Chapter 6
Sick Bay, 0500 hours
The Captain writhed in his restraints. "What the hell is going on? Why am I here?"
"Calm down, Captain," Dr. Jamison called out from the nearby bunk in which he'd slept. He got up and walked over to Lee. "How are you feeling?"
"Logy and confused. What am I doing strapped down in Sick Bay?"
"What's the last thing you remember?"
Lee drifted. "Bright colors. Music. Feeling extraordinarily happy."
"Do you remember where you were at the time?"
"No. Dreaming, I think."
"You were given a hallucinogenic. You were restrained so that you wouldn't hurt yourself."
"A hallucinogenic? Who? Why?"
"We don't have good answers to that yet, although I assure you that the Admiral and Mr. Morton will find them. Meanwhile, you did have a small shoulder separation. Expect to be sore when I let you up." The doctor released the restraints. Lee groaned.
"I can't remember anything specific. Did I do anything to embarrass myself?"
"No, Captain. Mostly you sang."
"Can I go back to quarters now?"
"After I take a blood test. I want to make sure that the drug is out of your system before I let you go anywhere."
"What's Ryder doing here?"
"He and Kowalski took turns keeping you calm yesterday and last night. He was a big help."
"He's a good kid."
The doctor drew Lee's blood. "I can order you up some breakfast while you wait for my results if you'd like."
"Just some black coffee, I think."
Doc shook his head at him.
"Maybe some toast?" the Captain offered in conciliation.
"Treat this as the hangover from hell, Lee. You're going to have to force down food and juice, or you'll spend the entire day here. Probably would be the wisest course of action anyway."
"But I've about done you in, haven't I?"
"Yes. Eat breakfast and if your blood work is clean, you can leave."
An hour later, Lee Crane returned to his cabin, threw up the full breakfast he'd forced down to escape Sick Bay, showered, and changed. Next, he took the brave step of returning to the Control Room.
The Galley, 0530 hours
"Admiral?"
"I need a minute to speak with you, in private, Cookie."
If looks could kill, or at least wither, it would be Cookie's.
"Who prepared breakfast for Captain Crane yesterday?"
"Yer not suggestin' I poisoned the Cap'n?"
"Of course not, but some sort of hallucinogenic found its way into his breakfast. The doctor is certain."
"I did. Made 'im a three egg omelet with veggies."
"Did anybody else have the same thing?"
"No. Cap'n hates those canned mushrooms, so I used some expensive dried ones."
"Where did they come from?"
"You'd have to ask Rogers. He does the ordering. In fact, it was 'im that suggested using them. You don't think? . . . Nah. You know I tasted 'em myself. Nothing 'appened."
"How much did you have?"
"Just a wee bite. Precious stuff if you ask me. Rogers said he got it in case we had another of those vegetarian researchers on board."
"That'll be all then."
"You gonna talk to Rogers?"
"Not yet, Cookie. For now, let's keep this between us and keep your eyes open."
"Yes, sir. Funny things going on about these days."
"Funny things?"
"Just talk, buzz, among the crew. Bout that new kid, Ryder. Kowalski nearly got in a scuffle with a pair in the mess this morning about 'im. Doesn't fit in too well, if ya know what I mean. Maybe you should be checking into him, since he takes the Cap'n his breakfast."
The Admiral sighed. "Thanks for the suggestion, Cookie. I'll keep it in mind. Meanwhile, please do as I asked."
"Sure, sir, sure thing. Hope the Cap'n's right as rain soon."
"Me too, Cookie. Me too."
Mess Hall, 0630 hours
"I'm telling you. When I took dinner up for Doc last night, the two of them were belting out show tunes and holding hands. It was disgusting," Anderson told a table of crewmen.
"Oh, come on, Anderson. We heard the Captain was drugged by someone and was hallucinating. Maybe he thought Ryder was Marilyn Monroe," Thornlow laughed.
"Or maybe the drug brought out the real Crane, the pansy," Anderson said.
"I ain't gonna serve under no fairy," Foster jumped in.
Kowalski got up from two tables away. "I already warned you two to shut up yesterday. The brig is next."
"Whatever happened to free speech?" Foster complained.
