 

“Mmmm, I’d almost lost sight of that fact with all this,” Harry said motioning to the table filled with manuals.

 

“Good thinking, Chip,” Lee complimented.  “See to it,” he ordered, now feeling downright exhausted.

 

“Aye,” Chip replied, standing and heading for the door, glad to take the burden off Lee, and hoping his commanding officer had the good sense to skip the walk about the boat this evening.

 

Lee stood and stacked the manuals into a pile, inadvertently running across the journal.  “We didn’t have much time to delve into this,” he noted, holding up the small book.

 

“I’ll take that back with me to my cabin and skim through it tonight,” Harry said, reaching for the journal.

 

“Are you sure, Sir?  I could take it back with me,” Lee suggested since his German wasn’t just “better” as he alluded to earlier, but indeed; since Krueger, he had discovered that he was completely fluent in the language.

 

Harry stuffed it in his front pocket and raised an eyebrow.  “I’ll call you if there are any big words I can’t make out,” he said in jest, invoking a humorous chuckle from Seaview’s Captain.

 

“Aye, Sir,” Lee replied with an embarrassed grin as the two headed for the door.

 

Harry had barely finished turning the key to the lab door when the security detail showed up, securing the secrets of the installation safely behind the locked, guarded door.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Hulbert Krause’s spirit roamed Seaview’s darkened simulated corridors concealing his misty presence, and leaving behind only the coolness of his icy existence.  He had watched Nelson, Crane, and Morton come to exactly the right conclusions earlier in the evening.  Of course, he still had to ensure that Nelson made the right decision, but that was tomorrow’s work.  Tonight, was possibly his last night as a spirit; even now Nelson was pouring over his journal.  Sometime tomorrow, a decision would be made regarding the secret he had protected for over forty years.  There was only one outcome that was acceptable, and he hoped with all the hope left in him that he hadn’t read Admiral Harriman Nelson wrong.  But there was another decision yet to be made regarding Morton.  Try as he might, he just wasn’t able to ignore the life that could be his.

 

He made his way to Officer’s Country, leaving behind him a cold trail as icy as his hardened heart.  He reached Morton’s door and paused, there was still enough Hulbert Krause left in him to questions his actions.  He suddenly realized that the answer to his questions concerning Morton lay elsewhere.  He withdrew reveling in renewed satisfaction for the probe he intended as he continued his frigid track toward Crane’s cabin.

 

* * * * *

 

The spirit hovered over Lee Crane, nearly salivating in the experience he was about to partake in.  Crane had fought his intrusion; his strong will resisting the memories the spirit was forcing upon him.  He pushed hard and broke through victoriously, invoking a groan from the sleeping man and then reveled in a foreign emotion; a moment of unchecked superiority before searching Crane’s next memory in the Krueger ordeal. 

 

Seaview’s captain had been too close to death to realize that Nelson had carried him to the raft, and had made a mad dash to the flying sub anchored nearby, in order to avoid the incoming missile, he’d ordered Morton to fire.  These events were known to Crane after the fact, and didn’t hold the same emotional impact of Crane’s own experiences, so he glossed over Krueger’s empty threats in the flying sub just prior to the island’s destruction.  Krueger left hastily, knowing that his hand had been forced by not only Nelson, but by Lani herself.  Her plan to free their souls had worked; and Krueger, having faced the choice of Lani crossing without him, finally succumbed to her will and left this earth forever.  Just what was Krueger’s fate wasn’t for them to know, but Lani had left an impression in Nelson to assure him that the crossing was their final act on this earth. 

 

The spirit’s mist swelled once he reached Crane’s next memory; it was full of the strong emotions produced by the pain and the triumph of his ordeal.  He soaked in the heavy emotions and probed deeper, ignoring Crane’s struggle under the misty haze and seeking only to satisfy his own curiosity; knowingly pushing forward, despite the pain the memories invoked in the sleeping man.

 

* * *

 

He was floating peacefully; the excruciating pain that had seared his side like a branding iron was noticeably absent.  His awareness preceded his wakefulness, and in those few private moments he searched his mind for the intruder who had tormented him relentlessly.  Gratefully, he found himself blessedly alone in his own body; a confusing thought to wake to as the sedation finally let go of its hold.

 

He breathed in the smell of Sickbay, the ultra-sanitized odor of healing and care that, at previous times in his career, he’d found annoying.  This time however, it was like spotting a lighthouse on a stormy night.  He heard someone beside him, and fluttered his eyes open, a task that was much harder than it should have been, finding himself staring at the underside of an overhead bunk.  An airy breath of relief passed his lips and he was barely able to swallow back the elation threatening to overflow in unwanted tears.

 

“Skipper?”

 

Jamie’s voice.  It was true… he was home.

 

His body felt heavy, it was more than the doctor’s healing drugs he realized, but a weariness that stemmed from a weakened body recovering from an injury much too close to death.  He turned his head slowly and focused on the caring eyes of Seaview’s doctor.

 

“Welcome back, Skipper,” Jamie greeted, his satisfied smile held in check by his continued concern for his patient. 

 

“How long?” he asked, his voice much too airy and weak for his liking.

 

“You were brought back aboard two days ago.  I removed the bullet and made the repairs.  You’ve been unconscious ever since.”

 

Lee nodded, his eyes closing then squeezing shut tight as unpleasant memories of events much too fresh suddenly rushed over him.

 

“Skipper?”

 

He raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed, taking a few moments to regain his composure before speaking.  “I’m okay, Jamie.  I need to talk to Chip and Admiral Nelson.”

 

“Skipper, you’re too weak; you’ve been through a traumatic…”

 

“Please, Jamie, I need to do this now.”

 

Jamie took a deep breath in and nodded.  “Very well, Lee,” he relented.

 

“Tell Chip that I want a crewman here as well; someone who was in the Control Room when… the Admiral shot me.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” Jamie replied; though he would rather see his patient resting, he was nonetheless thrilled to see Seaview’s Captain issuing orders and in control of both his mind and emotions.  As satisfying as that fact was, Jamieson couldn’t help but think about the Admiral.  What did Lee remember and what would his reaction be to the man who had shot him in cold blood?

 

* * *

 

Lee swallowed, hoping to find a stronger speaking voice as Chip, Nelson, and Kowalski approached his bunk.  He was still flat on his back and an IV bag was hanging at the head of his bed.  He took a small breath in, having already figured out that the less he moved the better, as the three men moved to the side of his bed with Harry at his feet, noticeably taking a position furthest from him.  Jamie was standing nearby and Lee motioned him closer; it was important that Seaview’s doctor understood what he was about to say as well.

 

“You all know that Admiral Nelson shot me in the Control Room,” he stopped to take a breath that he wished he didn’t need, creating an unintentional dramatic pause.  “I want to make this clear, so that the whole crew knows.  Admiral Nelson saved the life of every man aboard Seaview when he did what he did.  The scuttlebutt has probably been running rampant,” he continued making eye contact with Kowalski, “but it’s all true.  Captain Krueger was exactly what you thought he was… a ghost who refused to leave this earth.  His ultimatum was my life for the crew’s, as evident in the loss of power that bottomed us, the loss of air, and the unexplained density that kept us from moving; it was Krueger’s doing.  I know this because, Krueger was inside me, and I was aware of every twisted thought in his twisted mind,” he added with more emotion than he intended.  “Admiral Nelson,” he turned his attention directly to Harry now as he spoke, “made the same decision that I would have made, given no other options or way out.”  He had to stop and take another breath, and swallowed back an uncomfortable groan.

