Dangerous Ground

by Larry Bond

  She was shouting now and didn’t even look at Jerry or Lopez or Reynolds. A few other officers, including the XO, clustered at the door, but didn’t seem eager to come in.

  “There’s no space. I’m constantly bumping into people or things I’m not supposed to touch. There’s no privacy and too much noise. I can’t get in touch with my office. I can’t even make a phone call! I cannot imagine why any of you stand for it!”

  Master Chief Reynolds, like the others, listened to her tirade. When she paused, he asked, “If you hate being on board so much, why are you here? Why didn’t you send someone else?”

  “Because it was my idea. Because I’m the best-qualified person to do the job and to see that it is done properly,” she replied intensely.

  “That’s what every sailor on Memphis would say, if you asked them. They volunteered for sub duty, and they had to work hard just to get here.”

  When she didn’t answer, Reynolds added, “It’s a much easier life ashore, and the pay’s a lot better too, especially for men this well trained. Each and every crew member chose to be here, in spite of all the discomforts and the separation from their loved ones, because they know it’s a job that needs to be done. And they want to make sure the job is done right. Patriotism isn’t dead in this Navy, Dr. Patterson, of that I can assure you.”

  Patterson remained silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the COB. “You should have been in politics.” A slight smile flashed across her face as she softened. “I see your point, Master Chief. And ... I admit that I may have misjudged the people on this sub.”

  The COB responded, “You can work with these men, if you’ll only give them a chance. And if you’re willing to work with them, then play with them as well. Don’t the people in the White House have a party every once in a while?” asked Reynolds with a grin.

  Patterson sighed, steeling herself, then turned to the XO, standing in the doorway. “Commander, is that invitation to the Bluenose ceremony still open?”

  ”Of course, ma’am,” replied Bair. “We’d be honored if you would join us.”

  At 1515 that afternoon Memphis came to a complete stop and Davy Jones was brought aboard. Jerry watched as an elderly man dressed in a white robe and bedecked in seaweed, actually plastic ivy, climbed down from the forward escape trunk. In his hand was a scroll case, encrusted with seashells and starfish. Bair greeted him at the trunk and escorted the King’s herald to the CO’s stateroom to examine the petitions of the neophytes. An hour later, the submarine officially crossed the Arctic Circle.

  ”All warm bodies are to muster in the crew’s mess,” squawked the IMC. “The honor guard is to muster by the forward escape trunk, to welcome His or Majesty aboard.”

  Jerry, Emily, Patterson, and the other warm bodies were herded into the crew’s mess. Most of them looked nervous, some were afraid. Emily was also a bit apprehensive, but Patterson looked calm and collected.

  Everyone, as ordered, wore swim trunks, and the ladies were attractively but modestly attired in one-piece suits and a pair of shorts. Patterson’s was blue, Emily’s green with stripes. Both were new, obviously purchased for she this special occasion.

  Jerry couldn’t help but notice that Joanna Patterson was rather attractive in a one-piece bathing suit. With her ash-blonde hair in a ponytail, she looked far more feminine than usual. At that thought, Jerry looked away, as he didn’t want to get caught staring at her. She would probably grow fangs and bite his head off.

  Emily, on the other hand, was striking. Although she was smaller than Patterson, she had one hell of a figure. Remembering that these two ladies were the only females on board and that he hadn’t seen any other members of the fair sex for some time, he tried to be objective in his appraisal. Sidelong study of both confirmed that they were lookers. Jerry caught some of the others studying their guests as well and hoped this wasn’t going to complicate things.

  Unexpectedly, Emily turned and her eyes met Jerry’s. For a brief moment, they simply looked at each other, and then Emily suddenly blushed and turned away. Jerry was also embarrassed and wondered if she had read his thoughts—or if they were written all over his face. He didn’t have long to think about it, for a loud voice announced: “ALL STAND FOR HIS MAJESTY, BOREAS REX, RULER OF THE NORTH WIND AND SOVEREIGN OF ALL THE FROZEN REACHES.”

