Chapter 8
Crane made it to the first ladder up to Deck A, but he couldn't climb. Anderson's kicks had bruised a rib or maybe worse. He grabbed the intercom handset and tried to hail the Engine Room. No answer. He called out to the Reactor Room. No answer. The intercom didn't work anymore. He went to Sick Bay. It was empty. Everyone had gone aft or forward to stations for oxygen conservation. Options ran through Lee's head. The phone lines were limited on the ship. Sparks processed all calls, except you could direct dial Officers Quarters. No one was in those now, though. You could also dial Guest Quarters. He'd told Ryder to stay put. Had he? Lee dialed.
"Ryder. Not much time. May get cut off soon. Get gun from my cabin. Meet me in Sick Bay."
In just under two minutes, Ryder appeared. Crane spoke in a croaky whisper, his throat still raw and painful.
"We must get in the Circuitry Room. See if she can be fixed. Foster probably outside it guarding it. You head inside, through the ducts." Lee gulped some water hoping to soothe his throat enough to communicate the plan.
"I wouldn't know what to do in there."
"Diversion. Come out after I'm in."
"Wouldn't it make more sense for you to go inside and me outside?"
Lee nodded. "Not in this shape. Outside, I have advantage."
"You can barely stand, sir. How can you have an advantage against an armed man?"
"Do."
"Why?"
"They want me alive."
"What for?"
"Revenge."
"So I'm to jump Foster once you get inside?"
"Shoot him."
"I've never fired a gun. You better take it." Ryder forced it upon the Captain.
Lee began to give it back, but decided this was not a time to give a gun to one with no experience. "If I don't get in, crawl to the Missile Room and get help. Patterson will know what to do."
"Yes, sir."
Lee swilled more water, spilling some onto his shirt. He escorted Ryder to the laundry and pointed to the duct to enter. "Two minute head start. Go." As Ryder maneuvered his narrow frame into the duct and Lee turned to the door to exit, Lee wondered whether he was the one who needed the head start to cover the short distance. With a groan, or two, Lee began his long, slow journey aft.
Several minutes later, Lee cracked the hatch to the rear of the boat that lay situated just before the Circuitry Room. He doubted he'd been quiet enough to go unheard. Lee guessed that Foster either was inside the Circuitry Room ready to fend off any intruders or that he'd lined up around the corner from the Circuitry Room door in the passageway where he'd have clean aim on anyone coming from several access points.
Lee edged, low and slow, toward the Circuitry Room door, waiting for and expecting trouble. He put his left hand on the doorknob and paused. He hadn't seen or heard any signs of Foster. Maybe Lee had been wrong. Maybe Foster had done so much damage that he had no reason to still be near the Circuitry Room. Much of Foster's intercom conversation had been a ruse, after all. Lee only knew he didn't have the time or energy to hunt Foster down through the corridors beyond Circuitry, if he might be there. Instead, he slowly opened the Circuitry Room door inward, frustratingly blind to whatever might lay inside. He listened carefully for any sound. When he heard the sound, it was too late.
Someone kicked Lee's gun arm from the passageway outside. Lee's gun dropped to the floor while Lee fell off to the side just out of reach of the gun. Lee reached back towards it, only to find Foster's foot on top of his hand.
"Don't tempt me," Foster said as he slowly increased the weight on his foot while aiming his own gun at Lee's chest. Foster then eased down his free hand to pick up Lee's gun. When Foster returned to a full stand, he removed his foot from Lee's hand. He viciously swung it into Lee's gut. Lee moaned and curled in pain.
"Just what does it take to shut you down entirely, Captain?" Foster laughed. Foster pushed the door to Circuitry fully open and tossed Lee's gun into the far left corner. "Get up and get inside," he ordered Lee. He got behind Lee as Lee struggled to stand and, as soon as Lee was on his feet, Foster violently pushed Lee forward to the right. Lee tumbled onto the floor. He remained there, assessing the situation. Lee's gun was at the opposite end of the room near where Ryder should emerge at any time. Lee doubted Ryder could get to it before Foster saw or heard Ryder, however. It was imperative that Lee maintain Foster's attention to allow Ryder to slip inside. Lee dragged himself up, loosing a series of groans that both reflected how he really felt and that he hoped would cover any noise Ryder might make. Lee studied the circuitry panels.