"Not only won't it be free, but that week's lost pay will turn into a month's. You hear me?"
"Maybe you're one of 'em too," Foster quipped with a nasty grin. Kowalski's fist hit Foster's jaw a moment later.
In a few more seconds, Kowalski had Foster pinned to the floor. "Now you shut up for good, or you won't be able to eat for a month," he said, poised to throw a crushing blow to Foster's jaw.
Chief Sharkey, having watched all this at a distance intervened. "Enough, 'Ski. Let him up. All of you, keep your traps shut. No more wagging your tongues or you go on report. Foster, I will put you in the brig if I hear a single word from you again. Understood?"
Foster nodded. Kowalski got up and stormed out of the mess. Sharkey stayed behind to make sure his orders were followed.
Control Room, 0700 hours.
"Well, good morning, Captain. Had a good night I hope?"
"Just swell, Chip, and you?"
"Slept like a baby."
"Then who was on duty?"
"The Admiral, O'Brien and I shifted. Weren't sure what we could expect from you today, so the Admiral wanted us all to get some rest."
"I'm fine."
"Sure you are."
"Really. Doc cleared me for duty."
"Okay. Glad to hear it."
"Care to bring me up to date on our status?"
"I was rather hoping the Admiral would do that."
"Because I'm not going to like it?"
"Now we know how you made Captain. Mind reading powers."
"What's going on?"
"Seismic activity continues to increase. We're detouring around it some, but continuing toward the middle of it."
"For heaven's sake, why?"
"You know the Admiral's risk tolerance."
"Over 120 men's lives aboard and he's playing around with underwater earthquakes and volcanoes."
"I think he and Dr. Livsey are salivating at the research opportunity."
"Where is he now?"
"Hasn't shown his face yet. His quarters, I'd guess," Chip said. Lee took off immediately. "I'd pay to be a fly on that wall," Chip muttered with a grin.
Admiral's Quarters, 0709 hours
"Enter."
"Good morning, Admiral."
"Oh, good morning, Lee. Glad to see you up and about. How are you feeling?"
"Like the world's gone mad."
"Just possibly. So what would you like to discuss first, your episode or our heading?"
"Since only one of those involves the safety of the entire crew, I think you can guess."
"We've pointed our course up to come in between the Bougainville and Marianas trenches. We'll keep a respectful distance between them."
"Admiral, I can't think of a worse area to get caught in if there's a chain reaction."
"You know perfectly well that there are probably hundreds of submarine volcanoes the exact location of which we don't know that could threaten our travels anytime."
"But we do know about these, and we know activity is increasing."
"As long as we're not too close to bottom at the time, any magma will cool off before reaching the Seaview and we certainly would have time to move out of the way of any resultant lava flow."
"Look, I understand that if we are perfectly positioned, we're not likely to be harmed. What I disagree with is the amount of control we have to be perfectly positioned."
"Seaview's never been in finer shape, Captain."
"There are so many unknowns. What if both the fault lines near the Bougainville Trench and the Marianas Trench move simultaneously? We don't really know what that amount of energy coming from opposing sides could do to the boat."
"All the danger is to land, Lee. I'm far more fluent in seismology than you are. I assure you that we will be safe."
"I don't like it and I don't agree. The readings are building, suggesting that a significant event could occur. Why not just wait a few days?"
"Because I do not feel the risk is significant. Moreover, what a wonderful opportunity we have to do more seismic mapping along the way. Seaview is, after all, a research vessel."
"How many times have I heard this before a disaster we could have avoided?"
"That'll be enough, Captain. If you can't follow my orders, then you can stand down."
"Admiral, all this control you think we have. I was drugged on the Seaview the other day. We couldn't control that. We don't know who did it or how."
"The suspects are limited. Neither presents a risk to the mission."
"It's not a risk when someone drugs the Captain of the Seaview? What if it had been you?"
"Lee, calm down. I think we both know that what happened to you has nothing to do with the mission."
"How . . ."
"Before you jump down my throat, listen to me. I'm not saying it wasn't terrible, and I assure you that the person responsible will be placed in the brig until they are dismissed from the Seaview, but I have no doubt that this is a personal issue unrelated to the mission."
"Based upon what evidence?"
