Chapter 4
Ship's Mess, 0630 hours
"Shut the hell up," Kowalski said to two crewmen in the mess hall.
"Make me," one said.
"Don't tempt me," Kowalski retorted. He breathed deeply to calm himself. "Another reprimand in your file will cost you a week's pay."
"This is a free country, Kowalski, and I'm not in the Navy anymore."
"You know the rules."
"If it was the Navy, we wouldn't have to put up with this shit. They'd never allow a fucking homo on a sub, let alone let one be in charge."
"What kind of moron are you, Anderson?"
"Don't tell me that you're defending pretty boy Crane even now?"
"The Captain isn't that way."
"He's how old and unmarried, a looker like him?"
"He's married to the Seaview, that's all. I don't want to hear another word about it, from either of you. I'll write up both of you if I hear another whisper."
"I'm getting off this butt fucking boat as soon as we hit the dock," Anderson said.
"Be my guest."
"Me too. At least I won't have to worry about them types checking me out all the time," Foster added.
"Foster, you'd be lucky if anyone checked you out," Kowalski jibed.
"Yeah, at least I'm not kissing a fag's ass all the time like you are."
"That's it. You're on report."
"You'll regret it, I promise you. You and the whole lot of them," Foster said.
Kowalski shook his head. "You want a write up too, Anderson?"
"No, but that don't mean I like it either." He stalked off.
Kowalski was left with a dozen other men in the room who stared at him silently. "Same goes for the rest of you. Mind your own business, do your jobs and keep your traps shut." He slammed out of the mess hall.
An hour later, when Kowalski was doing rounds of the boat for the Captain, Chief Sharkey pulled him aside.
"Heard about what happened at the mess this morning, 'Ski. What do you make of it?"
"There's nothing to make anything of. Rogers was being an asshole to this young college boy who's interning and the Captain moved him to the guest quarters. The rest of it is just stupid gossip."
"So you don't think there's any possibility that . . . you know?"
"Chief, you've been on this boat long enough to know that's nonsense."
"Look 'Ski, you know I think the world of the Captain, and he's saved our lives a dozen times over, but you gotta admit that it's not impossible."
"It is, I tell you."
"What if it isn't?"
"I don't want to know. Do you?"
"No, I suppose not."
"Then clam up and help make sure the crew does too."
Observation Deck, 1000 hrs.
Captain Crane stood with the Admiral and Dr. Livsey, gazing out the amazing observation window.
"Mr. Morton and I both agree, Admiral. We should steer clear of the site until we see whether the seismic activity subsides." Lee felt strangely giddy, his foot tapped happily on the floor.
"Dr. Livsey, maybe we could move the next sample site a bit," the Admiral suggested.
"Like a few hundred leagues," Captain Crane said as he spread his arms far apart and twirled.
"Captain Crane, what is the matter with you?"
"Nothing Admiral, nothing at all." He spun again. "In fact, I haven't felt this good in weeks."
"He's drunk!" Dr. Livsey said.
"No, I'm not. I'm just . . . floating . . . see . . . through a bed of seaweed. Look at that wild gar. Amazing. The colors . . . so bright . . . a rainbow. Somewhere over the rainbow," Lee broke out in song.
The Admiral pulled down the intercom handset. "Mr. Morton, please get Dr. Jamison and yourself in here on the double."
"Yes, Admiral." Chip relayed the order to Sparks and immediately entered the Observation Deck.
Lee Crane was licking the window.
"Mr. Morton, something is wrong with the Captain, seriously wrong."
"I can see that, Admiral."
"Has he been drinking on the job?"
"Lee? Never. You know he rarely drinks, and never on duty. He was fine half an hour ago."
"Well, he obviously isn't fine now."
Dr. Jamison came into the observation nose. "What . . . what's he doing?"
"Licking the window. Some tight ship you run, Admiral," Dr. Livsey carped.
"Captain, it's Dr. Jamison. What's going on?"
"Ridin' on a moonbeam with my baby tonight," Lee twirled again, before he got dizzy and fell. He rolled on to his back and began to draw circles in the air.
"Could he be drunk?" Dr. Jamison asked.
"No. He was fine a few minutes ago when he was in the control room, I swear," Chip Morton vouched.
"Any other possibilities then, Doc?" Admiral Nelson asked.
"I'd have to venture he's under the influence of a drug of some kind."
"Lee is reluctant to pop an aspirin, Doc," Chip Morton said.
"I didn't say how it happened. Obviously that may be a matter for inquiry. How should we take him out of here?"
"Maybe you could sedate him?" the Admiral asked.
"Not without any understanding of what's in his system."
"Then it's either to Sick Bay or up top and through to my quarters. What do you think, Mr. Morton?"
"I think the men have heard enough already that a little more won't matter."