The three major breaker panels were completely fried, but Foster hadn't stopped there. Afterwards, he'd cut the bundle of wiring exiting each panel, taking care to strand the labeled ends of the wires on the panel side, which promised to make reattachment of systems even more complicated. A fourth panel, on an opposing wall, which was dedicated to the intercom system, had its wires cut but not destroyed like the others.
"Thorough job, Foster," Lee croaked in a gravelly voice.
"Thank you, Captain. I'll take that as a compliment."
"How long did you tell the Admiral it would take to fix this?"
"Days."
"Good job, but I think you overestimated the quality of your work."
"I don't think so. Our people will board you long before you could get things repaired, if you had the opportunity, that is."
"Not so hard. I could finish the upgrade panel in a few minutes and jump critical circuits to it."
"You could do that from this unmarked mass of wires? I don't believe you."
"Don't," Lee shrugged to bait him.
"But if there is a possibility, I can take care of that now." Foster stepped toward the door to retrieve the fire ax.
"Think you can swing that and hold a gun on me at the same time?" Lee's voice seemed to be growing stronger on adrenaline.
"You have a point, Captain. I have a better idea." He kicked the ax toward the Captain. "You destroy it or I'll shoot you."
"You have orders to bring me in alive."
"I can shoot to wound. Would you like a preview?"
"Not really," Lee admitted.
Lee saw Ryder in the vent above Foster. Lee had to keep Foster distracted a bit longer. Lee wasn't naive enough to think he could toss the ax at Foster before Foster could shoot him, even if he felt tempted. Instead, he picked up the ax and swung it at the new panel. It bounced off the metal and free of Lee's hand, missing anything of consequence. "Too weak," Lee said as his body shrunk down in a not entirely fake show of exhaustion. As Lee had swung, Ryder had pushed the vent out and begun his plunge into the room. Foster turned as he caught the sound. Lee lunged forward into Foster, pushing him down. Foster rolled away. Ryder hadn't yet had time to retrieve Lee's gun when Foster sprang up with his own gun still in hand. Lee stood only a few feet from Ryder then.
"Clever diversion, Captain. Nevertheless, it was a failure, and two hostages are one more than I need. Shall it be pansy A or pansy B?" he laughed as he moved the gun playfully from one to the other. "What a convenient distraction you proved to be, Ryder, but now I see little need left for you," Foster said as he steadied his aim at Ryder's chest. Lee charged toward Ryder to push him out of the way. Foster's gun discharged. Ryder and Lee both lay unmoving on the floor. Foster cautiously edged over to see whom he'd hit, certain he'd made contact. Unobserved by Foster, Ryder scooped up Lee's gun, rolled over, and blindly shot toward Foster, once, twice, thrice. A cry of pain followed.
Ryder couldn't move for a moment, his breath gone or forgotten. He consciously inhaled and exhaled the acrid air of the Circuitry Room a few times, then found his muscles returning to his control. The warm gun remained in his hand. Foster wasn't moving at all. Foster's gun laid on the floor out of reach of Foster's limp arm. Captain Crane was down too, just a few feet away. He saw blood on the Captain, but movement too. Ryder rose and reached for the nearby intercom handset.
"This is the Circuitry Room. We need help here. Hello. Anyone, we need help in the Circuitry Room."
No one answered.
"Ryder," Lee Crane said softly, "I need you to listen closely. Help me up."
"You've been shot, sir."
"I'm painfully aware of that. In the next five minutes, before I likely go into shock, we've got a lot to do. I need to get up."
Ryder got him up and supported him.
"Take me over there," Lee pointed toward the unfinished upgrade panel. Lee quickly made several connections. "Now help me over there," he pointed toward the three large bundles of cut cables hanging down from the panels on the adjoining wall. Lee slunk down to the floor and leaned against the wall for support. He began to sort through the wires.
