Audio Script

RANDY (irritated)

You damned southerners are too easy to wake up in the morning. How about some coffee?

PHYLLIS

I knew you'd be wanting a packet, so I brought you one.

DAN (with irritation)

Well, Cheryl, your experiment has top billing today. And, as always, we are at your beck and call.

CHERYL

Thank you, Commander. I'll try not to get underfoot, or be too big of a burden.

PHYLLIS

Don't pay any attention to Dan, his wife never did teach him respect. The only thing he can sweet talk before noon is an airplane.

DAN

Hey, I resemble that remark.

JIM

Red Sonja's hot this morning.

RANDY (chuckling)

No shit! I think I'll go look at that automated reentry circuit, just to stay out of the crossfire.

CHERYL

Phyllis, how did you get your nickname?

PHYLLIS

What nickname?

CHERYL

Red Sonja.

JIM

Oh shit. I better go help J.B., I can see trouble brewing.

PHYLLIS

Sit down and do your telemetries, Rain. Red Sonja isn't my nickname, it's my call sign. Pilots don't use their names on the radio, that would be far too confusing. So we each get our own call sign, some are easier to explain then others.

CHERYL

So, how did you get yours?

JIM

Oh God.

PHYLLIS

Well, I didn't start with this one. I was on a mail run to a carrier.... the ....

JIM

The Lincoln.

PHYLLIS

Right, the Lincoln. Anyhow. While I was doing this mail run I met this rather handsome lieutenant, more like he ran me over. I was still learning to cope with this man's Navy, so after he knocked us both down, I jumped back up pulled him to his feet, then....

JIM

Broke his nose with a right cross. And, I might add, was responsible for said pilot being grounded for a week.

PHYLLIS

Yes, I know. Well, a couple of months later in the Norfolk officer's club we bumped into each other again. It took about an hour before we recognized each other. The lieutenant asked me if I had to defeat all the men I had dinner with, just like Red Sonja. Somehow his comment got around, and I started getting called Red Sonja.

JIM (almost to self)

And I ended up with a second broken nose.

CHERYL

I didn't know you two......

PHYLLIS

We're not. Oh, I guess there have been some opportunities, but not Rain and me.

CHERYL

Why Rain?

RANDY

Because, every single time he was supposed to fly in school, it would rain. The gunny asked him if he was a natural born troublemaker or a rainmaker. Thus, the Rainmaker.

CHERYL

What do they call you, Randy?

RANDY

J.B. Because, after our first liberty at Pensacola, I got caught with a bottle of JB in my locker. The shit of it was I was too drunk to remember the gunny's lecture. Dan is the only one I know who has an unglorified call sign. He's just Ferg.

JIM

Two minutes to the terminator. Let's try to get Cheryl's project started as soon after that as possible.

[NARRATOR]

Randy looked over to Jim and thought to himself that it was time to get to work. As he made his way down to the lower deck and started up the computer, he wished that he had not majored in electrical designing in college. As he started looking at the computer terminal, he keyed in the self-check results. He read the "No information available" on the line for the auto reentry circuit, moved the cursor down to the fault, and keyed in the command for the computer to tell him where the faulty board was. After a couple of minutes the computer responded with a "Circuit fault not locatable."

RANDY (to self)

Now I've got to find this the hard way.

[NARRATOR]

Randy turned around and faced the bank of access panels, shook his head, and started the long and tedious operation of locating the faulty board. He had to open each panel, pull out the carriages, and examine each board one at a time. He remembered hearing that it took the ground crews nearly six hours to inspect all of the boards. It was only the second panel set that he was checking when he found a panel that had several burned capacitors and IC chips. He was feeling lucky as he quickly read the board number and looked up the use of that panel in the maintenance manual. Auto pilot control and landing were the program functions that appeared nearly completely burned.

RANDY (uneasy)

Rain, we might have a problem on the reentry system. Can I see you down here?

JIM (serious)

On my way. Red... Phyllis, you have the con.

PHYLLIS

Aye, aye, sir.

JIM

Ferg, finish eating and get Cheryl set up. Then catch up with J.B. and me.

[NARRATOR]

Jim was now all military, all professional. Without saying a word he was letting his officers know that the civilian, Cheryl, was to be kept busy and oblivious to any possible problem. Until he had all of the information and decided to tell her.

DAN

Okay, Rain.

[NARRATOR]

As Jim entered the lower deck, he found Randy floating above an open access panel. He pulled himself quickly along the room to Randy's side. Randy was hooking a probe to the circuit boards in the panel and was shaking his head. There was obviously a great deal of frustration involved.

JIM

What's up?

RANDY (frustrated)

Christ! This board is completely gone. I can't even start to trace it with the probe. See this chip here?

JIM

Yeah.

RANDY

That's the one that's supposed to land this tub if we have to go auto.

JIM

I'm no computer geek, but that looks burned all to hell to me.

RANDY

You got that right boss. Want me to try running a bypass or try fixing the damn thing?

JIM

What can it affect as it is?

RANDY

I have no idea. I can't tell where the problem originated. I have no idea where to even trace the problems to. Everything on the circuit is giving odd readings. So there's no way of saying what else is screwed.

JIM (short pause)

Red, set me up with a PL with mission control. What I have to say to mission control doesn’t need to be heard by the entire world.

PHYLLIS

Yes, sir. One private line coming right up.

[NARRATOR]

Jim watched as Randy futilely attempted to trace the origin of the fault. The longer Randy worked on the problem, the more frustrated he became. He liked being able to fix things quickly and look like a hero.

PHYLLIS

Skipper, I have Tom Marshal on button seven.

[FX: Button being depressed.]

JIM

Tom, this is Rain.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

What's up with this PL stuff? You're making some of the people down here nervous.

JIM

I'll apologize later. I think we have a real problem on this reentry circuit. It's completely cooked, and we can't seem to start a probe trace to locate the origin.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Well, let me see..... I have my computers running a trace now.

[FX: Pops and zaps of shorting electrical circuits.]

RANDY

Shit, Shit, Shit! Whatever he's doing shut it down!

JIM

Wha.... Shut it down, Tom! Shut it down now! Were starting to flame.

[FX: Shorting noises stops, original sounds return]

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

It's down. What's your status Atlantis?

JIM

Stand by while I have J.B. check it out.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Copy, mission control standing by.

JIM

What happened J.B.?

RANDY

Well, aside from getting the shit scared out of me, I'm not completely sure.

[NARRATOR]

Randy was checking the rest of the boards. As he pulled out a rack of several boards, the still smoking board that had gone was clear to both men.

JIM

Mission control, this is Atlantis.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Go ahead Atlantis.

JIM

We lost another auto pilot board. What the hell did you do down there, Tom?

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

I just ran a self-check on your systems. Rain... this may pose a problem. If the computer is not working properly, your telemetries might not be correct. Can you run a manual set?

JIM

I'll have to get back up to the con, but I can.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Do that, and let's maintain this PL. I'm showing that all manual systems are operational. Do you confirm that?

JIM

All manual circuits are functional.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

I'll be here. Mission control standing by.

JIM

Roger, out. J.B.?

[FX: Button being depressed]

RANDY

Yes, sir.

JIM

Do whatever you think is going to be the safest.

RANDY

No problem.

[NARRATOR]

Randy quickly began running by-passes so that the circuits would be non functional. He was going from the computer terminal back to the circuit racks. The computer was guiding him through the bypass procedures.

JIM

Everybody listen up. We had a couple of automation circuits short out. That means that everything from here on has to be done manually. I have to get back on the horn with the ground, and I'm going to request that we stick a fork in this trip and call it done. We've all done this drill, so let's look sharp and show this beast that she can't beat Navy pilots. J.B. is down below and attempting to salvage what's left of the automation system. Ferg, I need all the telemetries redone manually.

DAN

Aye, aye!

JIM

Red, I'll take the con. Help Cheryl secure her gear, and keep me in touch with the ground.

PHYLLIS

Aye, aye!

JIM

Cheryl, once your gear is secured, I want you to go down below and help J.B. If he needs more help let me know.

CHERYL

Yes sir.

JIM

That's all. Let’s get this pig down on the ground.

[NARRATOR]

Jim watched as his crew started to perform their assigned duties quickly and precisely. He settled back into the pilot's seat, strapped himself in plugged into the communications panel.

[FX: button being depressed.]

JIM (softly)

Tom, you still on?

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Sure am, Rain. What's the status?

JIM

Hell if I know, yet. I told these guys what was happening, gave and them all jobs to do. I'm getting a bad feeling. Promise me something will you, Tom?

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Sure, Rain what is it?

JIM

No matter what happens, who makes it and who doesn't...

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Can that shit mister. I'm not letting anything happen to you guys.

JIM (heavy sigh)

Thanks. I should have the manual reports in a few minutes. Don't go away.

GROUND CONTROL (filtered)

Who, me leave? Christ, I paid for these season tickets. I'm not walking out during overtime.

JIM

Thanks. Atlantis out.

[FX: Button being depressed.]

[NARRATOR]

Jim had never had this negative kind of a feeling before, and he was beginning to wonder if perhaps his luck might be running out. His mind started to wander back to a year ago, when all he was worried about was one single aircraft and his RIO (Radar Intercept Officer). He wondered what Jinx, his RIO, would say to him at this time.

DAN

Telemetries are redone and in the computer, Skipper. I'm going to start another run in a couple minutes.

JIM

Good. Now we'll get back up with the ground and see how bad this really is.

[FX: Button being depressed.]

JIM

Ground control, this is Atlantis.

[FX: Static from speaker.]

JIM

Ground control, this is Atlantis, do you copy Tom?

TOM (fading in and out of static)

Atlantis this is ground..... terminator. Next contact fifteen min.......

[FX: Button being depressed.]

JIM

Well guys, we're on our own for a while.

DAN (uneasy)

Skipper.

JIM

What's up?

DAN

We're on a reentry profile.

JIM (very agitated)

That can't be!

DAN

I just compared this set of telemetries with the ones in the computer, and it appears we're on reentry.

JIM

J.B., What's the automation system status?

RANDY

It should be off, I don't see an indicator to the contrary. All the controls have been by-passed into manual. But I'll check all fuses and let you know.

JIM

Don't take too....

[FX: Retro rockets start burn.]

JIM

Well, I'll take that as a yes. J.B., I thought you said that the auto circuits were all by-passed! Turn the damned thing off!

RANDY

Skipper, it isn't on!

[FX: Switches being toggled quickly, rockets continue.]

JIM

We have to take control of this or we will be on full auto reentry and no idea where we will land.

[FX: Retro rockets stop.]

JIM

J.B., turn that over to Ferg and get your ass up here.

RANDY

Aye, aye.

[FX: Sounds of Randy climbing into his seat and the latching of the seat harnesses.]

RANDY

Anytime you're ready, Skipper.

JIM

Initiate a one-eighty roll, on my mark. Three... two..... one... Mark!

[FX: Button being depressed.]

JIM (to self)

You've got to be kidding me. Doesn’t anything work right?

RANDY

Negative function. Switching to backup.

[FX: Switches being toggled in unison followed by a button being depressed.]

RANDY

Negative function on backup. I think we're screwed.

JIM

I hate Mondays. Okay, we got a ride to make. Everyone get to your seats and strap in.

[NARRATOR]

The shuttle made another standard smooth maneuver. Jim had never felt as helpless as he did right now, yet he was still too angry to be frightened. What had gone wrong? Could he have done something different? All of this was academic; his ship was on an uncontrolled reentry and whatever happened now was all that he could handle. He adjusted his focus, and started checking all of the switches making sure that they were set properly.

[FX: Fade out shuttle sounds. Fade in with ocean sounds and the sounds of jet aircraft being taxied. Heavy steel door opens and closes, then foot steps of man walking and coming to stop on steel deck.]

[NARRATOR]

It was only a few hours since night had fallen on the United States Navy's carrier Nimitz as she cruised the waters of south central Pacific. The tall black officer that had walked out onto the viewing area known as Vultures Row took a deep breath of the early evening air. Vultures Row was the nickname of the observation area, because all of the operations on the flight deck can be seen from there. Some who watch from the area are waiting for something to happen, like vultures - thus the name Vultures Row. Erick Johnson, a RIO for many years, relied on instinct. As the "back seat" in the F-14 fighters he had no physical control over the aircraft; his job was to track other aircraft, maintain the communication for the plane, and target the contacts with the weapon systems. Suddenly, it hit him that something was wrong, not near by, but not far away either. He looked up at the star-filled sky, almost as if the answer were there.

[FX: Another set of footsteps approaching.]

BRIAN

Jinx, I've been looking all over for you.

ERICK

What's up, Bee?

BRIAN

Just hunting you to see if that liberty went through. Something the matter, sir?

