Deadly Apparition

by G. Ernest Smith

  “Hi!” said Lambert. “This is Crystal’s first time aboard a submarine, so I’m showing her around.”

  “I see,” said Castillo. Crystal smiled shyly. She was almost as tall as Castillo, had a delicate fine-featured face with a small mouth. Her complexion was flawless cream and her hair was rich cocoa. It streamed away from her face like a banner in the wind.

  “She asks a lot of questions I can’t answer,” said Lambert. “But I’m sure you can.”

  “I’ll try,” said Castillo.

  Crystal looked at Castillo self consciously and said, “Why is Kansas a boat and not a ship?”

  “Oh! Well, the first submarines in the Navy were less than 125 feet long. By definition that makes them boats. But as they got bigger, the Navy continued to call them boats. Kansas is 377 feet long and almost 8000 metric tons. That’s way bigger than a boat, but we still call her a boat. It’s become a tradition now.”

  “I see,” said McConnell. “Why is a ship always a her and not a him?”

  Castillo laughed. “You got me there! I suppose because most crews are men and ships are kind of mysterious temperamental creatures.”

  McConnell and Lambert both smiled. “But you do have a woman on your crew. Your navigation officer.”

  “Lieutenant Maria Guerrero. Yes. There are a few women on active submarine service now and we have one of them. She’s very good at what she does.”

  Something caught Castillo’s eye. It was a boy bundled in a bulky brown coat running down the nearby beach with a dog. Behind him was what looked like a primitive vine-covered tavern or inn made of stacked gray stone and a slate roof. It looked like it could have emerged from the ancient outcropping of rock behind it. It blended perfectly with its surroundings. How long had it been there? A century? Two? On a grassy hill above the rocks was a tall steel tower with microwave horns at the top. A cell tower. Just another example of the old juxtaposed with the new. They all watched the boy and his dog run and laugh in the straw-colored sunlight, perfectly mirrored in the water. He seemed to notice the submarine and stopped running. He shaded his eyes with one hand and waved at them, and Castillo, Lambert and McConnell smiled and waved back.

  “So Crystal, what do you do?” asked Castillo.

  “I authored the test plan for this mission. I had lots of help, of course, from QVR as well as Navy people.”

  With that accent she was obviously English, thought Castillo. She seemed very different than Susan. Crystal was taller and thinner. Susan’s face was very expressive. Her eyebrows were always dancing when she told a story, but Crystal’s seemed to be expressionless, in fact, she barely moved her lips when she talked. She would make a great ventriloquist, thought Castillo. “So what do you do during a test?”

  “I initial each test step as it is performed and record when we deviate from the test, I have to record how we deviated and why. I sign off, then the senior test conductor has to sign off on it and then the Navy has to sign off on it.” Then she added. “That would be you, sir.”

  “Please, call me Don.” He wanted to ask her if she had ever tried ventriloquism, but he thought it would probably come across as impertinent, bordering on disrespectful. “Do you expect us to deviate?”

  “Oh sure. This is very complex equipment. We’re bound to run into something.”

  He turned to Lambert and said, “Do you see any problems for tomorrow’s test, Susan?”

  “No,” replied Lambert. “But I don’t like the communication arrangements. When Apparition is activated, we have no communications link to the outside world at all. We’re essentially cut off.”

  “True,” agreed Castillo. “Not the best situation to be in.”

  “When things go wrong with something like this,” said Lambert, “they tend to go wrong fast. We could be in big trouble before any observer knows about it.”

  Castillo didn’t like this possibility. “But some of the tests are designed to test different communication devices and procedures. Correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, let’s hope that at least one of them works.” He playfully punched Lambert on the shoulder and said, “Stay positive!”

  She chuckled and saluted. “Yes, sir!”

