I have just checked your page and found it rather refreshing..Your honest attitude to life, and your considerable accomplishments are something to be proud of...

You managed to pack a lot of info into a confined space...

I give it 10/10...That's rare!

As the crew left their posts and sat listless, Vanderhofen asked, “What do you think our chances are?”

Wilma tried a smile.

“We both know that at this depth there is no hope of rescue. Our chances? Zilch.”

The hull creaked again and she gazed around at the darkened interior.

“All the life has gone out of her but we have to conserve battery power.”

“How bad is the damage?”

She thought for a moment.

“The turbine hall has filled sir. That reminds me, I had better have a word with Murray.”

Wilma left and wandered slowly back to the reactor room. When she arrived, the engineer was examining the bulkhead.

“How are we doing?” she asked casually.

A loud creaking could be heard within the flooded compartment, that did not fill her with confidence.

“Hear that mam? The hull is starting to buckle. When it goes it will take this bulkhead with it.”

“How long have we really got?”

The engineer shrugged his shoulders.

“Less than an hour perhaps.”

She nodded.

“Any sign of breach and get your men out of here.”

“Understand mam.”

Overhead, the metal creaked away as the enormous pressure bore down.

“I wonder what is happening up top?”

“They are probably blowing hell out of each other.”

A louder creak was soon followed by the steady drip of seawater.
Wilma pointed toward the ceiling.

“Things are really looking grim.”

The boat suddenly shifted and audible gasps rippled through the air.

“If we slide off the shelf,” she commented. “We will hear a loud popping noise.”

“No worries then mam,” Vanderhofen said.

When the shift happened again, it was followed by a strange scraping noise. As everyone looked around the noise of unscrewing became obvious.

“That can’t be frogmen mam,” the sonar operator muttered.

“No it can’t,” Wilma whispered.

She walked to the hatch and gazed up the useless ladder. At first, she really thought that her eyes were playing tricks. Then she saw the hatch screw turn.

“Someone is trying to get inside. Emergency power now.”

The dull lights switched on and everyone gazed in her direction.

“What do you make of it sir?”

Vanderhofen gazed up in surprise.

“It certainly beats me.”

The hatch suddenly opened and a little water dripped inside. Wilma gazed toward a bright green glow.

“Stay here for a moment while I check this out.”

She climbed the ladder and peeked around from the conning tower. The boat remained upright surrounded by a slipway. The walls glistened a bright green, and large grooves and bumps ran horizontal across the surface.

“Number two up here.”

When Vanderhofen arrived, he simply gasped.

“Where are we?”

“No idea. Follow me a moment.”

She climbed onto the silent deck and saw the buoyant water. To the starboard side a walkway led into the near distance.

“Get the men up number two. Make sure they are armed.”

“Is that wise?” he asked. “No Russian built this.”

“Probably not but whoever they are we must assume hostility.”

As he returned, Wilma leapt onto the slipway and gazed toward what
looked like a bulkhead.

Behind her, the hatches opened and relieved submariners began to emerge. They shouldered their automatic weapons and followed their captain onto the slipway.

“Where is Murray?”

The able engineer soon joined her.

“I need you opinion.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“No human built this mam.”

“You mean aliens?”

“That would be the obvious conclusion.”

Vanderhofen joined them.

“Do you think we should follow that walkway?”

She glanced at him.

“Seems as though we have no choice.”

As they gingerly approached the bulkhead, a voice appeared within her head.

“I bid you welcome.”

Wilma stopped dead.

“Did anyone else hear that?”

“I think we all did,” Vanderhofen replied. “Some kind of telepathy perhaps?”

“Who am I talking to?”

“Please come forward. I mean you no harm, but be aware that your puny weapons shall not function.”

The bulkhead slid silently open and just beyond stood a second smaller compartment. As the crew ventured inside, the captain said, “My name is...”

“Your identity is known.”

Wilma fiercely disliked this form of communication.

“Your act of aggression has taken my people to war. People are probably dying right now.”

“The action was regrettable but necessary. The USS Arizona was using technology that is harmful to us.”

“You must know that they were unaware of that?”

This time there was an ominous silence. Wilma glanced at the green walls and promptly noted that the nodules here were vertical.

“Keep him talking,” Vanderhofen urged.

Wilma thought quickly.

“I need to see whom I talking to.”

“I will create a holographic image for you.”

She waited as Murray whispered; “Now we’ll find out what they look like mam.”

Seconds passed until a figure gradually appeared. It stood around four foot nine and was terribly thin. The bright green eyes seemed to sparkle over the light brown skin. The figure was without a nose and the mouth was but a slit.

The long arms were rather dangly and the hands contained six nimble digits.

“At least it is humanoid,” Vanderhofen whispered.

“That was certainly a relief number two.”

Wilma remained calm despite the extreme situation.

“What do you intend to do with us?”

The image raised its arms plaintively.

“We have remained here for centuries in peace. Your species however now knows what we look like and will no doubt return for a second look.”

Wilma shook her head.

“That will only happen if I report this.”

Vanderhofen nudged her.

“With the boat as it is mam we really cannot leave.”

“Shush...”

“You are duty bound to report captain,” the image said. “Did you not come to destroy the enemy?”

She nodded.

“Until I discovered what you were.”

The image shook its head.

“Only by stopping you did we prevent an attack.”

“That is certainly true, but surely you can see advantages?”

“There are no advantages captain. Knowledge of us would require an even stronger response.”

“Even if no one came looking?”

“You are merely a submariner captain. With no authority to decide policy.”

“I still have some control sir. My people only hear what I tell them.”

“What about your crew?”

Wilma glanced back.

“They would keep quiet if I asked them too.”

A long silence followed.

“Keep at it mam,” Murray whispered. “I think that you are making progress.”

“You would willingly keep our presence from your leaders?”

Wilma nodded happily.

“Once you managed to repair my boat.”

The image placed a long finger to its mouth.

“We have the technology to carry out such repairs. To us, your sub is but a toy.”

“I gathered that,” she muttered.

The image pointed to the floor and a pot of bubbling goo materialised.
“What’s that stuff?” the engineer asked.

“Simply paint it upon the damaged areas, and within one of your hours they will be repaired.”

Wilma turned to Murray.

“Could your team do that?”

“We have diving equipment to paint the screws mam but the drive shaft will be a harder job. It’s the weight you see.”

Wilma nodded.

“We will do as you instruct sir.”

She lifted the container and handed it over.

“You better get a move on then.”

As the engineers left to do the job, Wilma was curious.

“How did you get us onboard by the way?”

The image seemed to smile.

“We quite simply scooped you up.”

“I and the crew need to return to the vessel to supervise the repair
process.”

The image nodded before blinking out.

“You damn well did it mam.”

“I know number two. Do we have time though to shut the war down?”

They turned and headed home to their vessel as the engineers worked frantically upon the repairs. After pumping out the turbine hall, six engineers applied the paint before pushing the broken pieces together. When they stuck, a scuba team set about doing the same to the screws.

The hour passed, then came the second. At last, the com buzzed.

“I’m ready to try this if you are mam?”

“Thanks Murray.”

She scrambled back up the ladder and stood upon the conning tower.

“We are going now. I need you to help us leave.”

With no reply, she slid into the command area and sealed the hatch.

“Now we wait.”

There was a gentle lurch to the right followed by a loud gurgle.

“Place the reactor online Murray.”

“Yes mam.”

As full power was restored, Vanderhofen glanced at the depth gauge.
“Twenty-eight nine hundred and holding.”

“Sonar?”

“We are still on the shelf mam.”

Wilma turned to her number two.

“Now comes the really tricky part sir.”

She paused and said, “Blow forward ballast tanks.”

The bow began to lift gently.

“Blow main ballast tanks.”

The sub rose steadily and everyone sighed.

“Bow planes to fifty, course eighteen degrees north.”

“Aye mam.”

As the sub began the rapid ascent, the captain said, “Put me in touch with Pacific Command on the emergency frequency.”

She paused for breath as the centre came through.

“This is the USS Virginia. We have ascertained that the Arizona suffered electrical failure and went below its designed depth. There are no survivors.”

She waited with some impatience for the reply.

“This is Admiral Kimmel. We acknowledge your message.”

“We need to stop the war sir.”

“I will inform the president of your findings. Proceed to Pearl Harbour at best speed.”

She cut the communication, just as the dark bow smashed onto the surface.

When she at last stood upon the conning tower, she took a deep breath.

“Smells lovely.”

Vanderhofen soon joined her.

“I set the new course mam. Do you think that the shooting has stopped?”

“I sure hope so number two.”

“We met beings far more powerful than we today.”

Wilma nodded.

“I’ll make damn sure that we never bother them again.”

“How will you do that mam?”

She nudged him gently in the ribs.

“By running for president of course.”

Sub...The...End...

As the USS Virginia left Midway, Captain Wilma Harris glanced at her reliable number two.

“What did Admiral Kimmel say to you?”

“He queried my missile command mam. Though I managed to say that I was only bluffing.”

She smiled.

“You know Vanderhofen; you will make a damn good submarine captain.”

“Thank you mam.”

“Come on then, let’s take her down.”

As the sub vanished once more, the global temperature was about to rise quite sharply.
...
The USS Arizona was a simple hunter killer and as it approached the Mariana Trench, the captain was a very worried man. At its deepest, it was 36, 198 feet. Well below any crush depth, that ingenious man could yet construct.

“Depth fifteen K sir.”

“Thanks helm. Sonar. Time to play with your new toy.”

The Arizona had just been fitted with the latest in sonar technology. This sub could ping any target whilst remaining undetected.

“What’s down there?” the captain asked.

The operator gave him a rather puzzled look.

“I really don’t know sir.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?”

“Whatever it is sir it’s metallic and about fifty feet long.”

“Down here sir. That is quite impossible.”

“My scope is telling me otherwise.”

The curious captain wandered over and gazed at the screen. Upon it, he saw the curious object for himself.

“Nothing can be sitting on the ocean bed here.”

“I know sir.”

“Helm down twenty K. We’ll damn well take a closer look.”

As the bow dipped, the submarine surged forward toward the waiting trench.

“It’s still there sir.”

“It’s damn peculiar. Anything else?”

“Just the odd fish sir.”

“Perhaps a wreck?” his number two suggested.

The captain scowled.

“Nothing has ever been lost here sir.”

Bring us around again and please double check.”

As the vessel came around for a second pass, a ray struck the bow.

“What was that?” the captain asked.

“No idea sir,” sonar replied.

The helmsman suddenly reported.

“Hull temperature at twenty degrees and rising sir.”

“Now I know that’s impossible.”

“Hull temperature at forty degrees and rising.”

“Take us back to fifteen K,” the captain ordered.

A second ray struck the four screws and as it hit, the spinning turbine shaft shattered. As the boat rocked violently, the electrical systems suddenly shorted.

“What the hell hit us?”

“All systems out sir,” the helmsman reported.

The bow dipped sharply as it dived out of control.

“We are losing her sir.”

As the angle became more extreme, the terrified crew hung on for dear life.

“Can we get a message out?” the captain asked.

“All power for the emergency buoy gone sir.”

The helmsman cried out, “Depth twenty K.”

“That’s nearly crush depth,” the captain whispered.

The hull began to creak as the plummet continued. At a depth of twenty-one K, the pressure hull cracked.

As the ocean rushed in, attempts to close bulkheads failed completely. As the water rose above his head, the captain prayed for a miracle that never came.
...
The USS Virginia was cruising steadily at ten K when the calm communications officer said, “Flash message from Pacific Command mam.”

“Read it out and skip the preamble.”

“To all forces...Today at twenty one hours Zulu, the USS Arizona disappeared whilst engaged upon a Dept of Defence mission. This is to be regarded as a war warning. Signed Admiral Kimmel USN.”

The senior officers glanced at each other.

“It seems sir that the world is about to go mad.”

She took the com and said, “Engineers.”

“Yes mam?”

She glanced at her number two.

“Check out the birds Murray. We may have to use them.”

Within the reactor room, the astonished engineer groaned deeply.

“Come on you lot. Follow me.”

When they entered the missile room, they started checking the intricate launch circuitry.
...
At the UN, tempers were starting to flare. The US envoy was reaching the end of his report.

“The tragic loss of the Arizona was entirely due to hostile acts of the Russian Federation.”

The annoyed Russian spat back.

“Mr Chancey is well aware that we have no submarines in that area. If his government does not reduce its alert status my government will feel obliged to respond.”

The US envoy thumped his table hard.

“Go ahead sir. We are indeed ready and waiting.”

His opposite number stood and marched his delegation out of that now seething cauldron.
...
The USS Eisenhower was the latest in aircraft carriers. Capable of holding twenty fighter-bombers, it was patrolling the eastern Mediterranean whilst watching the skies.

“Anything on radar?” the captain asked.

“The planes report no contact sir.”

“I just hope it stays that way.”

As the fighter cover took up defensive positions, four Mig’s appeared upon the scope.

“We have four hostiles approaching sir.”

The captain responded at once.

“All hands to action stations.”

As the klaxon sounded, a volley of missiles left the approaching warplanes.

“Missiles inbound sir.”

“Where are the fighters?”

“Engaging now captain.”

Seconds later the missiles struck home. As explosions ripped the hull apart, the carrier began to list to port.

“Abandon ship,” the captain called as the raging fires took a firm hold.
...
Aboard the sub, the com officer interrupted.

“Incoming coded message mam.”

Wilma took it slowly.

“I’ll decode this in my cabin number two.”

When she entered the berth, Wilma opened the safe and removed the codebook. After five minutes, she read the urgent alarm.

‘Proceed to Mariana Trench with due speed. Locate and destroy the enemy submarine. You have nuclear consent.”

Wilma closed her eyes and threw the paper onto the bunk.

When she reached the command area, she said quietly, “Make speed to the Mariana Trench helmsman.”

“Yes mam.”

She then took Vanderhofen to one side.

“We have been ordered to destroy the enemy sir. I have nuclear consent.”

“That is not good news at all mam.”

“I tend to agree with you. We have to do this without setting the world alight.”

As the vessel approached she ordered, “Take us to twenty five K.”

The vessel ploughed on as sonar started to report.