ERICK (almost to self)

I don't know. It's kinda like.... Hell, I don't know how to say it..... Rain.......

BRIAN

Excuse me?

ERICK

Oh, sorry. I'll go check on that liberty flight.

[FX: Man walking down ship's hallway, stopping and a knock on a door.]

HOFFMAN

Enter!

[FX: Door opening footsteps entering room. Door closing and several more footsteps.]

HOFFMAN

Well Jinx, to what do I owe this honor?

ERICK

Well Sir, I was going down to check on the liberty hop for Bee and me... shit sir, I have a very bad feeling.

HOFFMAN

What the hell are you saying son? A bad feeling about what?

ERICK

Have you heard any reports on Atlantis? Sir, I just got a bad feeling, just like the one I got over Lebanon riding with Rain. I just can....

[FX: Phone ringing.]

HOFFMAN

Yes. I see. Keep me posted, and monitor all frequencies.

[FX: Phone being hung up.]

ERICK

Sir?

HOFFMAN

I'm sorry Jinx. It would seem that whatever you and the Rainmaker have as a form of ESP is infallible. The shuttle is having some automation circuit problems, and is currently in a communications blackout.

ERICK

What sort of problems, Sir?

HOFFMAN

They didn't say. I'm denying your liberty. I want you to use this gift of yours. Once everything is over, then.....

[FX: Phone ringing.]

HOFFMAN

Yes..................... Very well, launch a Hawkeye into that sector. Bee and Jinx will escort.

ERICK

On my way, Sir!

HOFFMAN

Jinx.

ERICK

Sir?

HOFFMAN

We both....... We... my daughter and Rain.

[FX: The sound of a porthole being opened, then sea sounds and aircraft noises.]

ERICK

Don't fret sir. You always said that Rain would land on his feet. We'll find them. Oh, by the way, sir.

HOFFMAN

Yes?

ERICK

Congratulations on making the star, sir. You'll make a good admiral.

HOFFMAN

Thank you Jinx.

[FX: Fade in Shuttle sounds.]

JIM

Ferg what's our current position?

DAN

Skipper, this damned computer shows us on approach to Sioux City, currently heading Southeast over Cuba.

JIM (irritated)

Well, that's certainly reassuring.

[NARRATOR]

Jim's irritation level was rising. He had been trying anything he could think of to regain control, but nothing was working. Without the computer the navigation systems weren't functioning correctly. Bottom line: He had no idea where they were, what direction they were heading, or where they might land.

DAN

Skipper.

JIM

If it's bad news mister, go ahead. I don't see how it can get any worse.

DAN

We might as well just ride it out and see where this ride stops, Sir. We are on complete auto override and no way to shut down, I've rechecked all the by-passes and all the fuses. There appears to be no way to shut this thing off. Also, all the radio circuits appear out. I can't fix them until we stabilize.

JIM

Okay. Then let’s strap in and do it.

[NARRATOR]

The cabin was quiet. As Cheryl looked around the cabin, she noticed Jim was looking at her. He smiled and winked.

JIM

Don't worry Miss Hoffman, your daddy says I have an uncanny knack for getting out of bad situations. Besides, he'd kill me if anything happened to you and I'm not ready to die just yet....... We're going to make it.

RANDY (puzzled)

Sir?

JIM

Jinx is up here with us!

CHERYL

What is he talking about, Phyllis?

PHYLLIS

Jim's RIO, Jinx. Somehow those two just know... things.

CHERYL

Things?

DAN

Like when the telephone is going to ring or a MiG is going to sneak up... from behind. This should prove interesting.

[FX: Ghoulish howl of the shuttle entering the atmosphere.]

JIM

We're entering the atmosphere!

RANDY

Then the altimeter works.

JIM

Ferg any idea where we are yet?

DAN

Sorry sir, none that are realistic.

[FX: Cut to roar of jet fighter cruising at high speed.]

[NARRATOR]

The F-14 was cruising high and fast, the only indication of the fact that it was moving, the dull roar of the engines and the vibrations that shook the plane gently. Erick's attention was shifting back and forth between the radar screens and the sky. He had three monitors in front of him, and each had its own use. He had to divide his attention between those three screens, the radio and scanning the skies visually. Just as he was going to look down to the radar something told him to look up. He did and saw a glowing streak in the sky. He quickly shifted his attention to the long-range targeting screen.

Bee. Come right to one-nine-two, climb, and kick this thing in the ass! Spearhead two-one-zero. We have a possible visual. Contact bearing one-nine-two, two-five-zero miles, and estimated altitude six-zero thousand feet. Over.

Two-one-zero, copy all. The Hawkeye has confirmed your sighting. Eagle one signals check the contact and good hunting. Over.

The glow from the heat panels entered the cabin and the intense heat reminded Jim of a misty East coast summer sunrise. He watched as the altimeter counted down, hating their complete helplessness. The possibility of their doom made time slow. He was wishing it would just come, either the end that he had cheated so may times or the exhilaration of survival. He began to wonder if this was what those MiG pilots felt like as the end he sent them to, approached. A rhetorical thought, yet he still knew that Erick was on his way.

Skipper. Twenty thousand feet. We should hit bottom in about a minute, at our present decent rate.

This may be a little inopportune, but ... I'm afraid I've fallen in love with you.

Jim nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned his head around. That was absolutely the last thing in the world he was expecting to hear right then. As he looked around the cabin he saw a very embarrassed Cheryl, Randy and Dan trying to contain their grins, and Phyllis looking at Cheryl in total disbelief.

That's all right. Very typical, but all right. In a couple of seconds we will all be dead, or I’ll have to explain to your dad why the admiral's daughter is in love with me. And the last thing I want to do is face the admiral.

Erick watched in horror as the image on the screen headed toward the ocean. Their airplane was heading as fast as possible trying to intercept the shuttle, and yet he knew that even if they did catch it there was little if anything they could do to help those inside. He moved his head close to the canopy side so that he could see out the front. Brian's seat headrest blocked most of the forward visibility, yet he did the best he possibly could.

Brian was willing the plane to a speed that was starting to make its handling difficult. Finally the strange glow from the titanium leading edges of the wings caught his attention. He watched as the streak headed down and vectored his aircraft to a point down and in front of the target. But the distance was too great, and, as he looked at his altimeter, he realized that their current course and rate of descent would soon put them into the water.

I was just starting to notice that. Let's try to get over them as quick as possible.

Yeah. It was straight ahead about ten miles. I'm going to slow down so we can get a better look. But, there's not a lot of moon, it is night and that water looks pretty dark. Visual I D may be a long shot.

[FX: Jet engine noise reduces slightly. Flaps being lowered, and wing swinging forward. Switches being toggled.]

I have all the landing lights on, I’ll watch the left side you have the right.

When Brian felt certain he was over the point where he had lost visual contact, there was no sign. He climbed and started slow and widening circles, in a standard search pattern. Before long, several more aircraft joined them. A Hawkeye was keeping all of the aircraft spaced, making sure that all areas were covered.

[FX: Jet sounds end, fade in with sounds of the control area of the aircraft carrier. Jet launching from deck below.]

The admiral sat in his chair on the bridge, motionless gazing out of the windows of the con and into the darkness. His thoughts were on his daughter and her fellow crew members in the shuttle. He felt comfortable with Jim commanding the flight, and knew that no matter what happened, Jim would give a hundred and ten percent. Lost in thought of all the possibilities, the admiral was not ready to give them up for dead. With the intercom system monitoring radios of the search teams, all of the crew on the bridge listened with him as the radio chatter between the ships, the Hawkeye, and the other aircraft continued seemingly non-stop.

It was about two thirty when the air boss, the person responsible for all the air operations of the ship, walked onto the bridge with two cups of steaming hot coffee. He offered one of the cups to the admiral.

I guess I have. I just can't come up with any ideas. What else do we need to do?

I do. He showed us all something that day. I never figured out how he got that guy off his tail, and got on his. Shit, he'll get them out of this. He's one of the best combat pilots I've ever known, this should be a cake walk for him. All we have to do is be in the area. He'll find us, just like he always has.

[FX: Another jet launching from deck. Radio static from speaker with occasional voices from search teams. Fade to jet fighter cockpit noises.]

Erick and Brian, having spent all night in the search pattern, saw the sun starting to glow in the sky. They had refueled twice, and Brian was now as frustrated as the rest of the searchers. His feet were tingling with the pain of hundreds of needles as they started to fall asleep from the lack of movement for such a long time.

Jinx, I'm sorry. But if I don't get back on the deck I'm going to fall asleep up here.

I guess you're right. I'm not doing any good either. Turn around; I'll call in. Spearhead two-one-zero, request a ready deck. We can't take much more this round. Over.

I'm sorry sir. I know that you and Rainmaker were, I mean are, close. We didn't find any debris; maybe the ship is intact and we'll find it.

As they headed back, his eyes swept the search area. Erick was feeling sick, he felt as if he were abandoning Jim. Yet, he knew that if Brian and he didn't get some rest soon, they might be the next victims. Yet, there was the feeling deep inside him that Jim was alive and would be found. As he reached up to turn the radars over to approach for landing, the numbness in his left hand became apparent to him. His body was starting to go to sleep without him.

Jim jolted back to consciousness, his head hurting, feeling as if he had been clobbered by a train. His vision was blurry, but he did notice that all the electrical systems seemed to be working. After shaking the cobwebs loose and rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the altimeter and saw the reading of 125 feet and knew that it wasn't working. He shook his head, mostly out of frustration and was afraid to ask what else could happen.

I think so. Check on the rest of them. And on the way back bring me some aspirin please.

Ask me when my vision focuses. How about I run a full system check.... omitting the automation circuits naturally.

Sounds good to me. Run a telemetry if you can, too. I'd really like to know were in God's name we landed. Also, I want to know what systems aren't working.

Good thinking. That should let us be ready to leave the shuttle at a moment's notice. I am glad that someone in the crew is thinking.

Those are my systems and duties anyway. Rain, which one scared you the most, Rain? The crash or the girl?

Here are a couple aspirin and a packet of water. The rest of the crew is fine. Hoffman is out, but as best I can tell, looking at her vitals, it doesn't appear any more serious than a bump on the back of the head. I've laid an ice pack beside her, for when she comes to. The rest have some bruises. All in all, we fared it. Pretty well.

In that case, Dan wanted a stable ship to repair the radio. This sure feels pretty stable.

Jim had no sooner spoken when it hit him. Stable? Hell they were too stable. Were they on the water? He couldn't feel the pitch and roll of the waves. With the down angle they had, a collision with solid land would have been fatal. He knew that he had seen the moon's reflection in the instants before impact. But, what was the light reflecting off of? He leaned foreword toward the window and peered through. No stars, no light, nothing. He leaned back thinking, shifting his gaze to the altimeter again.

I'm not sure. Maybe it would just start reading....... You don't think that we're under water do you?

The girl....... Try to find out about the possibility of the altimeter when you complete the checklist.

Oh, by the way, Red. You were right. It would appear that God did owe me a favor.

Phyllis turned and went on with her checklist. She smiled as she thought about the irony of her comment, or was it really true? As she turned to look back at Jim kneeling in front of Cheryl, she wondered if he didn't really have some sort of pact with a divine influence. Nearly every one in fleet knew of his remarkable battle with a Russian made MiG fighter that snuck up behind him. Before the MiG could get started on a lock, Jim had turned the tables on the MiG and was sending his first combat kill into the ocean off the coast of Lebanon.

My head is pounding and everything is blurry. All I can recall was Jim's last command to brace.

How does that bump on your head feel? Here's an ice pack, let's see if this helps.

Shhh. Let's just say it was unexpected. But, at least you were brave enough to say how you felt.

I wasn't being brave, I was being scared. I didn't want to die without your knowing how I felt.

I fell for you a couple of years ago. But I never found a time where your dad wasn't mad at me long enough to tell him.

[FX: Shuttle shifts, some grinding of metal on rocks and groans of the shuttle shifting. Footsteps of Jim running back to his seat.]

I have no idea how I'm going to get us out of this one. Shall we see what it looks like out there?

There is no longer any question about it, with all the fish out there hiding from our lights, we are under water. It looks as if the loose rocks and silt we came to rest on are shifting, falling over the ledge and we are going with it.

I find it really amazing what extremes you'll go to keep from getting involved in a relationship.

Well gang, here's the situation. We're apparently about a hundred and twenty-five-feet under water, sliding slowly toward a ravine. Ferg, I need a radio or transponder now!

I'm not totally sure we have that long. Red, what are the emergency egress procedures for this type of scenario?

Jim leaned forward to see what was happening outside. The ravine edge was now only feet away. All the combat training, all the emergency training, and yet Jim was completely unprepared for this. He was starting to wish for the days of dogfights over Lebanon. At least then he had some idea of what was possible.

