Underwater War

by Charlie Carter

  ‘We can’t stop now, Prof. This helps us learn about MetaBooks. It’s groundbreaking stuff.’

  ‘It’s the bone-breaking stuff I’m worried about.’

  ‘We have to do one more battle at least.’ Napoleon could see another bubble, smaller than the last, only a little way ahead.

  ‘You could have been seriously hurt back there, BB. I have a bad feeling about MetaBook 7. I think we should pull out immediately.’

  But Napoleon was already heading straight for the bubble, aiming his Laser Blade. ‘Sorry, Prof, but you’re cracking up. Did you say enter this Battle Bubble?’

  ‘No, BB005. I did not.’

  ‘Okay, then,’ Napoleon said as the Battle Bubble loomed closer. ‘You heard the prof, Skin. Prepare to enter.’

  ‘Correction, BB005. The professor did not — ’

  ‘No time for discussion, Skin,’ Napoleon shouted. ‘We’re going to hit that BEB soon. Activate the Laser Blade at once.’

  Napoleon had his hands out in front, locked together in firing mode. A blade-shaped beam shot from the end of his laser finger. It sliced the Battle Bubble and he entered in one quick movement.

  But, then, he got the shock of his life.

  ‘Oh no!’ Napoleon screamed.

  He was far above a steel grey sea, falling like a stone through a clear blue sky.

  ‘What’s happening, Skin?’ he yelled. ‘HoverVest, Boot Boosters, where are they?’

  ‘General Malfunction. Breakdowns across the total techno-spectrum. Self-repair will not take long, but prepare for high impact landing.’

  ‘You mean we’re going to crash?’ Napoleon yelled as he plummeted towards the sea.

  ‘That is a less refined expression for the imminent catastrophe.’

  ‘We’re going to hit the water, aren’t we, but at this speed it won’t feel like water.’ Napoleon rolled into a ball and braced himself.

  ‘Correct, BB005. It will feel like — ’

  Napoleon thought he heard the word ‘concrete’. And in the next instant he definitely felt as if he’d rammed into a slab of concrete. But then everything went black.

  When he eventually came to, Napoleon was at least twenty metres below the sea. He was quite sure that he’d drowned. But then he realised that he was alive and ‘breathing’ underwater.

  The Submersuit Software is working, he thought-channelled Skin.

  Correct. So too is the Chameli-Shirt, but all contact with Professor Perdu has been disrupted for the moment.

  Napoleon gulped. Maybe the professor had been right. Perhaps he should have exited while he could. There did seem to be something almost evil about MetaBook 7, as if it wanted to destroy him.

  Skin detected Napoleon’s fears, and spoke to him at once. ‘Do not despair, BB005. System Repair is well under way. In the meantime we should be collecting data while we can.’

  ‘What’s to collect?’

  Napoleon peered into the dark water and realised he was close to not one U-boat, but several vessels of different sizes. He swam between them while Skin recorded and analysed.

  ‘That is U-110,’ Skin said about one of the U-boats. ‘Commanded by Fritz-Julius Lemp. This is Operation Primrose. Date: 9 May 1941. Location: south of Iceland.’

  ‘Iceland! But I’m not feeling cold?’

  ‘Maximum heat is coming from the NukeBelt to maintain body temperature.’

  Napoleon found himself next to another kind of U-boat, this one much fatter and wider.

  ‘That is a Type XIV U-boat,’ said Skin. ‘Commonly called a Milk Cow.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘It is a supply vessel. It carries fuel, food and spare torpedoes for attack boats like U-110.’

  ‘So the other U-boats kind of milk it along the way.’

  ‘Correct.’

  As Napoleon drifted between the two U-boats, he was struck by how still and quiet they were.

  ‘It’s creepy, Skin, it’s like they’re dead.’

  ‘That’s exactly what they are trying to be, BB005. They are playing dead.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because there are battleships above, searching for them. Battleships with — ’

  Before Skin could finish, the sea erupted with a massive explosion.

  The noise almost burst Napoleon’s eardrums, and a great shockwave sent him tumbling through the water, slamming him against the Milk Cow. He had barely recovered when there was another explosion, and another, each louder and more powerful than the one before.

