Circles

'Circles, circles, we're going round in circles.' Chip was singing and drawing circles in the air with his pencil. 'Hiya! Good morning there, Skipper, old buddy.'

Crane was upset, they had sailed in a circle to the same position they had been in yesterday.

There was no way they could get back to port quickly now.*

Nelson explained to Morton, Sparks, and the Chief that they would need to wait long enough for the gas to take effect then a detail with gas masks could go in to secure Hendley. The risk was Hendley's gas canister deploying. It was a serious risk but one the Skipper had been willing to take. Once Hendley was secure Morton was to scrub the air.

The Chief in concern asked, "What will it do to the Skipper?"

"If Hendley's canister deploys, and it is what he claims, it will kill him. If it doesn't then our gas will get him. I hope he doesn't fall too hard." He paused very briefly considering and then dismissing that. "Other than that he will be out cold for a couple of hours and will have a nasty hangover but he should be fine tomorrow."

The Chief looked stricken at the thought of the Skipper falling at all. "Fall? Oh no … "

The Skipper sighed and lifted his hand to his head. He grimaced and exhaled with a faint moan. He felt horrible. He opened his eyes. It was too bright here. Squinting and carefully not moving his throbbing head, he glanced around. These bulkheads and overhead were way too familiar. Sick bay … again.

"Skipper! Are you okay?" It was the Chief this time.

It was too loud here. His head was pounding with his heartbeat. "Oh, my head." With waves of nausea washing over him he groaned. "I feel sick."

"Right, sir. You were gassed. The Admiral says you won't feel good today but should be fine tomorrow."

Will he ever feel fine again? How to get to tomorrow? He could already feel that his ribs were broken again, all the mending to be done over. He groaned, cringing at what was coming next and flinching already at what it would do to his longsuffering ribs. "I'm going to be sick."

The Chief reached for the basin.

The next morning Nelson visited Crane in sick bay … again. Doc was protecting the Captain vigorously, and was screening all visitors. Doc had explained that the fall in the control room had broken Crane's ribs again and this time he had gotten a bang on the head as well. Now the Captain would stay in sick bay at all times and could not leave unless he had direct approval from Doc himself. Doc had been overridden by the Admiral once too often this mission and would not budge. Nelson and Crane both reacted a bit like shamefaced school kids found breaking the rules and were abashed into submission … for the time being.

As Nelson was about to leave at the end of the visit Lee said with regret, "In all that's happened I am sorry I've missed the chance to talk with Baldwin. We were hoping to catch up, but Starke kept track of me the whole time I was over there, and then I ended up back here."

"You wanted to talk with him?" Nelson sounded completely incredulous. The same incredulity as the time he had once said, 'Your Mother?'#

Crane responded to that disbelief, "Yeah, talk. You know … shoot the breeze. Touch base. Brag about our vessels. Whatever."

Nelson instantly was on the alert. If Crane wanted to brag about his boat that was a hopeful sign, very hopeful indeed. He looked inquiringly over at Doc who gave a nod.

Within fifteen minutes orders were issued for both vessels to heave to before they got farther apart. Baldwin received orders to report to Seaview for immediate strategic talks. The flying sub would fetch Baldwin to Seaview and would be there in two hours to pick him up.

Riley loved flying FS1 and was thrilled to be doing something to help his Skipper.

Baldwin came up the hatch from the flying sub and was met by Nelson in the Observation Nose. He commented on the high level orders needed to hold both vessels and for him to be flown in by the very unique flying sub. Nelson indicated that it was considered essential. Baldwin asked, "What's up?"

Nelson replied, "You have a meeting with Captain Crane. He was disappointed he didn't get to talk with you while he was aboard your ship. He said he wished he hadn't missed out on that."

"So what gives? His wish is your command?"

Nelson gave his small musing smile. "Yeah, something like that. By the way he doesn't know you're here. He's in sick bay … again."

The Chief had been really worried about the Skipper now that he was in sick bay … again. The Doc was adamant that he wasn't getting out this time for quite a while, a week at least, possibly more. His ribs were busted again so the Skipper was back to square one for that. Going to the nose would have to be approved by the Doc every time and it was not allowed yet at all. The Skipper needed a break from this entire top-secret-classified-mission, trussed-up, broken-bones, kicked-in-the-ribs, held-at-gunpoint, and gassed-into-unconsciousness stuff.

The Chief headed to sick bay to see if there was anything he could do to cheer up the Skipper.