 

“Skipper…” Jamie started in concern, but Lee interrupted him with a weak, but definite hand movement that said he would continue.

 

“There will be no Inquiry, no court-martial.  We’ve all seen the impossible on our voyages; you will just have to accept this as another preposterous, but true event.  And I have as much confidence in Admiral’s Nelson’s ability to command as my own.  Is that clear?” he asked, incredibly wearied by the long statement.

 

“Aye Sir,” was rendered almost in unison by everyone except Harry, who looked on with tightly pursed lips to keep his own emotion in check.  Each of the men were well aware of facts that couldn’t be explained by any normal means; Lee walking out of Sickbay as if he weren’t injured at all; the fact that his bleeding had mysteriously ceased; the odd order to surface in order to make better time; and the strange German accent that escaped from time to time; all adding credibility to his account.

 

“That’s all men,” he added airily.

 

“Aye Skipper,” Kowalski replied relieved that the Admiral had been absolved straight from the mouth of the Skipper.  He stepped away immediately and headed for the door, stopping to take one last look back before exiting Sickbay.

 

“I’ll check in on you later, Lee,” Chip added with a hand to his shoulder, his own relief unmistakable. He’d taken a huge chance believing in Admiral Nelson’s strange ghost story; a gamble he was willing to take for the minute possibility of saving his best friend.

 

“Okay, Chip,” he replied, his eyes telling his all-but brother that he was looking forward to it.

 

“Not too much longer, Lee.  You need rest,” Jamie cautioned, then stepped away, leaving Harry still standing near his feet.

 

“Okay, Jamie.”

 

There was a moment of silence as Lee and Harry looked at each other, neither one able to talk just yet.  Then Harry moved closer, pulling Jamie’s rolling stool nearby and settling in at Lee’s shoulder wearily.

 

“I… didn’t know how much you knew,” Harry said quietly. 

 

“I didn’t at first… when you shot me, I felt incredibly betrayed,” he admitted. 

 

Harry nodded sadly; the look in Lee’s eyes still haunted him, and would for a long time he expected. 

 

“But as soon as Krueger… entered me,” he said, trying to find the right words to explain being possessed by a ghost who refused to lay down and die, “then things started to make sense.  I could feel everything he felt; I knew what he was thinking; and before long I found I could access his memories.  Then I knew everything… about Lani… and about you.”

 

“I tried to resist him,” Harry said, his emotional voice barely loud enough for Lee to hear, “but when he made good on his threat to the crew…”

 

“I know Admiral… I know,” Lee assured him, breathing out a tired groan.  “What about Maria?”

 

“She’s fine, Lee.  She witnessed Krueger’s ghostly form first-hand, she knows it wasn’t you.  She was here for a while, even visited you before asking to return to the island.  I think she prefers to forget the whole thing.”

 

“I don’t blame her,” Lee replied sadly, still over-taken by his own regret at not being able to stop the assault of his own hands.

 

“Lee,” Harry said regretfully, “I nearly shot you again,” he confessed, his remorse piercing through his deep blue eyes.

 

Lee swallowed, and Harry wondered if this last confession would seal the betrayal as unforgivable in his best friend’s eyes.

 

“Admiral, do you know why Krueger left me in the graveyard?” he asked in what, at first, appeared to be a complete change of topic.

 

“To find Lani…” Harry started.

 

“Partly, but the real reason he fled was because he knew that if you were strong enough to pull the trigger the first time to save 124 men; then you’d be strong enough to pull it again to save Maria… and ultimately, set me free to die.  I would have gladly taken that bullet to save her, and to guarantee that Krueger could never use my body ever again.  You saved the crew, and you saved me… and I’m grateful beyond words,” he said, his voice cracking on the last few words.

 

Harry sighed deeply, his eyes lowering until he found the ability to speak again.  “Thank you, Lee, that means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

 

Lee nodded slightly, his eyes exuding his utmost confidence in Harry; demonstrating that the betrayal he felt in the Control Room had been countered completely by the knowledge he had gained from Krueger’s own mind.  It was the only silver lining to being able to read the vile man’s thoughts and memories.

 

“Skipper?” Jamie interrupted from across the deck, making sure not to come too close to invade the privacy the two men required, but feeling compelled to look after his patient’s needs, nonetheless.

 

Harry grinned mischievously, adding a little humor to dispel the heavy emotions just now.  “I think Jamie is pulling medical rank.”

 

“Aye,” Lee grinned back before sighing wearily.  “I’m so tired, Admiral.”

 

“You just rest,” Harry said, speaking as his best friend and not his superior officer then leaned closer as his countenance turned serious once again.  “It’s going to be all right, Lee… for both of us.”

 

“Aye Sir,” he agreed, as Harry stood, patted his shoulder and left Sickbay.  Lee took another deep breath in, the act immediately invoking a sharp pain in his side, but this time he welcomed it; because now the pain signaled that the healing had begun…

 

* * *

 

The spirit ceased its probe, leaving whatever further conversations the two men had to the privacy of Crane’s mind, but fell short of releasing Seaview’s Captain.  He hovered over Crane, with conflicting emotions.   Initially, he was pleased that Krueger had been denied his evil plan, and completely understood Crane’s contempt for the U-boat commander.  Through his voyeuristic probe, he had experienced Crane’s raw emotions and his fight for survival; just as he had experienced Krueger’s attempts to steal another’s life, to attempt to commit murder twice for his own contentment.  He could clearly understand Crane’s use of the words, “evil” and “vile” when describing Krueger.  But that realization was countered by a new sense of envy.  He could relate all too well to the idea of his life being stolen, only there hadn’t been anyone to save him.  Where Crane had been rescued by his best friend; he’d been betrayed.  Where Crane had survived; he had died. 

 

The air grew increasingly cold, and his foul mood manifested in his connection with Crane as the sleeping man tossed his head, trying desperately to wake.

 

“Haven’t I given enough?” he asked rhetorically.  “Don’t I deserve to live, too?” his spirit screamed; his broody outburst heard only by the unconscious man lying under the haze.  Then suddenly Crane groaned; his face tightening and his head tossing in obvious pain.  The spirit ceased his rampage, realizing immediately that he was the source of Crane’s physical discomfort… his pain.  He hovered for just a moment watching Crane breathe heavily, and chastised himself that he had lashed out, taking out his own pain and frustration on another human being.

 

He withdrew with the question of Morton still unsettled, however; his envy for life now heavily competing with the morals Hulbert Krause once held dear.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee woke feeling so uncomfortable that he didn’t even notice the ice-cold chill in the room; his head ached and his insides felt as if they were on fire.  He rolled to his side and cradled his stomach, waiting for the ailment to pass.  It was a few uncomfortable moments later before he felt relief, the pain releasing once his adrenaline subsided.  He considered getting up to take aspirin, but found he was too weary to move and fell back to sleep still cradling his stomach.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

“Come in, Lee,” Harry called, laying the journal down on his desk as the dark-haired captain rounded the door.

 

“FS1 is being readied for launch now, Sir,” he reported.

 

“Good,” Harry replied, as Lee bypassed the edge of his desk and opted for the guest chair on the opposite side of the desk.

 

“Did you find out anything useful?” Lee asked with a nod toward the journal.