"What can I do?" Ryder asked.
"Get me a wire stripper from the top middle locker. Then get five sets of jumper cables from the third locker on the left, bottom shelf." Hook them to breakers 1, 3, 5, and 12. Bring me the ends after each one, in that order."
Lee stared at the first bundle. There was no time to look for the numbers on the cut off ends. He had to rely on his memory and knowledge - different gauges of wire, color coded by system or function. Still, there were so many it would be easy to muck it up. He'd tinkered with the circuitry so often, however, he had to believe in himself. Lee pulled four wires from three separate bundles, quickly falling behind Ryder's pace in attaching the jumper cables.
"What about the fifth one?" Ryder asked in anticipation. He feared the Captain might pass out from blood loss any second.
"Hook to breaker 20, flip the panel switch on, and then bring it here. Good. See this wire? Help me to the intercom, then pick up and hold this wire when I give the word."
Ryder complied even as he argued. "But the intercom is dead, sir."
"It won't be in a minute, not if I've earned my bars," Crane said as flipped the intercom panel breakers off, reconnected several wires and flipped the breakers back on. "Give me the handset."
Ryder put it in Lee's hand.
"After I complete my message, in eleven seconds, jump that wire - only for three seconds - then release it. As you do it, grab hold of anything you can to hang on. She's going to roll."
"And you, sir?"
"I'll just have to take my chances. Here goes. . .. Captain Crane to Control Room."
"Bravo, Captain. You've reconnected the intercom. A small accomplishment that."
"You're right, Livsey. Let me talk to the Admiral."
"He can hear you. Go ahead."
"Sorry Admiral - did my best - we'll have to abandon ship - I can't piece together the board in less than a right eleven hours - too much by my fingers as I count. Out."
"Count down now, Ryder."
Lee looked for something to grab on to, but there was nothing nearby. He sank down to the floor and prayed he'd saved the rest while Ryder counted down.
"Ten, nine, eight, . . .."
Control Room, 1206 hours
"So Admiral, your golden boy has now failed you too. Are you ready to concede defeat?"
Admiral Nelson extended his left hand forward and up as if to concede; at the same time, he reached back with his right hand to grab a wall stanchion. A second later, the ship violently rotated to the right.
Moments later, Dr. Livsey was unconscious. Kowalski sat on top of Anderson. He'd jumped on Anderson immediately after the lurch. Anderson's gun had been lost in the chaos.
"This is Admiral Nelson. We have Seaview back in our control. Emergency crews report to the Circuitry Room and the Missile Room on the double."
Circuitry Room, 1208 hours
"Sir, you did it."
"No, we did, son," Lee Crane said as he slipped from consciousness. He'd rolled clear across the room when the boat lurched and then halfway back again when she righted. A stripe of blood marked the path he'd travelled.
The intercom crackled. "Circuitry Room report."
"Here, sir."
"Where's the Captain?"
"Captain Crane is unconscious, sir. We need the doctor fast."
"Who is this?"
"Ryder. Foster shot the Captain. The Captain, he saved my life."
"Help is on the way, Ryder. Hold on to him tight, though. Evasive maneuvers are likely."
Ryder reached for the first aid kit. He pulled out a wad of gauze and, hard as he could, pressed it into the Captain's side as he cradled him. Moments later, a crew burst into the room carrying enormous batteries. "What's our status, Ryder?" Patterson asked.
"If I understand what the Captain had me do, basic navigation and missile controls are back on line. We temporarily jumped a trim control to roll the ship."
"How long has he been at this?"
"Only a few minutes."
"How the heck could he have figured out those connections in that time?" Patterson shook his head in disbelief. "There's only one like him. Knows this baby like no one else. Let me get a few more things connected and we might just sail smoothly out of this mess." Patterson and another crew member focussed on one bundle, choosing wires much more slowly than the Captain had.
"Attention all hands. This is the Control Room. We will commence emergency evasive maneuvers in approximately two minutes. Brace yourselves. If all goes well, we will launch missiles immediately after."