“Scope clear mam.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Hold it a second. Picking up a debris field mam.”

“That must be the Arizona,” Vanderhofen whispered.

“Okay helm bring us around, and go to twenty eight K.”

“That is one above crush depth,” Vanderhofen warned.

“That is why I’m worried. We really have to take a closer look.”

As the sub began the turn the communications officer received another message.

“Not now,” the captain said.

“It’s marked D2 mam.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“That is Defcon 2,” Wilma whispered. “One below the launch command.”

“That means we are at war mam,” Vanderhofen said quietly.

“Who with?”

“Your guess is as good as mine mam.”

“Anything on sonar?”

“I seem to be picking up an object mam. Roughly fifty foot long upon the trench floor.”

“Is it metallic?” Vanderhofen asked.

“It sure sounds like it.”

Wilma took a decision.

“Ping her twice.”

As the ping test went out the officer listened intently.

“No response mam.”

The sub moved over the mystery object without incident.

“Take us up twenty K helmsman and do another sweep.”

“Still considering the options?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Certainly am. Whatever is down there may be far more powerful than us.”

The sub suddenly rocked as a beam struck the hull. The helm called out, “Hull temperature twenty degrees and rising.”

Wilma glanced at the helm.

“Get us out of here. Bow planes forty.”

The bow rose as three beams struck hard and fast. The submarine rocked violently.

As the rocking slowly subsided she barked, “All hands damage report.”

As they came in, she realised that they had been lucky.

“What’s the hull temperature?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Back to normal sir.”

The sub rose rapidly until another beam struck the four screws. As they splintered violently, the drive shaft snapped.

“We have major damage captain,” the engineer reported.

“How bad?”

“I reckon we have had it.”

“Helm?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Control gone sir.”

As the bow dipped, the captain took a last, desperate gamble.

“Cut the reactor Murray and switch to batteries.”

“What’s the plan?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Let’s try gliding for a change.”

“Helmsman, make for the trench shelf.”

“I’ll try mam.”

As he fought the useless controls, the bow plunged deeper.

“All hands brace for impact.”

At the last moment, the bow lifted and struck the shelf square on. As it slid along the rock-strewn shelf, the stern crashed down hard.

“I think we made it,” Wilma said with some relief.

The com buzzed and she took it.

“Sorry mam. The turbine hall is flooding. We have sealed it off.”

Wilma stepped away.

“That means regardless of what we do now, we will never get off this shelf.”

Vanderhofen glanced at the depth gauge.

“We are at twenty eight nine hundred mam. Just a little above crush depth.”

She looked at him grimly.

“Now we are in trouble.”

She thought for a moment.

“Cut all power.”

As the sub fell into an eerie darkness, the hull began to creak alarmingly. To be continued...

The sub had departed Durban a month earlier, and was happily heading in a northeast direction when the communications officer barked.

“Message from Pacific Command sir.”

“Let’s hear it then,” Vanderhofen said slowly.

“Proceed to Muscat and await orders.”

Vanderhofen screwed his eyes.

“That’s the State of Oman, not that far from Iranian territorial waters.”

He plodded over to the electronic map and mulled it over.
“What are they up to?” he murmured to himself.

He turned and said, “Helm steer north five degrees at thirty knots. Depth eight hundred.”

“Aye sir.”

He watched the trim gauge tilt as the dive got underway. After a few moments, he reached a command decision. He hit the intercom and said, “All hands, this is the captain. Battle stations.”

This order resulted in controlled chaos. Within the torpedo room, the four tubes were loaded and sealed. After five minutes the communications officer happily reported.

“All stations report ready sir.”

“Thanks com.”

The sub ploughed on until the location was reached. As it entered the area, a second message was received.

As Vanderhofen read it, he became just a little concerned.

‘Locate and pick up Allah Torbis and deliver to Midway.'

“I’ve heard of him,” Vanderhofen commented. “He’s a big shot Iranian scientist.”

“Maybe he is trying to defect sir,” the com said.

“In which case this may not be an easy operation. Bring us to periscope depth.”

As the periscope broke surface, the captain peered around at the sloshing waves.

“I can see a motorboat heading our way,” he muttered. “All hands prepare to surface.”

When the conning tower reared into view, he clambered out and was just in time to see the desperate man leap aboard. As the motorboat tore away, Vanderhofen greeted him.

“Welcome aboard sir. Please follow me.” Allah Torbis

After clambering down the ladder, the captain got a good look at him. Dressed in a smart suit and with a bushy beard, Allah Torbis looked rather nervous.

“Don’t worry sir,” Vanderhofen said. “You are quite safe here.”

After a pause he added, “Bow planes to forty, prepare to dive.”

The bow went under, followed soon after by the conning tower. A few moments later com picked up a signal.

“We have a torpedo boat sir heading straight for us.”

“Take us to six hundred and steer south by ten degrees. We should shake him off.”

The communications officer listened carefully.

“We have two charges in the drink sir.”

“I should have expected that,” Vanderhofen muttered.

“Six degrees to port.”

As the sub turned, the depth charges detonated. The vessel shook and rolled slightly, but no damage was inflicted upon the modern pressure hull.

“As I said professor, nothing to be alarmed about. Let me show you to my quarters.”
...
Upon the surface, an Iranian destroyer was busily hunting for the enemy vessel and its captain was determined to collect. After a ten minute fruitless search, he decided to deploy his country’s version of the Asroc system.

He watched it launch and take a ballistic trajectory before the parachute opened. As it reached the surface this was jettisoned, and the acoustic homing system began the lethal search.

Upon his bridge, the captain smiled with pleasure.
...
“We have Asroc in the drink sir and acquiring target.”

“Damn it! Four degrees starboard. Deploy countermeasures.”

Three boomerangs spun away as the sub ran for safety.

“It’s ignoring them sir.”

“Bow planes up forty and deploy countermeasures.”

Everyone held their collective breath as the torpedo homed in.

“It’s going to be close sir.”

A sudden crump was quickly followed by a violent shaking. Two jets of water shot from a damaged valve, showering the command area with seawater.

“Damage teams to the com. Sonar report.”

As he listened, the damage team arrived.

“She’s still there sir.”

As the spanners were used to shut the leak off, Vanderhofen studied the electronic map.

“I thought there was a sandbank here.”

Turning sharply he asked, “How far is she from the sandbank sonar?”

“One hundred yards sir.”

“Bring us about. Load tube one with a practice torpedo.”

Within the torpedo room, the four crewmen manhandled the live fish
out before replacing it.

“Tube one ready sir.”

“We are going to give that captain the fright of his life. Take us
to periscope depth.”

The sub rose quickly until Vanderhofen could see quite clearly.

“Left four degrees and fire one.”

He watched the distinctive streak head towards the waiting hull, as the enemy captain attempted to swing his ship out of harm’s way.

When it struck with a loud clang, he was rather relieved.

“Now get us out of here,” Vanderhofen barked.

As the sub turned for safer waters, the captain of the destroyer called in air support. Two fighter jets quickly appeared and launched two missiles at the fleeing underwater target.

Vanderhofen really thought that he had got away with it, until the sonar operator gave him some very bad news.

“I have two birds in the drink sir.”

“Ruddy missiles,” the captain muttered. “Twelve degrees to port and dive.”

The hull swung as the vessel gained some much-needed depth. The brainless missiles streaked on.

“It’s going to be close again sir.”

Everyone heard the loud whoosh as the missiles streaked by, before exploding upon the seabed. The sub rolled violently as the concussion wave hit.

“I need damage reports,” Vanderhofen ordered.

When these came through, he was rather relieved.

“We can’t keep taking this much punishment.”

His agile mind quickly came up with a desperate plan.

“Take us to launch depth. Com, transmit the following message on all frequencies. We are under attack and preparing bird one for flight.”

“Aye sir.”

As the vessel rose to assume a bow down configuration, Vanderhofen knew the threat was an empty one. Without the codes, the missile was quite useless.

“Launch depth sir.”

Vanderhofen took a deep breath.

“Bring us up slowly and when clear open missile tube one.”

As they surfaced, he scrambled up the ladder as the ominous hatch slid back to its launch position.

He gazed at the visible warhead and spotted the two approached fighter planes.

“I hope you see the open tube.”

He waited as they came on in an attack posture before suddenly swinging away towards their own airspace. As Vanderhofen almost collapsed with relief he called down, “Close missile tube one and dive two hundred.”

The sub quickly vanished below the swirling sea and he popped in to see the injured captain.

“Had fun?” she asked glancing up from the book.

“Not much mam. We sustained slight damage though. I’ll set course for Midway and deliver our esteemed guest. Your hands will be ready by then.”

“They feel ready now,” Wilma said.

He shook his head.

“When the doc says a week he means just that. You have two days to go mam.”

“Who’s our guest?”

Vanderhofen smiled.

“An Iranian defector mam. Probably thought he was safer elsewhere. I’m just about to check on him.”

He left her to the book and stuck his head into his cabin. He had expected to see the guest sitting upon his bunk.

“Oh good grief.”

The scientist was lying upon the floor with a razor in his hand. Blood was still flowing freely from the fatal throat wound.

Vanderhofen shook his head.

“All that for ruddy nothing.”

Senator Bradley and his wife had taken a month off their busy Washington life, to go cruising upon their luxury yacht Freedom.
They had left Durban and intended to port at Cape Town completely ignoring the raging ocean around the Cape of Good Hope.

This place had been feared by sailors for centuries, and with good reason. Far too many vessels had vanished, or been smashed to pieces upon the sharp rocky outcropping.

“How are we doing Norman?”

“We should be there Catherine in about another year.”

She wandered from the luxury galley and entered the wheelhouse.

“The Southern Ocean seems calm today.”

“A bit too calm for my liking dear. I would at least like a bit of swell.”

“What? And make me seasick again. No thanks.”

The bow ploughed on as a mist began to rise from the ocean surface.

“This is more like it,” Norman commented. “Now we can really sail.”

The mist rapidly grew thicker and the swell arrived as if to please him.
“How you doing dear?”

“Alright so far I guess.”

A dark shape began to appear six points off their port bow and the senator gazed in wonder.

“I’ll have to steer to starboard my dear. This chap may not see us.”
As he swung the heavy wheel, his wife pointed.

“That’s a strange vessel. What do you make of it?”

The senator gazed through the gloom and saw the high rigging, the huge sails, and the tall masts of a vessel from times of old.

“Must be the replica of a 1740 ship my dear. What it s doing out here though beats me.”

As it approached his port side, a dark figure appeared upon their prow.

“Who’s that?” his wife asked.

“No one can get on board. You take the wheel and I’ll go and find out.”

He left the wheelhouse and approached the strange apparition with reasonable apprehension.

“Who the hell are you?”

As the figure stepped forward, the senator saw the old pirate uniform, the blazing black beard, and the sharpened cutlass.

“You can’t be real...”

The cutlass swung and his astonished head rolled into the ocean.

“Norman?”

His wife watched as the figure approached the wheelhouse.
“Whoever you are stay away. I am armed.”

The figure stopped at the open door as she stared in mounting disbelief.

“Get off this ship!”

The figure simply grinned and swung at her thrice. The blade sliced through her arm upon the first stroke. The second took an ear off, whilst the third pierced her heart. As she collapsed, the figure turned to vapour.
...
The sub was nearing the African coast at the outer limit of its patrol area when the communications officer barked.

“Flash message from Pacific Command.”

Wilma glanced at him.

“Read it out com.”

“Proceed at once to grid reference D 20/E30/H30. Locate Senator Bradley and his wife. Message ends.”

“Now we do rescue missions?” Vanderhofen asked.

“We do whatever the brass asks of us number two.”

She turned toward the electronic map and studied the map coordinates.

“That’s a pretty large area sir. It runs from Durban to Cape Town.”
Vanderhofen shook his head.

“Which means the Cape of Good Hope.”

She smiled at him.

“You know the legend too I take it.”

He nodded.

“Who doesn’t know the story of the Flying Dutchman. A crazed captain being caught in a massive storm and crying out, that he would rather be damned than fail to round the horn. The story goes that he was damned to spend eternity trying to round it.”

“An old wives tale my boy. Set course for the cape and rise to two hundred.”

The sleek dark vessel slowly rose through the depths as the miles closed in.

“Periscope depth,” she called.

Peering through the viewfinder, she swung the periscope around.

“Nothing seems to be here... Hold on one second. Turn four degrees to port.”

As the bow swung in the required direction, a drifting vessel came into view.

“Bingo,” she muttered. “All hands prepare to surface and break out the dinghy.”

The great vessel rose into the air and as the water drained off, Vanderhofen and a small team clambered upon the deck.

“Lucky for us the ocean is calm,” he muttered. “Get the dinghy in the drink and we’ll check her out.”

The submariners rowed quickly and were soon upon the drifting vessel. As they reached the deck a crewman muttered, “There doesn’t appear to be anyone home sir.”

“We don’t want another Marie Celeste on our hands. Check everywhere. Even under the bunks.”

Vanderhofen walked toward the small wheelhouse and gazing in stopped dead.

“Crewmen!”

As they came running he pointed.

“Seems as though we have found his wife at least. Carry out a full search then we will carry her aboard.”

The actual search was soon completed and the unhappy second in command helped to carry the body into the waiting dinghy. Once aboard the sub, she was taken to the medical area.

“I’ve radioed the location to Cape Town coastguard,” Wilma said.

“She was chopped up captain,” Vanderhofen said. “A true professional did that.”

“You think Somali pirates did this?”

“I don’t know mam. We are well beyond their operational area.”

She agreed.

“I’ll see what the doc has to say. You take the con.”

As she left, he said wearily, “Prepare to dive. Bow planes down ten.”

The doctor gazed at the body with a look of surprise upon his normally placid face.

“What do you think?”

“Well mam, the missing arm, and ear are indicative of sword wounds. As is the strike to the chest.”

“That’s rather old fashioned surely.”

“So you would think. Yet there she is.”

“I certainly cannot dispute that doc. Our government ain’t going to be too pleased either.”

She left him to it and returned to the command area.

“Depth one hundred mam,” the helmsman reported.

“Where do you want to take her?” Vanderhofen asked.

Wilma thought it over.

“Durban is close enough. We should make for there.”