 

“Not exactly useful; but very insightful,” the Admiral clarified, as Lee leaned over curiously.  “Hulbert Krause was a brilliant scientist.  Unfortunately, his brilliance was recognized by the powers that be, and as was the case for many scientists in Germany, was pressed into the war effort.  But he wasn’t sold on the politics of Hitler, nor was he so drunk with ambition to use the new-found funding he received to further his hypothesis regarding antihydrogen.  However, he was a realist, and as such realized that the only way to protect his family was to appear to advance the research he was heading.  He was surrounded by brilliant men, and had to maintain certain advancements while not tipping his hand that he was holding back.  He described the ruse as a dangerous tightrope he was walking, with the Nazis on one side, the family he was protecting on the other, and a precipice of unimaginable consequence under him.”

 

“So, you were right.  He was purposely derailing the program,” Lee concluded.

 

“Yes, but not by sabotage; he purposely withheld information that would have solved their current setbacks.” 

 

“I’m not sure keeping a journal was the wisest thing to do, especially when his work was being overseen by the Nazis,” Lee added.

 

“Perhaps, but most of his journal actually addresses his beloved wife, Luisa, as if he were writing a letter to her.  What I gleaned was very cleverly dropped amongst what appeared to be a dialog from a man who missed his wife and family.”  Harry shook his head sympathetically.  “I believe he was holding so much information inside, that he just felt he needed an outlet of some kind.”

 

“But we found the journal with the other manuals; it just seems like it wasn’t well hidden for such sensitive information, however cleverly embedded in the writings.”

 

“He indicated that he always kept the journal on his person.  I can only guess that as the end drew near, he had to ditch the journal quickly; at any rate, it’s not discussed in the journal,” Harry explained. 

 

“Was there anything else of use?” Lee asked, sitting back and unconsciously letting his weariness show.

 

“Only that he noticed a change in his Nazi overseers.”

 

“In what way?”

 

“His writings are dated at the very close of the war…”

 

“And when Berlin recalled the project, they made sure to tie up the loose ends,” Lee interjected, finishing Harry’s next words.

 

“Yes, the four scientists were considered expendable.”

 

Lee leaned forward.  “You said four scientists?”

 

“Yes, Hulbert Krause and three other men from his team.  Why?”

 

“We only found the remains of three men.”

 

Harry blew a breath and sat back, pursing his lips in thought.  “I imagine one of them was spared to continue the work at a later date.”

 

“Then perhaps Krause survived, after all he was the lead scientists,” Lee postulated. 

 

“I doubt it.  His journal indicates that he was increasingly concerned with one of the four scientists on his team; it appears that Dr. Richter was challenging him more and more.  Dr. Krause noted more than once, that he felt Richter’s ambition was dangerous.”

 

Lee sighed, recognizing the possibility of betrayal, though all of it was conjecture at this point, before moving onto the most pressing question.  “Did the journal verify that they were working on a particle accelerator?”

 

“Not directly, but I believe that’s exactly what we’re going to find there this morning.”

 

Lee nodded and stood.  The time for conjectures was coming to a close; what they really needed now was answers.  “I’ll check on the FS1; we should be able to leave whenever you’re ready.”

 

“Very well, Lee.  I’ll be right down,” he said, watching as Lee left and noticing that he was looking as run-down as ever.  Still, there was no reason to sideline the Captain, and their investigation was too important at this point.  Besides, he’d seen Lee Crane operate under more compromising physical conditions than this little bug was producing, and thought nothing more of it, picking up the journal and stowing it away in the side drawer of his desk.  He had just a few more notes to make on the pad in front of him, and then he’d grab his flight jacket and head down to meet Lee at the flying sub.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee exited Harry’s cabin and took several steps toward the spiral staircase when he was hailed over the com system.

 

“Captain Crane, this is Jamieson.”

 

He walked past the staircase to the nearest mic and reached for it, clicking the mic active.

 

“This is Crane, go ahead Doc.”

 

“Captain, would you please come to Sickbay?  There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

 

“How important is it Jamie, can it wait?”

 

“No Sir, I believe it’s something we need to discuss now.”

 

“I’ll be right there,” he said, shipping the mic and heading to the aft staircase.

 

* * * * *

 

“What is it, Jamie?” Lee asked, entering Sickbay and finding Seaview’s doctor sitting at his desk studying a medical file in front of him.

 

“Skipper, I’m very concerned about one of our officer’s health.”

 

“Go on,” he urged, concerned about the officer, but anxious to get to the bottom of the mystery of the hidden installation as well, knowing that the repercussions of the project had the potential to affect the entire earth.

 

“He’s showing signs of exhaustion; so much so that a fellow officer felt duty-bound to report the fact to me.”

 

Lee’s eyes narrowed.  “I thought Chip was looking much better,” he countered, somewhat concerned that a junior officer had come to the doctor instead of speaking with him first.

 

“It’s not Chip… it’s you Captain.”

 

“Me?” Lee replied, surprised even though he knew he was running a little under the weather; still, nothing so bad as to warrant a junior officer going behind his back to report straight to the CMO.

 

“Easy Skipper; by the looks of you I can see you’re fatigued…”

 

“Jamie, I don’t have time for this,” Lee interjected as Seaview’s doctor raised a quelling hand.

 

“Fatigued, but not to the point that was suggested to me earlier,” he admitted.  “Still, would you mind submitting to a few…”

 

“To what end?  I’m boiling mad, Jamie!  You’re going find both my blood pressure and heart rate elevated.  Yes, I probably picked up Chip’s bug, but I’m tired, not exhausted, and even if I was,” he continued, the intensity of his words clearly heard in his elevated voice level, “I couldn’t and wouldn’t be medically sidelined at this point.”

 

“It’s my responsibility to ensure the fitness of every officer on board this vessel…”

 

“Not when we’re about to crack the mystery of something bigger than me, this boat, or even national security,” Lee added passionately, alluding to the potential importance of the installation, without cluing the doctor in specifically.  “Frankly, Jamie,” he said intentionally bringing his heated emotions down a notch, “I’m much more concerned with which officer bucked the chain of command by coming to you directly, instead of me, or the Exec.”

 

Jamie lowered his gaze a moment and sighed; he was a doctor, but he was an officer as well.  The fact was, an officer circumventing the chain of command was highly unusual aboard Seaview, and could even be considered mutinous when making such assertions about the captain of the vessel. 

 

“It was Chip Morton,” Jamie answered, knowing that there was no doctor/patient protocol preventing him from answering the direct question of his superior officer.

 

“Chip?” Lee questioned; his eyes boring incredulously into Jamie’s.

 

“Aye Sir, and like you, I was surprised; but he said that he’d talked to you about it and that you’d just blew him off…”

 

“I assure you, Jamie,” Lee said, taking a step closer and very concerned with this unexpected revelation, “that he and I had no such conversation.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Jamie offered, standing to make his apologies, “but it was so unusual that I felt I had to follow through.”

 

Lee raised a hand to stave off any further apologies.  “I’m not concerned with that right now,” he said, expelling a breath and biting the inside of his lip, a move he made unconsciously when in deep thought.  “How did Chip seem when he came to you?”

 

“Nervous, but I thought it was because of the nature of the visit,” Jamie answered, slightly confused by the question.  “May I ask why, Skipper?”

 

Lee took a few steps in a small pace and then turned back toward Jamie.  “Because someone sabotaged the Inertial Navigator to ensure that we investigated this island,” he started, noticing Jamie’s brow furl instantly at the direction Lee was obviously heading.  “Not just anyone on board could have done it; the Admiral, myself, Chief Sharkey, and… Chip Morton.  There are a few crewmen who might be able to make the adjustment, or some who might be able to handle the navigation issues, but none that I know of who could have handled both,” he finished expelling a breath, and then looking Jamie squarely in the eye.  “So, I need to know if there was anything unusual about his demeanor during the visit.”

