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Night of Terror by Desmond Bagley

of the crew calling in at the lab to see what we were doing. Not only

were they anxious to see good results but I found that Taffy Morgan had

organized a sweepstake on the cobalt result of every dredge.

I went to see Geordie and told him. “Look, this is wasting a lot of my

time,” Tell them to put a sock in it.” He smiled slowly. “Don’t want

to dampen their enthusiasm, so give me the results of the dredge each

do you? Tell you wha day and I’ll post a bulletin.” Its from

Clare.”

“That’ll do it. Get the resu He stuffed tobacco into the bowl of his

pipe. “Campbell started something with his big talk of making us all

millionaires. Do you think there’s anything in it? I should say he’s

a man of his word.” “I’m not doubting his word,” said Geordie. “I’m

doubting whether he can live up to it. If ten to fifteen million

pounds is then I think he’s only five percent of what he expects to

make expecting to make a devil of a lot.” in I. I’m hoping “He is,

Geordie,” I said soberly. “And so a that if we hit it all, it’ll be

big. When I’ve the time we’ll get Campbell to talk in figures. That’s

going to open your eyes.” “He’s already done that.” “He’s hardly

started.” “We’ll see,” said Geordie, unimpressed We dredged – and

dredged – and dredged. Then we hit shoal ground at nearly 4000 feet.

Geordie said laconically, “Minerva Bank.” “All right,” I said. “Nice

navigating. We carry out our plan we dredge all round it. But first

I’d like a sample from the middle of the shoal, as far into the

shallows as it’s safe to go.

Campbell said, “Isn’t that wasting time?” “We don’t know – not until

we’ve done it. And I’d like to know for the record – and for my own

theories.” We were wasting our time. We dredged at 2000 feet and came

up with a bucketful of volcanic cinders, dead coral and shell. No

nodules at all. The crew looked suddenly worried at the baul but I

reassured them. “I hardly expected any here, so don’t worry. Plenty

outside still. Now we can cross this area off the list, but I had to

be sure.” We retraced our track to the edge of Minerva Bank and

started to circle it at a distance of about ten miles, dredging in deep

water.

Geordie worked it out on the chart. “That’s about sixteen times we

drop – say four days.” It took us a bit longer than that, but five

days later we had made the full circle and still hadn’t found

anything.

Campbell, first up and first down, was getting depressed again and his

fretting was agitating the crew, who’d been working manfully.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” he asked me, not for the

first time.

“No, I’m not,” I said sharply. I was a bit on edge too; I was tired

and not in a mood to be asked stupid questions. “I’m not sure of a

damned thing. I’ve got theories to offer, but no certainties.”

Geordie was more placid. “Don’t forget that our arrival in Tonga

brought Ramirez there hotfoot. I think we’re in the right place.” I

wished to God I knew where they were. They’d had time, I reckoned, to

repair their engine, and I would have dearly loved to know if they were

out at sea searching for us at this moment. If only we had some

inkling as to how much Ramirez, really knew, we could be better placed

to cope with him.

Campbell echoed my thoughts. “Where the hell is Suarez/Navarro?

And where are these goddam nodules? What do we do next, Mike?” “We

carry on as planned. We go back towards Falcon on a parallel track.”

“East or west?” enquired Geordie.

I shrugged and felt in my trouser pocket. “Anyone got a coin?

This is a thing that can be tossed for.” Campbell snorted in

disgust.

Geordie said, more practically,”Why don’t we do both? We use the

course we came on as a centre line and rig-zag back.

First sample one side, then the other.” “That’s a reasonable idea,” I

said. “Let’s do that.” So we went back, and the same old boring

routine went on.

The winch motor whined, the bucket went over the side with a bubbling

splash and a couple of hours later came up with its load which I then

proceeded to prove worthless. There were plenty of nodules but not the

gold-plated ones. The crew was kept busy at keeping the decks

reasonably clean and at maintenance, and we devised all sorts of games

and exercises to use up spare time.

But Geordie was worrying about the maintenance of the winch gear.

“We’re overworking it,” he said to me. “We don’t have time for

standard maintenance. There’s the cable – the lot wants a thorough

cleaning and oiling. I’m scared it might break on one of these hauls

if we don’t check on it.” Campbell heard him out, tight-lipped, and

said, “No. We must carry on as long as we have the headway. You’ll

have to do the best you can, Geordie.” I knew what was on his mind.

We had been at sea now for over two weeks and Ramirez would soon be

ready to sail.

While we were at sea there was a fair chance he wouldn’t find us but to

put into any port would be dangerous.

So we carried on, zigzagging back towards Falcon, fruitlessly dredging

the seemingly profitless Pacific.

And then we hit it!

My voice shook as I called the vital figures out to Clare.

“C-Cobalt – 4.32 percent.” She looked up, startled. “I didn’t catch

that one, Mike least I think I didn’t.” I said shakily, “This is it

4.32 percent cobalt!” We looked at each other wordlessly. At last I

said carefully.

“We’ll assay again from that last load. More than once. Paula!

I want everything washed down again – cleaner than ever.” And the

three of us threw ourselves into a routine that was suddenly anything

but boring.

The results were dotted around my first one like Campbell’s

bullet-holes around mine on the target. 4.38 – 4.29 – four times I

tested, and every test checked out.

I croaked, “Hell, I’ve got to tell Geordie. He’s got to change

course.” I dashed up on deck leaving the girls thumping each others’

shoulders. Ian was at the wheel. “Whoa up!” I shouted. “We’re going

back to the last site.” His eyes widened. “You’ve never found

something?” “That I have! Where’s Geordie?” “He’s off watch – I

think in his cabin.” I left him to supervise the change of direction

and po, below. But Geordie wasn’t impressed. “Four percent is way

from ten,” he said “You damn fool, Geordie. It’s twice the percentage

been found in any nodule before, apart from the one win London. We

must have struck the edge of the concentration.” “Well – what now?”

“We go back and cruise that area, keeping an eye on the echo sounder.

That’ll probably tell us something.” He swung out of his bunk and put

his trousers on. “I’ll tell you something; it won’t mean a thing to

me.

Thank god we’ve been keeping careful records of our position.” “Come

on – let’s tell the boss.”

Campbell had already been told. We found him in the lab with the

girls, looking at the figures.

He turned as we came in, his eyes bright with expectation. “Have we

found it Mike?” I was suddenly cautious. I said carefully “We’ve

something.

Whether it’s what we hope is another thing.” “You goddam

scientists,”he grumbled. “Why can’t you ever tell a straight story?”

I pulled out the chart I had been making from the recording

echometer.

“There’s a ridge running along here, roughly north and south,” I

said.

“The top is within nine thousand feet of the surface.

We picked up our prize nodule here, on the east side of the ridge at

eleven thousand feet. I’d like to sail at right angles to the ridge,

striking east this way. I’d like to see how the depth of water

goes.”

“You think the depth might have something to do with this?” “It

might.

It would be the natural accumulation area for the greatest volume of

nodules hereabouts, rather than in the very shallowest areas – even

though there’s never more than one layer of thickness of nodules

anywhere.” “I thought they’d be there in great piles, humped up

together.” “Sorry, no,” I said. “That’s never been found. The best

evidence from some deep-sea photographs is that there are parts of the

sea-bed which are lumpy underneath the sediMent layer, indicating that

many more nodules might be buried there, but in that case they’d have

stopped growing anyway, being cut off from their life-line – the sea

water itself.” But for the only time they were not interested in my

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Categories: Desmond Bagley
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