The sub swung onto its new course, as a thick mist drifted over the calm surface. A sudden clanking upon the surface of the vessel made everyone look up.

“We may be encountering debris mam,” Vanderhofen suggested.

“Sonar, do you have anything?”

“No mam.”

The clanking came again.

“That is ruddy peculiar,” she muttered.

A sudden thump almost made her jump.

“I’ve had enough of this lark,” she muttered. “Surface.”

As soon as the bow cleared, Wilma stepped onto the conning tower and gazed around.

“Apart from a thick mist there is nothing here.”

She was just about to scramble down the ladder, when a dark figure appeared upon the bow. Wilma gazed at it with some surprise. Hitting the intercom she called out, “Vanderhofen come up here.”

When he arrived, she pointed.

“Please tell me that I haven’t lost my marbles.”

“It certainly looks real mam. That’s an old Dutch pirate uniform.”

“How can he be here though?”

Vanderhofen shook his head.

“Old wives tale or not,” Wilma muttered. “We cannot have him standing here.”

The dark figure took a solitary step forward.

“That’s a cutlass mam. Remember the wounds?”

“Of course I do. Take us down two hundred. The quicker we leave this place the better.”

After sealing the hatch the sub dived beneath the waves as the two puzzled officers exchanged glances.

“Anything on sonar yet?”

“No mam. Just as before.”

A sudden clanking was quickly followed by a second and third.

“It’s heading for the stern mam,” the second officer informed her.

She activated the com.

“Reactor room, any noise down your end?”

Murray swiftly replied.

“It certainly is noisy mam. What is it?”

“We have no idea. I’m coming down.”

She dashed through the boat and raced into the reactor room. The loud clanking continued overhead.

“This is really getting spooky,” she commented.

Thrice more the clanking was heard, until it suddenly stopped.
Moments later a dark form stepped through a control panel. The astonished second engineer simply gaped.

The cutlass swung savagely and he crashed to the floor.

Wilma reacted calmly to this unexpected development.

“Get your men out of here now.”

“You chaps follow me,” Murray said.

Wilma active the com and said, “All hands intruder alert reactor room. Security team on the double.”

She watched as the silent pirate walked around the bleeding corpse simply smiling.

“Whoever or whatever you are, you are not welcome here.”

Four armed men dashed through the open bulkhead and stopped.

“I warn you again,” Wilma said.

“Have it your way then. Open fire.”

The security team drew their pistols and fired a series of shots at the strange figure. As each bullet struck however, it simply passed through and embedded itself within the wall.

“Cease fire.”

“What do we do mam?”

She shook her head.

“On this occasion I’m open to suggestions.”

The figure swung the cutlass and seemed to march towards them.

“Everyone out,” she said.

As the last man reached safety, Wilma scrambled through and sealed the bulkhead door.

“I really don’t think that will stop him,” she muttered.

The crew backed away as the loud clanking resumed once more.

“This is Vanderhofen. Everyone alright back there.”

Wilma took the com and replied sternly, “Of course not. We lost an engineer. That pirate of yours has taken control of the reactor room.”

“We should surface mam,” the second in command pointed out.

“No we don’t. Continue our current heading. Not even a bloodthirsty ghost is going to stop this vessel.”

“Aye mam.”

Wilma glanced at the chief engineer and asked, “Can he do any damage in there?”

Murray nodded.

“With that cutlass he could easily wreck the controls mam. Then we would really be in trouble.”

The clanking came again but this time it was a little weaker.
“What’s he up to?”

“Judging by the sound mam, I’d say he was heading for the screw turbine.”

Wilma became alarmed.

“That’s our lifeline. He can’t touch that.”

“I have an idea mam,” engineer Murray said.

“Out with it then.”

“Iron has always been the traditional enemy of evil. If one of us could pierce him with it...”

As she mulled this over, the faint clanking stopped.

“He’s entered the turbine hall mam,” Murray whispered.

“Go and get the crowbar.”

He nodded as Captain Harris began pacing the missile room. When he returned she took it from him.

“Let me do it mam.”

“Captain’s prerogative Murray. Once I’m through reseal.”

She found herself creeping across the reactor floor, inching toward the important hall. The turbine drove the four exterior screws that propelled the vessel through the dark ocean depths. If that went, they would not live very long.

When she entered, her eyes fell upon the huge spinning shaft.

“At least you are okay.”

She glanced around, but their visitor was nowhere to be seen.

As she stepped forward, he re-emerged through the turbine itself and advanced toward her.

“I hope your fencing skills are as rusty as my own mate.”

The cutlass swung and Wilma ducked.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” she muttered.

Backing toward a metal grill, she watched as it swung again. She threw herself across the floor, rolling until she sprang up again.

The infuriated spectre swung around and advanced quickly. The cutlass rose and swished down toward her head. Wilma brought the crowbar up sharply and the metal clanged loudly as the blade struck.

A blinding flash of light occurred as the energy was discharged violently, hurtling the captain across the vibrating floor.
...
“No I don’t want jelly.”
“I think she is coming around now,” the doctor muttered.

“How long...?”

“Twenty minutes mam.”

“Has he...”

“Gone you mean?” Vanderhofen asked. “He certainly has.”

She tried to focus upon the bandaged hands but quickly gave up.

“You have light burns that’s all,” the doctor assured her.

She tried to sit up but Vanderhofen restrained her.

“The doc has given you a week off mam.”

She shook her head.

“He can’t do that...”

“Oh yes I can mam. On medical matters, I outrank you. I could off course have you restrained.”

Vanderhofen glared at him.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Wilma groaned and whispered, “Suppose you are in charge then captain.”

He nodded.

“Yes mam.”

The cleaning operation did indeed take a day however; Admiral Kimmel decided that a refit was in order.

As the month drew to an end, Captain Harris found herself standing before him.

“Stand at ease captain. Try and relax.”

Wilma knew better than that.

“You have made quite a name for yourself.”

“Sir?”

“Your rather unique solution to the Philippines standoff has impressed important people.”

She remained silent as the admiral handed her a paper. As she looked, she saw her own picture below the headline, ‘Please run for the Whitehouse.’

“I don’t know what to say sir,” she said putting it down.

“It’s of no consequence captain. You will be glad to know that following the Chinese premier’s suggestion of a trade agreement, our president has agreed.”

“Glad to hear it sir.”

The admiral gave her a rather steely look.

“The Chinese premier has insisted that the signing ceremony takes place aboard your vessel.”

Wilma was gobsmacked.

“May I ask where sir?”

The admiral smiled.

“Would you believe Shanghai?”

“I’ve never been sir.”

“Don’t look so surprised captain. Neither have I. Apparently Captain Yohipsan will be there with his daughter Hunan Wye.”

“I look forward to meeting them sir.”

“You made a great impression upon him Wilma. Thanks to you relations
are at last thawing.”

“That will certainly improve things sir.”

“When you meet them, just be yourself eh? Try to let your hair down for once.”

She smiled.

“You may go. You leave at dawn.”

Wilma saluted and left at once. Outside the headquarters, Vanderhofen was waiting.

“How did it go mam?”

“Pretty well sir. We depart for Shanghai at dawn. Pretty early I would say.”

“That’s China mam.”

Wilma winked.

“I know it is.”

She slept fitfully, until the call of command echoed inside her ears once more.
...
The voyage from Guam to the Chinese port passed uneventfully and as the USS Vancouver entered, three Chinese warships fired their guns in honourable salute.

“Quite a welcome,” Vanderhofen commented.

“I quite like it.”

After drawing up at the quay, two vehicles arrived and the signing party approached the gangplank.

“Here we go,” she muttered.

“Nervous?”

She glanced at her number two.

“Of course I am.”

As the president approached, she shook his hand.

“Welcome aboard sir. May I direct you to the com?”

“Please do captain.”

After climbing down the ladder, the president glanced around.

“Quite lovely. We would like to do the signing inside your cabin.”

“This way sir.”

The president sat as China’s famous premier entered.

“You have quite a boat here captain.

“Well thank you sir.”

“I believe that you know Captain Yohipsan?”

“How lovely to see you again sir.”

“Likewise. May I present my daughter Hunan Wye?”

Wilma shook hands whilst trying to ignore the low cut dress.”

“Would you be kind enough to pose for a photo?” the president asked.

“Would love to sir.”

As photographers flashbulbs fired, the trade agreement was signed at last.
...
As evening approached, the formal dinner was coming to an end within the Shanghai hotel. Wilma was now dressed in formal uniform with gold braids attached.

As she sank the third glass of wine, Captain Yohipsan smiled.

“I have arranged for us to be located next door.”

Wilma smiled.

“That would be lovely captain. It makes a welcome change from my hard bunk.”

The captain grinned.

“In my country mam, a hard bunk is a sign of strength.”

Wilma felt herself giggle, but managed to stop it in the nick of time.

“In my country hard bunks keep us awake sir.”

“Before we retire,” Hunan Wye said. “May I have a word captain?”

Wilma nodded helpfully.

“I don’t see why not.”

As the final toasts ended, the two leaders retired and Wilma decided it was time to go.

“If I could be excused?”

Captain Yohipsan stood and said, “We will accompany you.”

When they reached their adjacent rooms, Hunan Wye turned toward her distinguished father.

“We need to chat now.”

The captain bowed as Wilma let herself inside.

The room itself was sumptuous, and the bed looked so inviting. She glanced around for security cams but could not see any.

“What do you want to discuss that seems so urgent?” Wilma asked.

The twenty-five year old woman stepped forward and swiftly unzipped the front of her dress. As she pushed it from her shoulders Wilma quipped, “The things that I do for my country.”

She sighed deeply and started to undress herself.

As they lay in each other’s arms afterwards Wilma said softly, “You still have not told me you know.”

The young woman cuddled up, folding a thigh across Wilma’s stomach.

“My father has heard rumblings within the military. Nothing concrete you understand but acutely significant.

“Why use that word?”

“There seems to be a plot to wreck this trade agreement, organised by two party officials.”

“What kind of plot?” Wilma asked nervously.

“Some kind of assassination I believe.”

Wilma sat bolt upright.

“Why the hell not mention this earlier?”

“I had my reasons.”

“I bet you did. Get dressed my dear.”

She reached across to her uniform and pulled out the radio.

“Come in Vanderhofen!”

A moment later the second in command answered.

“Captain. Having a pleasant night I hope.”

“Just shut up a moment. I need every crew member armed and deployed in the foyer of the Shanghai hotel at once.”

There was a significant delay.

“Say again?”

“Arm the men and come to my ruddy location. Oh yes, bring a weapon for me.”

“Will do mam.”

As the line died, Wilma dressed rapidly and grabbed the woman’s arm.

“Come on, we need to see your father!”

As they reached his door, the young daughter entered.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Sorry father.”

“I know about the plot captain,” Wilma said. “We need to protect both leaders.”

The captain climbed out and dressed rapidly.

“Follow me. They are located upon the tenth floor.”

When they reached it, the four-armed security guards threatened to react.

“We need both leaders out of here right now!” Wilma snapped.

When their doors opened at last, the two sleepy gents were none too pleased.

“I hope one of you has an explanation for this?” the president asked.

Wilma pushed Hunan Wye forward.

“Just tell them!”

When the story came out, the Chinese premier was rather annoyed.

“I know of these two officials. They would never do such a thing.”

“Would you trust your life upon it sir?” Wilma asked.

“We need to believe her,” the president said.

“I want you both safely out of here,” she said. “My men are en route as we speak.”

Captain Yohipsan said, “If you would both follow me.”

As the security team moved ahead, the presidential party led the way towards the foyer as Vanderhofen arrived with seventy armed men. The entire sub’s compliment had been drafted, including Murray the engineer.

As they dashed inside, the shocked Chinese guards failed to react.

“Disarm them,” Vanderhofen ordered.

When this was done, the security team appeared on the top landing.
Wilma looked down as a tank shell tore the front of the building apart.

As the dust cleared, Vanderhofen pointed.

“Everyone to the landing. Now move it!”

As he reached her, he handed over the machine gun.

“We seem to be caught in the middle of a coup,” he quipped.

“That’s the last ruddy dinner I’m going to,” Wilma hissed.

She turned to the leaders and said, “We need to get out of here right now.”

The Chinese premier nodded down the corridor.

“Only my room has a fire escape.”

“Then let’s go there sir.”

As they moved off, she turned to her second in command.

“Any casualties?”

He shook his head frantically.

“No. We were damn lucky.”

“Come on then.”

They crew followed the premier to his room and onto the rear fire escape. Once they were all safely upon the alleyway the president took her arm.

“If we get out of this captain, I’ll pin a medal to your chest.”

She simply stared.

“Right, I need three men including Murray.”

“You can count me in,” Vanderhofen said.

Wilma shook her head.

“If anything happens to me you need to get these folks to safety. Stay here eh?”

Wilma stared at Captain Yohipsan.

“Give him your weapon Vanderhofen.”

When it was handed over, his daughter threw her arms around him.

“No daddy!”

“Please daughter. Do not disgrace me here.”

Wilma grabbed his arm roughly.

“Love is never a disgrace captain. Right, you are coming with us.”

The four men dashed to the end of the dark alleyway and Wilma looked around the corner.

“All clear. Let’s go.”

They ran across the road and slowly reached the front apex. As she looked, the tank fired again. The entire front section collapsed in a haze of dust and she cursed.

“It’s a ruddy T-36!”

Sitting back, she called the engineer forward.

“I need to know that damn thing’s weak point.”

Murray glanced around the corner and moments later said, “The fuel tank is well protected mam. Only a direct assault upon the turret will do any good.”

“How do we get the damn turret open without grenades?”

Captain Yohipsan had an idea.

“One of us has to fire a round down the barrel. If that tank crew are worth their salt, they should have another shell in there.

Wilma looked at him in horror.

“That would be suicide. The damn thing would detonate.”

The captain gave her a solemn look.

“Please allow me to die for my country.”

She patted his shoulder and kissed him upon the cheek.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“I will miss you too captain.”

They watched as he carefully crept forward. Moments later, he dashed toward the armoured monster and stopped at its flank. Cocking the machine gun, he ran towards the lowered barrel.

“This is for China!”

As he fired, both he and the tank were blown to eternity.