 

Jamie shook his head, mentally recalling the uncomfortable visit, but coming up empty.  “No Sir, just nervous as I said, except…”

 

Lee’s brow tightened at the last word as Jamie paused before continuing.

 

“He used a word that I wasn’t familiar with, I think it was German.”

 

“What word?” Lee asked, clearly interested.

 

“Ummmm… free…height?” he answered unsure and trying to recollect the word.

 

“Freiheit?” Lee repeated with a perfect German accent.

 

“Yes,” Jamie replied, recognizing the word once again, especially correctly accented.  “Is it important?”

 

Lee ran a worried hand through his dark hair and nodded.  “I think so, though I can’t tell you what it means just yet,” he answered trying to figure out what the German word “freedom” had to do with anything right now.  He was about to wrap up the conversation so he could deal with the issue at hand, when he felt a slight shudder under his feet.  Instantly, he moved to the mic, snagging it up with renewed intensity.

 

“Control Room, this is the Captain.  Who just launched the flying sub?”

 

“The Exec, Sir,” O’Brien answered.

 

“Who else is with him?” he asked, wondering if Harry was along for the ride as well.

 

“No one, Sir, he left alone.”

 

“Have Sparks raise him and order him to return at once,” he ordered then shipped the mic, before turning and heading straight for the door.  “I guess we’ve got our answer, Jamie,” he said, opening the door and stepping through, without waiting for a response from Seaview’s bewildered doctor.

 

* * * * *

 

Lee ran all the way to the Control Room, entering just as Harry descended down the spiral staircase.

 

“What’s going on, Lee?” the Admiral asked, having felt the launch and Lee’s order over the com.

 

Lee picked up the mic, purposely putting off Harry’s question for the moment.

 

“Sparks, have you contacted the flying sub?”

 

“No Sir, he’s receiving, but not responding.”

 

“Very well, keep trying,” he said, shipping the mic and turning toward the Admiral, who didn’t appreciate being put off for any length of time.  “I think we found our saboteur,” he replied now answering Harry’s question and guiding him into the Nose to keep from making the accusation in front of the entire Control Room.

 

“What are you talking about?  Who?”

 

“I’ll explain in a minute,” he said, turning toward Sonar.  “Kowalski, do you have a fix on FS1?”

 

“Aye Sir, he’s heading straight for the island, nearly there,” he added.

 

“Very well, what does the pack ice look like up there?”

 

“Still clear, Sir,” Ski reported.

 

“Very well.  Mr. O’Brien, blow ballast and take us to the top; and tell Chief Sharkey I want a raft ready to deploy as soon as possible,” he said, finally turning his attention back to Harry.

 

“Do you mind filling me in, Captain?” Harry asked sourly.

 

“Chip just tried to sideline me by going to the CMO and questioning my physical fitness.”

 

“What?”

 

“He had Jamie convinced that I was exhausted, and even told him that he had already discussed it with me.  Now, you and I both know that the adjustment made to the Inertial Navigator could have only been done by a select few aboard Seaview.”

 

“I realized that,” Harry agreed.

 

“During the conversation with Jamie, he used a German word; freiheit.”

 

“Freedom,” Harry interpreted.

 

“What I haven’t told you, or anybody else,” Lee continued, “is that I’ve been plagued for the last few nights with detailed, play-by-play dreams about Krueger.  I don’t know what it all means, or if it’s even related, but I can tell you for a fact, that Chip doesn’t speak German.”

 

“All right, Lee,” Harry said, convinced by not only Chip’s unauthorized launch of FS1, but the other evidence as well, that something was definitely wrong with Seaview’s Exec.  “Let’s arm ourselves and get to the installation.”

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

The spirit of Hulbert Krause marveled at the wonder of the flying sub as he piloted the craft, utilizing the accessed memories of Chip Morton.  Nelson’s Seaview was fantastic with its deep dive capabilities and her windowed bow; but to create a submersible that could actually fly was the epitome of brilliance that few men could ever hope to achieve, if they had lived several lifetimes. He grasped the control sticks in preparation to land and circled, choosing the same landing spot Crane had utilized the day before.  The flying sub handled beautifully under his skilled hands, as he set the craft down easily on the snow-covered tundra.  Even with the thrill of commanding the amazing flying submersible, he found himself more impressed with the human vessel that he now possessed.  The blood pumping through his veins and the oxygen he breathed into his lungs signaled new life into a soul that had subsisted in a barren existence far too long.  He readily admitted to staring for several long minutes into the mirror after taking Morton’s form.  It had been so very long since he had cast a reflection on any mirror, and the thought captivated him.

 

He completed the shutdown, silencing the insistent calls that he’d been ignoring from Seaview’s radio operator, and unharnessed.  Every move he made continued to amaze and fascinate him as he happily abandoned the misty haze of his former existence.  He opened the side cargo hatch and gasped at the frigid temperatures that assailed him.  It was exhilarating to feel the cold weather that he had earlier passed through without any notice as a spirit.  He reveled in the feeling for a moment, before picking up the box he had secured from Seaview.  He breathed in the cold air and marveled at the difference between the elements of the arctic and the icy coldness of death.  He was still wearing the leather flight jacket, opting to leave the heavy cold-weather jacket hanging on the rack, and was anxious to make his preparations for Crane and Nelson’s arrival.  He secured the hatch with the habit of Morton’s experience completely at his disposal, and made his way across the frozen land carrying the box, while cold puffs of condensed air gloriously declared the life he now possessed. 

 

He arrived at the installation, finding the lock had already been disposed of thanks to Crane and his men, so he reached for the handle and immediately withdrew his hand at the sting of the ice-cold metal on his bare fingertips.  Even this brought a smile that lit up his vibrant blue eyes, as he braved the freezer burn he received, opening the door and entering inside.  He only took one step down before the sensors registered his body heat and descended down the fully lit stairway, chuckling to himself for all the times his misty presence had passed those sensors without so much as a flicker of light to acknowledge his icy cold presence.

 

He was met, however, with conflicting emotions as he stepped inside the actual installation.  His elation to move about as a human took an instant backseat to the reality of all that had happened in this prison.  It had truly been a prison even before he took on the role as Guardian.  Tears began to pool in his eyes, as the human form he now possessed processed the knowledge of the lives taken here; all sacrificed for some insane and evil dictator’s whim.  So much could have been done if only he had been given the opportunity to research during another time.  Tears fell openly as he sat the box down and walked along the control panel, as the pain of his former self relived the tragedy that had occurred here.  He was glad that Morton wasn’t conscious of the possession; he had at least spared the officer that much.

 

Hulbert Krause wiped his eyes and sniffed back his grief.  He turned toward the control panel he helped to develop and started making purposeful adjustments as indicator lights illuminated their wakefulness.  Satisfied with the equipment’s operation, he reached for a nondescript switch and toggled it, then turned to watch a wall panel swivel to one side, revealing a large secret room.

 

Now all he had to do was wait for Nelson and Crane.

 

* * * * * 

 

Harry and Lee braved the frigid boat ride nearly a half-mile from the island, as Chief Sharkey guided the motorized rubber zodiac raft toward the frozen shoreline, dodging slow moving drifting ice along the way.  It was a cold ride, despite being completely geared in cold weather attire, as the thirteen-degree temperatures combined forces with the wind chill their boat ride produced to create white ice along their fur-lined hoods. 

 

They reached the shore and staked the raft to secure it, then headed promptly towards the mound where they expected to find the flying sub as well.  They trekked along for about a mile before spotting the mound about a quarter-mile further ahead.  As they worked themselves around the terrain, they spotted FS1, its bright yellow hull a stark contrast to the white snow under it.