  From the back of the crew’s mess, King Boreas walked in wearing a very regal-looking red and gold cape; a seashell crown rested on his noble brow. His Majesty sported a huge white beard, which must have required a master engineer to construct, since it was made from cotton balls. It didn’t take Jerry very long to see that Master Chief Reynolds had the honor of playing Boreas on this run. Jerry felt a little relieved that the COB would be in charge, but that would soon change.

  Following Boreas was his Royal Consort, the Queen of the Snows. Jerry had no idea who was playing the role of the Queen, but whoever it was, they did a pretty good job. The white wig with sparkling garland, matching boa and handbag, and a pair of pink fish sunglasses made whoever it was look more like a cheap movie actress. In tow behind the Queen was the Royal Baby. This kid was a real whiner and acted more like a chimpanzee than a baby. As the royal offspring got closer, Jerry saw that it was Lenny Berg. Behind him were Bill Washburn as the Prime Minister, dressed in a simple toga and carrying a satchel of scrolls, and Senior Chief Foster as the Captain of the Guard. Foster was in some sort of brown leather biker outfit, complete with a real-enough-looking short sword and scabbard. It made him look quite menacing, as it was intended to.

  With his two roommates, his division chief, and the COB making up most of the royal entourage, Jerry suspected a conspiracy against him. He then remembered Glover’s earlier comment about a special procedure for new officers who used to be aviators. I’m toast, Jerry thought ruefully.

  As Boreas walked haughtily down the small aisle in the crew’s mess, he carefully gauged the hot-blooded neophytes. As he passed Jerry and the two women, he paused a moment to examine the three more closely. A deep frown appeared on his face. As the rest of the Royal Court went by, each looked directly at Jerry. The Queen also stared intently at the two ladies, flicking her boa around in an agitated manner. Foster had the most wicked expression Jerry had ever seen, a devious cross between a sinister sneer and a gloating grin. All this confirmed Jerry’s growing fear that he was going to be the special guest at today’s festivities. Right now, he thought, it sucks to be me.

  Hardy was waiting up at the front of the mess, and as Boreas approached, he bowed and announced, “Welcome, Your Majesty, to my ship. My crew and I are honored that you have consented, once again, to grace us with your presence.”

  “Greetings, Captain,” boomed Reynolds. “It has indeed been too long since we last met. And I am pleased to see you and those of the Royal Order of the Bluenose once again in my realm.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness. We are but humble servants whose duties have blessed us with the opportunity to travel yet again to the far north.” Hardy was laying it on pretty thick and Jerry saw that he wore a broad smile as he played his role. This was a side of Hardy that Jerry had never seen.

  The pleasantries continued as Boreas introduced the remaining members of the Royal Court. Each offered his respects to Hardy, then assumed his place behind the King. After the introductions were completed, Bair and Davy Jones showed up at Hardy’s side with Jones carrying the sealed scroll case. Kneeling before Boreas, he offered the case to the King. “Excuse me your Majesty. Sire, here are the petitions of all the warm bodies present.”

  “Ahhh, thank you, my loyal herald,” replied Reynolds loudly. “You are quite right. We must proceed with the business at hand.” Taking the petitions, he handed them to Washburn, who, along with Foster, began to examine them. Reynolds then clasped Hardy on the shoulder and pulled him over to Patterson and Davis. Gesturing toward them with his massive hand, Reynolds asked, “Before we begin, Captain, perhaps you would care to explain this? It is most irregular for females to be aboa
rd a submersible vessel, is it not?”

  “Uh, yes, Your Majesty, you are correct.” Hardy’s response seemed awkward, shuffling his feet, as if he were reluctant to answer the King’s questions. “You see, Sire, my ruler ordered me to bring them along in the pursuit of our duties. They are crucial to my ship’s ability to fulfill his wishes.”

  “I see,” Reynolds said sternly. “We shall have to review their petitions closely.”