  ‘Danger.’ Skin gave a long warning beep. ‘Depth charges’.

  ‘We need to surface,’ Napoleon groaned. He was battered and bruised and feeling very weak.

  ‘Not possible, BB005. Technical System has only been partially repaired.’

  ‘But I’ve got no strength, Skin.’ Napoleon could feel himself sinking. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘A solution is at hand,’ Skin replied after a pause. ‘Please observe the U-boats.’

  They had turned on their engines and were moving.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘They cannot withstand the depth charge explosions. In fact U-110 has been damaged. There is a crack in its hull. It must surface immediately, and we will go with it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By using the Octypads. Activating now.’

  ‘What are — ?’ Before Napoleon could even finish his question, suction pads appeared on his palms.

  ‘Apologies, BB005. I forgot to brief you on this new gadget before mission launch.’

  ‘No sweat, Skin.’ Napoleon looked down at the suction pads. ‘I get what they’re for.’

  As the U-boat drew level with him he reached out and pressed his hands against its hull. The suction pads stuck at once, fixing him firmly to the vessel.

  ‘Going up,’ he said with a great big sigh of relief.

  But the relief didn’t last long.

  As soon as U-110 broke the surface, German sailors poured out of it, diving into the sea. And Napoleon soon saw why. A British destroyer was steaming straight at the U-boat, full speed.

  ‘They’re going to ram us,’ he shouted, trying to break the suction of the Octypads and swim away.

  ‘That does appear to be the case, BB005,’ Skin replied.

  ‘It IS the case,’ Napoleon screamed, the massive battleship bearing down on him. ‘Do something.’

  ‘Not necessary. The approaching destroyer is the HMS Bulldog, and it will not ram the U-110.’

  To Napoleon’s amazement, Skin was right. At the very last minute, Bulldog reduced speed and pulled aside. Soon a boarding party was heading for the U-boat.

  ‘How did you know that was going to happen, Skin?’

  ‘Because it has already happened, BB005. This U-boat is a very important catch for the British. It contains secret papers as well as an Enigma machine.’

  ‘A what machine.’

  ‘Enigma – a special encrypting machine. With it the British will be able to break the code in which the Germans send their messages. This way they will know when and where the U-boats are planning to attack next. And that will help them win the war in the end.’

  Napoleon was trying to take in what Skin was saying, but something else was worrying him. Officers from the HMS Bulldog had boarded U-110 and were climbing all over it. He was still stuck to the U-boat, lying just below the surface of the water. They would see him for sure.

  ‘The Octypads, Skin,’ he said. ‘Deactivate them. We need to sink deeper, out of sight.’

  ‘This is a most historic moment, BB005. We need to record it if possible.’

  ‘Not if it means being caught. And we will be if we stay here.’

  Skin at last agreed. But it was too late. A British sailor had already spotted Napoleon, and soon guns were trained on him.

  ‘Out of the water,’ an officer shouted, throwing down a rope. ‘Or we open fire.’

  Skin deactivated the Octypads and Napoleon grabbed the rope.

  At least you�
��ll get to record your historic event, he thought-channelled to Skin.

  But then a message from Professor Perdu flickered on his Battle Watch.

  Right on cue, an ice-blue shaft of light burst from the sky, striking the sea less than twenty metres away. It quickly scanned across the water towards the U-boat, the British sailors staring in confusion. In a matter of seconds it was fixed on Napoleon, and before anyone could do anything, he vanished.

  ‘Awesome, Prof,’ he shouted as he was sucked up, staring down on the ships and U-boats and sailors all fading from view. ‘That was the best rescue ever.’

  ‘Don’t feel too secure, BB005,’ Professor Perdu replied. ‘This is only a Transit Beam; and I have no idea where it’s going. Furthermore, the link is weak. I may lose you at any moment.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘You’ll be on your own – at least until I can create a proper Exit Beam, and then re-locate you.’

  ‘How long will that take?’

  ‘I honestly have no idea, BB005. All I can say is that — ’

  ‘Prof?’ Napoleon shouted. ‘Can you hear me? Come in, Prof!’

