Kirov III-Pacific Storm (Kirov Series) (36 page)

The withdrawal of one of the control
rods would naturally increase the fission reaction, so a replacement rod was
inserted first, rod number twenty-five. At this point the temperature would
drop enough that power output to the turbines would be very limited, and the
ship could run at no more than a third of its rated speed. Both the insertion
of Rod 25 and the and removal of Rod 7 were slow, careful procedures. One rod
lowering, the other raised in an effort to maintain a steady control function
on the reaction. A misstep could cause catastrophic results.

Dobrynin sat down in his chair, closed
his eyes and began to listen to the machine he had operated for so many years.
The sound of the reaction was like a song in his head by now, and he knew every
note, every cadence and rhythm, his highly trained ear slowly listening to the
nuclear symphony.

Sometime later he hear it, a strange
note in the score, like a flute that had run off on its own, soaring above the
clarinet section, a lilting phrase that remained in harmony with the overall
song, but was clearly never sanctioned by the conductor.

There it is again, he thought. Was it
something in the system, the coolant flow, or perhaps in Rod 25 itself? That
rod was the one common denominator in all of these strange flux events—Rod 25.
He focused his mind on the wayward notes, following their rise and fall, a
strange new soloist in the orchestra.

“I think we have a little flux reading
now, yes Mister Garin?”

“Right sir, just as before, but
nothing serious, sir. It is well within limits.” How could the Chief Engineer
know what his gauges were reading, he wondered? He was twenty feet away with
his eyes closed.

Something was happening here that
Dobrynin did not quite understand, but he knew that Admiral Volsky would soon
want to know what it was. Perhaps after this I will suggest we have a look at
Rod 25, he thought to himself. Then, thinking of Volsky, he opened his eyes,
picked up the comm-unit, and called the bridge.

“Dobrynin here. The procedure is now
underway. Please hold at ten knots or lower for the next two hours…And tell
Admiral Volsky I can hear it again. He will know what I mean.”

 

 

Chapter
27

 

Yoshida
was up in his E13A, designated “Type
Zero Reconnaissance Seaplane” by the navy, and called simply “Jake” by the
Allies. He had been quietly shadowing the distant ship on the horizon, keeping
a careful distance as ordered. He had heard the stories of sky serpents that
reached for a plane and devoured it in a single bite! Now he noticed the shadow
on the sea seemed to grow larger, a telltale sign that the ship was turning,
briefly presenting its full silhouette. He sighed, realizing he would have to
close the range now to ascertain the new heading, and fed power to his engine
as he banked.

Some minutes later he had a fairly
good read on the ship’s course by again aligning his plane with the distant
white wake and reading his own compass. Due north, he thought. The ship has
turned. Where could it be going? Nothing north, except perhaps the last
Australian outpost at Milne Bay.

He turned to his radio man, telling
him to send the new heading. “No change in speed,” he added. The ship seemed to
be in no particular hurry. If it knew what was hunting it, perhaps it would be
running at high speed now. Then again, every ship and plane that had ever
encountered this demon had either died or sustained serious damage. He mastered
his curiosity, resisting the urge to get closer and see this
Mizuchi
for
himself. No, he thought. I have no desire for an unplanned sea landing. You may
tickle this sea dragon’s tail, but don’t provoke it. Yoshida was a very wise
man.

The message was soon decoded and
flashed to all surface action groups presently in the hunt. Admiral Yamamoto
was informed a little after 12:40 hours by Operations Chief Kuroshima in the
officer’s dining room where the fleet commander was just finishing his lunch.

“The ship has turned on a new heading,
sir. Due north.”

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow at this.
“Are you certain?” he asked setting down his chop sticks on the white linen
napkin.

“It was first reported by a seaplane
off the
Tone
, and has been verified by search planes from the
Mutsu
as well, sir.”

“North, Kuroshima? What is this ship
up to?”