 

“Secure FS1, Chief.  You will disregard all orders from Mr. Morton until I say otherwise, is that clear?”

 

“Aye, Sir,” Sharkey replied, figuring something was up with the Exec’s unauthorized use of the flying sub, but not having been briefed with any further details.

 

Lee guided Harry toward the installation door, stopping first to pull his laser pistol from his hip holster before opening the door.  As before, the lights illuminated their path downwards.  He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs carefully, unsure of the welcome they would receive and fully believing that Chip Morton was compromised in some way.  Neither he nor Harry could venture a guess whether a double had been switched with Seaview’s Exec, or perhaps the blond officer had been brainwashed, or whether some other kind of coercion was guiding his actions; but with the stakes at hand, they couldn’t allow sentiments to cloud either their judgement or their actions.

 

Harry and Lee swept their laser pistols across the receiving room, carefully making their way toward the doorway leading to the main control room.  The barracks and galley were off to their sides, but the hum of equipment operating guided them onward.  They entered to find the control panels alive with lights, much to their great concern.

 

They found no one here and moved toward the lab, having no knowledge of the adjacent hidden room since the secret wall panel was now closed.  The lab was empty, as Lee moved toward the closet where the remains of the scientists lay and opened it carefully, to make sure no one had chosen to hide there.  It was exactly as he left it, with the skeletal remains still covered with the blanket, so he closed the door.

 

“I’ll check out the other rooms,” Lee said, speaking for the first time since entering the installation.

 

“Go ahead; I’m going to look around here,” Harry replied, perusing the lab and looking for clues to substantiate his theory of the installation’s purpose.  He methodically moved about the lab, and after a few moments determined that there was nothing to glean.  Between what the Nazis had cleared out, and the manuals Lee had already removed, there seemed to be no further clue to the installation’s purpose.

 

He exited the lab just as Lee returned to the main control room, lowering his laser pistol as he entered.

 

“There’s nobody here,” Lee announced.

 

“I’m sure there is,” Harry disagreed with a nod toward the live control board.  “I’m willing to bet that that secret room we talked about is the answer.”

 

He had no sooner finished his statement when a familiar voice was heard behind them.

 

“You are so right, Admiral Nelson.”

 

Both Lee and Harry spun on their heels to find Chip Morton standing in front of the now opened wall panel, training an MP40 submachine gun on the pair.

 

“Drop your guns,” he demanded.

 

Lee and Harry both sized up their situation and deemed themselves at a serious disadvantage, lowering their laser pistols and then bending down to lay them carefully on the floor. 

 

“Chip…” Lee started, but was cutoff midsentence. 

 

“Now that holsters,” he ordered, holding the submachine gun expertly in his hands.

 

Harry and Lee complied, unbuckling their olive-green belts and dropping them beside the laser pistols at their feet.

 

“Now, hands up.”

 

“Are you going to tell us what this is all about, Chip?” Harry said pausing a moment before continuing, “Or should I say Dr. Krause?” 

 

Lee’s brow tightened at Harry’s remark as an unfamiliar smile spread over Chip’s face.

 

“Very good, Admiral Nelson,” Chip said, speaking with a heavy accent.  “I am as you supposed; the spirit of Hulbert Krause.”

 

“And Chip?” Lee asked, his face offering a mixture of disdain for the ghost currently possessing Chip’s body and concern for his best friend.

 

“Chip Morton is safe, and unaware of my presence,” he assured Lee.

 

“You went to a lot of trouble to get us here,” Harry said.  “May I ask why?”

 

“As you’ve guessed, I am the source of the disturbances; the pings, the quakes, and the increased activity in the auroras borealis.”

 

“But you didn’t want just anyone here,” Lee interjected.  “You wanted Admiral Nelson,” he asserted.

 

Krause held the submachine gun steady and nodded his answer.  “I will get to what I want from you soon, Admiral Nelson; but first, I will tell you a story,” he continued, his accent still prevalent as Hulbert Krause spoke through Chip Morton’s body without further attempt to conceal his identity.  “Most of what you have deduced is correct, Admiral Nelson.  My work with hydrogen was largely theoretical; I was working on producing heavy water when I discovered antihydrogen.  I saw it as a great discovery and wanted to develop it as a fuel that I hoped would one day propel man to the stars, but the Fatherland wasn’t interested in this venture, only what was important to the war effort.  I was pressed to find a tactical use for antihydrogen.  Unfortunately, one of my associates was all too aware of my research and I was forced to begin the development of the weapon dubbed, ‘Heavy Hammer’.  Yes, I can see by your faces that you believe that I caved to their wishes, even when I knew that the Third Reich was as evil as its diabolical leader.  But it was made perfectly clear to me that my family would suffer if I did not participate.  This was in the early days of the war, and while I and my associates worked on the project, the base was being built here on this island.” 

 

Krause stopped to consider his next words, hanging his head only slightly and then re-aiming the submachine gun to keep his audience in place.  His command over Chip Morton’s body was all too familiar to Lee, and he was having difficulties feeling the least bit sorry for the scientist who was painting himself to be a victim, all the while possessing his best friend’s body.

 

“Just what exactly is Heavy Hammer,” Harry interjected.

 

“Exactly what you perceived.  You call it a laser today, we called it a Death Beam, and yes; it was capable of reaching other continents.  From this location, it would have eliminated the Russian front and after that the United States.  With these victories, the Allies would have succumbed to the military might of the Third Reich.”

 

“So, you worked from the inside to keep your project from reaching its potential,” Harry stated.

 

“Yes, but it was a difficult process.  One of my associates suspected that I was holding back; thus, I had to ensure that certain progress was made.  Apparently, he was in collusion with the Nazis far more than we originally realized.  I knew Richter was an ambitious man, but I didn’t know the depths that he would go to claim my work.  As the days of the war drew to an end, it was apparent that our work would not be operational in time to save the war effort.  He convinced the Nazis that he could return and carry on the work at a later date, once the Party had reorganized; and so, I and my two remaining associates were murdered.  Those are the three bodies you found Captain Crane, my bones lie in that closet alongside the two other brave men who helped to ensure the failure of Heavy Hammer.  Richter, for all his treachery, never made it to the Homeland.  The submarine he was traveling in was sunk by the Allies on their return trip.  Most of this, you supposed correctly, Admiral Nelson.  It is the rest of my story that I wish for you to know.”

 

The entire time that Krause spoke, he hadn’t moved from his place in front of the secret room.  Though steps could be seen leading down, neither Lee nor Harry could see what was inside.

 

“I chose a very dangerous path to protect humanity… to protect my family; but in the end it wasn’t enough.  The work in this installation still has the power to either take men to the stars, or to destroy and annihilate humanity.  Upon my death, I was offered the choice of answering the Call to eternal rest, or to stay as Guardian of this place.  To say that I chose to stay to protect humanity from the power hidden inside this installation would not be the entire truth.  I stayed so that my wife and children could live a full, safe life after the war.  I accepted the prison for them,” he finished, as tears pooled in the blue eyes of Chip Morton and then slid down his cheek, before Krause composed himself and continued.  “The natives know me as the Shadow Spirit; I have kept my part of the bargain by discouraging curious adventurers from finding the installation.  I was prepared to continue till the end of time…”

 

“What changed?” Harry asked, concerned with what appeared to be a shift in Krause’ resolve, and like Lee, he was concerned with where the conversation was now going.