As he entered the anteroom to see if Doc would let him in he heard a stranger speaking. "Let me get this straight … all that happened … and then you kept Hendley at bay in a standoff? You're kidding right? There's no way I can ever match that story. And no one would believe it anyway." The stranger laughed and continued. "I'm not sure I believe it! I admit it, you got me beat for best story. Just a sec … so when I threw that old one-two at you … ?"

The Chief then heard a very rare, but exceedingly welcome sound, the Skipper laughing, obviously super gently because of his ribs, but laughing nonetheless as he answered. "You had me. I nearly fell on the deck!"

The stranger replied, "You should have seen the look on your face when your sailor backed me away from you … right in front of Admiral Starke. You looked like you had just been hit by a truck, although I never touched you, and wanted the deck to open up and swallow you." They were both laughing now. The Skipper gasped suddenly in discomfort and the Chief could just imagine him hugging his chest to support those poor ribs.

With a look of surprise the Chief pondered, not sure if he had heard the ever-serious Skipper really laughing before … sure smiles and chuckles occasionally but laughing? He looked at Doc, "Uh, I was just wondering if I could cheer the Skipper up but things seem good at the moment." Doc nodded happily. The Chief smiled and with a contented nod of his own, happily headed out and carried on down the passageway.

Some days later Doc had agreed to finally let Crane out of sick bay for a couple of hours to go to the nose with strict instructions to not trip, fall, stumble, bash, jolt, or jostle anything. Doc made it very clear to the Captain that any lack of care would result in the privilege being revoked and not being given again. Crane was suitably meek and promised to not get kicked in the ribs. Once word was given to the control room that the Skipper was coming forward, Riley, who was on duty watch there, immediately requested and received permission to run shotgun for the Skipper.

Over the past days Riley had become like a self appointed nanny fetching and carrying and basically doing anything he could to make the Skipper's time in sick bay better for him. Now he zipped down to sick bay to escort the Skipper even though the Skipper would have a corpsman with him. Riley cleared the corridors for him, hovered at the hatches. He got the Skipper safely settled in the nose with the Captain hiding his amusement at the eager enthusiasm.

Once Riley was satisfied that the Skipper was okay, as comfortable as possible and didn't need anything at the moment, he returned to his station. Nelson and Crane exchanged a glimmering look and amused smiles.

Nelson observed, "I've noticed quite a change in Riley lately."

"He seems to have grown up a lot the last couple of weeks, although he does follow me around a bit like a puppy."

The Admiral smiled, "A bit like a midshipman named Crane serving aboard the Nautilus some years back perhaps?"

Crane smiled ruefully. "Was I that obvious?"

"Oh, yes." Nelson reflected, "I have always thought there was a fine officer inside that lad. That's why I approved his selection for Seaview. He just needed time to grow up a bit. If he continues on this way we'll lose him to the Academy before long."

"He has seen a lot happen the past couple of weeks, enough to make or break his choice to be at sea. It seems it may be the making of him."

Hearing that Nelson uneasily wondered again if the happenings of the past couple of weeks would make or break Lee's choice to be at sea.

Crane looking slightly puzzled for a second or two continued, "By the way, how long have we been at sea now? What's Chip doing? Sailing in circles?"

Nelson didn't tell him, and had no intention of telling him, that was exactly what Chip was doing. "Mm, hmm. I believe he's avoiding some rough seas." He smiled and jested to make light of it and distract the Captain. "At this rate by the time we get back to Santa Barbara you'll be back to active duty."

Crane scoffed.

This was the first indication Lee had shown of any interest in Seaview's current position or status.

Nelson looked closely at Lee. His face still wore the tense look of hiding and controlling pain. As he watched Lee reacting to his jesting, Nelson noticed a slight easing in that tension. For the first time, for just a fleeting moment, the tension had softened. That was an improvement. He was still weak and moved very carefully. Nelson hated to think of his ongoing struggles with his demons. There was still a long way to go, but Nelson was happy to wait. He hoped Lee would find inner healing and the resolve to stay on. He figured it is still a very close run thing.

Nelson was very grateful Doc had approved the choice to take Crane home by the slow route aboard Seaview instead of flying him directly from the carrier. He believed that if they had Crane flown back to Santa Barbara to face recuperation alone and troubled, while his best companions were still at sea, they would have waved him away to despair and lost him.