[FX: Switches being toggled, some motors winding down. Grinding fading into silence.]

As the crew sat helplessly within the craft, the nose pointed down and the craft headed into the dark abyss.

Admiral Hoffmann stood quietly on Vultures Row. As he watched the approaching Tomcat through binoculars, hoping for some kind of miracle, the heat of the morning sun warmed him. It was almost as if the sun were trying to strip away all of the events from last night with the start of the new day. Every ship in the search quadrant reported no sign of the shuttle. As the whistle of the Tomcat's engines grew louder, he lowered the binoculars and watched as the plane landed. It was obvious to anyone watching that the long hours in the sky had taken a toll on the young pilot. Yet the skill and determination also were evident as he brought the plane crashing to the deck in true Navy fashion.

In the minutes that passed, the admiral was trying to convince himself that there was hope. The whole thing seemed all too unreal to be happening.

[FX: Fade from flight deck sounds to cabin quietness. Muffled jet launch. Knock on door.]

This map shows all of the search areas. You were the only one who actually had a visual on the thing.

Well, sir, that looks about right. So this is pretty much where the Hawkeye put its track?

I don't know, Sir. But, Bee and I don't think it broke up. If it had, we would've certainly found some sort of debris by now.

No sir. If it were, we certainly would have found it, that would be too big to miss. Bee and I were thinking that maybe.... No, forget it.

I want a structural stat sheet on the shuttle. Move all the destroyers into the search areas and have them go active sonar.

Sir, that's a real long shot. You really think it's worth concentrating that much effort into?

Erick. Yes this is a real long shot, but it's the best direction we've got to go. You think they're still alive?

You two look like hell. Go get some sleep. But, I want to see you before your next shift.

As Erick closed the door behind him, he wanted to go back out. But he knew that if he was right, there was nothing more they could do from the air. And besides, sleep sounded good. He thought to himself that the admiral should get some rest as well, but knew that he couldn't rest until some positive news was heard. On the way to his cabin he stuck his head in to check on Brian, who was sound asleep. In a few minutes Erick, like Brian, was in a deep and well deserved sleep.

The descent had been rapid and steady, still there was no control of the shuttle. Phyllis watched as the altimeter counted the increasing depth. She was unsure of what else she could do besides looking through the emergency manuals for the proper procedure for what was happening.

Jim watched the altimeter go past 2000 feet while he finished attaching the manual control stick.

Any idea how deep we can go before we crush like an egg carton? God! Under water!

Well, Ferg, you did say you wanted to be around when I set a new record. I just hope that we'll all be around to tell about it.

Go over to override and try the controls. I think I got you partial pitch control on the manual override system.

The shuttle was too heavy and the water gave too much resistance to stop the descent, but Jim was able to bring the nose up enough to slow the descent. The large bomber style control yoke that he pulled on, was part of the emergency override equipment. It was a small victory in the long run, but a victory none the less. As he pulled back on the yolk every muscle in his back hurt; he pulled harder and started to feel light headed from the pain.

Well, we're right on schedule. Now all the good news starts coming in. We got a chance now. So, what does it look like ahead?

Five hundred. Rate of descent decreasing. Angle of attack now seventeen degrees down.

I can see the sea floor, it’s not much further ahead. I wonder how much more the yolk can take before it shears off. God, this hurts..... My head feels like it’s.......

Range to bottom fifty feet, descending very slowly, angle of attack now a five degrees positive. You've done it Rain! The nose is up.

[FX: Rear of shuttle drags. Dragging slows and sounds of shuttle settling on soft floor.]

Honey, he'll be fine. He just used every once of energy to get us down safely. That's the Rainmaker. You got yourself a handful girl, one hell of a handful.

That I do. I've seen him in a few relationships. I think this is one he'll really be happy in. You’ll be good for him, provided you can settle that rebel down.

Well, I don't really know. Maybe you can scare up lunch. It has been a rather long morning.

I wish I could tell you. The answers are not clearly discernible. This was going to be a lengthy research project. We had enough for five more days in orbit, and a two-to-three day emergency backup.

Down below, Dan and Randy took great care to place Jim on a flat fold-out table. Dan went over to the wall and took down one of the sleeping cocoons and brought it over while Randy made a pillow out of a towel. Once Jim was covered, Dan started to start check him for vital signs. When he was sure that there was no reason for further concern, he stood up and faced Randy.

God, I'll have to think about that for a minute.... Let's see.... We're under water, right?

I think we better check the hull for leaks. With all that's happened so far, that's about all that hasn't happened.

I think you're right. I'll start doing the checks, you go up and check on the other two.

There's no clue in the manual that's helpful. I recommend cutting all unneeded circuits, to save battery power. We probably should do a structural integrity check. Other than that, I'm not sure what else to do.

Do the shut downs, Ferg and I have already discussed the integrity checks. By the way, Rain'll be fine, he's completely worn out. The mental and physical strain of fighting this pig drained him. You want to let Cheryl know?

Yeah, maybe. But maybe this time he won't get out of it. She seems pretty hooked.

Who knows? I guess in a big way we're too good of friends to screw up things with a relationship. In another, he's still gun shy after that divorce.

It's more of an excuse than anything. He uses that and work to keep any possible relationships on the rocks. I think it comes down to his being afraid of gettin' hurt again. Besides, I'm sort of hooked on someone.

That's right, I've heard that you sort of fell for some desk jockey. An intelligence officer and red neck, or so I hear. I'm gonna get back to the radio.

Phyllis went back to shutting down all the circuits that weren't necessary, then undid her harness and slid out of her seat. She smiled as she thought of her new steady boyfriend. Then she started missing him, wondering if she would ever see him again. As she made her way to the hatch that led below, she was overcome with the feeling that she was being watched. She turned around and slowly looked through the cabin. Nothing. She shook her head and wrote it off to nerves, then joined the others below.

The morning sun was now well over the horizon. The Soviet task force had been trying to monitor the American fleet. There was still some question as to the strange track that had blazed across their radar screens the night before. They had tracked the fighter making what had appeared to be an attempt to intercept it. It was all still very confusing to captain Morat Yakamerirov.

[FX: Pair of footsteps walking across steel deck. Steel door opens, ship sounds.]

These are not normal battle-type maneuvers. I have no idea what the Americans are up to. Damn, these are not even regular search operations.

Are you suggesting that we approach them for closer observations, mister political officer?

No, captain. They are in international waters. So maybe a low level flight could be informative.

I wish I could have a job where I had some respect. At least here I can have my tea in peace.

They didn't say anything. We don't have any alert traffic on any missing aircraft. I don't understand why they have come to a complete stop. It just doesn't make sense........ Don't they have a shuttle up?

Yes. But that wouldn't land anywhere near where they are. In fact, I don't think that there is a runway long enough anywhere in this area.

What we are experiencing is very unusual. They have slowed to nearly a crawl and we are far enough away that we can hardly detect the American ships with our radar. We will have to make a slow wide circle around the American fleet, keeping them just on the fringe of the radar screen, if we are to maintain contact.

Excuse me sirs, but we have picked up our aircraft on its way toward the American fleet.

[FX: Footsteps going into the cabin, and the sound of the radar. Fade to turbo-prop bomber cabin noises.]

Uri piloted his Tu-16 Badger bomber toward the American fleet. He adjusted his oxygen mask; it felt uncomfortable. After the last nine years of flying this type of mission, he was starting to get a little complacent. The black leather cap that partly covered his blonde hair seemed not to fit right today. His hazel eyes, framed by both the mask and the cap, gave the impression of some sort of Hollywood space creature. He looked out at the ocean below, and saw the Soviet battle group. As he checked off at the Frunze, he vectored toward the American fleet and almost an instant later, the interceptors from the fleet were headed toward him. This was a common drill; he would approach the American ships, open his bomb bay doors and let the interceptors see his anti-ship missiles. While the fighters were coaxing him to leave the area, he would have the opportunity to get a close look at what the ships were up to.

Uri looked out to the left. An F-14 was slowing down to fly escort for the bomber. The arrogance of American fighter pilots was beyond Uri's comprehension. Their aircraft had gloss black vertical stabilizers with chrome leading edges, the top of the tails were bright yellow and in the middle was a gloss white Jolly Roger. He could see the bright yellow helmets of the two crewmen in the plane. He wondered if the symbols on the aircraft tails were a testimony of their true intentions.

Roy was the newest pilot in the squadron and, being an ensign, the responsibility of "parking" under the Soviet bomber's open bay doors was his. As he looked up through the canopy at the Soviet missile hanging in the bomb bay, the thought came to him that this was total insanity. It was a safety precaution, an expensive one, but one none-the-less. The bomber carried an anti-ship missile and to ensure that if it was launched it could not be used against the carrier, a fighter was "parked" under the bomb bay. If the weapon were to be dropped, it would fall on top of the waiting fighter. The fall would damage the missile and because it would essentially take out the fighter, that would constitute an act of aggression, allowing the other fighters to shoot down the bomber.

Ghost, are you okay up there? Cowboy, this is High-ball in two-zero-nine. I think we have a problem.

[FX: Fighter accelerating followed by explosion from afterburners being ignited.]

Spearhead this is Tomcat two-zero-two. We have a missile launch. May have been accidental. I'm in pursuit of the weapon.

[FX: Fighter accelerating followed by explosion from afterburners being ignited.]

Jackal, I want to overload that piece of junk's tracking ability. How many missiles can we dedicate on a single target?

Not sure, Ghost. Three, maybe four on a single; I'm working on it now. Too bad Rain isn't up here. This is the kind of thing he's good at.

Isn't that the truth? I want to coordinate the fire with the surface so give me a count.

The admiral stood on the bridge in his life vest and helmet. The battle stations alert was going, yet he seemed almost deaf to it. To most of the crew this was a common drill. Whenever the Soviets would come too close, this drill was done as a show of muscle. The admiral peered through his binoculars, looking in the direction of the incoming rocket.

Cowboy won't miss. Still, I'd feel better if Rain were the one chasing that damned thing. I do not wish to test that 20 mm electrically-operated computer guided Gatling gun that fires 3000 rounds per minute. There is also the Aegis air defense system on the Ticonderoga. With that much defense we should be okay.

Captain, the Ticonderoga has two birds out bound and the Tomcat reports four sidewinders launched and are tracking... The Tomcat is breaking off. Five seconds to target.

Well, we are finally going to see if that new software for the Phalanx really works. Right George?

Get on the box to radar. I want to know if it's still inbound. All I see is debris and a lot of smoke.

Radar, con. Status on the inbound? ........ Sir, Radar is calling it a kill. No further track on the target.

The American fighters have radar lock on us and we have sever damages to most of our electrical systems.

I would be doing the same thing if I were in there shoes. Let’s not do anything that might escalate the situation.

We have some broken glass. Possible electrical damage and many of our systems are not functioning.

Turn to heading one-one-six, maintain current altitude, and stand by on this frequency.

[FX: Sounds of the turbo-prop bomber making a slow, steady turn. Fade out bomber noises, fade in carrier control room sounds.]

I'm not really sure, sir. I heard from two-zero-nine that something was wrong. The next thing I know, he was bugging out.

Yes, sir. Could have been a little too much for him. Do you have location on him right now?

He's flying straight and level ... a little bouncy ... no AB's ... flying at four hundred knots, boss.

Well, let's see what we're up against. Give me a vector for a cautious approach.

Man am I glad you're here. I think Ghost has settled down, but I can't get him to talk to me.

That's what I wanted to hear. You keep on trying to talk to Ghost, let him know that it’s me coming up on him.

I guess I sort of lost it back there. This isn't going to look too good on my record, is it?

I'm not too worried about that, but, the old man is going to want to talk to you about the cost of a few missiles.

Have all ships stay at non-battle status. Let's not give the Americans any more reason to shoot.

Captain, four aircraft heading this way. Low level approach. Probably F- eighteens. We have no defensive systems operational.

No doubt that they are sending F-eighteens. No doubt outfitted with their Harpoon anti-ship missiles.

Captain, the American planes are going to computer lock! Surely we must go to battle stations!

Nothing else, mister Kamorov. And do not activate the tracking radar. I don't want them to think we're ready to fight... Not yet.

I guess I should see what he wants. This is captain Yakameirov, commander of the Soviet ship Frunze.

This is Admiral Hoffman, commander of the USS Nimitz. What are the intentions of your battle group?

We have no knowledge of a missile launch on your ships. What are the intentions of your aircraft approaching this group?

Captain, my apologies for the delay in my answer. Our intentions were strictly defensive.

Understood. With your permission, admiral, we will depart on a heading of two-nine-three.

That is fine. We will offer to escort your Badger aircraft back to your airspaces. Due to his damage, he might have some navigational problems.

