alistairmaclean.icestationzebra-第30章

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　 He　was　too　late。　He　was　a　lifetime　too　late。　The　lever　snapped　clear；　the　heavy　circular　rear　door　smashed　open　as　violently　as　if　it　had　been　struck　by　some　gigantic　battering　ram；　and　a　roaring　torrent　of　water　burst　into　the　for'ard　torpedo　room。　The　sheer　size；　the　enormous　power　and　frightening　speed　of　that　almost　horizontally　traveling　column　of　water　was　staggering。　It　was　like　a　giant　hose　pipe；　like　one　of　the　outlet　pipes　of　the　Boulder　Dam。　It　caught　up　Lieutenant　Mills；　already　badly　injured　by　the　flailing　sweep　of　that　heavy　door；　and　swept　him　back　across　the　torpedo　room　to　smash　heavily　against　the　after　bulkhead；　for　a　moment　he　half　stood　there；　pinned　by　the　power　of　that　huge　jet；　then　slid　down　limply　to　the　deck。
　 〃Blow　all　main　ballast！〃　Hansen　shouted　into　the　microphone。　He　was　hanging　on　a　rear…torpedo　door　to　keep　from　being　carried　away；　and；　even　above　the　thunderous　roar　of　the　waters；　his　voice　carried　clearly。　〃Emergency。　Blow　all　main　ballast。　Number　4　tube　open　to　the　sea。　Blow　all　main　ballast！〃　He　released　his　grip　and　staggered　across　the　deck；　trying　to　keep　his　balance　in　the　madly　swirling　already　footdeep　water。　〃Get　out　of　here；　for　God's　sake。〃
　 He　should　have　saved　his　energy　and　breath。　I　was　already　on　my　way　out　of　there。　I　had　Mills　under　the　arms　and　was　trying　to　drag　him　over　the　high　sill　of　the　for'ard　collision　bulkhead　and　I　was　making　no　headway　at　all。　The　proper　trim　of　a　submarine　is　a　delicate　thing　at　the　best　of　times；　and　even　after　those　few　seconds；　the　nose　of　the　〃Dolphin〃；　heavy　with　the　tons　of　water　that　had　already　poured　in；　was　beginning　to　cant　sharply　downward。　Trying　to　drag　Mills　and　at　the　same　time　keep　my　balance　on　that　sloping　deck　with　knee…high　water　boiling　around　me　was　more　than　I　could　do：　but　suddenly　Hansen　had　Mills　by　the　feet；　and　I　stumbled　off　balance；　tripped　over　the　high　sill；　and　fell　backward　into　the　confined　space　between　the　two　collison　bulkheads；　dragging　Mills　after　me。
　 Hansen　was　still　on　the　other　side　of　the　bulkhead。　I　could　hear　him　cursing　steadily；　monotonously；　and　as　if　he　meant　it　as　he　struggled　to　unhook　the　heavy　door　from　its　standing　catch。　Because　of　the　steep　downward　pitch　of　the　Dolphin's　deck；　he　had　to　lean　all　his　weight　against　the　massive　steel　door　to　free　the　catch；　and　with　his　insecure　footing　among　the　swirling　waters　on　that　sloping；　slippery　deck；　he　was　obviously　having　the　devil's　own　time　trying　to　release　it。　I　let　Mills　go；　jumped　over　the　sill；　flung　my　shoulder　against　the　door；　and　with　the　suddenly　added　pressure；　the　latch　clicked　free。　The　heavy　door　at　once　swung　half　shut；　carrying　us　along　with　it　and　knocking　us　both　off　our　feet　into　the　battering…ram　path　of　that　torrent　still　gqshing　from　number　4　tube。　Coughing　and　spluttering；　we　scrambled　upright　again；　crossed　the　sill；　and；　hanging　on　to　a　latch　handle　apiece；　tried　to　drag　the　door　shut。
　 Twice　we　tried　and　twice　we　failed。　The　water　boiled　in　through　the　tube；　and　its　level　was　now　almost　Jipping　the　top　of　the　sill。　With　every　second　that　passed；　the　downward　angle　of　the　〃Dolphin〃　increased；　and　with　every　extra　degree　of　steepness　the　task　of　pulling　that　door　uphill　against　the　steadily　increasing　gravity　became　more　and　more　difficult。
　 The　water　began　to　spill　over　the　sill　onto　our　feet。
　 Hansen　grinned　at　me。　At　least　I　thought　for　a　moment　he　was　grinning；　but　the　white　teeth　were　clamped　tightly　together　and　there　was　no　amusement　at　all　in　his　eyes。　He　shouted　above　the　roar　of　the　water：　〃It's　now　or　never。〃
　 A　well…taken　point。　It　was　indeed　now　or　never。　At　a　signal　from　Hansen；　we　flung　our　bined　weights　on　to　those　latch　handles；　each　with　one　hand　to　a　latch　while　the　other　braced　against　the　bulkhead　to　give　maximum　leverage。　We　got　the　door　to　within　four　inches。　It　swung　open。　We　tried　again。　Still　four　inches；　and　I　knew　that　all　our　strength　had　gone　into　that　one。
　 〃Can　you　hold　it　for　a　moment？〃　I　shouted。