  • • •

  The nerve center for the Apparition test was at a QVR facility near Glasgow. The project had taken over a large open room on the third floor of one of the R & D buildings in the QVR industrial compound near the Glasgow airport. Before they could use the room as a Navy test monitoring facility however, they’d had to beef up security and install some specialized communications equipment. They’d been rushed to get all the modifications done on time. Even now, one day from the first official Apparition test, the room looked like chaos. Workmen and technicians were still hooking up cable and testing screens with colorful test patterns. People rushed around the room, shouting requests for information or file access. There were civilians, U.S. Navy personnel in blue uniforms and Royal British Navy personnel in similar blue uniforms.

  At the back of the room on a raised platform were four U.S. Navy admirals sitting in comfortable chairs along with three Royal British Navy admirals. Apparition was a very important cutting edge technology and everyone understood the ramifications if it succeeded. It would change naval warfare forever, and everyone wanted a piece of it. After a successful test everyone would be rushing to claim credit for this groundbreaking technology whether they had been a part of it or not. Such was the politics of the military.

  The admirals were all watching the large overhead screen showing a view of the Firth of Clyde. It appeared to be a satellite shot of the firth, dotted with ships. Kansas was clearly marked, as was Connecticut and all the observer ships, authorized and unauthorized.

  Admiral Baynes was addressing the other admirals on the platform. “Peterson thinks that tango 3 is a Chinese Yuan, tango 1 is a Kilo of unknown nationality, tango 2 is the Vigilant, a French Triomphant class boat, tango 4 is a Russian Akula and tango 5 is another Kilo of unknown nationality.”

  “Quite a crowd!” said one of the British admirals. He pulled at his large nose and said, “Word has leaked about this thing.”

  “And more are arriving by the minute,” grumbled Baynes. With his jowls and darkly ringed eyes he resembled a disgruntled raccoon. “We also have a flotilla of surface ships. The usual Russian and Chinese trawlers and one Spanish destroyer.”

  “Do you have a plan for losing the looky-loos?” asked O’Keefe.

  “Yes. Kansas, Connecticut and Ambush are going to execute a ‘stop-n-drop’.”

  “Do you think it will work?” asked O’Keefe.

  “If it’s done right.” But Baynes’s gray expression was anything but confident.

  Chapter 3

  “Cap’n, this is the XO in the control room. We’re three miles from rendezvous with Connecticut.”

  “Very well. Prepare to dive,” said Castillo into his headset.

  Immediately they heard the command blare from the 1MC loudspeakers.

  Now, prepare to dive! Prepare to dive!

  Then they heard the dive warning alarm.

  WHOOOP! WHOOOP!

  Castillo turned to Lambert, McConnell and the watch and ordered, “Clear the bridge!”

  The watch said, “Aye, sir! Clear the bridge!” He immediately began unplugging his headset and securing the plexiglass spray shields.

  “After you, ladies,” said Castillo gesturing to the ladder. McConnell went down first, followed by Lambert and then Castillo. The petty officer of the watch came down last and spun the dogging wheel on the hatch to secure it tightly.

  They went to the control room where Castillo took his command chair in the center of the room. Lambert said, “Well, we’ll leave you now. You’re going to be busy.”

  “No, stay,” said Castillo. “You won’t be in the way. I enjoy explaining things. It’s the instructor in me.”

  Several of the men smiled at Castillo. Mason Taylor said, “I think he just enjoys female compa
ny.”

  “Oh, pipe down,” said Castillo. “Pilot, take us down to 100 feet.”

  “100 feet aye, sir,” repeated a man setting in the front of the control room.

  “He used to be called the helmsman, but with the Virginia class boats they began calling him pilot and the bow planesman is now called the copilot,” explained Castillo.

  “I see,” said McConnell nodding. The deck under them began to tilt downward slightly.

  “And with all the automation and with the Navy constantly pushing to save money and increase efficiency, we have done away with many positions. For example, Virginia class boats no longer have a diving officer or a maneuvering officer. The con officer talks directly to the pilot and the throttleman in maneuvering now. No redundant relaying of commands up and down the line.”

  “Well, that makes sense,” said McConnell.

