Katya's World (32 page)

Read Katya's World Online

Authors: Jonathan L. Howard

 

Kane leaned back in the
Vodyanoi
’s captain’s seat like a king returned to his throne.

Take us out to about two klicks at one third and bring us about. Slow and steady, duck us under a good thermal layer. We’re going to wait and watch developments.

 


Kane.

Lukyan looked at Katya and then back at Kane.

Kane?

Kane looked up at him.

What will become of you? I don’t know, Lukyan Pushkin. Not at the moment. We’ll just have to see what develops, won’t we?


Two thousand metres out from FP-1,

reported the helmsman.

Bringing us about.


I can hear launches,

reported the sensors operator.

Boat launches.

She paused listening intently.

Lots of them. Somewhere about forty.


Forty boats?

Katya was aghast.

Warboats?

Kane leaned forward in his seat.

Probably. Mostly copies of this one, I should think. Not quite as good, but numbers count for a lot. Can you track them?

he asked the sensors officer.

She shook her head.

Sorry, sir. They’re running silent as quickly as they can. Everybody’s playing hide and seek.

It was only to be expected; if the
Leviathan
saw them, it would ki
ll them. A submarine battle is a
strange mixture of tedium, terror and bewilderment, even more so than battles in other environments. It is perhaps the only battlefield where fortune
always
favours the cautious and firing first may be the worst thing to do. As a result, the best submarine commanders are cool, sanguine men and women who not only think clearly under pressure, but – just as importantly – think clearly when nothing is apparently happening. Still, Kane may have been pushing the stereotype of the unflappable submarine commander when he produced a yo-yo. Katya had never seen one before and watched in fascination as it descended and rose on its string with little apparent effort on Kane’s
part
.

What
is
that?

she asked finally.


This? It’s a yo-yo. It’s just a toy.


Where did you get it?


A little curiosity shop on Earth.

The yo-yo rose quickly and slapped into Kane’s hand where he held it tightly.

I bought it for my daughter.

The admission startled her slightly. She looked around for her uncle, but he had walked over to the navigation officer’s position and was irritating him by reading the instruments over his shoulder.

You have a daughter?

She said finally just for something to say. As soon as she did, she realised how stupid a question it was, as if it were something he might be mistaken about.

Kane didn’t seem to notice. He was looking intently at the yo-yo. Suddenly making his mind up, he carefully removed his finger from the loop at the end of the string and proffered the toy to her.

Would you like it?

Katya almost asked what about his daughter, but something stopped her. Instead, she took it from him.

Thank you.

Her acceptance seemed to please him and he smiled the tired, sad smile she’d come to know.

It’s all in the wrist action. There are tricks you can do with it, but I don’t know what they are. You’ll have to make some up for yourself.

The smile vanished as a low vibration thrummed through the
Vodyanoi
’s hull.

Sensors, what was that?


An explosion, sir, five degrees off to larboard.

Larboard?
mouthed Katya to Lukyan.


It’s an old way of saying
port
,

he explained, adding,

sometimes I think this lot have been playing ‘Pirates’ for too long.

A map of the area was flashed up on the main screen, the
Vodyanoi
’s position marked up at the centre. A flash mark indicated the direction and probable distance to the explosion.

The FP-1’s been hit,

said Kane.

I don’t think the Yagizban are going to take that lying down.

He was right. A moment later a volume of sea to the southwest of the platform was swarming with torpedoes hunting with active sonar pinging furiously.


There’s a lot of ambient sound energy out there,

said the sensors officer.

we may be detected, sir.


Yes, we may be, but if we back off we may miss something important. Hold our position but keep us quiet, helm.

They watched as the bright flashing lights of the torpedoes ran around in search patterns for several minutes until, one by one, they flickered out without a single effective detection of the target, much less a hit. For five long minutes, they watched the unchanging screen in silence. Then another flash appeared.

That’s a boat,

reported sensors crisply.

It’s bad, she’s going down. I can hear bulkheads crumpling.

Another flash.

Another boat’s hit; she’s…

Another flash, and another. The sensor operator swore under his breath.

It’s a massacre out there, sir. Four hits. Five. One’s limping, I think. No, another hit, she’s been finished off.

Katya spoke to Kane, but couldn’t take her eyes off the screen as new flashes appeared.

What’s the
Vodyanoi
’s full crew complement?


Thirty-seven,

replied Kane in a hoarse whisper, unable to tear his eyes away from the carnage being relayed to them as neat little symbols on a display screen.


And the Yagizban versions?


The same.