  Returning to the front of the mess, Reynolds drew himself up and formally addressed Hardy. “Captain, as these warm bodies are under your command, I desire to know your assessment of their worthiness to enter my realm.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Hardy turned to face the warm bodies, a hard look on his face. Then, with a slow wave of his arm, he shouted, “Sire, they are all unworthy bastards!” The force of his statement caused Emily to audibly draw in her breath. Hearing her gasp, Hardy looked directly at her. “Correction, Your Highness, all but two are unworthy bastards! Those two are unworthy wenches!”

  Patterson erupted indignantly, “Now, see here, Capt. . .”

  “SILENCE!” roared Reynolds. His bellow was so loud that it actually echoed inside the crew’s mess. Even Patterson was taken aback by the sheer power in his voice. Reynolds then looked around menacingly at everyone, to make sure they understood that he meant business. Sighing, he turned once again to Hardy. “Captain, I appreciate your candor in this matter. But as their lord, you must make at least a perfunctory attempt at defending them.”

  “Of course, King Boreas. My apologies.” Hardy then proceeded to testify that these warm bodies hadn’t sunk the ship yet, although their ignorance had nearly succeeded on numerous occasions. Furthermore, they were barely adequate in the performance of their duties and their exercises. Hardy ranted on for a few more minutes about their general inability to do anything right and concluded that they were totally unworthy in and of themselves. Their only credible defense, Hardy concluded, was for them to throw themselves at the mercy of the King’s court. Reynolds listened with rapt attention, looking very sagelike in his robes and fake beard.

  “Very well, Captain. I concede their unworthiness,” stated Boreas. “However, I am willing to be merciful to these warm bodies and allow them one last opportunity to prove that they are indeed worthy to enter my domain. We shall begin the . . .”

  All of a sudden, there arose a commotion behind Reynolds. Washburn and Foster appeared to be shocked and angered by one of the petitions and their agitated discussion interrupted the King. A very annoyed Boreas turned toward his two courtiers and swore, “By my beard, you try my patience! What are you two babbling about?”

  Both Washburn and Foster quickly came over with the petition and presented it to Boreas. “Your Majesty,” spoke Washburn hesitantly as he knelt before Reynolds. “There is a warm body present that has openly admitted to being affiliated with a most heinous association. I—I—” Washburn seemed unable to finish, so appalled by what he had read.

  “Please go on, Prime Minister,” commanded Reynolds. Jerry had a sinking feeling that there were talking about him.

  “Sire,” spoke Foster with significant disgust. “The warm body in question is an aviator.”

  Jerry watched as Reynolds’ hands curled up into clenched fists. Slowly and rigidly, he turned around and cast a chilling gaze on the warm bodies. “Do you mean to tell me there is a member of that league of arrogant scoundrels who routinely trespasses on my realm without so much as a ‘By your leave!’” Reynolds was shaking as he spoke and Jerry noticed that everyone near him had started to move as far away as they could, given the tight quarters.

  “WHERE is this wretch, my Captain of the Guard?” demanded the King angrily. Foster wasted no time in pointing Jerry out. With slow, deliberate steps, Reynolds marched toward him.

  Oh shit, this is not going to be good, Jerry thought as Reynolds approached and towered over him. Jerry gulped as two large hands grasped his arms and lifted him off the deck. Once the two were at eye level, with Jerry dangling almost a foot off the deck, Reynolds spoke in a hushed voice through clenched lips, “You have much to account for, flying man!”

  Jerry could only nod his head, amazed at Reynolds’ strength and a little afraid of what was to come. Reynolds gently put Jerry back down and released him. Both Davis and Patterson watched in awe, their eyes the size of saucers, as they witnessed Reynolds easily lifting Jerry off his feet. Turning away with a graceful swing of his cape, Boreas commanded, “Let the trials begin! Captain of the Guard, escort these unworthy warm bodies to the torpedo room.”

  For the next two hours, Jerry and the other warm bodies underwent the trials as prescribed by King Boreas. None of them were particularly harmful to the body. Most were simply uncomfortable, but everything revolved around being cold, somehow, somewhere.