  The control room was very dark, but every man’s face was lit by the ghostly luminescence of the flat screen before him. Some men stood, but most were sitting at keyboards and counters talking into headsets. The screens displayed a dizzying number of graphs, plots and alphanumeric readouts. Behind the quiet whispers and murmurings of operators there was an undercurrent of electronic whining and the soft purring of blowers. The room smelled of electronics and sweat. Every square inch of the ceiling was covered with pipes, conduits and junction boxes. Susan Lambert looked around and recognized some of the people here. She had met some of them before on previous test missions. She waved at Maria Guerrero who was leaning over the large horizontal navigation plotting station in the back of the room. Guerrero smiled and waved back. Guerrero looked like she had two small display screens mounted on her nose. It was only the reflection of her display monitor in her rectangular glasses.

  “Virginia boats have a very open layout in the control room because we don’t have a periscope, which used to dominate the control room.”

  “No periscope?” asked McConnell, surprised.

  “You have a photonics mast. Right?” said Lambert.

  “Thats right,” smiled Castillo.

  “See? I remembered something from my last mission on Kansas.”

  “Very good!” said Castillo.

  “What’s a photon mast?” asked McConnell.

  “A photonics mast,” corrected Castillo. “It’s a mast we send up with high definition cameras and sensors. It can tell us way more than a periscope ever could.”

  “We’re level at 100 feet, sir,” reported the pilot.

  “Very well,” responded Castillo. He pointed at the large view screen on the bulkhead in front of the control room and said, “There is the navigation display. It shows where Kansas is and her surroundings.” Kansas was a small icon in the center of the display with nearby land masses outlined in bright green. It resembled a standard GPS moving map display. “The small red blip ahead of us there is the Connecticut. And the one next to her is the Ambush, a British boat.” Castillo removed his ball cap and wiped at his brow with his left hand and said, “And our first job is to disappear!”

  “Disappear!” said McConnell doubtfully.

  “Not really, Crystal. But to the watchers we’ll seem to disappear.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll go very quiet.”

  Crystal said nothing.

  “We’re going to go quieter than a falling snowflake.”

  “Really?” said Crystal doubtfully.

  “This whole deck structure is on shock absorbers. It doesn’t contact the hull anywhere. Very little sound we make gets transmitted through the hull. And we have very quiet pump jet propulsion and…”

  “Sir, Connecticut is on the Gertie.”

  The Gertie was an acoustic voice device which could be used ship-to-ship at close range. Castillo held up a finger of pause and picked up what looked like a telephone receiver and said, “Put ’em through.” Castillo heard a click then a hiss. “Hello, this is Kansas.”

  “Hey, you ready to do this?” It was Peterson.

  “We’re ready. Do you have the play?”

  “We’ve got the play. Geoff Baldridge from Ambush is on the line with us too.”

  “Hello, Commander Castillo,” said a Brittish voice. “Baldridge here. We’ve got the play. Are you the quarterback?”

  Castillo was surprised that a Brit would know what a quarterback was. “Yes, I’ll be calling the play. I want Ambush to take the lead and Connecticut to follow. We are going to form up on Connecticut in close formation all the way to the drop point. I want direct communication between the pilots so there won’t be any mistakes. I want to make about twelve knots.”

  “Only twelve knots?” asked Baldridge.

  “Yes, Kansas has some hull attachments, and I’m not sure how that’s going to affect our flow noise at high speed. I know our unauthorized observers are going to be recording us with every device they have, trying to get a clue about what we’re doing. I don’t want to give them too much to analyze.”

  “Ah! got it!” responded Baldridge.

  “Okay,” said Peterson. “Let’s do this!”

  “Let’s go,” said Castillo and disconnected. He turned to Mason Taylor and said, “Rig for ultraquiet.”

  Taylor picked up a microphone and immediately his voice was heard in the overhead speakers:

  Now, rig the ship for ultraquiet. Rig for ultraquiet. All hands not on active watch retire to quarters. All hands not on active watch retire to quarters.