Another flash, another thirty-seven lives extinguished.

We have to do something. When it’s finished with the boats, it will turn on FP-1.


Good riddance,

said Lukyan, but he flinched as a new flash appeared.


I think you’re labouring under a misapprehension if you think the FP-1 is purely a military facility, Lukyan Pushkin,

said Kane, rage flickering in his voice.

There are family accommodations aboard. You just blithely wished ‘good riddance’ upon perhaps two hundred young children.

Lukyan looked at him aghast, his eyes widening.

What? I had no idea…


Well, now you do.

Kane gestured hopelessly at the screen.

If anybody has any bright ideas, now would be a good time to share them.

There was silence. And then Katya said in a small voice,

Is the
Baby
still aboard?

 

It felt strange to her, how her attitude to the minisub
Pushkin’s Baby
had changed in only the space of a few days. Once she had regarded it as purely her uncle’s, something that was always there. Then, when she had got her card, it had changed in her view into a place of work and she looked forward to knowing every kink and corner of her as well as Uncle Lukyan and Sergei did.

 

She stopped for a moment in the corridor leading forward to the salvage maw.

What’s wrong?

asked Lukyan.


Poor Sergei. He thinks we’re dead.

They started walking again.

Now, the
Baby
was the submarine that refused to die. The
Leviathan
had killed it and the
Vodyanoi
and her crew had resurrected it. Every time she saw it now, it was a faint shock. They stepped through the hatch into the sealed maw and Katya experienced the shock again.

The
Baby
, for its part, sat patiently and awaited whatever they might ask of it. Katya walked to it and ran her hand over the curve of the hull. The urge to say,

Good girl

to it was quite powerful. She looked over her shoulder at Lukyan and found him smiling.


It’s just a machine. Boats and ships have always been just machines for getting from one place to another. Yet we develop a… I don’t know, a bond, I suppose. Life crawled from the sea back on Earth and, one way and another, eventually turned into us, but I don’t think the sea ever really got out of our blood. Not even here.

Kane was checking the
Leviathan
’s IFF identification module mounted on the
Baby’s
side, nestled amongst all the other equipment she carried.

You have a poetical soul, Lukyan Pushkin,

he commented without pausing in his work.

Just like your Russian ancestors.

Lukyan’s smile faded.

I have nothing of Earth in me.


Nonsense. Russian blood is far fresher in you than the lung fish blood you were waxing lyrical about a moment ago.

Kane gestured offhandedly at Katya.

I gave Katya here the lecture on the importance of history a little while ago. I’m sure it’s still burned into her memory and she can give you the benefit of my wisdom, if at one remove.

He finally looked up to find both Katya and Lukyan glaring stonily at him. He sighed and went back to his work.

Yes, well. Perhaps we can work on the sense of humour before the sense of history.

He resealed the unit and stepped away from it.

Okay, are we sure this is what we want to do? The chances are the
Leviathan
won’t fall for this a second time.


I wouldn’t say it was something I
wanted
to do…

began Katya.


We have to try,

said Lukyan simply.


We have to try,

echoed Kane. He stood motionless as if listening to the words die against the metal walls. He nodded sharply, his mind made up.

We have to try.

Katya noticed both men were looking at her.

Katya, Lukyan’s the pilot. I’m going because I know the
Leviathan
. You’re not needed. You should stay.


Okay,

said Katya. Both men visibly relaxed. Then she boarded the
Baby
. She was already strapping herself into the co-pilot’s seat when Kane stuck his head around the open hatch, his expression perplexed.


I’m sorry, did we just miss something then? I thought I heard you agree to stay behind.


No. I was just agreeing that you’d done the decent thing and tried to talk me into staying behind. I’ve no intention of letting you two go off without me.


Katya…

She turned in her seat, her face tight with anger.

Do I
look
like I’m going to let you leave me behind?
Do
I?

Lukyan pushed past Kane and went to take the pilot’s seat.

You’re wasting your time, Kane. I’ve seen that face before and you won’t talk your way around it.

He started strapping in.

Exactly like my sister. It’s uncanny sometimes.

Kane accepted defeat philosophically. He climbed aboard and settled into the same passenger seat he’d taken the first time he’d been bought aboard the
Baby
as a prisoner.

It’s the blood. Thicker than water. Blood will always out.

Strapped in, he slapped the hatch control and watched the door close and seal. The maw started to flood. Five minutes later they were clear of the
Vodyanoi,
moving slowly in the direction of the invisible battle being fought between the Yagizban warboats and the
Leviathan
.

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