"The only possible suspects are Rogers and Ryder."
"Then it's Rogers."
"Okay. So do you think our cook's assistant is out to sabotage our mission or that he has the wherewithal to do that even if he wanted to?"
"No."
"Right. There we are."
"Is there proof it was Rogers?"
"We know he supplied the mushrooms that Doc believes were the source of the hallucinogen. I don't know that we can prove he knew what they were."
"Have we tried?"
"No. Frankly, I'm hoping it was a one time event. Cookie will keep a close eye on him and your food from now on. If you want, you can choose to take the matter up directly with Rogers."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Lee, I know that you seem closed to the possibility, but without more information, Doc can't swear that hallucinogen was from the mushrooms rather than something added later by Ryder. It was six hours before Doc got the leftovers to analyze."
"What motive would Ryder have to hurt me?"
"Who says anyone tried to hurt you? Doc said the effects seemed generally pleasant, except for the spill you accidentally took. Even that didn't bother you much."
"Why would Ryder want to get me high?"
"I don't know, but I think you should consider the possibilities. It seems far more likely to me that a college boy would know about and have access to that kind of drug than Rogers."
"No, I just can't accept that."
"Doc has radioed the Institute for more information about the drug. Once we get that, we'll know for certain which one it was. Shouldn't be more than a day or two. Until then, maybe you should take mess with the crew instead of on your own."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Are you sure you feel up to the conn today, Lee?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go to it then."
The Control Room, 0730 hours
"Show me what you've got, Mr. Morton."
"Here's our route. Here's the latest seismographic soundings. Here's the systems status report, and, last but not least, here's a fresh pot of coffee. She's all yours, Captain."
Lee gave Chip a look of frustration.
"I think I'll turn in now. Curl up with a good book. Think happy thoughts."
"Beats reality, I suppose."
"You know the Admiral's never wrong, Lee!" Chip poked him in the side.
"Except when he is," Lee mumbled.
Lee Crane settled down at the plotting table for the next hour, letting the crew proceed on course without a word of advice. When the tapping of the eraser end of his pencil accelerated to annoying speed, Mr. O'Brien padded over softly.
"Everything all right, Captain?"
"Huh? Just thinking, O'Brien. Why?"
"Usually when you start tapping like that with your pencil, something is troubling you."
"Oh. Well, maybe."
"It can be kind of annoying too."
"Right. Sorry. I'm going to walk the boat. As you know, I missed last night."
"Yes, sir."
"I may be a while. Call if you need me for anything."
"Yes, sir."
Lee Crane walked Seaview's lower decks for the next three hours, taking meticulous care to assess the Seaview's status. If the Admiral was going to insist upon continuing into the Ring of Fire during a seismically active period, Lee Crane was going to make certain Seaview was in top form.
He nitpicked his way from the bottom up. By the time he got to the Circuitry Room, he'd found twenty-three items that he wanted given immediate attention. He remained displeased with the status of the Circuitry Room. It had been only slightly tidied since his last visit.
"Foster, belay working on the new circuitry panel until I give the go ahead. Instead, clear this stuff out of here and double check the existing panels. Make certain that every wire to every critical system is securely attached and grounded. Don't leave a single wire frayed or exposed," he said as he pointed out several items that bothered him.
"But the Admiral wanted the upgrade finished as soon as possible. He's concerned about another overload."
"That overload wouldn't have happened if the existing panels had been properly maintained. I'm giving you a direct order, Foster."
"Yes, sir, as long as the Admiral knows."
Lee sighed heavily. This had been a flaw in the operation of the Seaview since he first came aboard. Yes, the Admiral owned the boat, but he wasn't her Captain, except when he wanted to be. It confused the men. It confounded Lee. T
"He'll know now." Lee picked up the intercom. "Circuitry Room to Admiral."
"Yes, Circuitry Room."
"It's Crane. I'm belaying the upgrade you ordered for the time being, Admiral."
"If you think it best, Captain."
"Satisfied, Foster?"
"Yes, sir," Foster snapped in a way that disturbed Lee.
"You have a problem with me, Foster?"
Foster didn't answer.
"Do you have a problem with me that would prevent you from carrying out your duties as ordered, sailor?"