  The first trial was relatively simple. All a warm body had to do was crawl down the twenty-two-foot length of a torpedo tube and rub their nose on the muzzle door. Of course, with the forward end of each torpedo tube exposed to the sea, the temperature in the tube was a bit on the nippy side. It was a cold trip down and back, as well as a little claustrophobic.

  The part that Jerry hated the most was backing his way out of the tube once he had reached the muzzle door. In order to get anywhere, Jerry had to arch his back so that he could shuffle backward. This brought his bare back in contact with the frigid guide rail at the top of the tube. He yelped more than once.

  As Jerry had been warned earlier, many of the trials involved the use of ice in a number of very unpleasant ways. In one particularly devious trial, he had to transport two ice cubes placed under his armpits from the back of the engine room to the spherical array access trunk: the full length of the boat. “This will clip his wings,” remarked the Royal Baby as he placed the ice under Jerry’s arms. Unfortunately, the ice cubes on his first attempt were too small, and they melted before he could finish the course. Obviously, Jerry was still too hot-blooded to enter the frozen realm. He was sent back to the engine room to try again.

  Midway through the trials, he had had significant doubts whether he’d make it. The low point was during Captain Hardy’s favorite game: bobbing for ice cubes. In this trial, Jerry was pitted against another warm body and the two would submerge their faces into a large container of water filled with ice cubes. The first to grab an ice cube with their teeth won. The loser had to keep on playing till they defeated someone. Jerry proved to be particularly inept at this game, and ended up going seven rounds before finally managing to beat a junior petty officer from E Division. Even Patterson beat Jerry. It was with a bruised and frozen ego that Jerry heard the crew cheer, “Broomhilda! Broomhilda!” as Patterson emerged first with an ice cube clutched firmly in her mouth. He’d be hearing about this ignominy for the rest of the patrol.

  With most of the trials over, the warm bodies started to congregate in the auxiliary machinery room for the baptism. As Jerry entered the twenty-one-man bunkroom, just forward of the auxiliary machinery room and aft of the torpedo room, the Prime Minister and the Captain of the Guard brought him up short. “His Majesty, the King, requires your presence, warm body,” said Foster malevolently. Washburn and Foster then grabbed Jerry’s arms and led him into the torpedo room.

  “Ahhh, excellent. You have found him,” remarked Reynolds, pleased. “Well, done. Well done. Bring him here.”

  Jerry was ushered up to King Boreas, where the Captain of the Guard pushed him to his knees. “Show the proper respect to His Majesty, knave!”

  The rough handling by Foster was starting to anger Jerry. Foster’s behavior was becoming abusive and even in such ceremonies there were limits. Jerry sensed that Reynolds also knew that Foster had gone overboard and ordered him to back off. “Stand easy, my Captain!”

  Foster moved away from Jerry, who was allowed to rise and face the King.

  “According to the reports of the Royal Court,” began Reynolds, “you have acquitted yourself well in the trials. But t
here is still one issue that I need to have satisfied before I grant you entry into my realm.” Turning away from Jerry, he paced about a bit, rubbing his beard slowly, as if he were trying to find the right words.

  “What issue would that be?” asked Jerry. Belatedly he added, “Your Majesty” after Foster glared at him.

  “It’s rather simple really,” said Reynolds, pausing as he faced Jerry. “Are you an aviator or a mariner?”

  “I was an aviator, but I’m no longer qualified to fly. I’m now a submariner.”

  “He lies, Your Highness!” screeched Foster. “I recommend that he be given the truth serum!”

  “Hmmm, perhaps you are right, Captain.” Reynolds then motioned to Washburn to come forward. In his hands was a steel bucket. “Prime Minister, administer the serum to this warm body so that we can see if he is indeed telling us the truth or not.”

  Washburn lifted the bucket, handed it to Jerry, and ordered, “Drink!” Jerry took the bucket and looked closely at the contents. The liquid inside had a dark orangeish-brown color and it had an oily sheen to it. A light brown foam clung to the edges. It looked absolutely disgusting and it smelled just as bad.