  Silence. The professor had gone.

  Napoleon was all on his own, just as she had said he would be. He was speeding through the Time Ether, locked in the Transit Beam, his head filled with questions.

  Would the prof be able to create a proper Exit Beam? And if she could, would she be able to find him again in the vast spaces of MetaBook 7? Where was this Transit Beam taking him?

  A sudden jolt interrupted Napoleon’s thoughts. A moment later the air was filled with a loud roar and he was being tossed about by a howling wind, needles of ice-cold rain stinging his face.

  ‘We have entered an unidentified Battle Bubble.’ Skin’s voice was almost drowned out by the storm.

  The night was black, but Napoleon soon realised that he was coming down over a raging sea. The waves were mountainous, whipped by the wind.

  ‘Not a good place to land, Skin,’ he shouted into the storm.

  ‘Correct, BB005. However, other landing alternatives are available.’

  Napoleon wondered what Skin was talking about, until he saw a convoy of ships in the distance. They looked like toy ships tossed about in a giant bath tub.

  ‘Can we make it that far?’

  ‘Affirmative. But not by flight. We are losing altitude too quickly.’

  ‘So how do we get there?’

  ‘By sea. Activating MasterSole 4.2.’

  ‘MasterSole?’ Napoleon cried as two skis slid from the bottom of his shoes. ‘I haven’t used that gear for ages.’

  ‘Correct. The last time you accessed the facility was in boarding Sir Francis Drake’s ship in 1587.’

  ‘That’s right, Skin. For the Battle of Cadiz.’ Napoleon braced himself. ‘Let’s do it again.’

  He was about ten metres above the sea. Skin was able to get a short burst from the Boot Boosters, which set up Napoleon on a wave the size of Mount Everest. He shot down the front of it and then skimmed across the wall.

  ‘This is even better than a NoWhen Wave,’ he shouted.

  ‘Please maintain focus, BB005. You must head towards the convoy on your right. There are approximately seven ships in it. You should be able to land on one of them.’

  ‘Gotcha, Skin.’

  Napoleon dropped further down the wave to gain speed. Then he banked hard, shot right to the top and skimmed along the lip for a while, waiting for the right moment to kick off again. He had three ships in his sights, and he headed for them with his heart in his mouth.

  He missed the first by heaps, and although close he missed the second as well. One to go – a merchant steamer. He clenched his fists and gave it all he had.

  The steamer was only small, but it was riding the rough seas well. As Napoleon cut across the wave, the ship was climbing up the face.

  ‘I think we’re going to make it,’ he shouted.

  As the ship reached the peak of the wave, Napoleon shot up the side, hit the lip and was airborne.

  ‘Third time lucky,’ he cheered as he went over the wave and landed on the deck of the steamer.

  But then . . .

  ‘Yikes!’ he yelled as he skated across the icy deck. ‘Help!’ he howled as he headed for a row of containers.

  ‘OH NO! OOMPH! OUCH!’he cried out as he slammed into a wall of steel.

  Napoleon lay in a crumpled heap, aching all over.

  ‘I think I’ve broken every bone in my body,’ he groaned.

  ‘Negative,’ Skin replied. ‘Injury scan indicates bruising only.’

  Napoleon found that hard to believe. He’d never felt so sore in all his life. In fact, he was feeling so sore and sorry for himself that he didn’t notice the person standing over him with a harpoon!

  ‘Don’t move. Stay right where you are – whatever you are.’

  Napoleon looked up. A small face peered down at him. It was a boy a few years older than him.

  ‘What are you?’ The boy jabbed Napoleon with the harpoon.

  ‘Ouch. Watch it. That hurt.’

  ‘It was meant to.’

  ‘Well don’t do it again. I’m already sore enough without you poking holes in me.’

  ‘You speak English?’

  ‘Of course I do. It’s my language.’

  ‘Oh yeah, sure. Pull the other leg; it whistles. Come on; tell me what you are?’

  ‘What do I look like? I’m a boy. Same as you.’