"Come on Lee, it's off to Sick Bay then," Admiral Nelson said as he reached for one of Lee's arms.
"No," Lee pulled away. "I want to be free, free!" He broke for the staircase. He was half way up when he reached for a rung that only he could see instead of a real one. He fell to the floor nearly spread eagled. The Control Room crew gathered ready to give a hand.
"Stay back, everyone," Dr. Jamison instructed. "Captain, are you hurt anywhere?"
"I feel good, duh nuh nuh, I feel fine, so good, duh, duh, duh."
"Get up and show me how good you feel then," Doc said.
Lee rolled onto his back. "Wow, that's wild."
"Come on, Captain, get up for me."
"Can't. Spinning wheel in my head, wheeeeee."
"We're going to either have to wait this out or haul him out of here," Doc said.
"We better get some muscle in here for that. Call Kowalski," Morton ordered Sparks.
"Lee, it's Chip. Are you okay?"
"Never better, my man, never better."
"You do know that you're acting a little bit strange."
"Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wondring in the night, what were the chances, la la la la la."
"Jesus, Lee, do you have to sing every response?" Chip groaned.
"Sing, sing a song, sing out loud . . ."
"Maybe we should gag him," Chip suggested, "or record him for future embarrassment."
"Kowalski, help Morton get the Captain to Sick Bay on the double. Be careful. He took a fall; he could be hurt."
"Falling in love again . . ." Lee began until Morton pulled him up by the arm. "Oopsy, that's not so good," he announced, but no one knew what he meant by it.
"Damn, looks like his shoulder is bulging."
"I have an idea. Skipper, how'd you like to ride in my beautiful balloon?" Kowalski asked. "Mr. Morton, let's make a chair for him."
"Good idea," the Doc said, pushing Lee back gently into their carry hold as they got behind and under him.
"I'll check in soon, Doc. Sparks, tell Ryder that I want to see him in the Captain's cabin immediately. Dr. Livsey, if you don't mind, I'll be back soon. I need to investigate this."
"I would say so, Admiral. Conduct unbecoming an officer if I ever saw it."
Lee continued singing at the top of his lungs all the way to Sick Bay.
"Sit him up on the table, men. Better stay nearby so he doesn't fall.
"Any clue what's wrong with the Skipper, Doc?" Kowalski asked.
"In the modern vernacular, Kowalski, I would say he's tripping."
"He's high?"
"As a kite. Hallucinating too, I think."
"The Skipper would never take anything like that. How could it have happened?"
"I'm going to try to figure out what he's ingested. The how is up to you all to figure."
"Kowalski, if you think you've got this, I'd like to follow up on some things with the Admiral," Chip said.
"I can handle him."
"Hold up a minute, Mr. Morton. The Captain's shoulder is slightly dislocated. I'd like to have an extra body here when I pop it back in." The Doc positioned Kowalski behind the Captain, kept Morton to the right side and begin his manipulation.
"Aw man, red, bright red, fire. Fire? Fire? All hands on deck. Fire in the . . . the . . . where are we? Never mind. Fire's out."
The Doc nodded to Chip that he could leave. "Kowalski," he whispered, "I'm going to take a blood sample. I think it'd be best to keep him distracted if you don't mind."
'Ski nodded. "Hey Captain, what do you see here?" he asked, pointing to the ceiling.
"I see skies of blue and clouds of white, the bright blessed day, the sacred darkness of night, and I think to myself, I think to myself . . . think, can't think. Hey, no man. Stop. Why do you wanna hurt me?" Lee pulled off the table and moved to a corner of the room. He sank down to the floor.
"No one wants to hurt you Captain," Doc said. "We just want to help you."
"I'm fine."
"Crane Syndrome even now," Doc shook his head. "Yes, Captain, you're fine. Maybe a little too fine. Just relax. Stay there if you want."
"I want the colors to come back. There are no colors here."
"Sure there are, Skipper," Kowalski humored. "Look up there. See."
"Puppets are there. Where's my gun? Got to stop those puppets. They're taking over Seaview."
"No, Skipper, the puppets are gone. You got rid of them."
"There, it's Kruger. He wants me again. I have to get out of here." Lee broke for the door. Kowalski beat him to it.
"Settle down, Skipper. Kruger's gone, forever. Everything on Seaview is calm. Blue skies. Come on, lie down and look."
The Skipper responded to Kowalski's voice and got on the exam table. "Blue skies, smiling at me, blue skies da da da da . . . Hey, no fair, can't dance now."
"You can dance later, Captain," Doc responded. "For now, you'll be safer this way." Doc applied restraints to the Captain's arms and legs. When he tried to go across the torso, the Captain bucked in protest. Kowalski shook his head.
"Hey, Skipper, up there to the right, is that beautiful or what?"