"No, sir."
"Then do as I ordered," Lee said and left.
Guest Quarters, 1130 hours
Lee knocked softly at Ryder's door, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.
"Come in."
"Morning, Ryder. No, don't get up. I just wanted to come by and say thank you for your help yesterday. Doc says that you and Kowalski were godsends to him."
"You're welcome, sir. I'm glad I could help."
"Hopefully we'll get to the bottom of it soon."
"You mean who in the galley did it?"
"Presumably, yes."
"It had to be the food, sir."
"True."
"Captain, you can't think that I did it? Why would I do it?"
"No, Ryder, I don't think you did it."
"Thank you, sir. I just wish the rest of the crew believed that too."
"Has anyone said anything to you?"
Ryder bowed his head. "I'd rather not repeat it, sir."
"I could order you to tell me."
"I wish you wouldn't, sir. As long as you believe me, I don't really care what the crew thinks."
"I owe you an apology, Ryder. I don't think I did you any favors vis a vis the crew by moving you into the Guest Quarters. It might have stirred the pot."
"I don't think it would have made much difference, sir, and at least I can sleep here without getting slugged in the night."
"Take the next 24 off, Ryder. You've earned it. I'll catch mess in the wardroom in the morning."
"Coffee alone doesn't count, sir."
"I hear you. If you'd like, you're welcome to help yourself to any books from my shelves that might catch your eye."
"Thank you, sir."
The Control Room, 1215 hours
Lee returned to the conn. He pestered each station to check and recheck systems. It was the least, and most, he could do.
For lunch, he had Kowalski bring him half of a sandwich from the Mess and a fresh pot of coffee. He didn't finish his half tuna salad sandwich and he also left over the unasked for cookie.
The remainder of his watch consisted of much more pencil tapping. Several things bothered him: the mission, his drugging, difficulties with some crew members, both new and old, and memories too. The day dragged on eternally as he sat at the chart table. At times, he sat deep in thought, at others, he was just there, not thinking at all. He startled when Chip reported.
"You been like this all day, Skipper?"
Sparks' head roll suggested the answer was "yes."
"What? Just lost in thought."
"Any ones you want to share before handing off?"
"We're doing what the Admiral wants. I've been running systems checks all day, walked the boat this morning and checked on some things. We should be good to go when the unexpected happens."
"Did you eat anything today?"
"Lunch."
"I'll have someone bring you up a dinner tray."
"No, I'll go down and get something myself."
"Cookie will be gone."
"I can make a sandwich on my own."
"He won't like it."
"Too bad."
Galley, 2030 hours
"Evening, Captain."
"Evening, Anderson."
"Can I put together a tray for you? I was just getting a snack for Dr. Livsey."
"No thanks. I can manage."
"Where's Ryder?"
"I thought he deserved a night off after babysitting me the other night."
"Would you like me to do turn down for you then?"
"No thank you. I think I can manage."
"Of course, sir. Dr. Livsey never drinks more than a cup out of the pot; if you like, I could bring you the rest of the coffee after I serve him."
Crane saw Anderson already had the pot ready. "Sure. Never can say no to a cup of fresh coffee. Thanks."
Crane made a rudimentary sandwich from a piece of rubbery looking cheese, a piece of mystery meat, possibly bologna, and mustard. It didn't look too appetizing, like most of the food on the boat. He meant no offense to Cook; all ships were like that, relying on processed, pre-prepared foods as a matter of necessity.
Lee ate the sandwich as he stood in the galley so he wouldn't have to deal with the dish in his quarters later. He meticulously washed the plate and knife, and returned them to the cabinet and drawer. Cookie would be none the wiser.
Captain's Cabin, 2100 hours
Lee returned to his quarters. Anderson had already delivered the coffee pot. Lee sat and drank two cups although knowing it unwise to consume that much caffeine if he intended to sleep in a few hours. He glanced at the seismology report he found waiting on his desk. He didn't like the progression. He spent half an hour looking at the seismology book. He still didn't like it. He got up to seek out the Admiral. He took a single step before he doubled over in pain and vomited. He reached for the phone. He succeeded only in knocking it off the other side of the desk as he fell to the floor when another wave of cramping coursed through him.