During dinner, the USS Sam Shore discreetly submerged.
Hatches and service ports were closed and sealed silently. Ballast tanks were opened, the in-rush of water politely muffled so as not to disturb the passengers. The dive planes were set for a one-degree descent, barely noticeable even to those guests paying close attention to the level of the drinks in their glasses.
Falcon noticed, of course. He sensed the angle of the deck, the tilt from one end of a corridor to the next. Through the sensors in his undercarriage he picked up the change in the subsonic frequency coming from the engine, signalling a decrease in the power output, possible now that the ship was moving underwater in its optimum environment.
Very few things escaped Falcon.
After dinner, and before Springer’s speech, he and Webster went for a walk.
The so-called service deck of the Shore, beneath the immense hangar deck, was a cavern of girders and rivets and rails and cranes and rotating platforms, where once fighter planes and nuclear-tipped missiles had been fuelled, serviced, refurbished. Now this brightly lit chamber had been transformed into a combination of shopping mall and upper class hotel—and on an astounding scale, a full mile of it.
“You should feel at home here, Howard,” Webster was saying. “After all, if the Queen Elizabeth hadn’t crashed, you’d have ended up a cruise liner captain too, wouldn’t you? Of course, nowadays you’d never get a dress uniform to fit . . .”
Falcon ignored him and inspected the fixtures. For this prestigious cruise the ship’s owners, together with the World Food Secretariat, Marine Division, had used the space to mount an exhibition of the modern ocean and its uses, presumably intended to prompt well-heeled passengers to become investors. Falcon and Webster glanced over exhibits, models and holographic and animated images of various wonders natural and otherwise—although Falcon was unsure if anything about Earth’s oceans could still be called natural. At the close of the twenty-first century a large proportion of mankind was fed by tremendous plankton farms, sustained by the forced upwelling of nutrient-rich materials from the ocean floor. As land-based mineral sources had been depleted the sea bed had been extensively mined too. Of course, in this year 2099, humanity was more than conscious of the needs of the creatures with whom it shared the world—and even, in the case of the uplifted chimps, shared political power. But the whole Earth was becoming a managed landscape, Falcon thought, like one vast park—which was one reason people like himself became hungry to leave.
They found a panel on career opportunities, and Webster bent to see, curious. “Look at this stuff, Howard. The specialisms you can take on: seamanship, oceanography, navigation, undersea communications, marine biology . . .” He straightened up stiffly. “You know, the Bureau of Space Resources uses some sea floor locations for simulation work. You can trial suits designed to cope with the heavy pressures we will encounter on Venus, for instance. Shame we can’t go see that during this jaunt.”
“No,” Falcon said, “this tub is strictly a shallow diver. Just enough to hide from enemy aircraft—”
“Excuse me.”
The woman stood alone in the gloom of the gallery: soberly dressed, dark, she looked to be in her mid-thirties. Falcon, at seven feet, towered over her by a good foot and a half. Not surprisingly perhaps, she seemed nervous.
Webster snapped his fingers. “I remember you. Nurse Dhoni, right? You were at the military hospital, Luke Air Force Base, Arizona, when we—”
“When Commander Falcon was brought in from the Queen Elizabeth, yes.”
Those days—those years—of recovery still lived in Falcon’s nightmares. He did his best not to recoil. “I don’t remember you, Nurse, I’m sorry.”
“Actually, it’s Doctor now. I cross-trained. I specialised in neurosurgery at—”
“Why are you here?” Falcon snapped.
She seemed taken aback, and Webster glared at him.
Dhoni said, “Well, because of you, Commander. Once the President’s staff had invited you, they looked around for friends, family and such to make you welcome. And of your medical team from back then, I’m the only one still working in the field. The rest have retired, moved on, or in one case died—Doctor Bignall, if you remember him.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
Webster growled, “For God’s sake, Howard.”
“No, Administrator Webster, it’s okay.” She sounded as if it was anything but okay, but she held her nerve. “I needed to see you, Commander. After your exploits on Jupiter made the news, I did some investigating. It’s been an awfully long time since you had a proper check-up, let alone an overhaul.”
Suddenly Falcon was suspicious. He glared at Webster. “Did you set this up, you old coot?”
Webster looked as if he was going to try to bluff his way out, but gave in with good grace. “Well, now, Howard, I knew you wouldn’t listen to me.” He rapped his knuckles on the shell of toughened alloy where Falcon’s chest should have been. “The outside stuff is doing fine. We can switch components in and out with no trouble. But what’s inside was pretty beat up to start with, and isn’t getting any younger. How old are you now, fifty-five, fifty-six . . . ?”
Dhoni reached out uncertainly to Falcon, then dropped her hand. “Let me help you. How do you sleep?”
Falcon set his jaw. “As little as I can.”
“There are new treatments now, things we can offer you—”
“Is that why you’re here? To use me as a lab rat, again?”
That got through the last of her defences. Her mouth worked, and she swallowed. “No. I’m here because I care. Just as I cared then.” She turned and stalked away.
Falcon watched her go. “She nearly burst into tears.”
“No, she didn’t, you ass. She nearly knocked your block off, and you would have deserved it. I saw you back then, Howard. I know it was a nightmare. But she was there all the way through, Hope Dhoni. Just a kid. There all the way through.” He seemed to struggle for words. “She wiped your brow. Oh, the hell with you. I need a drink.” He walked off, calling back, “Enjoy Springer’s ego trip. I’ve had enough heroes for now. But when you find that woman again you apologise, you hear?”