 

“When I became Guardian, I did so wholly and completely.  As a spirit, I could have visited Luisa and my children, but I did not.  I wanted her to have a full life, and I fully expected my beautiful wife to find love again… I didn’t expect nor did I want her to be alone like I was… I wouldn’t wish that loneliness on anyone.  But a year ago everything changed…” his hands flexed on the submachine gun as he swallowed and found his voice again.  “Luisa did live a full life, but she waited for me,” he said with rich emotions threatening to cloud his eyes with the heavy tears forming there.  “She didn’t marry again, and when she passed, she called to me.  She is on the other side, waiting for me now.  I… found myself tempted to leave this place with the secrets unguarded, but I could not; not until I ensured that its secrets were safe.  I will show you what’s inside,” he said, using his gun to motion the two men toward the secret room.

 

Lee and Harry moved carefully toward the room with their hands still raised; for all the emotions and heart-felt sentiments spoken through the form of Chip Morton, Krause had still made it clear that he was in control, wielding the deadly weapon menacingly in the direction he wanted them to go.  Upon taking three steps down they now found themselves in a rather large room.  On one side sat a lab table and shelves with more manuals; much more detailed, Harry suspected.  On the other side of the room sat a four-foot-fong, sleek cylindrical machine.

 

“You have a particle accelerator,” Harry stated more than asked.

 

“I have thought long and hard about this,” Krause continued as he nodded slowly, “about how I would protect mankind from the potential of this dangerous weapon, and yet did I have a right to keep mankind from finding its way to the stars?  You have read the manuals,” he said to Harry.  “And you know that both are possible.”

 

“Yes,” Harry admitted, “but the subject of antimatter is being studied right now, even as we speak.  It’s in its infancy, but sooner or later the power of antihydrogen will be explored.”

 

“I am aware of that, but I cannot risk the technology in this installation influencing the current research, I will not be responsible for someone else resurrecting Heavy Hammer.”

 

Lee’s eyes scanned the room, spotting a box filled with what appeared to be the manuals they had brought to Seaview, but finding nothing to aid their predicament.  His attention returned to Krause and the gun he was holding.

 

“Why did you bring the Admiral here?” he asked point blank.

 

“Because, I knew that he was capable of understanding the science and therefore, the dangers of my research.  And just as importantly, because I trust him.  Seaview is testament to the power Admiral Nelson possesses, and yet uses his creation to benefit mankind.  I brought him here to destroy this installation and protect the world from a weapon that requires only a few minor adjustments to be fully operational,” he stated firmly, but then his countenance changed.   He bit his bottom lip, something Chip himself did when contemplating, and continued.  “When I began preparations to bring you here, that is all I wanted; to answer the Call and move on, until…”

 

His pause sent a shiver up Lee’s back as he felt the other shoe drop.  Here the spirit of Hulbert Krause stood, draped in a body that wasn’t his.  Memories of another ghost immediately came to mind, as Lee began putting the pieces together.

 

“Until you felt warm blood flowing through your veins again,” Lee finished; his disdain clear in both his voice and his eyes as he recited the very words that Krueger had used to defend his abhorrent actions.

 

“Yes,” Krause admitted.  “You cannot know what it was like to exist… with no life, or hope of life.  I was warned not to associate with the living in any way, and I didn’t… not even to visit my wife and children.  But my plan to bring Admiral Nelson here required more than strange pings to frighten away sea life, I had to make sure that you investigated the island.”

 

“So, you possessed Chip Morton’s body to make the changes to the Inertial Navigator,” Harry purported.

 

“Yes, and more than that.  I… tested all three of you to determine the best vessel,” he said sheepishly vague, before straightening his shoulders and finding his resolve to continue.  “But I wasn’t strong enough; I continued to probe many aboard your vessel, for no other reason than to feel the warmth again.”

 

“Morton’s ailment and Crane’s fatigue…?” Harry questioned.

 

“A direct result of multiple probes.  I won’t hide behind vague words any longer, I will say it as it is,” he said.  “I intruded upon your memories to feel life again vicariously; especially yours Captain Crane,” he admitted.

 

Lee eyes tightened, realizing that the dreams he had concerning Krueger were part of this somehow.   His resentment for the intrusion began to boil to the surface, but he was still faced with a submachine gun pointed squarely at them.

 

“Why are you telling us this?”  Harry asked, quite aware of Lee’s tension and anger rising beside him.

 

“Because, you were everything I thought you would be Admiral Nelson.  You deduced correctly on nearly everything, so I couldn’t allow you to believe that I was such a gallant soul, for I truly failed as a spirit of the man Hulbert Krause once was.  I couldn’t resist the opportunity to live again.  I couldn’t take your form, Captain.  I didn’t want the reminders of Krueger to accuse me; so, I chose Morton.  This,” he said, sweeping his arms slightly away from him to indicate the living body he now possessed, “is my greatest temptation; this body… this life… even now I fight it… even with Luisa waiting on the other side,” he finished incredulously.

 

“Then why tell us?  Surely, you know that we will do everything possible to keep you from stealing Morton’s life,” Harry returned passionately.

 

“That is exactly why I told you.  Captain Crane, I apologize for my intrusion, because I know your hidden pain firsthand.  I experienced the totality of your ordeal with Krueger by forcing you to relive your memories while you slept.  Please take consolation in knowing that while I had no good intentions for doing so, that I found my way back because of what I learned through your experience.  I share your opinion of Krueger; I agree he was cruel, vile, and evil.  I placed myself much above his actions, until I realized that I was capable of the same deed.  I was weak, and I confess now that I almost stole Morton’s life in such a way, that you would have likely never have known.  I was tempted beyond what I ever thought possible,” he admitted before lowering the submachine gun and immediately withdrawing from Chip’s body; his confession now made and having ensured Nelson and Crane had heard all he wanted to say. 

 

Chip fell instantly to the floor as the green mist swirled toward the particle accelerator and reformed into a transparent ghostly rendition of Hulbert Krause in his human form of forty-two years old, wearing black pants with a white dress shirt and a thin black tie, all covered by a white lab jacket, with black rimmed glasses and pens in his breast pocket.

 

Lee moved quickly to Chip’s side as the blond breathed heavily and blinked, trying to make sense of his current weakened state and the unfamiliar surroundings.

 

“Admiral Nelson, I implore you to destroy the weapon and to seal the installation; I have already retrieved the manuals you took,” the ghost informed with a transparent hand motioning toward the box he had brought from Seaview.  “Once that is done, I will answer the Call and join my wife on the other side.  I will not make her wait any longer.”

 

Lee helped Chip to his feet; he was still visibly weak and shaken and leaning heavily upon him for support. 

 

“I ask your forgiveness,” he said addressing Chip, who was still very much in the dark about the events he had missed out on, but rapidly starting to put the pieces together with the transparent ghost standing in front of him.

 

Lee swallowed hard; pushing back the disdain and hatred he had exhibited only moments ago to address Krause’s ghostly form.  “I’m… still trying to process all of this, and I can’t say that I’m not still battling anger for what you did, but if learning about Krueger influenced your decision to free Chip, then I’m grateful that something good came out of that mess,” he said, still holding Chip steady and relieved that his friend had been spared. 

 

The countenance on Hulbert Krause’s ghostly face registered the graciousness of the captain and nodded.  “Thank you, Captain Crane.”

 

“I’ll destroy the particle accelerator and your notes, as you’ve requested,” Harry interjected, “but you must know that I can’t destroy the island,” Harry informed, well-aware that this island was too close to Canadian territory to do a repeat of Mulayu by firing missiles. 

 

“Destroy the weapon and seal the installation is all that I ask,” the ghost replied.

 

“And you’re aware that sooner or later, the science of antihydrogen will be fully explored?” Harry continued.