Wilma looked towards her waiting men.

“We should get back.”

Dashing once more into the alleyway, Wilma walked towards the presidential party and her waiting crew.

“The coup is over Mr Premier. You can deal with those behind it.”

As the captain’s daughter heard this, she noticed that he was missing.

“Where is daddy?”

“Sorry love,” Wilma whispered.

As she collapsed into grief the premier said, “My people will remember what you did today.”

“As long as you remember Captain Yohipsan sir.”

“He will always be honoured captain. I will make sure of it.”
...
The stay over in Shanghai was a little longer than expected. The president and the premier of China insisted upon it.

At a great ceremony, the medal for distinguished conduct was pinned upon Wilma’s formal uniform.

The Chinese premier went one better.

Not only was she awarded the title of saviour of China, but her crew were granted honorary life citizens. As was she. As for the two party members behind the failed coup. Their fate was quietly forgotten.

When the festivities were at last over, she found herself once more within her own cabin. When the door rapped, she glanced up.

“Come in.”

“We have left the harbour mam,” Vanderhofen said.

“Continue due south sir. Go to one hundred.”

He noticed a rather downcast look upon her usually happy face.

“What’s the matter?”

Wilma just looked and remained silent.

As the sub continued upon its voyage the communications officer received a flash message from Pacific Command. Vanderhofen read it before handing it to the captain.

“We are to proceed to the north Philippines mam and intercept the Chanho.”

“That’s a Chinese warship. What’s that doing so far south?”

“Perhaps we should find out mam.”

She looked at the orders and winced.

“I really hope they don’t expect me to start a ruddy war.”
As the vessel headed for the target, a second message arrived within that hour.

“Now what?”

The second officer read it and cheered up.

“We are to rendezvous with the USS Wilson mam.”

“That’s a cruise missile carrier number two. Not good news at all.”

She turned to the helm.

“Go to four hundred and steer thirty degrees north.”

“Aye mam.”

When the sub surfaced, a dingy took her towards the waiting warship.
Once aboard, she was escorted to a very worried captain.

“Nice to meet you captain,” he said quietly. “These are hazardous times that we live in.”

“They are indeed sir. May I ask what my orders are?”

The captain smiled.

“Admiral Kimmel has something of a problem you see. China claims these waters and Manila reject that claim. Our president feels that the arrival of this missile destroyer is one provocation too many.”

Wilma shuffled her feet nervously.

“However captain, the admiral has other ideas. He wants you to come up with a plan to move this destroyer without starting a war.”

“Why me sir?”

The captain stared at her.

“He feels that your are the best woman for the job. Think you can handle it?”

“I’m sure that I can sir. What will be your role may I ask?”

He looked toward the floor.

“I’m here just in case you fail.”

“Permission to depart sir?”

“You may go.”

As she marched toward the door he added, “I really would not like to be in your shoes.”

Once on board the sub, she called Vanderhofen to her cabin.

“Close the door.”

“You look worried mam.”

“They want me to move that Chinese vessel without getting into a shooting match.”

“Sounds like a rather tall order.”

“I agree with you. What else do we know about the Chanho?”

“I checked the records whilst you were away. Her captain goes by the name of Yohipsan. A career officer who sank two Japanese fishing vessels two years ago, simply for straying into Chinese territorial waters.”

Wilma hung her head.

“That was not what I wanted to hear. So you think he would rather stand and fight?”

Vanderhofen nodded.

As she sat in silence, he smiled.

“I can hear your brain working Wilma.”

For the first time in her long career she actually laughed.

“Is it that obvious?”

He nodded.

“You’ll come up with a plan.”

She stood and patted his shoulder.

“Take the com eh?”

“Should I assume an attack posture?”

“Eh, take her to four hundred first. I want a word with Murray
first.”

As he headed back, she made her towards the reactor room.

“Oh it’s you mam.”

“I see that the berths are dry again?”

“We also replaced the sheered nuts mam. I hope to avoid a repeat.”

She smiled kindly.

“As a matter of fact so do I. Look, I need to pick your brain for a moment.”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“If enemy soldiers took the boat how would you get them off?”

The engineer smiled.

“I would use an old submariner’s trick mam.”

“Can you show me?”

“Of course. Follow me then.”

He led her back towards the berths and kneeling produced a metallic key. He inserted it into the floor plate and turned. After lifting the hidden hatch, he pointed.

“I would expose these batteries to salt water you see. That would release chlorine gas. The troops would either leave or die where they stood.”

She thought this over.

“How long before chlorine levels reached lethality.

“In this tub about fifteen minutes mam.”

She nodded coldly.

“Then do it Murray.”

“Right you are mam. I’ll take the water from the bilge tanks. Remember though, once done it cannot be stopped.”

She nodded again.

“Let me know when it starts eh?”

“As if Id forget a simple thing like that mam.”

When she returned to the command area Vanderhofen reported.

“We are nearly at the position mam.”

“Maintain depth but bring us a hundred yards off his stern.”

“Aye mam.”

As moments passed she waited for the dreaded call. When it came, she reacted accordingly.

“Evacuate everyone to the food hall and seal the bulkhead.”

As the bridge crew watched, she waited a moment.

“Bow planes to fifty helmsman, emergency ascent. Blow the ballast tanks.”

As the vessel rose rapidly, she hit the communicator.

“This is the captain. When we break surface, I want all crew on
deck.”

She walked over to the communications officer and said, “When we surface, transmit SOS on all frequencies.”

“Yes mam.”

“You are staying behind,” Vanderhofen said slowly.

“I’m the captain sir. Always the last to leave.”

As the bow smashed into the cold air, the hatches opened and the crew began to assemble on the pitching deck. As the engineer reached the command area, Wilma buttonholed him.

“How long till we are safe?”

“Once the decontamination teams start, about twenty-four hours mam.”

“Up you go. You too mate.”

The communications officer climbed the ladder leaving Vanderhofen and the captain still below.

As she gazed at the silent room, she pointed.

“You next. I’m right behind you.”

As they emerged, the engineer pointed.

“She’s turning around captain.”

Wilma glanced at her second in command.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t blow us out of the water.”

As they watched, a klaxon sounded and the missile destroyer drew
alongside. As grappling nets were lowered, Wilma gave the order to board.

She was quickly shown into the captain’s cabin, where he greeted her rather warmly.

“Thanks for helping.”

“It was a pleasure. I have of course informed my government and
await their decision.”

She smiled sweetly.

“We had a release of chlorine. My engineer tells me that we need a
decontamination team to get rid of it. It should take around twenty-four hours.”

The Chinese captain thought this over.

“Perhaps I should tow you to the Philippines captain.”

Wilma shook her head.

“That base was decommissioned last year sir. We have the necessary facilities at Guam though.”

Captain Yohipsan smiled.

“If my government agree of course, I would be very happy to tow you there.”

Wilma smiled happily.

“Thank you sir.”

The captain wandered over to a cabinet and opened it.

“Would you join me in a drink captain?”

“Not while on duty sir.”

He stopped at once.

“Of course. You will dine with me I hope.”

“It would be an honour sir.”

The captain smiled.

“Return to your crew captain. I’ll have your sub lashed to my ship and then the long tow begins.”

Yohipsan was true to his word. The Chinese government not only authorised the tow, but insisted that all courtesy should be shown to the crew, and of course the captain.

As night fell, Wilma was nearing the end of a rather pleasant oyster and lobster meal. She now felt comfortable enough to relax.

“You know sir; I’ve always admired the Chinese navy.”

“I too admire your submariner’s captain. Also their very able female captain. The only one I understand.”

She nodded sadly.

Then, as an afterthought she added, “Perhaps one day we can be friends?”

Her host smiled.

“Perhaps we can.”

As dawn broke, the USS Vancouver was towed into Guam harbour where naval vessels hooted at the good news.

As she was disembarking the Chinese captain quipped, “Any time you need assistance captain, just give me a call.”

She stopped and rushed over. Taking his hand warmly she said, “You are indeed a true friend sir.”

Stepping onto the quay of the naval dockyard, Vanderhofen said quietly, “Quite a politician aren’t we? You should run for president.”

She quickly nudged him in the ribs.

“Don’t tempt me...”

The two fishermen knew these dark waters well. Their simple vessel had ploughed through the waves for over twenty years, always in search of the sharks.

“Anything on sonar?” Captain Yanshee asked.

“Seems to be a couple of shark’s eight points to the north.”

The captain smiled and turned the wheel sharply.

“Prepare the harpoon would you?”

His first mate walked onto the heaving deck and reached the prow. He carefully placed the lethal weapon into the launcher and called out, “Ready when you are.”

The bows ploughed on as a dorsal fin broke surface.

“I’ll have you mate.”

He took careful aim and was about to fire when a peculiar brown tentacle snatched the fin from his view.

“What the hell was that?”

“Did you get him?” the captain asked.

“No we didn’t. Something got it first. What’s on sonar?”

“A large shoal.”

“Are you quite sure about that?”

“Positive. Why?”

“The thing that got our friend was no fish, believe you me.”

He scanned the rolling ocean as a huge humped shape rose just off their bow.

“Hey, there it is,” the first mate called.

The captain checked his sonar again.

“Some kind of fish.”

The first mate shook his head.

“That is definitely not a fish mate.”

Two huge tentacles rose from the ocean and crashed upon the deck.
The hapless fisherman was tossed overboard by the impact.

As the surprised captain screamed, his wheelhouse was smashed to pieces. A great tentacle whirled around his waist and pulled him screaming into the raging sea.

As the stranded first mate watched, the old vessel went down by the stern.

“Periscope depth mam.”

Wilma gazed through the viewer at the distant island of Guam.

“Any message for us?”

“No mam,” Vanderhofen replied.

A sudden dark shape came into view and she increased the magnification. She clearly saw a struggling man just off their port bow.

“Surface and get a grappling hook on deck now!”

As the conning broke through the water, the struggling man held out a desperate arm.

“Help!”

The hatches opened and three crewmen appeared.

“There he is,” the captain pointed.

“Just hold on to this mate.”

The struggling man grabbed the hook tightly and was slowly hauled aboard.

“Get him to the doc now,” Wilma said. “All ahead full.”

She found him shivering in the medical area as the doc checked him over.

“He should be alright. Just in shock I think.”

“Find him some dry clothes,” she ordered.

“Thanks for taking me in.”

“That’s what we are here for. What were you doing in the drink?”

“My vessel went down. Something came out of the sea and crushed it like matchwood.”

The doc shook his head sadly.

“Obviously post shock trauma.”

“I’m not imagining it,” he insisted.

“What’s your name by the way?”

“Viktor.”

She smiled.

“Okay Viktor. Once you have dried up, come to the com and tell us
what happened. The guard will show you the way.”

Half an hour later, Viktor had cheered up.

“Lovely vessel mam.”

“She certainly is. This is my second in command Vanderhofen.”

They shook hands.

“What happened exactly?” she asked gently.

“We were shark fishing when some kind of tentacle animal sank us.”

“How many of you were there?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Just the captain. We have worked together for donkey’s years.”

Wilma turned to sonar.

“Anything upon that scope?”

“No mam. As clear as a whistle.”

“Damn strange that it simply disappeared.”

“I agree number two. We’ll drop Viktor off at Guam before heading
out again.”

“I need to see this thing dead,” the sailor insisted.

“I can understand,” Wilma said. “However we are a military outfit and can’t go on a fishing expedition.”

The fisherman shook his head.

“Whatever took my ship will strike again mam. I would rather you stopped it before then.”

She nodded.

“Take him to a cabin and continue to Guam at full speed.”

They contacted the coastguard and handed him over just beyond the reef. As they set off again the sailor cursed.

“I tried to warn you!”
...
“Where to now mam?” the helmsman asked.

“We will return to the position where we found our friend. Take us down fifty.”

As the vessel sank beneath the waves, four miles to the north a trawler was happily pulling in the nets.

“Nearly there captain.”

“That’s good. That is our last one for today. Home for supper eh?”

The mechanical winch suddenly seized up.

“Damn,” the sailor hissed. “Sorry sir, something’s caught in the net.”

He was about to cut the line when a tentacle swept across the deck.
Its suckers smashed the wheelhouse as the brown body surfaced.

“Everyone to the boats!” the sailor yelled as a second tentacle rose out of the ocean.

As they scrambled for safety, the tentacles held firm to the bow and slowly dragged her under.
...
Within the command area, the sonar operator piped up.

“I’m picking up something unusual mam. It’s very faint.”

“Range?” Vanderhofen asked.

“About four miles off the port bow sir.”

“I think we had better take a look mam.”

“I agree with you. Best speed.”

As they approached, rising to periscope depth, the captain viewed a sea of debris.

“We arrived too late. Seems that the fisherman’s warning was true after all.”

“Any survivors?” Vanderhofen asked.

“None that I can see from here. Bring us to the surface and I’ll poke around.”

She scrambled up the ladder with the binoculars as her second in command followed. As she scanned the rolling ocean, Vanderhofen pointed.

“Over to the north mam.”

“What is it?”

She handed the field glasses over and waited.

“It looks like an octopus mam. A ruddy large one too.”

As he watched, he realised something.

“It’s heading straight for us.”

“Down you go and hit the collision alarm pronto.”

As she joined him, the klaxon sounded.

“This is the captain. Brace yourselves.”

Moments later the great vessel heeled over knocking crewmembers to the floor. Before they could stand, two bolts inside the berths area popped, sending water jets crashing against the near wall.

As tentacles gripped the stricken craft and began pulling it under, the intercom activated. As Captain Harris listened, she became grim.

“Get yourself to the cabins and check out the leek.”

As he dashed off a helmsman yelled, “Depth two hundred mam.”
...
Vanderhofen reached the cabins at the same time as Murray and the team of engineers. Water had risen to ankle level as they removed spanners from the toolbox.

“We have to stop this,” Vanderhofen said calmly.

“No worries sir. We can handle it.”

The spanners gripped the valve and after a few minutes of turning, the leak was stopped.

“What about the water?” Vanderhofen asked.

“We’ll bail it into the bilge tanks and expel it from there.”

Vanderhofen dashed back as the latest depth report came in.

“One K mam.”

“Much damage?”