"This is Patterson, sir, in Circuitry. You'll be good to go with all, I repeat, all main navigation and ballast controls on line in two minutes."
"Good work, Patterson."
"Mostly the Captain's, sir."
Dr. Jamison burst into the room. "Where's he hurt?"
"Bullet wound, side. No exit. Before then, I think something happened to his ribs," Ryder said.
"Let's get him to Sick Bay."
"Better stay put for now, Doc. We're about to do evasive maneuvers. It'll be over one way or the other fast," Patterson said.
"Then we'll just have to ride it out here, I guess. Not his first time doing that." The doctor took over compression from Ryder.
"Will he make it, Doctor?"
"Doesn't look like the bullet hit an artery, but it could have nicked an organ. I won't know anything for certain until I get him on the table. His overall weakened condition may be our biggest problem. That said, Captain's a strong man."
As if on cue, Lee Crane's eyes prized open. "Seaview out of danger?"
"Soon, Captain," Doc said optimistically.
"You did great, Ryder," Crane creaked out. "Saved the boat."
The Doctor looked toward Ryder.
"I only did what he told me to."
"All hands, brace yourselves," the intercom blasted. The sub lurched left and rolled steeply. Another lurching roll followed. "Launch missiles 1 and 4." An eerie silence followed and continued until the intercom again blared. "All clear, men. The enemy sub is disabled. All stations report for damage control on the double."
"Let's get him to Sick Bay," Dr. Jamison ordered.
Dr. Jamison followed behind as the men carried the Captain. He'd felt confident moments earlier about the Captain's chances, but after the rush of excitement ended and the ship went quiet, so did the Captain, as if he wasn't needed anymore.
Sick Bay, 1224 hours
Admiral Nelson checked in from the door to Sick Bay. "How is he, Doc?"
"Can't say until I open him up. He's got a bullet in his side that has to come out. He's down a lot of blood and he's still weak from the last several days. Add to that two cracked ribs."
"Keep me posted. Ryder, come here. From what I understand, it was you who executed the Captain's plan and saved the boat."
"I just helped with what he asked."
"Correctly and efficiently. You're to be commended. Would you like to join me on the bridge?"
"I'd rather stay here for now if that's all right, sir."
"Sure, sure. Come let me know how he is when Doc is finished."
Ryder stayed quietly in the background after Admiral Nelson left to attend to repairs. The surgery was short.
"Bullet only penetrated muscle. His ribs stopped it from hitting the intestine. The Skipper got lucky this time. We'll be struggling to keep him in Sick Bay through the night. Ryder, will you take word to the Admiral?"
"Yes, Doctor."
Control Room, 1405 hours
Ryder felt odd entering the Control Room without the Captain at his side. He had never gone there alone before. He paused at the hatch. "Sir?"
Both Mr. Morton and the Admiral turned in response. So did everyone else.
"Dr. Jamison sent me. Captain Crane, he'll be fine."
"Thank the Lord," Chip breathed. He went over to Ryder, grabbed his hand, shook it firmly, released it, then patted Ryder's arm. "Great job helping us get out of this mess, Ryder."
"Yes, we all owe thanks to you and the Captain," the Admiral agreed.
Embarrassed, Ryder fairly withered back out the door. He headed to the Captain's Cabin to prepare it for his return and to put back the Captain's gun. Ryder took his time, wanting to make the room perfect for the injured man. He spent an inordinate amount of effort adjusting every book on the Captain's shelves to line up perfectly. During the process, he came across the Captain's yearbook from Annapolis, Lucky Bag. His curiosity got the better of him. Ryder took the book to the desk and laid it down. Suddenly, his legs felt like jelly. The realization of what he'd been through, that he'd killed a man, began to claim its toll. Ryder sat in the Captain's chair. He felt stronger there. To keep his calm, he began to flip through the pages slowly. Lee Crane's gleaming face appeared on many pages, involved in talent shows, boxing, wrestling, and more. His year book sported signatures and well wishes galore. Ryder found a picture of him as a freshman and marveled at his growth by graduation. He had been a pretty boy when he entered; he'd left looking much more like the man he was now.