“It could have spotted us as well,
sir. It was obvious that we were in a favorable position to intercept if it
continued on its old heading. Who knows, sir. Perhaps it is running for Milne
Bay now that we have herded it away from ports on the Australian mainland. Hara
has a large screening force out west with his carriers. They may have spotted
it.”

“Was there a speed indicated?”

“The pilots estimated no more than ten
or twelve knots, sir.”

That again seemed to surprise
Yamamoto, and he looked at his Operations Chief now, his lunch finished. “It
does not seem that they have any fear of battle,” he said. “Ten or twelve
knots?”

“The ship could have been damaged by
our air strike, sir. This is good news. I suggest we alter course to intercept
at once.”

“Give the order, Kuroshima. Yes, this
is good news, though very surprising. Perhaps they do not realize we have two
more battleships to their northwest. Well enough. How soon might we catch this
ship?”

“That remains to be seen, sir, but we
can cut the range considerably now if we run full out.”

“Make it so. And keep me informed if
the enemy makes any further heading or speed change.”

“Of course, sir.” Kuroshima bowed with
a quick salute, and turned to send the new heading order up to the bridge.

Yamamoto leaned back in his chair,
thinking about this new development. He was immediately relieved that this ship
was no longer threatening Hara’s carriers. Those ships had to be preserved at
all costs. Without their strike squadrons intact, they were little more than
ducks in a pond should any other American carrier be operating in these waters.
Six fighters, he thought darkly. That was all Hara had left to put over his
carriers, two
shotai
. And below decks there
were no more than ten other planes, many bearing scars and shrapnel wounds from
the incredible attack concluded that morning against this enemy ship. It was
most unsettling; seemingly impossible! How could the seasoned pilots of Hara’s
group have failed to bludgeon this ship with over ninety planes in the morning
air strike? He could still not believe the results, or the baffling reports of
aerial rockets that had been so deadly, intercepting and killing Hara’s planes
before they ever set eyes on their target.

If the British built this ship, he
mused, then it truly is a monster. Perhaps it was a new ship, something the
intelligence masters and the bright young men of the Naval General Staff had
been unable to discover. After all, his own ship, the super battleship
Yamato
,
had been shrouded in secrecy for all the many years of its construction.
Virtually everything about it, its displacement, armor, the true size and
caliber of its guns, had been closely guarded state secrets. Was it so
difficult to believe that the British could have built a fast and deadly ship
like this, and engineered these marvelous new rocket weapons?

Thinking of
Yamato
again, he
realized the tremendous resources it had taken to build, the seemingly endless
work in the foundries and factories. Three of these superb battleships had been
ordered, but only two delivered. The final ship would become a carrier instead,
and that was probably very wise, he thought…unless…

The fate of Hara’s squadrons weighed
heavily in his mind now. What if this ship, these new rocket weapons, changed
the delicate balance of power at sea yet again? It had been a world of
dreadnaughts and battleships, with nations signing treaties to stubbornly
restrict the size and power of these deadly vessels. Then the British flew a
flock of outmoded planes against the Italian battle fleet at Taranto and showed
what even slow, obsolete aircraft might do against the steel dragons of the
sea. Three of six Italian battleships there had been either sunk or damaged so
badly they had to be beached. If a few British planes could do this at Taranto,
he realized, then what might the superb fast carriers and naval aviators of the
Imperial Japanese Navy do against the Americans at Pearl Harbor?

The plan was just a few months from
being realized when the Germans stupidly struck the Americans in the North
Atlantic, just a little over a year ago now. The Americans declared war, Japan
foolishly sided with Germany instead of pursuing an independent course, and the
Americans obliged by declaring hostilities against the Empire as well, on
September 1, 1941. The Pearl Harbor attack plan was suddenly nothing more than
stacks of useless paper!