“Just a pinprick that’s all. Any ideas?”

“Just one,” she muttered activating the com.

“Murray, I need you to rig the hull for live wiring.”

“What about the water mam?”

“We can deal with that later man.”

Murray returned to the reactor room and set about switching the load towards the hull. When he was ready, he reported in.

“Go ahead Murray,” Wilma replied.

As seconds passed, the immense voltage passed through the hull and the animal let them go. The helmsman shouted, “We are free mam.”

“That’s great. Now we need to load tube one.”

“Our weapons are not designed to hunt fish mam,” Vanderhofen reminded her.

“It’s a risk we have to take sir.”

Once the torpedo was loaded, she gave the order.

“Fish running hot and steady mam.”

They counted seconds, seconds into minutes but no crump came.

The sonar operator shook his head.

“The damn thing missed mam. Now changing course and acquiring new target.”

“You mean us?” Vanderhofen asked.

“It’s coming straight for us sir.”

“Deploy countermeasures, bow left thirty degrees.”

As three spinning boomerangs hurtled from the vessel, the sub moved in the opposite direction.

“It’s falling for the decoys,” sonar reported.

“Hang on!” the captain ordered.

A loud crump was quickly followed by the concussion wave. The sub was rocked heavily, and a torpedo crashed onto one of the loaders.
His chest was fatally crushed as the stabilisers compensated at last.

“I want damage reports right now,” Wilma ordered.

When these came in, she sighed.

“Losing just one man was lucky in my view.”

“What now captain?”

She glanced at the sonar operator.

“We are relying upon you mister.”

“Target has gone mam.”

“Damn this fishing trip.”

The boat moved on as the animal watched from a safe distance. As the stern went by, it moved behind to follow.

“Contact again mam.”

“Where?”

“Three points to our rear mam. The ruddy thing is tailing us.”

Vanderhofen tapped her shoulder.

“It thinks we are wounded.”

“We may be able to take advantage of that number two.”

She stood before the electronic map and pointed.

“That is the Guam canyon. Nice place for a visit I hear.”

“You have a plan?”

“We enter and fire a torpedo at the wall. As we make our escape that fish just might be buried.”

The second officer became suddenly uneasy.

“I need not remind you what our fate will be if this boat is trapped.”

“You should have more faith sir.”

She turned to the helm.

“Ahead south-east and dive to twenty K.”

After five minutes she asked, “Sonar. Are we still being followed?”

“Yes mam. The animal is keeping a healthy distance though.”

“Helm, how long to the canyon?”

“At our present rate of descent, six minutes mam.”

She brimmed with confidence.

“Steady as she goes.”

As the vessel entered the deep canyon the second officer said, “We have a crush depth remember.”

She nudged him in the ribs.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

She paused a moment.

“Load tubes one and two. Prepare to fire on my command.”

As the minutes ticked by the sonar operator barked a clear warning.

“Canyon wall dead ahead mam.”

“Fire one and two. Bow planes up fifty.”

As the weapons streaked toward the towering wall of rock, the bow rose rapidly.

A massive explosion tore the wall apart as the ship heeled under the hammer blows of the concussion wave.

When the ship had stabilised once more the sonar operator grinned.

“Contact lost mam. The bugger got crushed after all.”

Wilma took the com.

“All hands, damage reports on the double.”

As they rose rapidly, only cuts and bruises reached her ears.

“That was quite a gamble mam,” Vanderhofen said.

She smiled at him.

“Wasn’t it just...”

Captain Wilma Harris stood inside the splendid but colonial style Navy headquarters on Midway Island. Before her stood Admiral Kimmel, head of Pacific Command.

“Quite an impression you have made captain. One rogue North Korean sub accounted for and of course the Hogan incident.”

“Can you tell me sir how a man like that slipped through the security net?”

The admiral shrugged his shoulders.

“Sometimes they do captain. We have replaced him and of course informed his family.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That there was a tragic accident.”

“Sounds better I suppose.”

“The repairs are also complete by the way,” he added glancing at the paper.

He smiled and said, “I note your request for a female officer too.”

“I just need someone that I can relate to sir.”

He pressed a buzzer and a scarlet haired woman marched in.

“This is Sheila Davies captain. Our scientific advisor.”

As the woman saluted the captain asked, “What do you do around here?
Apart from make the tea.”

The woman smiled.

“She has a great idea captain,” the admiral said gently. “Your vessel is being fitted with degaussing.”

Wilma looked up in deep surprise.

“That was used in the last war sir to counter the magnetic mine.”

“I’ve given it a new lease of life,” Sheila said.

“Will you be so kind as to explain?”

“Once it is fitted, power from your reactor will be used to create an extremely strong magnetic field.”

The admiral smiled.

“For all intents and purposes your sub will become invisible to sonar.”

“That old chestnut again,” the captain quipped.

“This time it will work,” Sheila said calmly.

“We are so confident that USS Vancouver will take part in an exercise.”

He smiled.

“See how many of our ships you can sink.”

Wilma loved the idea but managed to suppress the giggle.

“It’s not every day that you get to send an admiral to the bottom sir.”

“We start at ten hours Zulu on the morrow then,” the admiral said. “I look forward to the cut and thrust.”

The hours passed quietly enough and one hour before the dark sub slipped out of Midway harbour.

“You are sure this will work?”

Sheila nodded.

“All my tests confirm it mam. The fleet won’t know what has hit it.”
Wilma turned to Vanderhofen.

“Take us down sir.”

“Aye mam. Bow planes to thirty. Dive, dive, dive.”

Upon the surface, Admiral Kimmel scanned the flight deck of the carrier George Washington.

“I think that we are all ready here. Begin the anti sub search.”

Some two hundred feet below and four nautical miles to the west, USS Vancouver slipped through the ocean silently.

“Turn the system on Murray.”

“Aye mam.”

As the power surged into the thick cable wrapped around the submarine the sonar operator smiled.

“Two targets mam. One is a destroyer and the second an aircraft carrier.”

Wilma smiled, glancing at her number two.

“Time to have some fun sir. Bring us to periscope depth.”

She glanced into the viewer and saw the targets moving line a breast in standard convoy mode. Wilma shook her head.

“That tactic went out with the dinosaurs. Arm tubes one through three.”

Within the torpedo room, the fish were quickly loaded and the tubes sealed.

Watching carefully Wilma smiled.

“Petty they are dummy warheads eh?”

Vanderhofen smiled.

“Fire tubes one through three.”

She saw the torpedo tracks hurtle towards their targets as a copter came into view.

“All hands crash dive!”

“Bow planes to forty,” Vanderhofen said.

As the pilots pushed the controls forward, the sub sank into the silent depths.

“Starboard ten degrees,” the captain called.

The great vessel swung as the speed increased.

“Three strikes,” Sonar reported.

As the crew cheered, Wilma called for quiet.

“That’s an admiral we need now. Think I’ll get the job number two?”

Vanderhofen nodded.

“After this performance mam you deserve it.”

A sudden shout from sonar silenced everyone.

“Contact bearing six degrees mam. It’s a destroyer. Triple screws.”

“Don’t worry captain,” Sheila muttered. “They can’t see us.”

“Dropping depth charges.”

“Dive another hundred,” Vanderhofen ordered.

Everyone heard three soft crumps and the gentle shake of the detonation.

“What the hell are they playing at?” the captain muttered. “Those were for real.”

“I’m picking up three more mam,” sonar reported.

“Starboard eighteen degrees!” she barked.

As the boat was rattled for a second time, the incensed captain banged the periscope.

“I don’t mind reality number two but I get annoyed when our own side tries to kill us!”

“Perhaps they don’t know the charges are for real,” Sheila suggested.

The officers glared at her.

“Of course they ruddy well know.”

“What do you want to do mam?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Bow planes up thirty degrees. Take us to periscope depth. Any sign of that destroyer?”

“No mam,” sonar reported. “There is a carrier close by though.”

“Probably the one we hit,” Wilma suggested.

As the periscope broke surface the captain peered cautiously into the viewer.

“I don’t recognise that configuration.”

“Mind if I take a look captain?” Sheila asked.

“Be my guest.”

As the woman peered, her face became deeply troubled.

“That’s the carrier Akagi mam. Circa World War Two.”

“You know what you are saying?” Vanderhofen asked.

“I certainly do sir.”

The captain grabbed her arm roughly.

“Tell us what is going on and this time no secrets.”

“It would appear that my dampening field had a rather unusual side effect mam.”

“What kind of side effect?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Somehow or other we have been teleported back through time.”

Wilma shook her head.

“That would certainly explain the depth charges. What can you do to help us?”

The woman scratched her head.

“I need the reactor taken off line mam.”

“That would leave us dead in the water,” Vanderhofen pointed out.

“We can still operate on emergency batteries number two.”

Wilma activated the com.

“Murray, take the reactor off line and activate the emergency stand by.”

She then glared at the scientific advisor before coming to a decision.

“We have a duty here. Don’t you agree number two?”

He nodded.

“Now hold on a moment,” Sheila said. “You can’t play around with
history.”

“Midway Island is being bombed to hell as we speak. They need all the help they can get.”

“That’s just great!” Sheila yelled. “What will you do captain? Nuke Tokyo?”

The captain was genuinely shocked.

“Certainly not, but we will sink that carrier. Now get to engineering and figure out how to get us home.”

As the woman stormed off, Wilma hit the intercom.

“Torpedo room. Load tubes one through four with live fish.”

She gazed at the bridge crew.

“Helmsman, two degrees to port. We are going in.”

The bow shifted as the unsuspecting carrier drew closer.

“Torpedo room ready mam,” Vanderhofen said quietly.

Wilma stared into the viewer.

“Right half a degree. Now steady...Fire one through four.”

As the weapons streaked toward the target she barked, “Crash dive!”

The bow planes tilted into position and the conning tower vanished beneath the boiling ocean. Moments later, the Akagi and its compliment of Zero fighters was engulfed in bright orange flame.

As it heeled over, a squadron of US fighter bombers came over the horizon.
...
Within the command area, a frantic call came from the forward torpedo room.

“Three of my men just vanished mam.”

“What do you mean by vanished?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Just that sir. They faded before my eyes.”

The second in command glanced at his captain, but saw her too fade from view.
...
Wilma found herself sitting behind a rather unfamiliar desk. As she glanced around the new surroundings she muttered, “Why am I inside the Oval Office?”

She glanced up as the door was rapped.

“Come in...”

“Sorry to disturb madam president but Admiral Roosevelt is here to see you.”

She gave him a rather blank look.

“Naval chief of staff?” the aid informed her.

“Send him in.”

She sat up and folded her arms across her bust.

“My life is getting really crazy,” she muttered.

As the uniformed officer walked in, she noted the large black leather briefcase.

“How can I help you admiral?”

He sat down and began to remove a file.

“As you know mam, Sheila Davies has been working on project X-Ray for five years now.”

“Has she indeed.”

“Yes mam. She now feels that a live test is necessary.”

“Do you mind if I read that?”

Wilma took the file and read slowly.

“I’m assuming you want the USS Vancouver to conduct this test of yours?”

“She is our latest model mam.”

“Who’s in command?”

The admiral gave her a strange look.

“Captain Vanderhofen mam. An extremely reliable officer.”

“Is he indeed.”

She handed the file back and stood. As she walked over to the window, dark clouds were interlaced with flashes of lightning.

“Terrible weather.”

“It’s been like this for three days now,” the admiral replied.

Wilma turned slowly.

“I know this is probably against procedure admiral but can I speak to Captain Vanderhofen?”

“You are the commander in chief mam. If you would like to follow me.”

“To the Pentagon?”

“Of course mam.”

As the armoured vehicle crossed the streets of Washington, Wilma looked at the bleak paths.

“What’s the state of the world like?”

“Well mam, the Chinese continue to strengthen their grip on south Asia.”

“We lost the Korean War?"

“Of course mam. Now the joint chiefs want your approval to invade Britain.”

She gave him a filthy look.

“What have they done to upset us?”

“As you obviously forgot mam their PM wants to join the Eastern Alliance. If we do nothing, an invasion force will sail for our east coast.”

“We certainly can’t have that,” she muttered.

“Here we are mam.”

She was shown into the central pod of the Pentagon, and stood looking at a huge electronic screen.

“You can speak to him here mam.”

She followed the admiral to a secure communications console.

As the link was set up, she smiled.

“Pretty smart place this.”

“It’s the best in the world mam. You can speak now.”

“Is that you captain?”

A familiar voice quickly answered.

“Yes madam president.”

She coughed nervously.

“On no account are you to visit Midway Island. I have a special job for you.”

As the shocked admiral looked on, she continued.

“Take the Virginia off to Guam for me.”

“Yes mam. It’s a pleasure mam.”

As the communication ended the shocked admiral asked, “What about the test?”

Wilma smiled.

“I want the funding cut and the notes shredded. That test is really far too dangerous for my liking.”

The shocked admiral was about to protest, when his timeline came to an abrupt end.
...
Wilma found herself back inside the command area, holding onto the communicator.

“So we are off to Guam mam?”

She put it back and gazed sleepily at Vanderhofen.

“Yes we are sir.”

“Why do you think the president ordered us there?”

Wilma shook her head and muttered, “Time will tell...”

Within the command centre, the number two, Vanderhofen, gazed at the electronic map and pointed.

“That’s the Devil’s Triangle mam. Surely we are not going there?”

Wilma smiled at him.

“Not scared of ghosts are we sir?”

“Just don’t want to vanish like all those ships.”

“How many subs do you know about vanished there?”

He thought hard.

“Four Japanese for a start during the war, and the USS Vanguard mam.”

She shook her head.

“We sank those subs and the Vanguard may have struck a mine.”

“Even the fishermen avoid that area.”

“I just want to take a look sir. Blow ballast tanks.”

She stepped onto the conning tower and gazed at the frothy seas.

“We can do twenty knots on the surface mam.”

“We need some fresh air I think.”

The intercom buzzed and she took the call.

“We have a flash message mam from Pacific Command.”

“It never rains number two. It only pours.”

Clambering down the ladder, the message was quickly handed to her.

“Not a very nice one either,” she commented.

“Take us to launch depth.”

This order would take the sub fifty feet below the surface in a bow
down configuration.