Ryder continued to flip pages. He saw Mr. Morton's picture and entry to the Captain. "To the most honorable and loyal man I shall ever know." Strong words. True words, Ryder felt. Words of pressure too, to live up to expectations like that. He didn't envy the Captain that burden. Ryder began to feel he'd crossed a line, acted as a voyeur. He picked the book up to return it. A newspaper clipping fell out. An obituary. He glanced at the date. It was from winter of the Captain's sophomore year. A fellow student. How sad. He was uncertain what page it came from, so he randomly placed it towards the back feeling guilty for not putting it in its proper place. He hoped the Captain would not be upset. He didn't think he would, but Ryder could feel his emotions running wild now, all the excitement, the danger, the horror. He had to calm down.
Ryder headed to own cabin. He tried to lie down for a while. He gave it up an hour later, despite the feeling of total exhaustion that seemed to embrace him. He headed to the mess. Maybe something to drink and eat would calm him.
Only two other men were in the mess then. They sat together. One of them was Rogers. Ryder sat down at a table by himself.
"What can I get you?" Cookie called from the galley.
"A sandwich, maybe some milk, please."
"Sure thing, kid." Cookie seemed unusually friendly toward him, but Ryder wasn't certain as Cookie quickly disappeared into the galley.
"I'll go back to the Navy, I will. I won't serve on this or any other ship with no pervert," Rogers announced loudly. "What about you? You gonna take orders from a fag any more?"
"Stuff it, Rogers," the other crewman said.
Rogers rose, glared at Ryder, and headed out the door.
Ryder left the galley without eating. He returned to his cabin. There he gathered the books he had borrowed from the Captain. He carried the books to the Captain's cabin and replaced them in their original locations. Then he sat down at the Captain's desk, used the Captain's stationery to write a note, and left it in an envelope on the table. Lastly, he retrieved the gun that he earlier had returned to the Captain's drawer and exited.
Sick Bay, 1503 hours
Lee Crane awoke to find Dr. Jamison at his side. "Stay still, Lee. You're doing fine, but I don't want you moving around too soon. I kept your sedation very light because of other things that have been in your system the last few days."
"Ice?" He pointed to his throat.
"Sure."
Lee pulled himself up to a sit. He groaned a little.
"Bullet only hit muscle. You'll just be sore for a while. Same with the ribs, cracked but not badly."
"Not bad at all," Lee croaked. Doc handed him the spoon and ice chips.
"I've been replenishing your fluids and pumping nutrients in to help you get your strength back, but don't get any ideas about hurrying out of here."
"Seaview safe?"
"Yes, somehow you managed to stay conscious long enough to be certain of that."
"Where's Ryder?"
"I don't know."
"Call."
Ryder did not respond to the intercom request. "Phone," Lee demanded making a phone usage gesture in case his voice failed him. Ryder did not answer the Guest Quarter's phone either. "Kowalski."
The Doctor paged Kowalski to Sick Bay.
"Minute in private," Lee asked.
Dr. Jamison wondered what Lee Crane was up to, but knew that Kowalski would be a voice of reason. The Doctor stepped out into the corridor.
A minute later, Kowalski held open the door as Captain Crane, wincing, walked through it.
"Where in the bloody hell do you think you are going?" Doc challenged.
"Check on Ryder."
"There's a whole crew who can check on him. It doesn't need to be you."
"Does."
"Kowalski, stop him. Bring him back inside."
Kowalski faced contradicting orders. He knew he should listen to the M.O., but something in his Skipper's face compelled him to continue helping the Skipper. "I'll watch over him, Doc."
"I suppose I'll just wait here until you call for me, then," Dr. Jamison huffed.
Kowalski practically had to propel the Skipper up the ladder to the top deck, and then pick the Skipper up off his knees at the top.
"The Doc was right. You can't do this. Let me go check on Ryder."