Yet even though his carriers did not
get the chance to prove their skills at Hawaii, they had performed flawlessly
ever since, screening, scouting, providing decisive air power when needed as
Japan rolled south into the resource rich island archipelagos of the Pacific.
The old American battleships that the navy planners had been so eager to kill
were still largely berthed at Pearl Harbor, too fat and slow to keep up with
the speedy hit and run tactics required by the carrier fleets. Now this…

A ship that could defend itself
against an entire carrier task force!
A
fast, deadly ship that had held Iwabuchi’s cruisers at bay, killed submarines
with no destroyer escort, left the battleship
Kirishima
a steaming wreck
in its foaming wake, and was now in a perfect place to strike at Hara’s
carriers, their hangers largely empty, or at the slow transports bearing troops
from the Nagoya 3rd Division. These reports of rockets that had even bloodied his
ships were most confounding. His staff was of the opinion that they would have
to be piloted to be so accurate. They struck targets the enemy could not even
see!

While this made some sense to him, it
would be most unlike the British to produce a weapon requiring a pilot to give
his life. Perhaps the pilots were ejecting once they had aimed their weapons,
but no sign of this had been observed, and not a single enemy had been found in
the sea. It was a profound mystery.

Only one thing was certain, this ship
changes everything, he thought. Now it will no longer be a war of carriers and
planes, though they will always have their place in any well balanced navy. No.
From everything he had heard, it was now the daring pilots of these rocket
weapons who would decide the fate of nations, and only a ship capable of
withstanding their warheads could close and engage the enemy in a gun duel…. A
ship like
Yamato
, the largest and most heavily armored battleship ever
built. If ever there was a real dragon of the sea, he was standing on its
armored back at this very moment. His guns could tear any ship then known to
pieces if they could get in range.

That was another mystery. Iwabuchi’s
cruisers and even the
Kirishima
reported being hit by small caliber deck
guns, yet at ranges exceeding their own main batteries! This ship used these
infernal rockets in place of the monstrous gun turrets all other big ships
would carry, and it gave the enemy the ability to strike at impossible ranges.
How were they seeing his ships? One report had indicated a strange aircraft was
spotted. They must use seaplanes as we do on our fast cruisers and battleships.
It was the only thing that made sense. So here was a battlecruiser that could fight
like a carrier, and with a lethal defensive shield against his own carrier
planes with these new rocket weapons. The world had changed, right beneath his
nose, and he had not seen it happening. This ship was a true nightmare, a
revolutionary leap in naval thinking and design.

Then, inexplicably, this Shadow Dancer
simply turns north, forsaking all the valuable targets it still had within easy
reach. It was baffling, to say the least, but thankfully he could now focus his
attention on finding the enemy and holding them accountable for the havoc they
had caused in the seas around Australia. It may be the only one of its class,
he thought. If I sink it, this would prove that the old strength of guns and
steel can as yet prevail. What was it up to, he wondered?

If this ship were still out hunting
for new prey, it would not make such a sudden and stupid maneuver. Perhaps this
beast is wounded, as Kuroshima suggested. Or perhaps it has limited ammunition
or fuel and must now run for a friendly base. But Milne Bay? There is nothing
there but a few stubborn battalions of Australian infantry. Could the ship have
other intentions? Could it be planning to attack Rabaul? Would it be so daring
as to sail right into the arms of our main defenses? Then again, perhaps it was
only trying to escape…

Every hunter needed good dogs to find
and flush out his prey. He had three fast cruisers with him,
Nagara, Yura
and
Jintsu
, fast as the rivers they were named for at 36 knots. He could
turn them loose and have them try and run this sea dragon down. The enemy
seemed in no hurry, or better yet, it seemed to be limping north now, perhaps
even crippled as it fled. Let them harry her, he thought, and we will see if
Kuroshima is correct. Well enough. They can put their torpedoes to good use if
they catch up with the enemy. If the cruisers find themselves overmatched, they
can always fall off and simply shadow this beast. It seemed a good idea, and he
called for an orderly, telling him to convey his wishes to Rear Admiral
Takayanagi
on the bridge at once.

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