The Dragon in the Sea by Frank Herbert Read Free Book Online Page A

his wrist. “Diffusion normal-plus. No nitrogen.”
    Back came Sparrow’s voice over the intercom: “Les, slide off.”
    Ramsey felt the subtug lurch, then a faint whispering pulse of power. The deck assumed a slight upward incline, leveled. Presently, it tipped down.
    We’re headed into the deeps, thought Ramsey. Physically and mentally. From here on it’s up to me .
    â€œMr. Ramsey, come to the control deck,” Sparrow ordered.
    Ramsey closed down his board, went forward. Sparrow stood, hands behind his back, feet braced slightly apart almost precisely in the center of the control deck. He appeared framed in a background maze of pipes, wheels, levers, and dials. To his right, Garcia worked the tow controls; to his left, Bonnett held the high-speed pilot wheel. The big static pressure gauge high in the control bulkhead registered 1,310 pounds, increasing; they were below 3,000 feet.
    Without turning, Sparrow asked, “What’s in that little box that came aboard with your effects, Mr. Ramsey?”
    â€œMonitoring equipment for the new search system, sir.”
    Sparrow’s head moved to follow the flickering of a towcontrol dial; he turned back. “Why was it locked?”
    â€œIt’s extremely delicate and packed accordingly. They were afraid someone—”
    â€œI’ll want to see it at the first opportunity,” said Sparrow. He stepped over behind Bonnett. “Les, is that a leak in compartment nine?”

    â€œThere’s no moisture or pressure variant, Skipper. It has to be condensation.”
    â€œKeep an eye on it.” Sparrow stepped back beside Ramsey.
    I’m going to find out quick if that disguise system in the box satisfies his curiosity , thought Ramsey.
    â€œWhat’s your hobby?” he asked Ramsey.
    Ramsey blinked. “Astronomy.”
    Bonnett spoke over his shoulder: “That’s a peculiar hobby for a submariner.”
    Before Ramsey could reply, Sparrow said, “There’s nothing wrong with astronomy for a man who goes to sea.”
    â€œThe basis of navigation,” said Ramsey.
    Sparrow glanced sidelong at Ramsey, returned his gaze to the board. “I was thinking as we moved out across the mooring basin back at base that we were entitled to a last look at the stars before going under the sea. They give one a sense of orientation. One night before we left Garden Glenn I was struck by the clarity of the sky. The constellation of Hercules was—” He broke off as the Ram ’s nose tipped upward.
    A down hands moved over his controls to correct for the deflection.
    â€œHercules,” said Ramsey. “Do you mean the Kneeler?”
    â€œNot many call him that any more,” said Sparrow. “I like to think of him up there all these centuries, guiding mariners. The Phoenicians used to worship him, you know.”
    Ramsey felt a sudden wave of personal liking for Sparrow. He fought it down. I must remain clearheaded and objective , he told himself.

    Sparrow moved to the left to get a clearer view of the pilot gauges. He studied them a moment, turned to Ramsey. “Has it ever occurred to you, Mr. Ramsey, that these Hell Diver subtugs are the closest things to spaceships that mankind has developed? We’re completely self-contained.” He turned back to the control board. “And what do we do with our spaceships? We use them to hide under the liquid curtain of our planet. We use them to kill one another.”
    Ramsey thought: Here’s a problem — a morbid imagination vocalized for the benefit of the crew. He said, “We use them in self-defense.”
    â€œMankind has no defense from himself,” said Sparrow.
    Ramsey started to speak, stopped, thought: That’s a Jungian concept . No man is proof against himself. He looked at Sparrow with a new respect.
    â€œOur underground base,” said Sparrow. “It’s like a womb. And the marine tunnel. A birth