“Launch depth captain.”

As calm as a cucumber she activated the intercom.

“Action stations missile.”

Her second in command took his necklace off and stood by the launch
station. As she reached her own she said slowly, “Insert on three. One...Two...Insert.”

As the keys entered, she paused for breath.

“On my command turn to position one.”

“Aye mam.”

“Turn.”

As the keys turned, the green line of lights turned a brilliant red.

“Missiles armed,” a crewman called out.

“Now we follow protocol and wait five minutes.”

An eerie silence descended as the clock ticked toward doomsday.

Within sixty seconds to go the communications officer shouted, “Flash message from Pacific Command.”

“Just read it aloud,” the captain replied.

“Message to all SLBM’s. Drill, drill, drill.”

Everyone sighed loudly.

“Return key to failsafe.”

After turning them anti-clockwise, the keys were removed, and the necklaces returned to the now sweating necks.

“I sometimes wonder why they do that,” Vanderhofen commented.

“Perhaps checking that we are listening sir. Continue into the Devil’s Triangle. Ahead one third.”

“Aye mam.”

Sub Lieutenant Hogen sat at the food hall table in quite a lather.

“We had no right sinking that Korean sub. I reckon we have a nutter for a captain.”

Tilbert disagreed.

“It sank a Japanese tanker then fired at us. What else were we supposed to do?”

“It’s not right mate.”

As he stood aggressively Tilbert asked, “Where are you going?”

“Just off for a walk. Enjoy lunch won’t you?”

He marched across the floor heading back to his cabin. Once inside he removed a spare toolkit from his locker.

“I’ll ruddy well teach her.”

No one questioned him walking through the command area as engineers regularly did so on their inspections. When he reached the torpedo room, he smiled at the crew.

“Just have to check the nukes.”

“They are over there. Go right ahead.”

He knelt by the monsters and removed a screwdriver. As he began to open a panel a crewman asked, “You don’t usually do that.”

Hogen smiled.

“Some idiot set the primary system at launch depth. You know what that means.”

“They go off when we fire them. Anything we can do.”

Hogen stopped for a moment.

“You could get out of here and leave me in peace. After all, you really don’t want me to make a mistake.”

As they left the compartment, he locked the bulkhead tight.

“That was easier than I thought.”

He removed the plate and peered inside the hatch at the electronics.

“Now my dear. If I adjust that...”

Outside the closed hatch, the six crewmen were becoming uneasy.

“What’s he up to?”

“I don’t know.”

He banged the hatch hard.

“Let us back inside mate.”

When there was no response, they contacted the command centre.

“What do you mean a situation?” the second in command asked.

The captain glanced over.

“Something up?”

“Hogan has locked himself inside the torpedo room mam.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.”

She took the intercom.

“Did he say why he was there?”

“Yes mam. He wanted to check the nukes.”

Her face suddenly hardened. Switching channels she said, “Hogan! What are you up to?”

A tense moment passed before he bothered to reply.

“Just teaching you a lesson mam. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“What lesson?”

“You really should have left that sub alone.”

She cut him off and her agile mind whirred.

“He must be nuts. If he is fiddling with those nukes, he could blow us all to hell.”

“I can have a security team there in moment’s mam.”

“It would take you half an hour to cut through that hatch at least.
That’s far too long.”

She stared at the pilots hard.

“Surface.”

Then activating the com she said, “Engineer Murray to the com. Bring a toolkit with you.”

As the craft rose, the Scotsman walked into view.

“What’s up?”
“We have a serious problem in the torpedo room. I want you to
disengage the safety valves on tube one.”

He gave her an alarmed look.

“You intend to flood?”

“This boat is designed to float with the bow flooded and now it’s time to test it. How long will you be?”

“Once I get that panel open no more than five mins.”

“Then go ahead.”

“Surface mam.”

The engineer knelt by the console and opened the lower panel. When he found the safety valve, he turned the nut hard left.

“That’s it done.”

“Open tube one.”

As the outer door slid open, water rushed inside and struck the hatch door. After a few seconds, the door burst open. A jet of water shot inside and the astonished engineer attempted to reclose the hatch.

The incoming pressure was far too strong for that and quite soon, he was up to his waist. Hitting the intercom he screamed, “What the hell are you doing?”

The bridge crew remained silent as alarms rang unheeded.

“Hey, let me out of here.”

As the water reached his neck, he tried to open the bulkhead but automatic locks had now engaged. He took a last breath as the water surged over his head.

Within the command centre a crewman said,”Bow down five degrees mam.”
She watched the clock tick ten minutes before ordering the tube closed.

“Increase pressure and pump that water out. Vanderhofen, collect the body and take him to the medical centre.”

It took twenty minutes to pump the ocean out of the bulkhead and when the second in command entered, he found the torpedo room slightly damaged and covered in seaweed.

Glancing at the still body, he shook his head sadly.

“We have quite a mess here mam. Tube one is out of action.”

“Get a cleanup team in there sir. We’ll remain upon the surface for a bit.”

The submarine cut its way through the ocean, now well within the deadly triangle. As she watched the swell, something bothered her. Looking along the sleek surface, she noticed the bow going slowly under.

“What now?”

She slid down the ladder and closing the hatch barked, “Who gave the dive order?”

“No one mam.”

She glanced at the trim gauge and noted it set at twenty degrees.

“Bring the bow up.”

Moments passed but nothing happened.

“What’s the problem?”

“The bow planes are not responding mam.”

“Depth one hundred,” a seaman called out.”

“This is ruddy peculiar,” she muttered.

As the depth increased, the pilots called out.

“Depth two hundred mam.”

“Try to level off.”

The pilots did their best but it seemed hopeless.

She saw the trim gauge reach thirty percent when the second in command walked in.

“Anything that I can do?”

“We seem to be out of control Vanderhofen.”

“Depth five hundred.”

She thought for a moment.

“Increase to thirty knots and set bow planes to hard over.”

The officer became highly alarmed at this order.

“If the planes sheer mam we are well and truly had it.”

“Depth one k mam,” a pilot called out.

She took Vanderhofen aside.

“I’m trying to create a bow wave that hopefully will bring us back up.”

“She’s slowing mam.”

Captain Harris glanced at the trim gauge.

“Twenty degrees again.”

“Depth fifteen hundred mam.”

The gauge gradually became level and the plunge stabilised at
seventeen hundred.

“Best speed to Midway. We can have the repairs done there, as well
as off loading the body.”

“Aye mam. Midway it is.”

Captain Wilma Harris was your typical officer in the USN. A stickler for discipline, she had once marooned an errant seaman for pilfering. After forty-eight hours of course, he was picked up. A much wiser man.

Tall and forty-nine, she enjoyed a solitary single life without too many worries.

“Well there she is mam,” the sub lieutenant said. The USS Virginia. The latest ‘H’ class that we have.”

As they approached the black hulk of the sub, she gazed around at
Pearl Harbour with satisfaction.

“What’s her compliment?”

“Seventy mam. All blokes I’m afraid.”

“We shall have to do something about that.”

As she stepped upon the gangplank, seamen piped her aboard.

“Nice to have you mam. Second officer Vanderhofen.”

“Nice to be aboard.”

She led the way to the conning tower, as the plank was pulled inside and pressed the com.

“Take her to sea.”

The submarine slowly made her way out and into the open Pacific Ocean.

“What’s the mission mam?” Vanderhofen asked casually.

“Maritime patrol and deterrence. A pretty tough job out here.”

“I understand that our operational area has been increased.”

The captain nodded.

“It extends from the west coast of Africa to Pearl. Enough water to keep us quite happy.”

He smiled as the bow ploughed through the slightly choppy sea. She gazed around at the dark ocean and punched the com.

“Prepare to dive.”

She clambered down the ladder and into the command area as Vanderhofen sealed the hatch.

“Bow planes to twenty per cent.”

“Aye mam.”

As the planes automatically adjusted, the bow went under, quickly followed by the conning tower.

“Periscope depth mam.”

She smiled and turning to her second officer said, “Let’s see just
how deep we can go eh?”

“Choose your depth mam.”

“Twenty-five k.”

The officer gave the command and the great sub dived into the cold and hostile depths.

“Remember to level off,” she ordered before winking at Vanderhofen.

“Now sir, I need the grand tour. Shall we start at the bow?”

“Of course. After you mam.”

As they entered the torpedo room, she gazed at the long metallic tubes with some distaste.

“We carry conventional and nuclear warheads mam. We have four tubes as you can see.”

“I’ve never fired one before and I hope we never have to.”

"Shall we go aft mam?”

After wandering back through the command area, they entered the food hall and the medical area before reaching the missile room.

Her blood ran cold as she gazed at the innocent launch tubes.

“Eight birds I see.”

“Yes mam. Each with four one megaton warheads.”

“Thirty-two in all,” she muttered.

“They would make one hell of a bang mam.”

“Let’s look at the reactor room,” she suggested.

When they entered, the engineers stood at attention.

“At ease. Any problems so far?”

“No mam. I would be terribly surprised if we had. She’s purring quite nicely. A hell of a change from the old diesel design.”

“What do I call you?”

“Murray mam.”

“A Scotsman?”

“My family hailed from Inverness actually. I’m just one in a long line of engineers.”

She nodded and smiled.

“We had better return to the com Vanderhofen. The crew might think that we have eloped.”

“Chance would be a fine thing.”

Returning to the command area an officer said, “Twenty-five k mam.”

“What’s our crush depth?”

“Twenty-eight k mam.”

“That is a comfort then. Raise bow planes by ten percent and bring us to periscope depth.”

The hull rose quite gently as the ship gained height rapidly. As the depth was reached, she gazed into the viewer.

“Seems quiet out there. No ships anywhere.”

“Just the way we like it mam,” the second in command replied.

“Take us down to a hundred feet and we will test the sonar.”

They sank once more and the operator watched his scope intently.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Only marine life mam. Nothing to report as yet.”

“Vanderhofen, come with me.”

She led him into her quarters and took a key from her top pocket. After opening the safe, she handed him a small key upon a ribbon.

“Put it around your neck eh?”

She then pulled out an envelope and ripped it open.

“Orders mam?”

“Certainly are.”

She read the paper and sighed.

“We are to head for the Marshall Islands at best speed.”

“That would be thirty knots mam.”

“Let’s do it then. The grindstone begins here.”

The oil tanker Naguma was outward bound from Tokyo Bay, laden with vital supplies for the far-flung American base. As it ploughed through the dark ocean, its captain was quite unconcerned.

“How’s the weather forecast?”

His bridge officer checked the scope carefully.

“A small storm to the north sir but we won’t even touch that.”

“That’s nice to hear. Some of these cyclones can be quite nasty.”

“I’m sure that we won’t meet one sir.”

“I hope not. This tub could break its back if we did.”

As they steamed on, a dark shape closely followed.

“It’s a tanker sir. Japanese by the looks of it.”

The North Korean captain smiled.

“Our great leader should be proud that his latest sub managed to penetrate this far.”

“Shall we engage sir?”

The captain thought this over carefully.

“The western oil embargo is certainly hurting number two and I’m sure the Japanese can afford to lose at least one. It’s imperative though, that it looks like an accident.”

The officer nodded.

“Ten degrees to port. Open tube one.”

As the attack sub took up position, the captain checked the periscope again.

“He’s cutting across our path. Fire one.”

The whoosh was clearly heard as the torpedo left the ship. As it streaked toward the unsuspecting tanker, the seconds ticked away.

On the bridge, the captain was just sipping his small cup of tea as the warhead detonated amidships. The huge ball of orange flame shot skyward as the great ship heaved.

“What the hell!”

He turned and saw explosions ripping the deck apart as the holds went off like bombs.

“Abandon ship!”

Before the survivors could move however, the ship was torn asunder by the blasts as the very ocean caught light.
...
Aboard the Vancouver, everything seemed peaceful until the sonar operator suddenly pulled his headphones off.

“That was ruddy close!”

“What is it sailor?” the captain asked.

“Sounded like an explosion to me mam. Hold on I’ll check.”

He studied the scope and listened intently.

“I can hear bulkheads going mam. Whatever it is, the ship is pretty large.”

Captain Harris glanced at Vanderhofen.

“Periscope depth now!”

“Aye mam.”

As she peered into the viewer, a truly horrible scene came into sight. The tanker was gone and only a sea of fire remained.

“It must have been an oil tanker. Some kind of accident perhaps.”

She stepped away as Vanderhofen asked, “Any survivors?”

“None.”

“This can’t be right,” the sonar operator said.

“What can you hear?”

“Faint diesel engines mam. Approximately one mile north.”

“Depth?” Vanderhofen asked.

“One hundred feet sir.”

“What countries still run diesel subs?” she asked.

Her second in command mulled it over.

“Only the South Africans and North Korea mam.”

“Match their heading and depth.”

“Aye mam.”

The sub changed course and followed the curious echo.

“Ping her.”

The second in command was rather puzzled by the order.

“Won’t that alert them?”

“I want to check they are not the South African’s sir.”

As the ping test was conducted, the sonar operator listened carefully.

“They are not replying mam.”

“Take us to one fifty.”

As the sub went deeper, the sonar operator suddenly yelled.

“They are changing course too hard about.”

“They can’t be stupid enough to attack us surely?” Vanderhofen asked as she contemplated the next move.

“They are opening tubes mam!” sonar reported.

“Dive to two hundred and lock bulkheads. Battle stations!”

As the crew responded to the klaxon, each watertight compartment was manually sealed off.

“We have two fish hot and running,” sonar reported.

“Hard a port and bow planes to fifty.”

The sub dived in desperation as the lethal torpedoes headed their way. At the last second, the stern screws cleared and everyone heard the whoosh of the near miss.

“Two can play at that game,” Captain Harris hissed. “Bring us about and go to one ten.”

The sub swung and headed upwards, finally levelling off ten feet lower than the enemy.

“What’s the range?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Two hundred yards sir.”

“We have them captain.”

“Raise to one hundred, and arm tubes one through four.”

Within the torpedo room, the crew slid the weapons into place and screwed the hatch tight.

“Tubes armed mam.”

As she gazed around the control room, the order was given.
The four torpedoes streaked out and headed for their target.