Those fighters and that Badger are going to need to refuel if they're going to make the coast and get back.

Once we get all of our planes back on board, I want the group to go back to where we were. I'll be in my cabin talking with a couple pilots.

[FX: Footsteps leaving, fade out control room sounds Fade in two sets of footsteps in steel hallways. Footsteps stop, Knock on wood door.]

[FX: Door opens two sets of footsteps enter, door closes steps continue a short distance and stop.]

Would one of you gentlemen like to kindly tell me just what the hell happened up there?

Sir, I don't know just what happened. I parked under the Badger, looked up at the missile, and ... I guess I got scared.

Cowboy, why did you put a green rookie in that position? Didn't you think that a couple of runs would have been in order before you assign someone in that position?

Ghost, you caused an anti-ship missile to be launched at us. And both of you very nearly caused World War Three! ........ I can't avoid reporting this, and as some action will need to be taken, I'm grounding both of you for a week. That should pacify fleet. You're dismissed.

Uri felt more comfortable. He had been refueled by the American tanker and had the two remaining F-14's guiding him back to the mainland. His radio communications with both his fleet and the Americans had been comforting. Once everything had gotten straightened out, everyone was working together. The help of the American fighters was much needed, as his electrical difficulties had caused problems in the navigational systems. He flew with his escorts for nearly twenty minutes, then noticed several aircraft approaching from the ten o'clock position. It wasn't too long before he could make out that the approaching aircraft were from his airbase. They would replace the American fighters and guide him home. He knew there would be a thousand questions to be answered after he landed, but he looked forward to getting back. Today had been more than he had bargained for.

The strange craft lay still on the sea floor. The shadowy images of the returning patrol were barely visible. Nolwak watched the small lighted spots on the side of the craft. He was asking himself if this was yet another trick of the Shoals. This thing that came down from their area. What else could it be?

No Sir. This may sound strange, but they resemble the Terrans I recall reading about in our history.

That's impossible. No one has encountered one in some time and certainly they don't posses the technology to reach this depth.

Not completely true, son. They are primitive and since the war with the Shoals has limited our contact with their region, we have not encountered one for some time. True, they were not known to posses the knowledge to achieve this depth. But it has been a long time.

But even you have said they are primitive. It's also said that they destroy things and each other, for no apparent reason!

Yes all that is true. But, we are sworn to help those in need when we can. Our heritage is one of intellect and peace; I will not permit any deviance from those ways.

I think not. The Shoals have never required any aid in the perpetuation of war. I think that this is as simple and innocent as it appears. Send your patrol back out and determine if these creatures are in need of help.

As you wish, Father. But I shall accompany them this time, to make sure this is no Shoal trickery.

Nolwak made note of the odd shape and texture of the craft. Noticing the light coming from the lower windows, he motioned to the larger windows above. Two of the Mers made their way up as Nolwak carefully looked into the craft. He saw two strange creatures attending to a third who was lying down. Another entered the area of view. These strange creatures moved in an odd manner, on two equally sized thin tails. He could see no signs of gills, scales or fins. Whatever these were, they were not Shoals.

I think he's going be all right, but I'm no doctor. His pulse and respiration seem okay, he's just sort of out cold.

Okay, no problem. I guess I've been a little hard on you. I'll try to go easier.

My God! My ears don't believe what they're hearing. Mark this day in history! Randy Browne apologized!

Sorry ....... Am I going nuts or does anybody else feel like we're being watched?

Frankly I think all of you are nuts. There's nothing but fish moving around this deep. Finish eating, then let's secure and get some sleep. No one can be that sharp after the day we've had.

Luck more than anything. We must have had just the right angle of entry. Sort of like a swimmer, the right angle gets you in and the wrong angle is a belly flop.

Cheryl was wishing that she could see all the different creatures that lived at this depth. As a biologist, she had only seen pictures. What an opportunity she was being offered; yet, due to the circumstances she was unable to take advantage of it.

I'm quite aware of why we moved the city! We will make room! We can never turn our backs on them- or anyone else!

I guess at times it's all we have to keep us from going outright loony. I'm going to finish the pre-flight checks and we'll get out of here.

[FX: Switches being toggled. Gyros powering up. Voices of ground crew as they load missiles.]

I finished the walk around and I’m ready for the start-up checks. Intercom on.

Intercom is on. Bee, what did Jaws decide the mission altitude was going to be after the briefing?

Thirty to eighty feet. Jaws gets to call it because he's driving the TARPS bird. We're just along for the ride as his escort.

Thirty feet. You have no idea how much I hate low-level operations. They make my teeth hurt. I remember how Jim would sneak down and scare me with how low he could fly the plane, like in Lebanon, forty feet above the ground looking for SU-twenty-two's that were hunting the A-six's.

[FX: More switches toggled motors winding up for engine start. Turbo-prop aircraft launching.]

I hope that the Hawkeye is able to put us back into position with all that fancy electronics.

[FX: Jet engines starting one at a time and power added to full throttle. Explosion and roar of afterburners.]

God, I never get over the rush from this part of the job. Feeling all that power about to be unleashed.

[FX: Two jets launching from deck. Fade to cockpit sounds of one of the fighters.]

Just recalling why Rain liked night operations. He always said that there were fewer distractions on the approach at night.

I wouldn't argue that point for one second; but, he's still one hell of a pilot. No one knew what Rain was going to do next. Not even me.

Jinx, I've wanted to ask this since I've heard the story. Is it true he did an A B turn over Iran, during an engagement, to bag his fourth?

Yep. He had altered his afterburner switch so he had independent control of either side. The Iranian F-fourteen had us by the tail and was about to lock up. Rain was going straight up, killed one AB for only an instant and we flat spun 180 degrees then fed the guy a Sidewinder. I have always wished that I could have seen that guy's face when he figured out what had happened. I really wish that I could have watched the whole thing from the sidelines.

Well, the intelligence folks think the infrared might show something. I'm banking on a transponder or radio. Rain will get them on the air if there is any possible way.

The normal emergency or one-one-zero-point-five, it’s always been our back up.

I think I see something on the surface. Perhaps a large fish shadowed in the dusk. Whatever it is,... it was dark and everything we want to see is white. .......... Thirty feet!

[FX: Large hall filled with low tone conversations. Slight lapping sounds of water at pool side. Voices grow silent.]

[FX: Voices sounding discontentment grow then the room goes silent, just the water.]

Yes, there are several Terrans who seem to have some trouble. It is my desire to bring them here.

We made a vow to our ancestors long ago. We will aid any creature that is in distress. We will not do harm to others unless it is in our own defense. We exiled the Shoals because of their actions of harm. Many would lure the early Terrans into doom with their songs. My own father put an end to that deadly music, at a great cost to all of us, including his own life. Since then, the conflict between Shoals and Mers has been a bitter one. The reason for the feud then was helping the Terrans, we must now aid these.

I feel that this is going to be an isolated incident. However should we find more Terrans in the future, I will likely act in a similar manner.

It was long ago, before we moved the second time, that we were last threatened by hunters. As the king I need not ask approval for my decisions. I am doing this so we can prepare our city.

And what of the other Terrans? They have been separated from our people for so long, most of us had forgotten them and many of the younger generation have never had contact with them.

We have not treated them well since our last move. We shall bring them back from the outpost. Make ready the Terran Hall!

[FX: Sounds of the multiple conversations fade into the distance. The cockpit sounds of a jet fighter in flight.]

It had been only a few days since that Iranian fighter had slipped in behind him and Jim had turned the tables and bagged his fourth kill. He was now only one kill away from his ace; he wanted that recognition. Now, Slide and he were on the schedule for a sortie near the coast of Iran. When they got into the air, Jim grew quieter than usual, then aimed his aircraft across the cost and into Iranian airspace, then dropped down to thirty feet.

Let's see if those dips can use some of their high tech toys and come up and play.

Jim's eyes opened quickly and he pulled himself to a sitting position, shaking the cobwebs and the dreams out of his head. He felt as if a freight train had run him over; every muscle in his body ached. But, his memory was starting to clear - the reentry, underwater, partial power, 2000 feet... Cheryl!

I'm not so sure about that. I'm still pretty weak. Has anyone checked the integrity of the ship?

[FX: Two people climbing into the seats and toggling a couple switches. Then pages of a book being turned.]

I want to see if the hull integrity strength rating is listed. I'm not finding it. By the way, it would be easier for me if you called me Rain.

Phyllis was looking for that sort of thing earlier. I heard her tell Randy that there wasn't anything listed. I don't think they wanted me to hear that.

I suppose they're just not sure that you're ready to face the type of problems we were trained for.

Dad has said you fly as if you're chasing a ghost, like you have something to prove to someone.

I never thought of it in quite that way. Maybe I am trying to prove something to someone ........ and that someone is probably my father.

Now, wait! I know this may be crazy, but take a minute, now, right now, talk to me. Jim, we might never have another chance. A minute or two, now, please. Tell me about you......... Please.

I really don't know a lot about him. He died before I was born. Mom has told me that he was a pilot, a member of Flight Nineteen out of Fort Lauderdale, in fact.

Yeah. Maybe I'm trying to impress him somehow, or to bring him back. My mom hardly ever talks about him and never remarried. She still lives in the same house in Fort Lauderdale.

A big mistake. She needed a home away from her family, I needed someone at home. I thought love was something that could be made. That lasted nearly a year, then I came home to a note. What about you? Any serious romances in your life?

No. Well, not exactly a romance. I've had a crush on you from that time I met you when dad was your wing commander and you had a broken nose. I'm glad that I finally found out what happened.

Yep, sure was. And I still have that picture you signed for me. Remember the one of you from the air show?

Well, I've slept with it for years. In fact I have it here in the pocket of my flight suit.

Well, I'm flattered. But what happens in a couple years when Mr. Right comes along?

Randy switched on the outer lights and caught a glimpse of something ducking under the wing. He turned his head toward Jim.

First, peal me off the roof. Cheryl nearly sent me through with that scream. Second, whatever, or whoever, is out there is out there. At this point, it can't get in and we can't get out. Let's focus on staying alive and getting out of here. What's our status?

We are settled flat, no leaks or seepage have been found. O2 tanks are at sixty percent. CO2 converters are operational and the air quality is normal. Batteries are at sixty-three percent.

Ferg, with the possibility of someone down here with us, someone who is hiding from us, I want you to set a watch schedule.

Not trying to make you feel like a waitress, but I could really use some coffee. The high octane packet.

What kind of crazy talk is this speaking of "when"? We face the biggest "if" in history.

Hey, you got it! I wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of telling him. I've got to get us out of here.

One-one-zero-point-five on the alternate, and the normal emergency. Put them on simultaneous transmit.

I know. But it's the one that Jinxy will have dialed in. I'll get in my seat. Put it on button two.

Erick was near the point of total frustration. All they were doing was flying straight for ten minutes, making a U turn and flying back. Added to the drone of the engines was the annoying hiss of the static on the radio. He had set up the radio to monitor several frequencies at the same time.

C Q, C Q. This is Atlantis declaring an emergency. Crew is fine. Depth is .....

Bee, we’re turning back on our course and try to reestablish radio contact with them.

Atlantis, Atlantis, this is Tomcat two-one-zero, over.......... Atlantis do you copy?

Tomcat two-one-zero, this is Hawkeye one-one-seven. Do you have contact with Atlantis?

I caught a partial transmission on one-one-zero-point-five and the normal emergency. Notify Eagle-One that Atlantis signaled all crew fine. Over.

Copy. I'll run the tape back and do an overlay for a location. Spearhead advises you to make refuel connection at one three thousand feet your earliest possible.

Nolwak was hopeful that whatever the device had been, his father was right. The craft had produced an irritating and nearly incapacitating pulse, perhaps some sort of weapon. The pulse had ended as soon as he had fallen against the craft and knocked something off. One of the patrol had already been seen. Then this. What else could he expect?

As the messenger raced toward the city, one of the patrol Mers floated to the floor, a spear lodged deep in his chest, a small trail of blood flowing from the wound.

Quickly, the Mers started to return fire. Their weapons were far superior and although outnumbered, they were holding their own. Nolwak wondered how the Shoals had found them. He did know that they must protect the Terrans, that now they all were in danger. A spear missed Nolwak by nearly its own thickness; he returned fire with his pulse gun, the Shoal fell.

Look at those lights coming from over there. They seem to be chasing off some of them.

It looks like some sort of sub. Not like any I’ve ever seen before, yet something familiar about it.

Nolwak and several others went back to the craft. The helpless Terrans watched as the Mers raised their weapons and fired.

One of the scouts reported that there is a lot of activity on the surface. It is unclear what it might be.

Take a patrol to the surface. Try to see if this is a rescue attempt or not. This situation is getting out of hand. I need to return to the city and regain control.