The current mission, known to everyone aboard except Crane, was one of rest and recovery for the whole crew. While the Skipper healed with his friends nearby, everyone aboard benefited from some lighter duty and the Seaview from some extra spit and polish. They were actually collecting some water samples along the way for a current project should they need to justify the time but that was more camouflage and secondary to the real mission. The Admiral was insisting on an uneventful, peaceful voyage for all. They all played a role in the missile complex mission and each was affected either positively or negatively by it in some way. Each had things to ponder and stories to tell. It had been good for all of them to have the time to talk and listen, to grieve with companions, to enjoy new confidence or regain lost strength. Sailing in circles this time had its advantages.

They chatted for a while peaceably but all conversation still came back to recent events. They both still needed to talk it out a lot to get themselves back on even keels. Having people they trusted around them had been essential for that.

Most men could talk about their own memories of the mission now with someone else aboard. Lee, however, struggled with the final hours with Messer and Whelan and what he remembered of The Slip. He couldn't face that with words yet. He had hinted at it to Chip to help Chip deal with remorse, but his two shattered, devastated words to Nelson 'I screamed' was the only thing he had been able to say about it on his own account. He went cold and silent if it was mentioned, wouldn't acknowledge it, avoided facing it even to the point of turning his face away if it came up, that's how Nelson knew he remembered. It haunted and grieved him.

Nelson had been back to the storage compartment. Sharkey had walked there with him but had stopped about ten feet away from the hatch, available for support but giving him privacy. He had stepped forward alone. For him just standing at the hatch before opening it had been an act of courage. As he had paused there, his hand on the hatch wheel, he remembered sounds, brutal, desperate sounds. Remembered the cries of the man who endured, keeping his honour, losing his assurance. He had steeled himself to swing the hatch open and wept as he stepped through. The stores had been completely rearranged, it didn't look the same, the repulsive chair was gone, but the compartment was full of the ghosts of suffering.

Lee hadn't been agile enough, or ready yet, to go there. No need to if he left them. If Lee choose to stay on then facing that space would be a trauma all on its own. Nelson didn't know how to make that easier. Some things just took the guts and courage that came from within. Some things could only be done with one's own strength of mind.

Nelson was reviewing assignments and missions for the next while. Rearranging those already on the schedule. With multiple injuries and broken bones, Lee would have several weeks of sick leave once they returned to Santa Barbara. Doc was busy making a lot of referrals for the Captain to ensure the best possible care and outcomes for both the physical recovery and traumatic shock. Doc was making referrals regarding traumatic shock for Nelson and Kowalski as well.

Seaview would be getting some maintenance, and the crew some shore liberty before heading out again. Nelson was working on the logistics of the projects for the next few months, hoping Lee would re-join Seaview before all of them were complete.

The next day Chip came down the spiral stairs to the nose; Lee was there standing solitary gazing out the window. His back was turned to Morton, but Chip from long experience read Lee's posture well. This time his back was eloquently describing desolation and grief. Chip stood beside him casting a fleeting sidelong glance his way. Then, to not intrude on the sorrow very evident there, looked out the window himself. "Lee?"

"Uh, … Chip." Lee glanced toward him from the corner of his eye, then turned his head away a little. His hand lifted up to his face and with some slight embarrassment he gave a quick rub of his knuckle to each eye. He recovered quickly and turned back shoulder-to-shoulder with Chip looking unseeingly straight ahead out the window.

"Lee? How can I help?"

Lee turned his face away slightly again. He stood there beside Chip dispirited and still; too still. His chest rose and fell as he gave an almost silent, grieving sigh.

He glanced sidelong at Chip but didn't speak, continued turning to glance toward the control room then turned his face away from Chip again. Asking without asking. Chip read the body language and silently turned back and touched the switch to the crash doors and then returned, his eyes again on the window. As the doors closed Lee's troubled gaze flicked sideways briefly towards Chip. They stood side by side in silence both looking ahead, neither looking at the distress in the other's face. Then on a muted, lamenting sigh, "Chip, … " despairing, broken.

"Lee, I'm listening."

Doc had released the Captain from sick bay so he could use his cabin. The corpsmen no longer stuck with him at all times but anytime he was on the move there was a crewmember, clipboard in hand, tagging along a little way behind, not to offer assistance but to see that he got where he was going safely. This activity was camouflaged as fire extinguisher inspections as necessary but so far the Captain hadn't seemed to notice.

Other than the broken bones, the knife wound, and a persistent stiffness and aching soreness everywhere most of the other physical injuries didn't trouble him as much. The black bruising had changed to purple then green, and was now faded yellow and brown. The stitches in the many lacerations had been removed. What was apparent still to everyone was his weakness, lack of stamina, and deep fatigue. He could go from fine to exhaustion in a moment.