“Crash dive!”

The sub’s hull swung down as they tried to escape the blast and pressure wave. There was a loud roar and sonar reported, “Target breaking up mam.”

Seconds later the ship rolled to port before stabilisers corrected her.

“Surface now,” she demanded.

As the interior lights turned red to protect their eyes, the ship rose rapidly until the bow broke surface. Moments later the proud captain stood upon the conning tower.

“There won’t be survivors mam,” her second in command said.

“I’m just taking a look.”

About two miles off to landward, the burning ocean could still be seen as she spotted debris surfacing from the smashed submarine.

“Why the hell did they do it?” she asked. “Has the so-called great leader lost a bolt or two?”

“We have to report this mam. Korean command needs to know.”

“That could start a ruddy war number two. I’ll note this in my log and inform Pearl later.”

“You think that this was simply a one off then?”

She nodded calmly.

The cruise missile type craft swung over the still burning swamp, and hurtled at low altitude over the settlement before swinging around and streaking towards the ancient crater.

The nose cone was packed with sensitive equipment that recorded data, and transmitted it back to the home planet. As it flashed over that crater, signals were easily detected.

The monitor had received the puzzling report and decided to call in Councillor Grant. When the diminutive figure entered, he was scowling.

“What is it now?”

The monitor saluted and handed over the latest intelligence.

“It would appear sir that the planet is not uninhabited after all.”

The councillor gazed at the data in disbelief.

“There is an indigenous populace I see. As for the photos well, they seem to show that the settlers are doing very nicely.”

The monitor hesitated a moment.

“The probe picked up a signal sir.”

The councillor glanced at him.

“That is not possible. There is no advanced technology on that world. Previous flyovers confirmed it.”

The monitor pointed to the spike.

“This flyover detected that sir.”

The monitor gazed at the spike and thought things over.

“Have the probe concentrate upon that area. I will arrange a standby option.”

“Yes sir.”

He stopped a moment and asked, “Any sign of their great ship?”

The monitor shook his head.

“The probe picked up miniscule debris that is still in orbit.”

“So the ship was destroyed then. I wonder how many survived.”

As the councillor departed, upon that world Terrance was being rapidly choked.

“You will surrender,” the machine demanded in an electronic voice.

“Go to hell,” the leader croaked.

He tried to kick the metallic humanoid without much effect, and at last, it released him.

Gasping desperately, he ignored the marching monsters as they collected their laser rifles.

“I must check my men.”

“Do so.”

Terrance collected his breath at last and checked out John. After a gentle shake, he opened his eyes and groaned.

“My knuckles are bust.”

“At least you are alive mate.”

Terrance turned and saw Terry sitting up and holding his head.

“You okay mate?”

“Apart from a splitting headache yes.”

Terrance ran to Walker who was resting against the wall.

“Come on wake up,” Terrance muttered.

After a moment, the comrade came to and groaned.

“We are still alive then?”

“I should hope so. I need to see Larry though.”

As he stood, a machine entered the armoury carrying a limp body. As
this was dropped upon the metallic floor, Terrance winced. When he reached him, he saw the twisted neck quite clearly. He swung around and yelled, “You ruddy well killed him!”

“He was trying to resist,” the machine said.

Terrance strode up to it and hissed, “What the hell are you lot doing here anyway?”

“We are survivors of a great war. This planet was suitable for our purposes.”

“I saw images of that war. Who were you fighting?”

“We were created as warriors. When it was believed we were not
required they attempted to deactivate us.”

“So you turned on them.”

“They gave us no choice.”

A second machine entered and said, “The console is damaged but can be easily repaired.”

The three companions now hobbled up.

“How come you woke up then?” Walker asked.

“The system has a backup. When the power was cut, fifty of us were reactivated.”

Terrance glanced at the unhappy man.

“It’s not your fault mate. It was a pretty good idea.”

He paused for a moment.

“Now that you have woken up, what are your intentions?”

The metallic humanoid gazed at him with indifference.

“We will rise from here and spread out across this planet and the galaxy. Your presence needs explaining.”

Terrance thought quickly.

“We eh, crash landed here. Only we four survived the impact.”

“That is regrettable. Nonetheless it will have to do.”

“What do you mean by that?" Terry asked.

“You will join us.”

“No we won’t,” Terrance said sharply.

The machine looked at him.

“You have no choice. Debate is quite useless. Take them for conversion now.”

They were grabbed quite roughly and manhandled through the open arch, and into the conversion chamber.

“Why didn’t their weapons work?” John asked.

“Because we are flesh and blood,” Walker said quietly.

As they gazed upon the single humanoid space once more, John was frog marched into it. After being secured, a machine stood at the console and threw a number of switches.

“You cannot do this thing,” Terrance pleaded.

“We need more of our kind. The process is quite painless.”

“Go to hell!” Walker yelled.

They saw John’s eyes close as the wires lit up. After a few moments,
his lifeless body was carried out. Another machine entered and placed one of the empty suits within the space.

The machine flicked the switches and the wires hummed again.

“It must be some kind of advanced extraction process,” Terrance said. “The very consciousness of the victim is removed and placed inside that thing.”

The whirring stopped and the machine stepped from its place.

“John?” Terry asked. “Come on mate, you know us eh?”

The machine simply stared and said in that electronic voice, “I am John.”

They watched it march toward the armoury, as Terry was pushed inside the space.

“You are killing us!” Terrance screamed.

The emotionless machine replied, “You will gain true immortality.”

They watched helplessly as Terry was converted, before being carried off.

When his new metallic body stepped forth it said, “Together we shall conquer the galaxy.”

“Over my dead body mate!” Walker hissed.

He struggled violently, as he too was shoved into the machine and secured.

“I’ll give you anything,” Terrance pleaded. “Just spare him.”

“Your request has been noted and rejected. Continue.”

He struggled violently but to no avail. He was forced to watch as his friend ceased to be, and his body simply carried off like trash. As another empty shell was placed within that evil space, the wires whirred again.

“We will stop you lot,” Terrance said. “Just you wait!”

As the machine stepped out it strangely saluted.

“You have nothing to fear. Accept and obey.”

As it marched off, it was the turn of Terrance.

When he was secured, he closed his eyes and began to silently repeat a simple mantra.

“I am me, I am me, I am me.”

He heard the wires hum loudly and a very strange falling sensation before unconsciousness intervened. When he became aware, he found himself locked inside the humanoid machine.

He stepped out and heard himself say, “Our purpose is to defend and conquer.”

At that moment, a humanoid marched up to the leader and said, “We are being probed.”

As they left together, Terrance shuffled up to what had been Walker.

“Did you do what I did?”

The machine nodded.

“This conversion has its drawbacks. What about this probe?”

“I have no idea. We certainly didn’t launch it.”

“We should have a look.”

“Follow me,” Terrance said in that strange metallic tone.

They quickly reached the access tunnel, and joined their metallic comrades outside.

“There is Terry.” Terrance pointed out.

“I think he has gone sir. Look up there.”

He looked and saw the cruise missile flying in a circle quite close by.

“Obviously an alien device of some kind,” Terrance said.

“Probably wondering what all the fuss is about,” Walker said.

“Destroy it,” the leader commanded.

They watched as a laser rifle was raised, and an intense beam struck the craft’s wing. As it snapped off in the blast, it spiralled into the ground and exploded.

“I hope whoever sent it gets quite annoyed,” Terrance said.

The leader turned and noted the lack of weaponry.

“Return to the armoury and avail yourselves.”

They turned and marched off as the leader headed for the damaged
power console.

“Report.”

“Repairs are ongoing. Within the hour they will be complete.”

“We may have to activate our army. A new threat has emerged.”

The machine nodded its response as the two mechanical friends collected the weapons and mulled things over.

“I suppose these ruddy things will work now,” Walker said.

“Of course they will. We dare not use them yet though. That probe may have placed our people in extreme danger. We will get an opportunity later.”

They marched out fully armed as the repair got well ahead.
...
“Councillor, our probe was destroyed.”

“I am aboard the strike craft. Send me the data monitor.”

“Yes sir. Data transmission underway.”

The councillor read it upon the bridge with some alarm.

“It appears that droids exist on that planet. Those settlers could never deal with them.”

“Any orders sir?”

The councillor turned to the bridge crew.

“Set course for the next planet at once. Bring the defence teams to combat readiness.”

“Aye sir.”

As the great craft moved out of orbit, the councillor was a worried man.

“If I had known about this, their generation star ship would never have been damaged. They are now my responsibility.”
...
The hour had passed and the power console was now up and running. As the two former humans watched, the power levels were raised sharply as the full activation got under way.

“Seems as though they are going somewhere.”

“Yes Walker. With this army nothing can stand in their way.”

“What shall we do sir?”

“Act as they do until I give the signal.”

The leader entered moments later from the great chamber.

“Join your comrades outside. We are ready to march.”

The machines saluted and headed for the access tunnel. As they stepped outside, they noted no more than six metallic individuals waiting for them.

“I think now is the time,” Terrance suggested. “Are you ready?”

“Let’s just get on with it.”

They lowered their weapons and pulled the trigger. The laser rifles barked, and the six machines were rapidly reduced to mere scrap.

“Now the tunnel,” Terrance said as they swung around.

As their beams struck, the entrance exploded and heavy rubble crashed down from above.

“That should hold them for a while,” Walker said.

“I doubt that mate. We have only bought some time.”

“Back to the settlement then?”

“Where else? I just hope our people believe who we are.”

The marched off rapidly toward the desert region as the trapped machines began digging their way out.

The sand proved a little less troublesome than previously. Despite sinking up to their waists, their mechanical legs pushed them through quite nicely.

As they approached from the west, one of the sentries spotted them from one of the four towers.

“Now comes a real problem,” Walker said.

“A shot rang out from a well aimed sonic blaster but there was naturally no effect.”

“Just keep going,” Terrance said.

“What if they come after us with pickaxes?”

“We fire warning shots mate.”

A crowd suddenly appeared and the machines stopped. The old chief and his armed braves ran to back the settlers up.

“What do you want?” Dudley demanded.

Terrance stepped forward confidently.

“I hope you are looking after Connor for me mate.”

The stunned man could hardly believe his ears.

“I put you in charge remember? So take charge now. We have to work together before a ruddy army arrives.”

“Terrance?”

“Of course it is me. Sorry for the body change, but they were a little insistent.”

From the crowd a woman ran forward.

“Trudy don’t!” Dudley shouted.

She ignored him and embraced the machine.

“At least you are back I suppose. Who’s this though?”

“Walker of course.”

“A lot ruddy healthier too,” Walker added.

As Trudy smiled, she turned toward the crowd.

“It’s my husband all right.”

Dudley came forward at last.

“Sorry boss. Just took me by surprise.”

“Don’t worry mate. We need to report in.”

They marched into the compound and headed straight for the communal fire.

“What happened?” Dudley asked.

“We tried to cut their alarm clock but it failed. Now they are reviving a thousand machines.”

“We’ll have to move then,” Trudy said.

“We stay,” Terrance said. “They are temporarily stuck. We gave them
a little going away present.”

“You can’t mean for us to fight them mate,” Dudley protested. “Not if blasters won’t stop them.”

“If we do run,” Walker said. “It means losing everything you know.”

Terrance turned to the old chief. With hand signals his electronic voice asked, “You want to fight?”

“Hotep khan salani hey!”

“I think that was yes,” Trudy said.

Dudley shook his head.

“Then someone had better come up with a workable plan right now.”

Terrance turned to Walker.

“You used to work in engineering mate. We need your input.”

“I was just thinking. The empty pet pod has its own internal power
grid to keep the cats happy.”

“What about it?” Dudley asked.

“If we can strip the cables from the evac craft, we could connect them up and create one hell of an electro-magnetic field.”

“Sounds good to me,” Terrance said.

“We need the computers to teach our people,” Trudy reminded them.

“If we don’t do this,” Terrance said. “There will be no people. Just machines my dear.”

“There is one other problem sir. We need a machine to test it on.”

“You will use me then. I’m supposed to be the leader around here.”

“You could be killed,” Trudy protested.

Her partner pointed to his metallic body.

“Technically I’m already dead love. We do it.”

As one team removed the wiring looms from the now useless craft, Walker led the second to the huge pet pod that sat upon the grassy plain.

“This is the place,” he said removing the panel.

Behind the wall lay flashing lights and a link up point.

“We simply connect the wire to here and run a cable across the plain.”

“Will we have enough?” Dudley asked.

“From the evac craft? We’ll have plenty to spare man.”

Walker switched the power off and waited.

The wiring looms were soon removed, and the last of the computers died as the power ceased for good. After being carried to the pet pod the engineer hooked them together before linking them to the main power unit.

Then they were unrolled across the plain about fifty feet from the west wall of the stockade.

“Ready for a test?” Terrance asked.

“If you are?”

Terrance nodded, and stood as close to the cable as possible. When the power was restored, he felt a strange tingling but nothing else.

“Damn it!”

He was about to march off, when he discovered that he could not move.

“We did it. I’m immobile.”

“Now we only have to wait,” Trudy said happily, as the power was cut.

As night started to approach, the settlers waited for the inevitable battle.

“We should send the women to safety you know,” Dudley suggested.

“Some of them are in no fit state to move,” Trudy warned. “We can’t risk miscarriages.”

“I agree,” Terrance said. “They have to stay with us.”

A sudden shout from the west towers brought them running.

“What do you see?” Dudley shouted.

“A whole landscape of machines.”

“Everyone to their posts,” Terrance ordered. “Get a runner to activate the cable.”

As Sammy dashed off, the defenders manned the walls. Terrance and Walker levelled their laser rifles and waited.

“I hope he pulls the right switch,” Walker said. “Otherwise we have had it.”

“He’ll be okay,” Terrance replied.

As the mechanical army came on, Terrance aimed and fired. A couple of machines exploded and fell as Walker joined in.

“That should stop and make them think,” Walker said.

He could not have been more wrong though.

A sudden volley of concentrated fire tore the entire west wall
apart. As machines and bodies fell, the tower smashed to the ground.

The army marched on as Walker and Terrance scrambled to their feet undamaged.

“That’s torn it,” Walker said.

“Just fire would you.”