[FX: Wind and sea with flight deck sounds. Jet aircraft runs up engines and launches.]

Admiral Hoffman stood alone on Vultures Row looking out toward the endless ocean. Only the light of ghoulish green iridescence from the wake trailing the gigantic warship and the stars of the moonless night pierced the darkness. His thoughts were on his daughter and how he had arranged for her to be on this mission.

Skipper! We have the F-fourteen's on button four. I think you'll want to hear what they have to say, sir!

Eagle-One, this is Tomcat two-one-zero. We have received a partial transmission from Atlantis.

That's still unknown at this time, sir. But the transmission did signal crew is fine.

That was pretty much the extent of the message. The transmission ended rather abruptly.

Negative. Again the transmission was too short to get a lock on. But it sounded localized, very localized. It's possible that the TARPS might register the signal as an image, sir.

Return to where you picked up the signal, and run a couple more passes. Then I want you guys back here so we can start working on the imagery.

The minute the Hawkeye repositions that flight, I want the coordinates sent out to the battle group. Get the California, Texas and those three frigates to that spot. Then have them start a standard search pattern. Tell them to set up as if they were looking for a sub that was hiding on the bottom.

Aye, aye, captain. Signal the escorts to stand by for new orders and to set to search the ........ The bottom, sir?

Give them the green. By the way, how long do you think before the F-fourteen's are done?

I can have them on the deck within thirty minutes. I'll have the Hawkeye reposition them, get a location, then bring them in.

Make it so, Officer of the deck, turn the Nimitz into the wind! Make revolutions for thirty knots. We have company coming in.

It was only a few minutes later that the deck landing and approach lights were illuminated and preparation begun to receive the incoming cargo plane. As the air boss and his crew prepared the deck, the landing lights of the approaching aircraft could barely be seen in the distance.

[FX: The sound of the helicopter building power, lifting off the deck and heading off. Turbo-prop cargo plane approaching and landing on flight deck.]

Good, good. As soon as they're down I want the intell guys to get busting on that imagery.

[FX: Fighter approaches and lands on deck, taxies off. Second fighter approaches.]

This is like landing on a postage stamp in a dark room. Just aim at the red and green bouncing lights.

I never got used to it..... That was Rain’s trick. I have the SH-three helicopter left about a quarter mile.

Tomcat in the grove and on final. Tomcat two-one-zero call the ball at one quarter mile.

Roger ball...... Power........ Come left three degrees........ Power....... Green deck.

[FX: Jet fighter cockpit, engines cycling up and down, stall warning buzzer, engines going to full power. Fighter landing on deck. Fighter taxing to stop.]

No thank you, Lieutenant. Right now all I want is to find that crew. Healthy and intact.

Lieutenant, as a matter of fact you can. Have someone get a hold of Lieutenant Lee, and get his tail end out here.

Yes, sir. I guess things are looking better right now. With any luck we'll have them aboard soon. But...

Sir, the doc said we're supposed to get you something to eat. Then try to get you to rest.

Is that so? He has never really been good at telling me these things to my face.

Cheryl opened her eyes to see only the sterile white of her surroundings. Her head pounded. There was wetness on the floor which appeared to be from still-damp cloths. She sat up and looked around finding that she was alone. She knew she was surely dead. The last thing she remembered was the pain raking her body from the weapon, fired by whatever had been outside the ship.

Where is Jim?....... Where are the others? ....... Where am I?....... Is this some sort of purgatory?

Who are you?.......Where did you come from?...... Where did you get that old flight suit?

I'm Lieutenant Greg Donaldson. I've been here for some time now. Who are you? And what sort of ship were you in?

I'm Cheryl Hoffman, I'm a biologist. What we were in was ... Where are the others?

All of you are fine. You were hit with a paralyzing pulse. It makes it easier ... for the first time.

Greg Donaldson. Greg is fine. I'm a lieutenant in the US Navy. Well, at least I was. I was commanding a training flight out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida when we crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. We were rescued and taken to the outpost.

That's an historical flight. At least in the recorded disappearances in the triangle. Why didn't you go back? Go home?

It's sort of a long story. But, in the simplest explanation, I can't leave. Without the healing powers of the Mers, I'll die.

I'm sorry, and this is probably none of my business. But, have you ever been married?

My friend ... he comes from Fort Lauderdale. His father went down in that flight. And ... he looks very much like you.

I'm really getting tired of feeling as if I've been hit by a train! Nothing makes sense anymore.

Commander Jim Donaldson, this is Lieutenant Greg Donaldson. He was the leader of flight nineteen.

The two men stood transfixed, motionless in time, space, thought. As Jim studied the man standing in front of him, he recalled the faded black and white photos of his father that were displayed throughout his mother's home.

We are all very much alive. And our hosts have the ability to maintain us for much longer than the normal life expectancy.

Not at all. Why once we had a guest named Jules who - by what I understand - wrote about me. In a way he wrote about all of us.

It's sittin' on the ocean floor. Completely full of water now. That's a mighty strange ship you were in. What'd ya'all call that thing?

After you were stunned, my ship was brought in and the door was forced open. Then you were transferred to my ship and brought here. How about answerin’ my question, what was that thing?

Well, the Mers live a long time. An incredibly long time. Somethin’ about 'em, lets them keep us alive, too. I've aged, oh, maybe five years since I've been here.

It's true... son. They've made medical advances that are unbelievable. By all rights I should be dead, because I was pretty badly hurt when my plane went down. They've kept me alive, and haven't asked for anything in return. We have taught some of them our language.

No ... some of us sort of have to stay, most everyone else can leave whenever they want. You said that your ship is a space shuttle. Does that mean that you have traveled into space?

Yeah. Hell, we've been all the way to the moon and back. I haven't been there, but we did take the shuttle out into space. Who determines ...

As Shalk entered the room, Jim's first impression was one of complete repulsion. He was reminded of the old movie classic, "Creature from the Black Lagoon." The face defied description. Jim could only see the hideousness of the greenish scaled being. Large, obviously strong, semi-webbed hands pulled it along. At the end was a massive dolphin-like tail covered in scales. Gills on either side of the thick neck were apparent, as was the fact that this creature could breathe air. Jim was also struck with something else, a sense that the being had both dignity and superior intelligence.

We have a problem. Whatever it was you did in that craft of yours led the Shoals to us. Some of their patrol escaped. It has caused some of my people to question whether you are their allies.

Outcasts. They did not wish to live by our codes, and were exiled. Ever since then they've done nothing but make war against us. Three times we have moved in attempts to get away from them..... and you Terrans.

Excellency, permit me. About twenty-five hundred years ago the Greeks started hunting them in the Mediterranean. They moved out beyond Gibraltar to an atoll. Then about a thousand years ago, right after Shalk became ruler, they moved to a place off the Bermuda coast...

Wait just one damn minute! I think I know where you're going with this. Are you trying to tell me he's more than a thousand years old and responsible for the triangle? No way! I’m not buying into any of this.

J.B., guys. Let’s hear this out. Think about this, there already have been more unexplained things happening on this trip than I care to number. Most of what is going on here is a lot easier to accept than what was going on with that damned computer! Please captain, continue.

It was the great Shoal attack about five hundred years ago when the city was heavily damaged. In fact it was nearly destroyed. That's when the city was moved here.

What about the triangle? It's in the Bermuda area and I thought we came down in the Pacific.

You did. In an effort to give the Shoals enough distance, Shalk decided to move here in the central Pacific. What was undamaged of the old city, is now maintained as an outpost. That's how I came to be among them. In 1865 we, my crew and I, were sent out to scuttle my ship. It was apparent that the North would soon win the war and General Lee didn't want the Yankee's to get their grimy paws on the Nautilus. We went down to the Carolina shores, I sent my crew ashore, then headed south and sent her to the bottom. I was going to find a deep hole and flood her. That's when I came across the outpost and was given refuge.

That's the ship that rescued you. She's still here and functional, though I don't understand that new power plant the Mers put in her.

I still don't buy into this. I don't know if this is Candid Camera or a nightmare!

Mister Browne ... you are a guest here and I would suggest that for the good of all your friends, you show King Shalk his due respect!

It is exactly this self-serving attitude that makes us hide ourselves from you Terrans. It seems that if reality is not exactly what you wish it to be, you destroy or alter it. Your kind has not only started the destruction of your realm of the world, but has now jeopardized ours!

When you used your sonic weapon, it not only hurt our patrol, but alerted the Shoals to our location.

Sonic device? I'm not completely sure what you're talking about. The only thing we were using prior to all hell breaking loose was ...

The radio! Radio carrier signals would have a disabling affect on most primitive marine ...... I'm sorry, sir. I'm a research biologist and I sometimes forget my place.

It is not necessary for you to apologize. However it is refreshing to see a Terran - I'm sorry - a Human, actually understand their lack of insight.

[FX: The groups leaves the room, followed by Shalk pulling himself along. Fade to carrier deck sounds and sea noises. Footsteps approaching.]

No, not a whole lot. A few thermo clines, a school of fish - they think - and a lot of water.

None that have panned out. So far we've tried everything that they've come up with. They have a brain trust trying to write out a section in the manual, in case this happens again. Typical.

I know, Jinx. I just can't figure it. The Rainmaker wouldn't make contact, say everyone's fine, then just go off the air. He's not that much of a maverick. He's got to know that we're out here looking.

When Rain gets back, don't let him off this ship without me. I'm like a mother hen whose chick is out of sight.

When he gets back, I may not let him out of my sight. I've never worried about a pilot like I do that kid. Sometimes I wish I were his father, so I could ground him.

Stand by California. ....... The admiral's on the bridge. Sir, the California has a sonar contact!

Sir, we have a sonar contact at three-five-one-five feet. There are no prior reported contacts in this area. Signal officer reports size is consistent with that of Atlantis.

Have a confirmation pass made. Then get a hydrophone as close as possible, and listen for life. Eagle-One, out.

Get a signal to Pearl - possible location of Atlantis three-five-one-five feet and give the California's location. Then get those NASA people the information.

Here's where the slow part of the game starts. Officer of the deck, bring the Nimitz to a stop.

Now we park it and wait. It will take some time for this size of ship to come to a complete stop. By that time the NASA people should be in my cabin.

I don't see any data as to the pressure or depth the shuttle's design can withstand. This is the poorest data supply I’ve had in nearly thirty years!

It looks like the only way to get the data is to take all of the separate components, figure them into some type of stress factor program and run it through the computer.

No. This was not something we ever anticipated. Frankly the thing should have been destroyed when it hit the water. The entry angle must have been so perfect that it is simply incomprehensible.

The pilot in command of the shuttle is the kind of guy who has the sky fall on him and still manages to come out unscathed.

A transmission that was unverified and supposedly received by a friend of the pilot. It would be very convenient to say that the crew was able to bring the ship down and that the demise of that crew was the designer's fault.

Hold on! I would bet the lives of the entire crew of this ship on what my flight officers tell me. As far as I'm concerned, their reputations are far above make believe. If there was a design fault that you’re hiding from us, you better come clean... Now!

Let me make this real simple. If you don't come clean, the duration of your stay on my ship will be in the brig!

This is Commander Clarke, security officer. Get the brig Marines up to conference room seven on the double!

Think again. At sea the commanding officer of a ship has supreme authority. And I never bluff.

There will be no second chances here. Just like the second chance the shuttle crew didn't get.

We think there may be an integrity problem if the cargo bay should flood......the problems lie in that checking for the fault was passed over due to.... A report saying such research was a ridiculous waste of time and manpower, that the possibility of such a series of events could never happen.

So, rather than accept the responsibility for your oversight, you actually want to find the shuttle, destroyed, and write the whole thing off as pilot error?

Do you realize the damage to the reputation of the space program should there be any hint of a fault? Look at how long it took us to recover from the Challenger disaster. We need to control the information going out in this case.

I cannot believe what I'm hearing! You nuts are looking to hang the crew out as scape goats, just so that your reputation goes undamaged?

To hell with NASA. I'm talking about you....... Wait. It was your report that delayed the testing of this possible fault, wasn't it?

I do. I will not allow a pompous ass like you to tarnish the reputation of one of my pilots. And, as of right now we are going to run this show my way! I'm going to find that crew, alive, then parade them in front of the media and crucify you!

I simply will not allow you to take over this operation. This is my show, and it will be run my way.

I want this man held in the brig. The rest of these civilians are under house arrest, and are restricted to their quarters!

[FX: Hand cuffs being placed on and the NASA group being escorted out of the conference room. Footsteps going down the hallway cut off by the door closing.]

I hope you're right. Now let’s get a plan together to fulfill my threat. I want that crew found and found alive.

Good morning, Max. You don't like these early morning calls either, do you? This must be from a ship with all the static.