A couple of days later Nelson joined Crane in the nose. Nelson, now that Lee's numerous injuries were healing, was more concerned about the traumatic shock, but he thought Lee might have turned a corner. Lee still struggled but he seemed less distant and disheartened. There was more sureness in his speech and more focus to his conversations. He just looked more aware. Doc had even mentioned that Lee had actually eaten most of a couple of his meals the past couple of days. That was a significant improvement as well, and a relief, as Lee was now painfully thin.

They chatted about many things including what they would do when they got to Santa Barbara. If Lee knew they had been sailing without making headway home he hadn't let on. Now though, suddenly glancing up at the Admiral with a slight gleam in his eyes Lee said, "Admiral, maybe you should have Chip actually head for home instead of sailing in circles? The men must be getting anxious for some shore liberty."

Nelson looked at him astounded. "How did you know?"

"Admiral! I may not be fit for duty but I'm not blind. Chip's been running in expanding spiral search patterns for the past two days at least."

"Lee!"

"Well to be honest, I really have no idea what you were doing before that. I think I was a bit out of it."

"Lee, you astound me."

"I really hope that's not in a bad way."

The Admiral laughed aloud, happy and relieved. Lee, however lamely, was actually bantering with him! He turned toward the control room and called out loudly to Chip, "Mr. Morton, the Skipper says to stop sailing in circles and head for home!"

Chip completely startled by the sudden change to his orders replied, "Aye, aye, sir." His look of surprise was priceless. "Lee! You knew?"

"Of course. She's my boat."

Nelson smiled to himself again; Lee's comment revealed that he still felt Seaview was his, still held a connection. That was good.

Chip headed them home.

Crane turned to Nelson and said, "By the way, Admiral, I think the fire extinguishers have been inspected enough for a while."

Nelson looked at his friend's very pale face, still gaunt, haggard and drawn and smiled a bit sadly. "Lee, I think we will keep those inspections up until we get home, huh. It's better that way."

Crane sighed, then conceded, "Aye, sir."

With the course really set for home now Nelson and Crane continued to talk and this time their conversation turned to the standoff with Hendley.

"Patterson was beyond worried when you didn't load the gun."

"What?"

"He was beside himself thinking you were defenceless. Did you know the gun was empty?"

"I … I don't … " He rubbed his forehead in frustration. What was wrong with his memory? "Um … Does it matter now? He wasn't going to kill me."

"No I imagine you didn't need a gun at all. Standing up to him like that! Talk about courage!"

"I don't think it was courage at all. I was just so furious that someone else was pulling a gun on you on your own sub."

"Mm, hmm." Nelson smiled a private little smile. Talk about facing one's demons! The past few hours had given him renewed hope for Lee's wellbeing. "But how did you know Hendley wouldn't kill you?"

"I guess I didn't know that for sure, but I was sure he didn't want to kill all the crew because he knew the grief it would cause. He wouldn't have wanted to inflict that on over a hundred families. But I didn't want the crew at risk. If he got up the nerve to pull the trigger once he might have kept going."

"Did you really think I would release a lethal gas with you in there?"

"Admiral!" Almost in exasperation, "I figured you would find something non-lethal. Henley already had lethal gas so the most important thing was to get the rest of you aft behind the separation in the ventilation system. That way you were safe. There was clearly a risk that he would still use his gas and kill the two of us in the control room. But in the moment that didn't matter … " Lee stopped to consider. "I guess I figured if you and the men were safe everything was okay." After a pause for brief reflection on what he had just said with a slight shake of his head he continued reiterating that surprising revelation, "If you couldn't come up with something else, then a lethal gas would have only killed Hendley and I. And … right then I didn't really care as long as the rest of you were safe. But you wouldn't have done that."

"How do you know that?"

Crane shrugged, barely, gently, but glad he could shrug a bit now. "Well you could have waited. He was only one person so he would have gotten tired, had to sleep at some point." With a wry twisted smile he continued. "Realistically though I couldn't outlast him in that. I was the one who would tire soonest so waiting wasn't really an option for you. I figured if you were in your lab you would think of something else. That's why I changed the name to Aft of 21."

Nelson chuckled, "I thought so. You trusted me to figure that out did you?"

"I trusted my life to you … " shifting nervously in his chair, like that temporary captain of yore so unsure of himself in Nelson's presence, with a surreptitious glance around to make sure no one would hear, he then choose to trust Nelson again and tried out the uncomfortable, the unfamiliar, " … Harry."

* Cradle of the Deep

# The Saboteur