　 He　nodded。　I　shifted　both　hands　to　the　lower　corner　latch；　dropped　to　the　deck；　braced　my　feet　against　the　sill；　and　straightened　both　legs　in　one　convulsive　jerk。　The　door　crashed　shut；　Hansen　jammed　his　latch　home；　I　did　the　same　with　mine；　and　we　were　safe。　For　the　moment　we　were　safe。
　 I　left　Hansen　to　secure　the　remaining　latches　and　started　knocking　those　of　the　after　collision…bulkhead　door。　I'd　only　got　as　far　as　the　first　one　when　the　others　started　falling　off　by　themselves。　Petty　officer　Bowen　and　his　men；　on　the　other　side　of　that　door；　needed　no　telling　that　we　wanted　out　of　there　just　as　fast　as　possible。　The　door　was　pulled　open　and　my　eardrums　popped　with　the　abrupt　fall　in　air　pressure。　I　could　hear　the　steady　echoing　roar　of　air　blasting　into　the　ballast　tanks　under　high　pressure。　I　hoisted　Mills　by　the　shoulders；　strong；　petent　hands　lifted　him　out　and　over　the　sill；　and　a　couple　of　seconds　later　Hansen　and　I　were　beside　him。
　 〃In　God's　name！〃　Bowen　said　to　Hansen。　〃What's　gone　wrong？〃
　 〃Number　4　tube　open　to　the　sea。〃
　 〃Jesus！〃
　 〃Secure　that　door；〃　Hansen　ordered。　〃But　good。〃　He　left　at　a　dead　run；　clawing　his　way　up　the　sharply　sloping　deck　of　the　torpedo　storage　room。　I　took　a　look　at　Lieutenant　Millsone　short　look　was　all　I　neededand　followed　after　Hansen。　Only　I　didn't　run。　Running　wasn't　going　to　help　anybody　now。
　 The　roar　of　pressed　air　filled　the　ship；　the　ballast　tanks　were　rapidly　emptying；　but　still　the　〃Dolphin〃　continued　on　its　deadly　dive；　arrowing　down　for　the　dark　depths　of　the　Arctic。　Not　even　the　massive　pressed…air　banks　of　the　submarine　could　hope　to　cope　so　soon　with　the　effects　of　the　scores　of　tons　of　sea　water　that　had　already　flooded　into　the　for'ard　torpedo　room：　I　wondered　bleakly　if　they　would　ever　be　able　to　cope　at　all。　As　I　walked　along　the　wardroom　passage；　using　the　hand　rail　to　haul　myself　up　that　crazily　canted　deck；　I　could　feel　the　entire　submarine　shudder　beneath　my　feet。　No　doubt　about　what　that　was：　Swanson　had　the　great　turbines　turning　over　at　maximum　revolutions；　the　big　bronze　propellers　threshing　madly　in　reverse；　trying　to　bite　deep　into　the　water　to　slow　up　the　diving　submarine。
　 You　can　smell　fear。　You　can　smell　it　and　you　can　see　it；　and　I　could　do　both　as　I　hauled　my　way　into　the　control　center　of　the　〃Dolphin〃　that　morning。　Not　one　man　as　much　as　flickered　an　eye　in　my　direction　as　I　passed　by　the　sonar　room。　They　had　no　eyes　for　me。　They　had　no　eyes　for　anybody：　tense；　strained；　immobile；　with　hunted　faces；　they　had　eyes　for　one　thing　onlythe　plummeting　needle　on　the　depth　gauge。
　 The　needle　was　passing　the　six…hundred…feet　mark。　Six　hundred　feet。　No　conventional　submarine　I'd　ever　been　on　could　have　operated　at　this　depth。　Could　have　survived　at　this　depth。　Six　hundred　and　fifty。　I　thought　of　the　fantastic　outside　pressure　that　represented　and　I　felt　far　from　happy。　Someone　else　was　feeling　far　from　happy　also：　the　young　seaman　manning　the　inboard　diving　seat。　His　fists；　were　clenched　till　the　knuckles　showed；　a　muscle　was　jumping　in　his　cheek；　a　nerve　twitching　in　his　neck；　and　he　had　the　look　of　a　man　who　sees　the　bony　finger　of　death　beckoning。
　 Seven　hundred　feet。　Seven　hundred　and　fifty。　Eight　hundred。　I'd　never　heard　of　a　submarine　that　had　reached　that　depth　and　lived。　Neither；　apparently；　had　mander　Swanson。
　 〃We　have　just　set　a　new　record；　men；〃　he　said。　His　voice　was　calm　and　relaxed；　and　although　he　was　far　too　intelligent　a　man　not　to　be　afraid；　no　trace　of　it　showed　in　tone　or　manner。　〃Lowest　recorded　dive　ever；　as　far　as　I　am　aware。　Speed　of　descent？〃
　 〃No　change。〃
　 〃It　will　change　soon。　The　torpedo　room　must　be　about　full　nowapart　from　the　pocket　of　air　pressed　under　high　pressure。〃　He　gazed　at　the　dial　and　tapped　his　teeth　thoughtfully　with　a　thumbnailthis；　for　Swanson；　was　probably　the　equivalent　of　going　into　hysterics。　〃Blow　the　diesel　tanks：　blow　the　fresh…water　tanks。〃　Imperturbable　though　he　sounded；　Swanson　was　close　to　desperation　for　this　was　the　counsel　of　despair：　thousands　of　miles　from　home　and　supplies；　yet　jettisoning　all　the　diesel　and　drinking　water；　the　lack　of　either　of　which　could　make　all　the　difference　between　life　and　dea