Admiral Hoffman. What the hell are you calling me for at this time of day, sir? They finally trying to take that ship away from you now that they gave you a star?

We have a pretty bad situation going on here right now. I don't want to go into it all right now, but suffice it to say that I need your expertise.

That's right. I'll call Norfolk and get some TDY orders cut for you........ And, Alan.

[FX: Phone hanging up. Closet opening, zipper on travel bag. Click of coffee maker and gurgling as the brewing starts.]

This is petty officer Nelson, sir. There will be a car to pick you up in twenty minutes.

[FX: Phone hung up then picked back up and a number dialed. Phone ringing on other end.]

Sorry to call so early. I have to leave on business so I'll need you to come by and take care of Max.

I really don't know. I don't even know for sure for how long. As usual you can stay here if you want.

[FX: Phone being hung up. Shower door closes. Cut to garage echoes. Footsteps crossing.]

Well. No one's real sure. It made an uncontrolled reentry and has basically vanished. Then yesterday, we had a whole bunch of problems. Not the least of which was a missile launch against the Nimitz by a Russian Badger.

What are the possibilities of the shuttle surviving a medium angle entry into water?

That's the only conclusion I can come up with. Why else bring a marine scientist out to the scene?

Me. I spent six years studying marine biology. Not to mention that the shuttle commander is an old friend.

Sounds a little out there to me, but then again just about anything is possible.

Thanks. Get any of the information you can find on that question out to me as soon as you can.

Passengers on Northwest flight seven-oh-four, the flight has been delayed from six-fifteen to nine-thirty.

We have a problem getting the plane to the gate, so we have to bring a replacement plane from Dulles. It will only be a three-hour delay.

First, I don't have three hours to wait and what about the missed connection in Chicago? Second, why can't the plane here get to the gate?

The connections in Chicago are easy sir. We can route you through Minneapolis... and have you in San Francisco about one PM tomorrow. The plane ...

Wait just one damn minute. I don't have to be in San Francisco tomorrow, I have to be there today!

Put me on another airline. I don't care what you have to do, get me to California.

To answer your question about the plane, we can't locate it to get it to the gate.

And I'm supposed to trust you to get me to California? Just book me through on another airline.

Everything else is full. I found an open seat on a flight out of Chicago that arrives in San Jose at one-forty.

Look, I can't go into all of the things that're happening in the world that your little mind can't comprehend. Let me say this just one more time. I need to be in San Francisco, California today. I'm going to walk over to the phone and make a call. Have everything straightened out when I get back.

I think I have it now, Sir. I found a combination that puts you in San Francisco at five-twenty tonight.

You'll need to board right away at gate twenty-three. You're booked through on first class because of the inconvenience.

[FX: Alan hurries through the terminal and gets on his flight. Commercial jet backing away from gate. Fade to silence.]

All of the patrols are back from the surface. There are a large number of ships that seem to be looking for the Terrans.......... Father?

I heard you. It is a touchy and unusual set of circumstances. Thank you for the report my friends, you may leave.

Area Seven intelligence office. Petty Officer Burke speaking, may I help you, Sir?

Yes, sir. Well at least some of it. It seems that NASA never considered this a possible scenario. So they never tested the models for such a set.

NASA's not being real cooperative. I'm not sure that they'll give me the base data. I may have to create the entire thing from scratch.

Hours maybe, Sir. Call me from California. I'll stay here at the office and work on the program and the simulation until I get it.

Mister Nemo. I would like you to take your ship to the surface and see what's going on. You are an officer in their military and would be more likely to understand the events that are going on up there.

We will start boarding the first class section of our flight to San Francisco now.

Look. I don't have time to argue with you, so find me a seat on this flight. I don't care if you get off and I ride in your jump seat, I will be on this aircraft when it leaves.

No, I will not get off. I have to get to California to make a connection out of Alameda Naval Air Station at seven-thirty this evening. So you make the necessary arrangements.

Why had the crew not been able to retake control of the shuttle? Jim is a good pilot and should have been able to maintain control of the craft easily. Why couldn’t the search teams not find the shuttle, or at least some debris from the ship if it broke up?

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking. We made very good time out here and should be on the ground in about thirty minutes. On behalf of the crew I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for flying Northwest.

This is the captain again. It seems that the gate where we are supposed to park has a plane in it that won't start. So we have to sit out here until they can get it started and backed out. Please stay seated until we arrive at the gate.

Great. At this rate I could have walked out here faster than flying with these guys.

Don’t get me started on that. Sitting on the taxiway for twenty-five minutes is not what I expected.

Sir. You keep your nose in that report and you’ll miss all of the beauty of the bay.

[FX: The car slows to stop. Then accelerates for a short time then stops. Engine is shut off.]

How am I supposed to get out there? The only plane out here is an F-fourteen. God knows I haven’t flow one much in the last few years.

You really think that I'm going to let you fly this plane in that type of dress, Dancer?

It has been a long time since I’ve heard that name. I was expecting a C-two, J. W. You still teaching down in Beesville?

Nope, I'm at Miramar. When I heard that Hoffman lost a 'cat, and that you were going out, I offered to fly back seat for you.

Yep. He said that he wants the second best pilot in the Navy back where he belongs. But, as I said, I can't be seen in the company of someone dressed that way. Here, you can get dressed in the hanger. Flight shoes and helmet are waiting for you there.

Good. You remember how to preflight one of these things, or do I have to do that for you, too?

Well I figured that a couple of years of flying a desk and you'd have lost your edge

I've been doing about ten hours a week in the simulator. I'm not going to let myself get out of practice. Let's get on with it, I really want to get in the air.

You're sounding natural up there, Dancer. Come left to one-nine-three and put her on cruise.

Dancer, we're supposed to be flying at point eight. Should marry up with the tanker in about six hours.

Isn't he the one that snagged all of the flags out of the locker when he left the ship?

That was never confirmed. Besides, that was under the command of a skipper who was a yankee without a sense of humor.

Not really. He's just not one to cross. In any event, I want him here. He knows Jim better than most anyone else, except Jinx and his problem solving will be most useful for this situation. Besides, he’s the only marine biologist I know of that is also a pilot and a weapons expert.

Alex had been the commander of the Soviet Union's Kursograff spy trawler for several years. Over the years he had seen the Americans do some very strange maneuvers, but nothing as strange as what they were doing now. An entire task force literally parked in the middle of the ocean. The trawler came to a stop. The Americans were nearly a hundred miles away and now even the largest ship, which he was sure was a carrier, had come to a complete stop. There was the group of smaller ships sitting almost completely stationary about five miles away from the main group and using their active sonar heavily.

I need to think about this for a few minutes. What are they doing? It will not take the American pilots long before their aircraft will be buzzing around my ship.

[FX: Door opens and closes. Electrical sounds end and sounds of small ship at sea. Distant whistle of approaching jet fighters, grows louder and more intense as a pair of fighters do a low level fly-by. Rumble of afterburners and vibration of ship.]

Damn American Tomcat pilots. Why are you kneeling on the floor mister political officer?

That was a fly-by. They're attempting to tell us that they don't want us this close to their aircraft carrier.

You really are pretty new at this part of the game. We call in and see. But, normally we just sit out here and take what they give us.

Most certainly. In the meantime, since we are suppose to be a fishing trawler, let's put some nets in the water.

God, I hate being out here at sea like my father used to be. This is all his doing, keeping me form working in the air directorate like I wanted to. I wish I could fly like those Americans.

That isn't much of a great concern. Most of these trawler skippers are used to us trying to bust their eardrums.

Not unless we do something real stupid, like shoot first. They are under the same orders we are. Don't shoot unless fired on.

After what we did? Then that's as good as a confession. Fishermen would be running, not laying nets. I’ve done this enough times that I’ve seen the real fisherman run for home when we get close........ Slide, let's take a station here and see what those creeps do.

No, not yet, he's still my insect. Some of the ground crew are still calling him rookie. I guess we have to name him soon.......... Spearhead, this is Tomcat two-zero-seven.

Roger. Standard Mayak class trawler. He's got his deck hands laying the nets after two fly-bys.

[FX: Cut to trawler pilot house sounds. Alex walks across pilot house on broken glass.]

You're not the usual KGB officer we have had on board before. Have you ever come this close to the Americans?

No. This is the first assignment. I really did not want a ship assignment. I wanted to be home at night.

Well, you're stuck out here with us. Try to set a better example in front of the crew. If they see you scared they'll have no respect for you.

Thank you captain. I know political officers were not often looked upon favorably by the real sailors. I will try harder.

This is very strange. The compass is not working correctly, it is spinning wildly.

I don't believe so. Nothing like this ever happened before and I have had the American fighters do worse than this.

All of the radars are starting to fade on and off. None of the radios are working, I can't explain it!

I'll go down and take a look. It will give me something to keep my mind off of those damnable jets. Besides, I do know quite a bit about computers and electronics.

[FX: Demitri and radioman enter electronic room. Power surging, static from radio speakers has rhythmic cycling pattern. Paper being torn from printer.]

We're not sure yet, Sir. It came up from the deep, started to go shallow, and then stopped. Then..... here...... It started to reduce the range slowly. It was then we started to get these power surges and now I can't tell where it is.

I don't think so. There has been no large cargo aircraft in the area. Only the C-two's and they can't carry one.

I guess that looking at it through these binoculars is not going to make him any more likely to surface. Still none of our instruments are working. I’ve never encountered anything like this before.

I was asking him who he is. Not that I expect an answer, but his jamming equipment is incredible. I've never been subjected to such a form of jamming.

This is like... sort of, the stories from the Americans' so called Devil's Triangle.

Captain, I not implying that we are experiencing such a phenomenon. I'm just making an observation.

There is a periscope watching us. It seems to be holding station about a hundred meters off our port side and almost dead amidships. If we were in combat, I would be expecting a torpedo. Hand me that flare gun.

Slide, the trawler is sending up a signal flare. Let's go down and play like friends.

Roger. I don't think we damaged him that badly. We're going down low and slow to check it out.

Real strange magnetic signals to the north of your target. Also, about three minutes ago all radio and radar emissions ended. It's almost as if some one has pulled their plug.

There’s a second flare. Leveling out at six-zero feet, air speed two-six-zero knots.

I don't even see a wake. This is too weird. .......I see a man standing in front of the pilothouse pointing out to the left of the ship........ What the hell.. My compass is spinning, gauges are starting to go nuts!

I don’t think he can hear you, Gar. He is still going straight over the trawler...... It looks like they have lost power they are heading for the water..... They punched out! Two chutes, they’re okay.

Spearhead, this is two-zero-seven. We lost two-one-one! They ejected. Crew in the water.

Not too sure. It must have been that magnetic field. We started to feel some of the effects and bugged out. Maybe he didn't notice them in time.

I'm in a circle over the target. Flight six-thousand. Request to cover the rescue.

The crew of the trawler is getting a life boat over the side. Sir, what could have caused such an intense field that it could impact on the systems?

The trawler is sending out a boat for the crew. Both seem fine........ Wait what is..... I have a wake of something just below the surface of the water. They're under attack!

I am not sure, but it looks like a king-sized torpedo and we have no power to maneuver. It must be some sort of submarine.

[FX: Wake slamming into ship. Items being tossed around the ship creaking. Several seconds later the engines refired and the electronics come on.]

We had experienced some kind of effect that impacted on all of our systems. I believe it was related to what I think was a submarine that made a run at us................ Hawkeye one-six, did you get my last transmission?

Hawkeye one-six, they signaled that they are fine. I will let them speak with you as soon as they are on board.

Thank you Kursograff. We are sending a rescue helicopter to pick them up. Do you require any assistance?

After this many years of following their Navy around, most of it just sticks in your head.

I do not see that we have any choice. If I were in their commander’s shoes, I would have a bomber sitting at the ready to blast us into little pieces.

You never show your entire hand too early. There is still a possibility that they might think we lured their fighters in to shoot one down.

We're okay. Something happened as we got near the trawler. All power shut down and all controls went south.

No. In fact, we started to lose power just about the time it was close enough to start an ID run.

My political officer wants to know if the jamming that caused all of our systems to shut down, was from one of your ships?

If the task force commander thinks that we caused the fighter to crash, that could be construed as a hostile act and could result in a short sea battle. The bottom line, that our two twin fourteen and a half millimeter deck guns would be no challenge to the Americans. We need to relay to the Americans that this was not a trap, but a coincidence.

Show the pilot the printouts indicating our power losses as well as the tracking information on what ever that was.

My political officer has directed me to show the pilot the computer printouts. They will show that the vessel we were tracking impacted on all of our systems as it got closer. Excuse me for a minute.

Here, sir. This is where we first picked him up. He was coming shallow from a deep ravine, at this time he was about four thousand meters off the port bow. As he got to this point, he was two-hundred feet deep and had closed to fifteen-hundred meters. He was staying off my port bow.