  Susan Lambert and Crystal McDonnell looked askance at Castillo. Castillo smiled and said, “Here’s the part where we become like a falling snow flake. All unnecessary fans, blowers and machinery will be turned off, and all nonessential personnel will go to their quarters and read or sleep.”

  “Should we…” whispered Lambert.

  “Stay right here,” said Castillo. “You’re okay. But if you make any noise, you’ll be shot.” Crystal McConnell’s brown eyes enlarged. It’s the closest Castillo had yet seen to an actual facial expression on her.

  Lambert said, “He’s kidding.”

  “Are you?” asked McConnell.

  Castillo nodded. “The Navy and QVR would probably frown on such a thing.”

  The three ship formation left the firth and emerged into the Irish Sea. Admiral Baynes had instructed the task force ships what to do. A frigate and two destroyers began cruising in circles near the unauthorized observers at flank speed.

  There are basically two types of sonar used by the Navy. The first type is the passive type. Passive sonar listens for noises made by ships or oceanic installations. Passive sonar is very sensitive to the sounds a ship makes as it passes through the water. There are noises made by the water flowing over her hull. These are called flow noises. There are noises made by her propeller. The faster a propeller turns, the more it cavitates and creates a noisy turbulence behind the ship. There are also mechanical sounds like pump noises, valve noises, vent noises and even sometimes human noises: the clattering of mess hall pans and hatches slamming shut.

  Admiral Baynes rendered the enemy passive sonar useless when he ordered the Navy ships to cruise at high speed near the unauthorized observer ships. Their sonar operators would not be able to hear anything but the racket raised by the task force ships. That solved one problem.

  The second type of sonar is called active sonar. It works by sending out a powerful sound pulse or ping and reading the echo returned by another ship’s hull. This was an accurate way of seeing what was in the water, but most sub skippers didn’t like to use it because it also gave away the position of the ship sending out the pulse. If a skipper was trying to hide, this would give him away.

  Castillo wondered which of the boats shadowing them would ping. Some one would have to. It would probably be one of the surface ships. They are not as concerned about staying hidden. He didn’t have to wait long.

  PING!

  He heard it through the hull and saw it register on the sonar displays. It looked to be one of the trawlers, but he wasn’t worried.
When the enemy observers analyzed the return, they would see two submarines in formation, not three. Connecticut and Kansas were traveling in parallel less than fifty feet apart. They looked like one submarine on a sonar display.

  This tight formation was made possible by the new wide aperture sonar array Kansas was using. They also had the laser system on the photonics mast allowing them to get very accurate distancing information. The Ambush’s pilot was steering a course for an undersea trough formation. A mile behind her was the Connecticut with the smaller Kansas in her shadow. Kansas’s pilot only had to think about one thing: maintaining a fifty foot separation from Connecticut. Beads of sweat formed on the pilot’s forehead as he concentrated on his displays. Behind him a technician called out distances. “48…49…49…49…50…50…50…” Because all vents and blowers had been secured during the ultraquiet run, the air was beginning to get warm and stuffy. The odor of sweat was becoming more pronounced.

  They continued like this for what seemed an eternity. The pilot grew fatigued and handed off to the copilot who had a control stick identical to the pilot’s.

  Finally Castillo picked up his receiver and said, “Okay, Engine room, get ready. We’re approaching point bravo.”

  “Ready, sir,” replied a voice.

  As soon as the Connecticut and Kansas were both shielded from sonar by a trough formation, Castillo gave the command and Kansas stopped, dropped and hovered just feet off the sea floor. This was made possible by Kansas’s auxiliary maneuvering devices at the bow and stern. This allowed them to keep their station in shallow water, which was what Virginia class submarines were designed to do. They were intended to take SEAL teams into shallow water and wait for them to return if necessary. A new weapon in the war on terrorism.

  Ambush and Connecticut continued on course without so much as a twitch.

  Kansas waited silently. “Do you think they fell for it?” asked Taylor.