 

“I understand.  It’s my hope that mankind will be ready to make the right decision at that time,” he said, and began to fade away before Harry spoke up.

 

“Dr. Krause…”

 

The ghost reversed its fade, returning to its earlier transparent form at Harry’s call.

 

“I know a little something about Krueger as well,” Harry started cryptically.  “And I have a few choice words for him myself.  He was sadistic and selfish, caring little for anyone else, including Lani.  Oh, I know he loved her, as much as that evil man could love anyone, but he was content to make her wait over sixty years to cross, just to satisfy his own desires.  You were tempted to do the same; you’re ashamed, and rightly so.  But I wonder if you remember a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson?”

 

Krause shook his head.  “Emerson?” he questioned, though he knew the works of the American poet and thinker, he had no idea what Nelson was getting at.

 

“We gain the strength of the temptation we resist,” Harry quoted.  “I, for one, am grateful for what you did during your lifetime to protect this weapon from Nazi use, and that you were strong enough to walk away from your greatest temptation today.”

 

Lee nodded in agreement, not losing sight of the fact that Krause had literally given his life to keep Heavy Hammer out of the hands of the Nazis.  Furthermore, he had devoted over forty years as a spirit to keep the secrets of the installation safe; all the while giving up the prestige his research would have surely afforded his memory by ensuring that his research notes be destroyed as well.  He didn’t consider Krause in the same category as Krueger, despite his unwanted invasions into his mind. 

 

Krause nodded, hearing Luisa’s call even stronger now.  “Thank you.  I am at peace,” he declared and faded away.

 

Lee blew a breath out as Harry shook his head at the heavy emotions the encounter had elicited.  Their silence was broken as Chip cleared his throat, still leaning heavily on Lee.

 

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?” he asked confused and exasperated.

 

“We’ll explain later,” Harry promised.  “Lee, let’s get Chip back to FS1 and grab some grenades from the arm’s locker.”

 

“Aye Sir.”

 

* * * * *

 

Lee tossed several yellow canister grenades into the secret room, careful to target the particle accelerator specifically and took cover against the adjacent wall.  The blast produced a shudder as the walls rattled and a light dusting of ceiling paint rained down on them. 

 

Harry coughed and peered around the open doorway then entered once the smoke began to clear.

 

“How does it look?” Lee asked, holding another grenade for use if another blast was needed.

 

“It’s completely destroyed,” Harry verified reentering the main control room.  He headed straight for the toggle switch Krause had used earlier, clued in by the disturbance of dust, and flipped the switch.  Immediately, the secret wall panel closed behind him, hiding the secrets of Dr. Krause’ antihydrogen research from future visitors.

 

“What about the control panel?” Lee asked.

 

Harry studied the large curved wall filled with gauges and switches, the work here decades ahead of the technology of Krause’ day, and made his decision; these controls had to be rendered useless as well.  He pulled the laser gun from his holster, prompting Lee to do the same.  Without words, both men let loose their lasers guns on the control panel, as sparks and electrical fires signaled its destruction.  They maintained their assault until the control board was a searing hot mangle of melted steel.

 

Lee lowered his laser gun and nodded toward the secret room.  “Was it really only a few adjustments away from working?” he asked curiously, still trying to wrap his brain around a laser so powerful it could reach another continent.

 

“Yes, from what I read, I don’t think it would have taken much,” Harry answered knowingly.

 

“What about their remains?” Lee asked, his respect for the dead men heightened even more so, after hearing the story of the three German scientists who secretly saved the world by derailing the project and denying Hitler his victory.

 

“They died to keep this secret; returning their bodies now would counter that sacrifice, should too many questions be asked,” Harry replied, realistically assessing the situation.  “This installation is now their grave, a testament to their sacrifice.  The world may not know what they did, but we do,” he finished solemnly.

 

Lee nodded in agreement, as the two gathered up all signs of their presence and left the destroyed control room.  The lights dimmed behind them as their heat sources were no longer read on the sensors.  They geared up, and Harry took the steps up to the mound.  Lee waited until the Admiral cleared the door and tossed a grenade into the receiving room, then ran up the stairs, barely clearing the exit before an explosion threw him off his feet.  He looked down into the stairwell to find that the room had collapsed and expelled a satisfied breath.  Harry and Lee took the final step to ensure the installation was sealed by using their laser guns one more time on the hidden doorway on the side of the mound.  It didn’t take much for the mound to cave in, leaving only the tundra covering what once was the entrance.

 

“That does it,” Harry announced.  “The land will reclaim the mound; let’s get back to FS1.”

 

Chapter 17

 

“I still can’t believe I adjusted the Inertial Navigator and didn’t even know it,” Chip said incredulously with his hands wrapped around a hot coffee mug. 

 

Seaview had continued her voyage, only two days from the arctic island.  Chip’s fatigue had been considerable and he hadn’t escaped Jamie’s hypo when they had returned.  He’d spent the night in Sickbay and was released to his cabin the next morning while Jamie imposed another day of rest on the Exec.  By the next evening, Lee figured Chip had had enough forced rest and had arranged for dinner in the Nose.  The meal dishes had been cleared away, and they were currently enjoying a cup of coffee; decompressing from their unusual encounter with the crash doors closed for privacy.

 

“Although, it does explain the dizzy spells I was having,” Chip added.  Lee’s raised eyebrow demanded further explanation, so he continued.  “I came to feeling disoriented several times.”

 

“And you have no memory at all of Krause’ activity?” Harry asked, careful to avoid the word ‘possession’.

 

“No, I guess I was fortunate in that regard.”

 

“It’s definitely a good thing,” Lee assured him, glad that his best friend hadn’t had to deal with a ghost’s malicious taunting, while fighting helplessly within a body that refused to obey him.

 

“The crew had already decided that the boat was haunted.  Sharkey told me he reported it to me, but Krause must have been in control then too,” Chip said, his voice fading a little lower in noticeable self-reflection.  Harry and Lee both gave him the time he needed before Chip took a deep breath and continued.  “I guess I’m struggling with how to feel; whether to be relieved the weapon was neutralized or angry at my loss of privacy.  This all started weeks ago, when I was home.”

 

“Both feelings are valid Chip,” Harry assured.  “I’ve been thinking a lot about this as well.  Krause put himself in the same category as Krueger, but I see a world of difference between the two.  Krause admitted to being tempted and though his morals were tested, he won out in the end.  From what I know of Krueger, he never struggled with the morality of what he was doing.”  Lee nodded silently in concurrence, having firsthand knowledge of that fact.  “Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall,” he said quoting Shakespeare.  “I don’t minimize one bit the intrusion into all of our lives; as Krause admitted he was weak while he explored the possessions, but the greater good of humanity was served when he brought Seaview here.  The self-sacrifice of he and his associates will never be known by the world, and yet if a lesser man had been in charge of the research, the world as we know it would be a much different place today,” he finished, making reference to the very real possibility that Heavy Hammer would have changed the course of the war, and subsequently the world.

 

Chip nodded.  “I’m coming to terms with that,” he said simply, dipping his head slightly.  “I’m just sorry that you had to bear the burden of Krause’ journey back to his morals,” he finished, raising his eyes to meet Lee’s.

 

Lee’s broody mood faded, as a sincere smile spread easily across his face.  “I’m not Chip.  The Admiral’s right.  Krause may have been tempted, and he knowingly forced me to relive the Krueger mess for his entertainment, but he came away with something that I will always appreciate and value; your right to live your own life.  I’m sincerely grateful he had those memories at his disposal in order to make the right decision.”