Nothing solid. It was too small to be a standard sub and its movements too smooth to be a DSRV.

Yes. Just prior to firing the flare, I had been watching a periscope. Then here, when the target got to a distance of just under one thousand meters, the compass started to spin rapidly in reverse. Once he got to about six-hundred meters everything, even the engines, quit.

Captain, I'm not really sure what all this means. Would you mind if Clint looks this over?

It would go far to help settle any apprehensions that may still be in play, Demitri.

I was not been able to get a good look at my instruments before we lost power and had to eject. But what you have described was fairly consistent with what I experienced.

We're on approach. We'll pick you up off the amidships deck. Ask your friends if they can swing that boom to the starboard, that will give us a clear approach from the port side.

[FX: Helicopter approaches then hovers over ship. Jeff and Clint walk out to deck area.]

You are welcome. Maybe between us we can figure out what the hell that thing was.

[FX: Helicopter lands and powers down. Jeff and Clint run across deck and enter the island. Door closes.]

I'm not completely sure. I saw Garfield break left, then my radio went static. Then a second or so later, the power went. Then I ejected.

No, sir. All my systems went down about the time Garfield broke off. I tried to talk to Slide, but nothing worked. Then I saw him reach for the ejection handles, so I followed his lead.

Not from the trawler, sir. They showed us their computer tracks on the... well they're calling it a sub, that seemed to be the cause.

That must be what I saw making the run at the thing. It was going for the amidships on the port side. There for a second I thought it was going to ram her.

Christ, you should have seen it from where we were. It was like some sea monster, spiny back and all!

That's the best way to describe it. A large fish, large eyes on the side, and large curved spins on its back.

It sounds like it's right out of the pages of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. What do you think, sir?

I'm not sure what to think. I want them to give full descriptions to the intelligence people, then put them on the schedule for a three day liberty.

Notify fleet that we lost a Tomcat... mechanical failure this time. Have Slide and Jester report to San Diego after liberty and pick up another replacement. I'm going to have the Bennington stand down, since the plane went down I've had them ready to launch a Harpoon.

U S reports loss of space shuttle Atlantis. Task force may be the search party. Take no offensive posture. Offer any assistance in the search that can be rendered. Signed admiral Rammov, Intelligence fleet directorate.

We have been directed to aid you in any way we can. Request permission to close to thirty miles. We will turn off all monitors, if you so request.

Sir, the sonar capabilities of the Soviet AGI's are pretty good. If they have made the offer to help, well, I say let's take it. Besides, it gives us an opportunity to get some close ups of them for a change.

You are always thinking, aren't you? Give them permission to join the search. ...............Without their monitors.

You may join in the search. Request no monitors. Proceed inbound, will direct you as needed.

[FX: Low murmurs of a crowd in an indoor pool area. Jim and Greg enter the room, footsteps echoing.]

These are the Terrans who were brought here. I have spoken with them and believe they pose no harm to us.

The leader of this group has shown me he means well. His only knowledge of the Shoals is what he has learned from us.

I believe their only concern is to rejoin their own. I feel that this is best for all of us. It is also reported by our patrol that there is extensive surface activity, most likely a search party.

I must return to the battle. The Shoals are much more in number than ever before!

In this condition you're not going to do anyone any good. Randy! Get over here! Now, let's take care of this.

Let them help you. They are correct in their assessment, you can do little good out there in this condition.

We are not aggressors. We are not well versed in fighting. It is only through Mister Nemo and your fellow Navy personal that we have learned what little we know. And when we exiled the Shoals, it was only logical not to give them the technology we had. That could have truly been our undoing!

Yes, at least biologically. They are just more aggressive and have completely different values.

[FX: Three set of footsteps crossing a gang way, then trotting along steel hull.]

Captain, I don't have time to explain this to you right now, but we've got to get to my ship ...Now!

[FX: Hatch being closed and latched. The sounds of the engines coming to life and the Nautilus submerging.]

I need to get into the bridge of my ship. You said it was filled with water. How full?

Great! Ferg, you and I will suit up. We'll get the satellite and secure it to the foredeck. Then you can recalibrate it.

I see that this little excursion is in your control, but would you kindly tell me what in God's name you've got in mind!

Captain, the carrier signal for the radio signal we were using has some sort of paralyzing affect on the Mers. Seeing how the Mers and Shoals are the same ... things, it is logical to assume that they will also be affected the same way.

Yes, but the effect seems to be only temporary. As far as being temporarily paralyzed versus being dead, I think that paralyzed is better.

It'll take too long to explain. Let's just suppose that it works. We could rig it so that it could be activated from inside the city. But we've got to hurry!

I hear that! Maybe all this 'confirm the target' garbage could have been avoided. How long before the maintenance program gets done?

Sir, I have a second target, sir. Bearing zero-eight-two, range to Sierra one-seven two-hundred meters and closing.

Don't think so, its course and speed are too steady. Stand by con... Second target is slowing, range to Sierra one-seven now about twenty meters.

Aye, aye Sir ... Sir, Sierra one-eight has come to a stop ten meters beside Sierra one-seven. Computer says one-eight is a new track. I should have a profile on it in a couple minutes.

[FX: Cut to inside the Nautilus with sonar bouncing off the out side of the ship.]

I suppose that's a search-rescue group looking for us. We're on a tight schedule. Ferg, let's get wet!

Not by what the sonar man said; its movements were all very deliberate. I would have to conclude that it's being piloted. What exactly it is and by whom ... I don't know.

Send what we've got up to Pearl. Let them make the next call. Tell the California to secure the sonar run for now. I want them to run a track every ten minutes. If there's any movement or change, follow it and let me know!

I have Dancer inbound three hundred fifty miles out. He'll be ready for a trap in about twenty minutes.

Thank you, Charlie. Prepare the Nimitz to receive aircraft. We have an inbound fighter.

I hope they get back and we get out of here before that damned noise starts over again.

Hell yes! If it were me, I would. 'Bout every ten minutes, just to keep an eye on us - so to speak.

I mean like ramming the ships and sinking them, then leaving their crew to drown.

Missy, wars are not pleasant things to endure. Hell, I'd like it if there were never another one. But that's simply not realistic, anywhere. Yes, I used the Nautilus to ram warships and sink 'em, but if I had commanded a sailin' ship I would've sunk 'em with cannons. The difference is that bein' a submarine, I never knew for certain the fates of the crews. Some of the Union folks considered me barbaric. Yet, if they had been successful in buildin' somethin' like my Nautilus, they probably would've thought differently.

The victor in any war is always right. The end justifies the means, I do believe the saying goes.

And if I'd been a Union skipper, I'dve been decorated as a hero. It's all dependin' on which side wins, as I said before.

Jim and Dan made their way to the side hatch on Atlantis. They could see where something had scorched it as it burned through the outer skin. The hatch was still open, but the batteries appeared undamaged by the exposure. Marker lights on the shuttle and the cabin lights were still functional.

Jim entered first and waited for Dan. As they headed for the bridge, Jim motioned for Dan to go to the cargo bay access. At the cargo bay controls, everything appeared operational to Jim. He threw a switch; an instant later, the bay was filled with light. He could see Dan beside the satellite, already starting to free the binding straps. As he got ready to throw the switch to open the bay doors, the hole in one of the two doors caught his eye. It looked as if a large bullet had gone through the metal. Curious, but knowing that time did not permit him the luxury of exploring this mystery, he threw the switch and watched as the doors opened at a slow and steady rate. Once he was certain the door would open, he headed down to the bay access.

Dan was almost finished unhooking the satellite when Jim moved up beside him. Flashing sparks caught Dan's eye and he looked over to the bulkhead dividing the bay and the control area. Lodged in the wall was a large piece of metal. He gestured to Jim, who made his way to it quickly and dislodged the metal object. The area that had been struck was the main logic circuits for the shuttle. It was only accessible from the bay area, so there was no way for the crew to trouble-shoot that part of the systems without donning an environment suit. Jim looked at it and shook his head, then handed the object to Dan.

As they reached the open bay doors with the satellite, Nemo maneuvered the Nautilus close enough to load from the wide open bay doors. It was apparent that Nemo wanted to hasten their departure. They positioned the satellite on the foredeck of the Nautilus, quickly tying it down as Dan signaled that he was going to start the recalibration. Jim indicated that the frequency needed to be set at one-one-zero-point-five.

Nemo quickly began moving his ship the moment the strange device was on his deck. He knew that if it were he up on the surface, in a minute or so the sonar would restart. He hoped to be far enough away that they wouldn't find him. But he had to move slowly enough to not lose the two men who were on his foredeck.

That damn thing is banging away on the emergency frequency, Rain. Captain, you need just a little more air storage in those tanks. I almost didn't make it back in!

Butcha' did. You youngsters are workin' too hard. We'll get back soon. I just hope it's not too late!

If I do that I'll lose the depth. I can't go any wider on the band. Searching in this depth is the classic needle in the haystack story. The only reason we were able to find the first one was that those flyboys found that radio carrier signal. It gave us the area where we could concentrate. If it moved even only a couple hundred meters out of range, it could take hours to locate it.

Apparently, it moved when the sonar was off. We can't do a wider band and maintain the depth. Do you want us to break off of the first contact and attempt to locate the second?

No ... Let's concentrate on what we have. I'll be in sick bay. If anything else happens, call me there!

Dancer is on final and should be on the deck in a couple of minutes. Any messages for him?

Yes. Get him all of the information we have compiled in the last few days, and tell him I'll see him in an hour in my in port cabin.

As soon as we maneuver through this narrow canyon we will come into the area of Atlantis city.

Looks like we haven’t missed the entire thing, I see flashes from the pulse rifles and flying spears.

It would appear that my guess is right. The carrier signal is paralyzing them. With any luck this will end the conflict. I hate seeing any creature suffer, but this solution is much more viable than the alternative. That group there ... The ones leaving, take a bearing on them!

You got it! Will you look at that..... All I did was point this old lady at them and they fell as if they were shot dead. What am I supposed to do? Follow the Shoals all the way back to their city?

[FX: Fade in conference room on the Nimitz, muffled jet taking off in background.]

Lee, what good will that do? You have their written reports; what else can you get from them?

Maybe if I can get a drawing of what they saw. It might make a little more sense.

[FX: Door opens, three men enter and door closes. Clint and Jeff walk to table and sit down.]

Simply put, your description of ... whatever it was that made a run on the trawler, is unclear. I'd like a little better description and drawings if possible.

Yes, Sir. I guess if it were me on the other side of the table, our story would be difficult to believe.

I was able to use some old spec data and set up a computer simulation. The results were actually quite remarkable.

Well, Sir, it seems that there is a fairly large angle that the shuttle could enter the water and not sustain crippling damages.

Yep. The best is that it would appear, at least through the computer simulations, as if it could take nearly six hundred fathoms of pressure.

Yes, sir. I've down-loaded the program into the satellite system, so you should have access to the information in just a few minutes. And one more thing, sir.

It seems that NASA never considered this possibility. I could find no direct data, everything is reverse calculated.

A program that can run test angles of entry and pressure depths is being loaded into our computers.

I had one of my petty officers complete the program. He did it in less than twenty-four hours. It would seem that the shuttle can take the stress for that depth. Not bad for a bunch of sailors, wouldn't you say?

It would appear that some of the materials used may not have been to the proper specifications.

So the simulations may not be accurate, I don't believe this. How in God's name can you guys live with yourselves?

Lee this is not getting us anywhere. We'll worry about the particulars later. For now, let's work on getting the crew back.

Yes, Sir. In that case, we need to alter the program with the correct values and rerun the simulations.

I'm not sure if all of the current values are in these sheets, but I can give you the ones we do have.

It's better than nothing. Let's get going. We'll have to start in the computer center now, I'll need a terminal installed here as soon as possible.

[FX: Fade to pool area cheers greet the surfacing Nautilus. Jim, Cheryl and Dan came out and walk off the ship, heading over to their friends. Nemo started to follow them but turned and approached the strange thing strapped to the foredeck of his ship.]

I guess I hate to see the good guys in a fix. It seemed like the right thing ... hell, the only thing to do. Besides, I could never resist a good fight.

No, sir! I'm in yours. First you saved my father, than my crew. I'll always owe you that, Shalk.

If any of you wish to leave, we will make it so and arrange for your departure. We owe you that.

We do ... But not until we've mounted the radar and the transmitter on the Nautilus. This way, Atlantis will be safe from the Shoals.

Nolwak, if you'll give us some of your men, we can tell them what to remove from my ship. It'll be easier for you than it would be for us in Nemo's suits.

J. B., Ferg, brief them on what needs to come off the shuttle, then have Nemo take you to the ship and make sure that we get it all.