  ‘Oh no; you don’t fool me that easy. You’re an alien, I reckon. An alien in disguise. I saw you with my own eyes. You came flying out of the sky. I don’t know any boy who does that.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I can explain.’

  ‘You bet you can explain. To the captain. Because that’s where we’re going right now.’ The boy jabbed Napoleon again. ‘On your feet.’

  As Napoleon stood, Skin spoke to him via the thought channel. I detect high levels of fear in the boy. He is also hungry, cold to the bone, extremely weak and exhausted.

  Skin was right. The boy’s face was thin and drawn, his lips were blue. His hands were shaking with cold and fear, and he was finding it difficult to stand straight and steady.

  ‘You look sick,’ Napoleon said. ‘I’m not an alien, honest. I’m not even dangerous and I’m not going to hurt you. We don’t need to see the captain.’

  ‘You’re trying to trick me,’ the boy shouted, and lunged with the harpoon.

  But Napoleon sidestepped and the boy stumbled. He staggered a few paces, then dropped the harpoon and fell to his knees. Napoleon caught him just before he slumped to the ground.

  ‘Subject’s biological system is in total collapse,’ Skin reported. ‘Instant revival needed to avoid permanent damage to health. Activating NukeBelt Energy Transferring now.’

  Napoleon had never done an NET before, but he knew the procedure. He placed his hands on the boy’s chest and pressed hard. Almost at once he felt a current of nuclear energy surging through him.

  The colour returned to the boy’s face in a matter of seconds, his eyes opened wide, and he sat up as if he’d been given an electric shock.

  ‘What happened?’ he said. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Nothing much. You collapsed. I made you better, that’s all.’

  ‘I was going to die, I know I was. You saved my life, I reckon. Thanks.’

  Napoleon shrugged. ‘What are you doing out here in the freezing cold?’

  ‘I’m on special night watch.’

  ‘What are you watching for?’

  ‘Icebergs. We’re in the North Sea. It’s my duty. I’ve got to do my duty.’

  ‘Of course.’ Napoleon had an idea. ‘I’ll help you. We can watch together.’

  ‘Not recommended, BB005.’ Skin spoke aloud. ‘You should not become too involved with — ’

  ‘Later, Skin. We’re waiting for the prof to get an Exit Beam. This is as good a place to wait as any.’

  ‘Where did that voice come from?’ the
boy said. ‘Who are you talking to?’

  ‘My . . . Simulation Skin.’ Napoleon knew at once that would mean nothing to the boy. ‘You see, I’m from another time, from the future.’

  ‘From the future?’ The boy wrinkled his brow. ‘How can that be? It would mean I must be from the past. But I feel like I’m in the present.’

  ‘I know,’ said Napoleon. ‘I get confused too. Let’s not worry about it.’ He held out his hand. ‘My name is Napoleon.’

  ‘I’m Eric,’ the boy replied. They shook hands. ‘But I should get back on watch. There are so many dangers out there.’

  They went to the front of the ship. The storm had passed, the wind had died down and the water was much calmer. But there was a fierce beauty about the vast ocean stretching in all directions around them.

  ‘We’ll have to watch for U-boats as well now,’ Eric explained. ‘They come out when the sea calms.’

  The two boys stood together in the cold and searched the wide sea for icebergs and U-boats.

  ‘If you really are from the future,’ Eric said after a while, ‘do we win the war?’

  ‘Yes, you do. It goes on for years yet, but you win in the end.’

  Eric cheered at that. ‘We beat Hitler.’ The grin that spread across his face was so huge that Napoleon couldn’t help grinning as well.

  But their smiles soon vanished when Skin gave a warning beep.

  ‘U-BOATS.’

  Skin’s voice rang out loud and clear.

  ‘Where?’ Eric shouted.

  ‘Two ahead on the port side, one on the starboard at midship.’

  ‘That’s the dangerous one,’ Eric yelled, grabbing a large bell and ringing it loudly. There was a mad scramble. The destroyer accompanying the convoy was sent a message at once to come and help. But it was already too late for the merchant ship.

  It was under attack and there was nothing it could do.

  ‘TORPEDO.’ Skin gave another warning. ‘On the starboard side.’