 

Lee’s sentiments invoked a smile that reached Chip’s blue eyes as he nodded back, with the emotions a little too heavy to reply at the moment.

 

“So, what do we tell the Canadian government?” Lee asked breaking his eye contact with Chip and, helping the emotional moment along with a very purposeful change of subject.

 

“That the mysterious pings have ceased,” Harry replied matter-of-factly.  “That’s why we’re continuing with our original plans to gather data in all the affected sectors.  By the time we’re through documenting the disappearance of the disturbances, they will likely come to the conclusion that whatever illegal activity was behind the pings, has ceased.”

 

“As if we closed in on someone, and they bugged out,” Lee added.

 

“Precisely,” Harry answered, sitting back satisfied with the plan.

 

“And the journal?” Lee asked.  While Dr. Krause had been able to retrieve the manuals from the lab, the journal had been in Harry’s possession at the time.

 

“As much as I would like to give Krause’ children closure, I must abide by his good sense and destroy the journal,” Harry said, reaching for the carafe and pouring himself another cup of coffee.

 

“Then, I guess it’s business as usual for the duration of the voyage,” Lee stated, more than asked, moving his coffee cup closer as Harry offered a fill up.

 

“I’m afraid so, we’re going to have to finish the job Dr. Krause started,” Harry replied, exchanging glances with both Lee and Chip.

 

“Well then,” Lee said, grabbing his full coffee cup and standing, “I guess I’d better check on our progress,” he announced before turning toward his First Officer.  “What about it, Chip?  Ready to take the Con?”

 

“Jamie hasn’t cleared me,” he answered dolefully.

 

Lee waggled his eyebrows and tilted his head toward the Control Room.  “The CMO says you’re cleared for action,” he informed.

 

Chip stood, the smile on his face testifying to his delight at not being sidelined any longer.  “Just when were you going to tell me?” he asked in mock annoyance.

 

“I just did,” Lee deadpanned, turning his back and carrying his coffee mug back to the Chart Table.

 

“No one has to tell me twice,” Chip muttered under his breath and quickly joined Lee at the table.

 

Harry sat back watching the banter between the two officers, not even attempting to hold back the amusement in his eyes or his hallmark thin smile, as Seaview continued her mission tracking pings, quakes, and auroras that had stopped as suddenly and mysteriously as they had begun; while the world went on never knowing the dangers that had been averted by the sacrifice of the three men buried under the mound on Shadow Spirit Island.

 

Epilogue

 

Early summer in the arctic brought temperatures of thirty-six degrees Fahrenheit to Shadow Spirit Island.  Over a year had passed since Nuniq had spotted the yellow flying machine circling the island.  He remembered that moment well; it was an unusual craft and had he watched television like his young grandchildren, he might have recognized the Flying Sub.  But television was never more than two fuzzy channels, and he had better things to do than watch a little box when there was work to do.  The Inuit Elder had visited Tarrak Tonraq Panuk many times in his lifetime.  He remembered well, hunting on this island with his father many years ago. 

 

Then the dark days came; soldiers from a land far away arrived.  They killed many seals for sport, and their weapons were far superior to their own guns and traditional weapons of the People.  The Elders were wise and it was agreed that all would stay away from the island until the soldiers left.  The island was theirs for over four years; then one night, the soldiers left and never returned. 

 

The hunters rejoiced that the land had been returned to them, but upon their arrival they discovered that the island had been claimed by a spirit.  He became known as Tarrak Tonraq, the Shadow Spirit, and they soon discovered that he didn’t want them there.  They would find their tools moved, their knots untied, their boats turned upside down; each eerie event warning them that the land now belonged to him.  One time, the spirit even manifested itself as a green mist, bringing the chill of death with him.  Nuniq had always found this to be curious, for the spirit wasn’t cruel or violent.  And so, the People agreed that the spirit was angry at what the soldiers had done on the island, though none could guess what that was; and subsequently, Tarrak Tonraq was viewed as the island’s protector.  No one challenged his right to protect the land; though from time to time, Nuniq would visit the island.  He didn’t wish to test the Shadow Spirit, but it was his practice to bring a remembrance to honor his grandfather who had died on this island.  He would announce his arrival and intentions, and the Shadow Spirit allowed him to visit the grave to leave his remembrance in peace.  Though he never saw the green mist, he would always feel the cold chill of death accompanying him to the grave, reminding him that the island belonged to him. 

 

Upon Nuniq’s arrival last year, only a month after he had spotted the strange yellow craft, he noticed a change.  Tarrak Tonraq’s cold aura of death did not appear as he presented the remembrance on his grandfather’s grave.  He returned to his boat, all the while wondering why the Shadow Spirit had failed to escort him as he had in years past. 

 

This year, he announced his arrival as he always did; but like the year before, Tarrak Tonraq did not manifest his icy cold presence.  Nuniq paid his respects to his grandfather and left his remembrance, but on the way back to the boat he noticed a curious sight; the return of aupaluktunnguat, the purple flower that had once graced this island in the days of his youth, had reappeared.  It had in fact, not bloomed on the island since the soldiers had arrived.  Curious, Nuniq walked toward a mound where the aupaluktunnguat’s bloom was the most concentrated.  The mound was covered in the purple flowers like a blanket of beauty adorning the land once again.

 

Emboldened by the sight, for surely it was a sign of something good, Nuniq called for the Shadow Spirit, and waited for his reply.  But the icy coldness of death did not manifest, and the wise Elder realized that peace had returned to this island.  Just what his assignment had been, or where the Shadow Spirit had gone, he did not know, but he ventured to guess that his work had been accepted as “good”; as surely the sign the bold purple flowers indicated.

 

“Qujannamiik!” Nuniq shouted to the land, his smile widened across the wrinkled face of the wise Elder.  “Qujannamiik, Tarrak Tonraq,” he shouted again with his arms raised victoriously upwards, thanking the Shadow Spirit for its protection of the island… and for returning the good land to the People’s use once again.

 

The End

 

The Temptation

 

 

Credits and Notes:

 

*Canadian Marine Biology Society – Fictional organization created for this story

 

**I have invoked historical fiction to fill in the blanks for motivation for this fictional storyline.  It is, however, a historical fact that Japan joined the war effort against the Central Powers, and as such was considered among the Allies in WWI.  Furthermore, Japan did seize control over Germany’s Pacific colonies.

 

***See Season 1, Episode 7, Turn Back the Clock

 

****I employed the resources of Wikipedia and Live Science to research the following areas, but it should be noted that Harry’s impressive knowledge regarding the Aurora Borealis was directly quoted from Wikipedia:  Auroras; Antimatter and Antihydrogen; Isotope separation; Heavy Water; German Nuclear Project; Particle Accelerator; Atomic bomb vs Hydrogen bomb

 

My story contains quotes, paraphrases, and retells events from the Second Season episode; The Phantom Returns, written by William Welch, directed by Sutton Roley, original airdate, March 20, 1966.

 

Historical Note: U-boat 444 was commissioned during WWII, and as such was not a WWI submarine, as fictionalized in the Phantom and Phantom Returns episodes.  It is normally my practice to use a fictional boat number, but I used Voyage cannon for this story and kept the designation for continuity sake.

 

Author’s Note:  This story was inspired by the real-life mystery of pings and beeps frightening away sea life in the arctic.  I trust the real-life answers to the mystery will be far less dramatic than that of my fictional story. : )  http://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/canada-cant-figure-out-why-ocean-floor-beeping-180961022/

 

 

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Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and her main characters belong to Irwin Allen

And the respective production companies