I can't. When my plane crashed, I had some pretty massive internal damage. I nearly died. The Mers removed some of my organs. I don't really know how they do it, but here I can live - I'm healthy. If I were to go back with you, at best I'd be hospitalized for the rest of a certainly short life.

I know, and I would love to see her, too. But, when you tell her about me and all this, she'll tell you that knowing I'm alive and well is far better for her.

That's really up to Shalk, but he's got a very large generous streak. And you've done a lot in the good relations department today.

Well, it wasn't really planned and with my long streak of bad relationships... Let's just say that this is sort of a new experience. The only bad part is that her dad is my admiral.

Really? That could be quite an uncomfortable combination. How long have you two been together?

It sort of is, we've know each other for about ten years. I was married when we first met; it's been only the last few years that we have been attracted to each other. But we were too intimidated to say a thing.

Well, why don't the three of us take a long walk through the city? I've got some catching up to do. And, maybe, some fatherly advice on long marriages. This way we'll have some memories to hang onto for the rest of our lives.

My dad has been on the verge of grounding Jim for years. Mostly due to his aggressiveness in the air.

You're dating your admiral's daughter? And, he let you two go on the mission together? That sounds a little strange.

Well, Mister Donaldson, my dad doesn't know, and Jim never really knew that I was in love with him. I told him when we started to crash ... I was scared of dying.

Actually, things have changed a whole lot since then. Now we have jet fighters that fly more than twice the speed of sound. Missiles have replaced aerial gun fights.

Sure is. Not quite the same as flying the shuttle. God! Not to just reach the envelope, but to actually reach space.... it's indescribable. To fly up and look down on the planet is just so peaceful, serene.

It's where the atmosphere ends and space begins. Reaching it has been the goal of most pilots. It's sort of a rush to get near it with our jets

Sure. I got a pair of Russian-built bombers over Lebanon, a Russian fighter over Libya and an American-built fighter over Iran.

One of our give-away programs gave some of our fighters to Iran so as to 'civilize' the country. A few years later, we were shooting down the planes we gave them, flown by pilots we had trained.

The whole thing is almost inconceivable. Flying rocket planes around the skies, at unbelievable speeds, shooting down aircraft that were made in the same factory as yours. Going into space. It is all a little overwhelming. Where is Iran?

It really wasn't all that glamorous. I got out of flight school about nine months before the Japanese surrendered. By the time I made fleet, I saw only about six months of action. By that time, most of the Japanese pilots who were left ran rather than fought. I was flying a Corsair and got two Zeros. Then the war ended and I was transferred to a training squadron.

[FX: The trio stops and a door opens. The sound of industrial machinery running.]

This is the power source. I'm not really sure how it works, I just know that it works. And this part over there is were the air is generated.

This is incredible! This appears to be a fusion-style reactor. The air is actually generated in the cooling process. There is no waste material and nothing is wasted.

I wouldn't go that far; I understand the principles. But, it does appear to resemble some of the models I've seen at conventions. I've never had time to read up on all of the particulars, but I do remember that many people feel that this will be the heart of an underwater city. The major difference is that this is a number of times larger than anyone had purposed and this one is obviously operational.

Thank you. One of the real advantages of this type of reactor is the lack of detectable radiation.

Very doubtful. The radiation output is so little, it's hardly detectable at close ranges. From the surface, it would have to be next to impossible. The only thing that might be detectable is the heat, and that might only register as a magma oozing.

As I said earlier, she never remarried. She lived in the house that you two had moved into until about three years ago. I got her a townhouse in a new complex then. She refused to leave the area of the base. I used to think that she was waiting for you to walk in the door. The only way I could get her to move was to find a place that let her see the airfield. It wasn't so bad, until they closed the base.

Yeah and it was heart-breaking for Mom. It was like some kind of barrier went up. She didn't speak for weeks.

Oh God, I haven't thought about that in years. I was an ensign and was on leave at home. A couple of friends of mine thought that I spent too much time alone and decided that I needed to date.

No... the blind date scared me, so I left the party early and met your mother at the gas station on the way back to the base. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She and her two friends couldn't get the gas nozzle in their tank, or so they wanted me think. I helped her and she introduced herself. We started dating the next night and dated every night until I left for fleet. She wrote me while I was with fleet; sometimes I'd get three or four letters a week. It was great. We became so close through those letters! When I got sent back to Fort Lauderdale as an instructor, she had graduated from college in Miami and moved back. Soon after, we got married.... God, it was only a few months later that we crashed ...

[FX: Fade to the conference room. Coffee cup being refilled. Door opens one man enters.]

I see old age is catching up with you Mister Lee. When did you start wearing glasses?

I'm supposed to meet with the admiral and some of the NASA guys. We're having dinner, I think. How are you doing these days? I haven't heard anything about you since the flags came up missing.

And none to support your claim of innocence. But, I did have a chance to talk with the chief on the California once.

I hope this dinner thing won't take too much time, I've got a lot of ground to cover. By the way...... What do you make of these?

So far, I have considered them real. They're from one of your flight crews, Slide and Jester. But I've never seen anything that matches these descriptions. How about you?

This is something right out of Jules Vern! These have to be either a joke, or a nightmare.

I'm requesting the DSRV for tomorrow. It may be some time before we hear the actual timetable for that. Alan, you know Jim pretty well. Is there something he could have done wrong?

Looking at the reports, I can't think of a single thing that should've, or could've, been done differently, Sir.

Not hardly! After reading this .... here. This is a transcript of messages sent between ground and Atlantis early in the morning the day of the crash. Mission Control knew, in fact they told Atlantis, that there was a computer malfunction.

Would you like me to read the transcript to you? A transcript provided by NASA?....... Mission control: Good morning Atlantis. Local time at mission control is zero-five-thirty. You are due to cross the terminator in fifteen minutes. The agenda for the day ...

Lieutenant, I've had a chance to read those. I'm not sure that it's an indication that it is all computer related. There is still a chance there could be some type of pilot error.

No way. One of the most cool-headed fighter jocks you'll ever meet is in charge of that ship. If it has wings and is flyable, Rain can make it turn itself inside out.

No, I don't think he is, I know he is! I flew his wing in Lebanon and, brother, I don't care if we were at twenty or twenty thousand feet, he flew rings around any other pilot. Have you ever met a pilot who has won both the Flying Cross and has been nomination for the Medal of Honor?

Then you can't make any judgment about his abilities. You civilians think that what we do is easy. I'd like to get you up there and see how long you can last.

I don't know, sir. Just sit tight and wait for the DSRV. I would like to go over to the Soviet AGI and interview their crew. Maybe with their views, the entire picture will come into focus.

Then that's what we'll do. Alan, keep on with your project. Richard, I would like it if you and my other combat pilot here can get along. Can you assist him with his work?

Yeah, Alan got five kills in a relatively short six and a half years. He was lucky on the last two, but he shows such imagination that he's a little scary.

He has been doing shore duty for the last year and a half because of an injured arm. I understand that his arm is much better now and he may be returning to fleet.

Alan, you and Richard can go over to the trawler. I agree that their input is necessary.

I want to have a helo ready for a rescue at all times and have the ready five on the deck.

That's a moot point at this time, they'll be aboard in a few minutes. After all we were instructed to cooperate, I’m cooperating. We should go down and greet them.

[FX: The sounds of a small power boat approaching and pulling beside the trawler.]

At Navy language school. To quote one of your great writers, the best defense from a foe is to understand him. I'm Lieutenant Lee. I want to talk to you about the attack on your ship. Do you mind?

They were banging away the whole time the ship was being stripped. Captain Nemo moved his ship around so they couldn't get a fix on him.

Then we'll have to start making preparations to get your crew back to your ships. Your group will be taken to the surface by Mister Nemo.

Thank you, Shalk. It has been wonderful for you to help us. This city is unbelievable, I'm not sure what to think about everything I've seen here.

We appreciate all you and your crew have done for us. For all of my people, thank you.

Any ideas on what all those blips were that the sonar was picking up all afternoon?

No, Sir. Intell seems to think they were maybe just a school of fish. It would be a logical explanation.

Logic. Intell. Now, there's a scary thought. Has anyone run all that by Lieutenant Lee?

That there was no way in hell he could know. That no fish, schooling or not, would act like that.

At least he knows enough to give me a straight answer. Tell him I want him in the DSRV when it goes down in the morning.

I was looking out there to the South with these binoculars and for a moment, I thought I saw a periscope.

Sir, I for one will be glad to put this area behind us. There are way too many strange things happing here for me!

I know the feeling. Get CAG on the line and have sonar on the ships not over the shuttle keep a lookout for any submarine activity.

CAG, I want a Hawkeye, a couple F fourteens and a helo up. I think something's about to happen. ..... XO, prepare the Nimitz to launch aircraft!

Are you kidding? Riding back seat to Rain and Bee, seems like that's all I ever do!

He had his RIO convinced for nearly four years that he was landing with his eyes closed!

I'm showing you at your outer patrol area. Start your normal patrol pattern, assigning you at one-six-hundred feet. You want it clockwise or counter clock?

It would appear that the track has started again. Demitri, I think we should take our guest down to the electronics room.

[FX: The group starts to leave the cabin. The power starts to surge on and off.]

Doubtful, but they should figure out that something is amiss when there are no lights. It is getting dark now.

Even if they do, the way this thing is hitting us I doubt that anyone could help us...... This is really weird.

It would appear that there is no longer a reason for us to remain here. Why don't we go up to the deck?

I guess in reality we're nothing special. Just a little luckier than the other poor bastards.

I don't fly much anymore. I hurt my elbow and for the last two years I've been assigned to an intelligence command.

No, I'm an airborne weapons analyst. I was requested to come out here because the commander of the shuttle and I used to fly together.

That's what we call home, captain. It's an aircraft carrier. It's too dark and far away to tell, but I got a feeling it's the Nimitz.

In that case it's time to bid y'all farewell. Make sure all the running lights are off before we surface.

With their radar, the minute you get on the surface, they'll know where you are.

Well then, you'll just have to hurry. I’ll move closer to one of the smaller ships, they won’t have any lights or power.... Ever since Shalk’s people replaced my power plant that happens when ever I come close to a ship. Don’t understand it and not sure I want to.

[FX: The Nautilus surfacing and the shuttle crew rushing out of the hatch and climbing into a row boat.]

You are most certainly welcome. Perhaps someday your people will become better caretakers of their part of this world, and we could live together in harmony.

I know. Maybe someday I'll come back and we can spend more time getting aquatinted.

Good-bye, Commander! Take a north course, about three hundred yards out is some type of small ship.

[FX: The sounds of the hatch closing and then the Nautilus submerging. The crew starts paddling.]

Helo one-six, this is Hawkeye one-seven. I'm showing two targets on the surface now. Continue on present course about five miles ahead. Just on the far side of the Soviet trawler.

Approach with caution, I'm getting the same type of local disturbances that were present when the 'Cat went down.

Helo one-six. One of the targets is going down. One left on the surface. It's taking a bearing on the trawler.

I missed you, too. We need to have a long talk about these long unauthorized deviations from your flight plan.

I think we should use your radio and call all of this in, then get these visitors off your ship and back to ours.

No problem, sir. We'll be heading back in a couple of minutes. Still have two more to get up into the helo and then we'll be on our way.

[FX: Jet fighters landing on deck followed by turbo-prop. Jet taxies to parking spot.]

I'm not completely sure that I want you to debrief them. In fact, I'm going to insist that NIS, under the supervision of Lieutenant Lee, conduct the debrief.

Admiral, I have no problem with the NIS being present, but I must ask that the debrief be conducted by us. We need to have complete access to the information...

Okay, Okay. Come on, guys, lets get this over with. Sir, any problem with a leave when we get home?

I was scared, too. Scared that I may have lost my little girl and what your mother would do. That would have crushed her

Hey, anyone who steals all of the flags off a ship as a joke ... What else could you call him?

Well, after that debriefing, most of which I’m sure will remain classified for years, it was sure nice to sit down to a meal that is not served in a pouch.

Not just shot down, but shot down by friendly fire..... I guess that would be the proper definition for a piece of Apollo space junk. It feels pretty weird, Sir.

All things considered, you did a hell of a job. I'm real proud of you and that you're in my command.

Thanks, Daddy. That something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about Jim.... I sort of fell for....

Not him ... You ... No! I can't take this! One disaster at a time! My ulcer is sure to act up now.

You're not the only one who's uncomfortable. You should have seen Jim turn white when he found out.

Send mail to adonnan@crystal-computing.net with questions or comments about this web site. Copyright © 2004 Crystal Computing Last modified: 06/18/06

Send mail to adonnan@crystal-computing.net with questions or comments about this web site.
Copyright © 2004 Crystal Computing
Last modified: 06/18/06