"Beautiful, man."
"Keep it up, Kowalski."
"For how long?"
"Could be an hour, could be eight. I'm going to try to see if I can figure out what it is and whether I can neutralize it."
Kowalski rolled his eyes. "It's gonna be a long day."
He had no idea.
Captain's Cabin, 1030 hours
The Admiral arrived at the Captain's cabin slightly after Ryder. "Let's go inside, son."
"May I join you?" Mr. Morton asked.
"Please."
"What's wrong? Have I done something wrong?"
"No. We're just trying to figure something out."
"Why are we in the Captain's cabin without him?"
"We think that the Captain has been drugged. We need to ask you some questions."
"You don't think I had anything to do with it? I would never. The Captain, he's been so kind to me."
"Calm down, Ryder," the Admiral said. "No one's making accusations against you."
"Look, it's just that you served the Captain's breakfast. The only thing he had on the bridge was the same pot of coffee we all drank from. We want to figure out if it could have been something he ate or drank this morning."
"He had an omelet with vegetables, coffee, a piece of toast, and orange juice."
"What of that did he actually eat?" Chip asked.
"Coffee, juice and a fair bit of the omelet."
"You've already taken the tray to the galley and the leftovers would be long gone by now, damn," the Admiral said.
"No, sir, not exactly."
"Explain yourself."
"Well, the first thing Kowalski taught me was that the Cook gets upset if you come back with the Captain's plate unfinished. So the leftovers went in the trash."
"Great, we'll take it to Doc," the Admiral said.
"I emptied the can when I came to tidy up."
"Where?"
"I put it in the laundry room when I took the Captain's clothes for washing."
"I want you to go, find that bag and bring it to the doctor."
"Yes, sir. Sir, is the Captain going to be all right?"
"I surely hope so, son."
The Admiral and Mr. Morton remained behind. "Chip, is there anything going on aboard ship that could explain what's happened to Lee?"
"There's been a little friction among the crew, but I can't imagine any of it leading anyone to drug Lee."
"Follow up on it just in case, unless you have any other ideas."
"Yes, Admiral."
Morton checked Sick Bay after he left the Admiral.
"Any ideas who might have done this?" he asked Kowalski.
"A couple of guys were mouthing off this morning, and after I put him on report, Foster made a threat, but that was after this had to have happened, sir."
"To sir, with love, if you wanted to fly like a bird on the wing, hmmm hmmm."
"I knew I'd regret pushing him to do those talent shows at the Academy," Chip said.
"At least he sings in tune," Doc said. "Frankly, as long as we keep him singing, he seems perfectly content to stay here. That's a first."
"Singing in the rain, just singing in the rain."
"Oy. Well, if you have any ideas Kowalski, share them. Hopefully, Ryder will show up with his leftovers and we can see if whatever it was in his breakfast."
"Breakfast, sir?"
"It seems the most logical possibility. He ate alone in his cabin."
"Rogers is on the breakfast line," Kowalski said.
"Let's see what if anything Ryder comes back with and then we may follow up with Cookie next," Dr. Jamison said.
"Sir?" Kowalski paused as he seemed to rethink asking his question to Mr. Morton.
"Yes?"
"I was just thinking, and I mean, I can't imagine why he would do it, but is there any reason to suspect Ryder?"
"He certainly was the last man with opportunity. Motive is a lot harder to figure. We'll have to look into all the possibilities. I'll talk to Foster."
"Anderson too. I think he's the source of much of the gossip," Kowalski added.
"Night shift, that would make sense. I'll do that. Meanwhile, we got a mission to run. Call me if there's any significant change or improvement, Doc."
The Control Room, 1530 hours
The Admiral cozied up to Mr. O'Brien at the chart table. "If we go in this way, we should be able to avoid any real threat. We can always back out if we need to."
"Admiral?"
"Mr. Morton, good, I'm glad you're here. Dr. Livsey has agreed to shift the sampling locations slightly so that we should be able to avoid any danger. We'll have to go a little out of the way to get there, but it'll save time compared to holding out here or scrubbing and returning. Come here, see."
"I wish the Captain could give a say on this Admiral. I don't think he'd like it. Our seismological data is not that strong in this region. There could be many small volcanoes; ones that could set off a chain reaction."
"I understand that, but we know the general lay of the land. If we are careful, we should be fine."
"And by careful, you mean what?"
"We'll have to see what the situation is to determine that."
"I think Lee would prefer reacting to data, sir."
"Yes, well, that's not necessarily one of Captain Crane's strong suits."
"Reacting to data, sir?"
"Overreacting to it, Mr. Morton. Continue on this course, ¾ speed."
"Yes, sir," Morton replied in a voice that belied his feelings on the decision. "Why do I have a feeling that things are about to spiral out of control?" he muttered under his breath.