"No, stay here. I can make it." Lee drew himself upright by pulling up on Kowalski. The stitches pulled and his muscles stabbed in pain. Lee nevertheless continued to stumble forward toward the Guest Quarters. Lee stood leaning on the door. He knew something was wrong. He decided not to knock. He opened the door, unaware that Kowalski stood only two feet behind him.
"No," Lee Crane ordered firmly in a raspy voice.
Ryder sat in a chair with the Captain's gun pointed toward his own head. His hand shook. "I'll never be accepted here or anywhere."
"You will. Give it time. People need to be educated and to adjust. They will accept you."
"No, they won't. I saw that today. Even after what happened, after we saved their lives."
"Then they are idiots who need to be ignored. Don't cave in to their stupidity."
"But because of people like them, I'll never be able to live as who I really am."
"There are ways, and things will change. What about your parents, what this would do to them? The brave, smart boy they've raised and supported killing himself." Lee's voice and energy began to fade.
"The one who's living a lie that will devastate them?"
"You can't know that. You owe them a chance to accept you as you are."
Ryder hesitated a few moments. "No, I've decided. Please respect that and leave."
"No. If you do it, you'll have to do it in front of me."
Ryder's hand shook worse now.
Lee slowly moved toward Ryder. "This is not just about you, Ryder. I swore I would never stand by and let something like this happen again. I can't go through this again." Lee, his energy sapped, stumbled forward into the desk. His stitches ripped and he moaned as he went down on the floor.
Kowalski was about to run to the Skipper's aid; then he thought about going for Ryder's gun arm. In the end, he didn't move. "Help him, Ryder. The Skipper needs your help."
Ryder put the gun down and went to the floor with the Captain. "You're bleeding again."
"Don't care," Lee said and he embraced Ryder firmly. Kowalski saw tears in the Captain's eyes; Ryder cried too. Kowalski wanted to run for the hills. Instead, he secured the gun and called for the doctor to come.
"Captain, what did you mean you can't go through this again? You're not like me. I don't believe that."
"No, I'm not. But it doesn't mean that I don't understand. My first year at the Academy, I became friends with a wonderful young man much like you. People conjectured, people warned me to stay away from him lest I be considered like him. Wouldn't have been the first time if it happened. I was skinny and pretty until I shot up and filled in some."
"What happened to him?"
"He was harassed endlessly. He received anonymous threats. I tried to support him and protect him. I even went to a professor that I thought might help. He told me, 'Not in this man's navy, not now, not any time in the near future; he'd be better off elsewhere; if you're a true friend, you'll help him get there; save yourself a boatload of trouble down the road too.'"
"Did you tell him that?"
"No, and maybe I should have. The harassment and threats continued. His grades started to decline. He considered withdrawing, except he was overwrought about how his parents would react. One afternoon, he locked himself in his room and shot himself. He'd slipped a note under my door beforehand. I ran to his room as soon as I got it. I found him, barely alive. He died in front of me as I waited for help to come. I swore that day that I would never let that happen again under my watch, that kind of treatment and abuse. I won't tolerate it on the Seaview or anywhere. I'll walk right off this boat if these men can't learn to accept."
By now a small crowd had gathered outside the door, but they held back as the Captain spoke, even the doctor.
"Some of them can't help how they feel. They were told that we're an abomination to God."
"Must be some other God than mine, then, who hates his own creation. Moreover, I'll pay a million dollars to the man who shows me where Jesus commends anyone to shun or punish another living soul. He said to judge not, to love thy neighbor as thyself."
"I'll second that," the Admiral said, "and any man aboard the Seaview who can't live by those principles can leave at the first port of call. Now, everyone, clear out and let the doctor do his job."
Dr. Jamison looked at Lee. He was ashen, but probably stable. "Back to Sick Bay, Captain. Kowalski, Frank, if you please."
"I've got him on this side," Ryder said.
"Ryder, I'd venture to say you've got all of us on that side now," the Admiral quipped.
"Hey, if we could hurry this up, I don't think I'm going to be conscious much longer," Lee Crane murmured throatily.
"In truth, Captain, I'd be hard pressed to explain how you are now," Dr. Jamison said. Let's go, men."