As the settlers joined them, the machines opened up taking many of the army down. As they closed in Terrance said, “Everyone to the gate wall.”

The people ran as the machines reached the critical line. Walker saw the front row suddenly stop.

“They are damn well immobilised.”

“Now we get them mate. Come on now.”

The settlers and their warrior allies rampaged as one body, and spent a happy time smashing the machines into useless hunks of metal. As it was coming to an end, a strange craft swung into view.

“Now we got real problems,” Trudy said pointing.

The strike craft landed a hundred yards from the Indian encampment and the settlers watched as heavily armed troops dashed out.
As Terrance moved forward, Dudley stopped him.

“Let me handle this.”

“Be my guest.”

As he dashed to meet them, a small figure walked over.

“Councillor Grant at your service.”

Dudley shook his hand.

“We are here to help in any way we can. Our probe detected the droids.”

Dudley smiled.

“Rather too late mate. We dealt with them quite well on our own.”

“What about their base?” the councillor asked.

Dudley thought it over.

“If you could destroy it for us we would be terribly grateful.”

“Consider it done. I will issue the orders, and then perhaps we can talk about interplanetary trade?”

Two small craft rose from the main ship soon after and as they approached the ancient crater, unleashed a series of deadly energy bolts. The crater wall exploded and the floor erupted in a shower of gravel and twisted metal.

The machines were at last no more.

The sun had set at last, and the welcomed visitors had finally headed home to their own planet. Sitting within their home, Terrance watched his newborn son.

“I hope that Connor accepts me like this.”

Trudy smiled.

“Of course he will. After all, you are still the same man underneath all that metal.”

“It’s strange though not being able to smile or shout my dear.”
“Think on the positive side. No need for food, and no loo to worry about. You and Walker really will live forever.”

“Since you put it that way...”

“How did Dudley do?”

Terrance thought for a moment.

“The trade deal was signed. In exchange for our crystals and clothes and jewellery from the warriors, they will give us modern farming implements.”

“Oh I see.”

“Why say it like that?”

“I remember when you said that we are only custodians.”

“So we are.”

When she fell silent, the penny dropped.

“Don’t worry my darling. We will never trash this planet. I’ll put that in the constitution.”

Trudy raised her eyebrows.

“We haven’t got one.”

Terrance took her hand gently.

“We start writing it as soon as the west wall and tower are repaired.”

“How many men did we lose today? She asked.

“Another twenty but it could have been far worse,” he reminded her. “At the end of the day, we have more kids on the way and if the old chief has his way, many more after that.”

“What are you driving at?” she asked.

“Our future is at last secured my darling. After nine months of ruddy hard work, our people have guaranteed future generations. The human race has indeed survived.”

From his small bed, baby Connor gurgled with delight.

“I’m glad that you agree son,” Terrance said.

We call this home.

The End...

After nine months, the birth had been an easy one. As the sun began to set upon that happy day, the two lovers lay upon the camp bed enjoying each other’s company.

“After this you know,” Terrance said. “Don’t be too surprised if we are still here in a hundred years.”

“At least our descendents will be my love.”

Lying upon its small newly made box bed, the newborn giggled with happiness.

The sun had just climbed into view when the door rapped hard. The leader answered and saw Larry smiling at him.

“Morning boss.”

Rubbing the dust from his eyes Terrance asked, “Are they back?”

“They sure are. You can see them at my place.”

The happy poet walked off and Terrance returned to his partner.

“The survey team are back. I have to see them.”

“Go on then. I’ll be waiting.”

He walked across the ground, gazing around at the stockade with a proud smile upon his cheeks. After all, he had moulded these people into what they now were.

Entering Larry’s s simple log cabin he found the three map makers pouring over the drawings.

“I take it you found the damn place?”

“We certainly did,” John said.

As the leader sat he said, “You better fill me in then.”

Dudley pointed to the rough map.

“This is where we are. Roughly five miles west lies a small desert region and just beyond that the remains of an ancient meteor strike.”

“You mean a crater?”

“Exactly. We found an access tunnel built into the side wall that slants downward.”

“What does it lead to?”

“A large base mate. We found it at the bottom of the tunnel. We returned here as instructed.”

“Any sign of the machines?”

Dudley shook his head.

“As dead as a grave. No whirrs. No clicks. Nothing at all. Apparently they are still fast asleep.”

Terrance smiled.

“Our job is to make sure they stay that way then.”

“How many will you take?” Larry asked.

“I have been thinking about that,” the leader said. “None of the braves need go. Arrows will be of no use if they wake up. So, including myself, five will take the risk.”

He gazed at the team and named his four men.

“Larry, John, Terry, and Walker will go with me.”

“Why not me?” Dudley asked with some surprise.”

Terrance tapped his shoulder lightly.

“If anything happens to me I want you to take charge, and look after Trudy and my son.”

Dudley nodded.

“Consider it done.”

Terrance gazed over his small team.

“We’ll need a firelighter too by the way.”

Larry smiled and collected it from the corner. Terrance took it and placed the device inside his rear pocket.

“I’ll just say farewell to my partner and then we are off.”

As he stepped through the door, his wife was breastfeeding the child.

“I have to go now love. This cannot wait any longer.”

“I understand. Just bring yourself back.”

He smiled.

“I’ll certainly try. Love you.”

She glanced up smiling.

“Love you to. I was thinking of a name for him.”

“What have you come up with?”

“How about Connor?”

Terrance smiled.

“That is a really lovely name. See you later Connor.”

He turned and walked towards the open gate, and his small force.
Dudley shook his hand.

“If you don’t come back I’ll kill you.”

Terrance laughed at the strained joke.

“Just make sure that you are the leader I think you are.”

Dudley nodded slowly, and watched as they marched through the open gate.

The march west was fairly easy going, until they reached the desert region. As they began to cross, each man sank up to their waist in the soft sand.

“This is the bit I hated,“ Larry admitted.

“I’m really not surprised mate.”

They waded on, finding some hard ground at last to walk upon.
Overhead the brilliant yellow sun shone through a cloudless sky.

“We reckon it reaches over a hundred degrees here,” Walker commented.

“That’s a killer temperature,” Terrance said as they passed some
hardy plant life.

The ground began to gently rise as the desert started to fade into nothing. As they reached a plateau, the meteor crater came into clear view.

“It must have been pretty massive,” Terry said.

“Just look at the scorched earth,” John pointed out.

“We haven’t come on a sightseeing trip you know,” Terrance said smartly. “We have to move on.”

They crossed the lifeless ground and approached the high wall of the immense crater. As they did so, Terry pointed out the access tunnel.

“It starts here boss.”

“Okay this is what we do then. Once inside we find the power source and put it out of action. That way these blighters should sleep for all eternity.”

“You mean to cut their alarm?” Larry asked.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Terry said.

“Me too,” Walker added.

Terrance gazed at the dark entrance with a deepening sense of despair.

“Let’s do it then.”

As they entered, one thing became noticeable at once. The exterior view had simply been a cruel trick. The metallic walls and overhead ceiling fairly glistened with a soft, greenish glow. As it sloped downwards, the glow from the interior became brighter still.

“I wonder what causes that?” Larry asked.

“Some kind of phosphorescence perhaps?” Walker suggested.

The short tunnel came to an end, and they stepped into a truly vast chamber.

“Oh my,” Terrance muttered under his breath.

The entire chamber was lined with a dull, but soundless metal. Each wall had a platform with stairs leading toward the open floor. Just above those platforms, seemingly part of the huge walls, lay the metallic tubes.

Terry gazed in absolute horror at the mechanical vision.

“There must be a thousand in here.”

“Don’t just gawp,” Terrance hissed. “There is an arch over there. Follow me.”

As they walked across that silent and menacing floor, a thought came to John.

“Why no doors?”

“Perhaps they don’t need them,” Larry suggested.

When they reached the archway, they found a second but smaller chamber just beyond. It was smaller than the first and a console stood against the metallic wall. Above this, a vast but dark screen dominated the wall. To the left of this, vast pipes led toward a huge tower.

“My oh my,” Walker muttered. “This must be the power room.”

He wandered over to the vast tower and gently touched it.

“It’s dead alright. No vibration sir.”

“What kind of power are they using?” Terrance asked.

Walker shrugged his shoulders.

“Beats me sir.”

“We better see what else is down here,” Terrance suggested heading for the next arch.

Within the third chamber, they found a small humanoid space built into the wall with wires poking out of it.

Terrance simply gawped until Walker tapped him.

“I think this is some kind of creation area sir.”

“Where they make them?” Larry asked.

“Seems like it to me,” Walker replied.

“I can see this being our fate if we don’t stop them,” Terrance muttered. “Let’s push on.”

They walked through the next arch and found themselves gazing into an armoury. Everywhere they looked, walls were stacked with laser rifles.

“This is the last thing we needed to see,” Terrance muttered. “After we deal with them, these could come in quite handy.”

“What’s through there do you think sir?” Larry asked pointing.

“Shall we take a look?”

Beyond the final arch, they found a storage area cluttered with spare parts. Walker walked up and tapped one of the humanoid machines.

“Damn thing is empty sir. I think this explains that other area.
These are placed within that space and somehow activated.”

“That means reinforcements,” Terrance said. “I think we have seen quite enough now. The base appears to end here anyway.”

“Back to the power room sir?” Larry asked.

“Why not? We have a duty to protect our people.”

They made their way back quickly and stood in front of the alien
console. Rubbing his head Terrance asked, “Now how do we do this? Any suggestions?”

“We daren’t touch the console,” Terry said. “We might wake them up.”

“I have an idea sir.”

“Out with it Walker.”

He pointed to the front of the console.

“As you can see sir, these are designed to be slid open for easy access.”

“You mean tear out the wiring?”

“Yes sir. That must kill the power. I think the console is the heart of the system.”

Terrance smiled and slapped his back.

“Well done man.”

Everyone stepped back as Walker slid the lower panel doors open.
They gazed at the wiring in satisfaction.

“Most of that may be live,” John warned. “Just don’t electrocute yourself.”

“I know what I’m doing mate,” Walker replied. “I used to work in engineering.”

He looked at the wiring and grinned.

“This is going to be easy man.”

He carefully gripped a handful and after a very deep breath pulled hard.

He fell back as flashes of power ripped across the system and some of the wiring melted.

“That looks highly promising,” Terrance muttered as Walker picked himself up again.

“A little knowledge sir can be a highly dangerous thing.”

As they congratulated themselves, a sudden noise from the adjacent chamber caught their attention.

“What the hell was that?” Larry asked.

“Let’s go and check,” Terrance suggested.

As they reached the first chamber, a terrifying vista presented itself.

The humanoid machines were clambering from their tubes and marching toward the metal stairways.

“I don’t understand,” Walker muttered in horror.

“We can’t get out!” Larry yelled as the machines reached the metallic floor.

Humanoid in shape they were, with antenna where the ears used to be. Exactly as the viewer had depicted. Only the laser rifles were missing.

“Fall back now!” Terrance hissed.

As they dashed into the power room, one of the machines grabbed Larry and slung him violently across the floor. Turning quickly, his brave comrades pulled their sonic blasters and fired.

They were more than shocked when the machines did not flinch.

“Ruddy pea shooters,” Terry mumbled.

“Come on,” Terrance shouted and headed straight for the armoury and the rifles. As they careered inside, he grabbed the first.

“This should cut the odds down a bit.”

His three remaining comrades did likewise, as the humanoids marched inside.

“Fire at will!” Terrance screamed.

As they pressed the triggers, nothing happened.

“Damn it!” Terry shouted.

He dashed forward but was swiftly smashed down. Walker strode forward, smashing the useless weapon against the head section, but it simply brushed it off. The machine grabbed him and tossed him against the wall.

As he slid down unconscious, John threw a desperate punch and screamed in agony as his knuckles cracked. A machine struck and the writhing man crashed to the floor.

Terrance backed against the wall and dropped the weapon.

A metal hand gripped his throat and lifted him bodily off the ground.

“You will surrender,” the machine demanded.

To be continued...

Terrance and Trudy sat at home with Dudley as she groaned about her aching back.

“What do you expect after seven months darling?”

“Perhaps falling pregnant wasn’t such a good idea,” Dudley suggested.

“If only our people could make some beds,” she complained.

“They keep trying without much success dear,” Terrance reminded her. “The camping gear does the job.”

“Not if you look like a beached whale!”

The two men grinned as she winced again.

“Why not take that stodge for the pain?” Dudley suggested.

“I don’t want to risk the baby. I’ve given the same instructions to the other future mothers.”

“How many do we have now?” Terrance asked.

“Fifteen my dear. Our small community will soon be echoing with crying.”

“What a lovely thought,” Dudley commented.

Terrance picked up the strange viewing device.

“What did you make of them mate?”

“They are obviously hostile with those laser rifles. The longer that they remain asleep the better.”

“I tend to agree. What worries me is the chief.”

“Why?” Trudy asked.

“His warriors must have found this within some kind of base. If they poke around too much they might just wake them up.”

“With their firepower,” Dudley added. “We might not be able to take them on.”

“Oh I see,” she said groaning once more.

The door was suddenly rapped and Terry entered.

“Sorry to disturb sir but the chief looks pretty worried.

“I better see what the matter is.”

He found the old warrior waiting and he began gesticulating wildly.

“Hotep bernof ghan se latch.

“I think he has lost someone sir.”

Terrance nodded hopefully.

“Where?”

The old chief pointed south.

“Inform the archers that we move in five.”

He stepped back inside and said, “I have to go love.”

“Why you?”

“I’m the leader remember.”

When they were ready, a dozen heavily armed braves joined them and
the expedition got underway.

After a few miles, they reached a hillock and the chief pointed to
the swampy plain below.

“Hotep anata.”

“You lost them there?” Terrance asked.

“Anata seheh.”

Dudley shrugged his shoulders.

“We should be able to find them.”

“Let’s hope so.”

As they descended onto the plain, the soil became wetter by the second. As the ground levelled off, the chief stopped and pointed.

Lying upon a large grassy clump lay two human skeletons.

“They have been picked clean sir.”

“I can see that Dudley. Question is by what?”

As they looked for clues, the warriors were all set to move inside the swamp itself.

“Oh no you don’t,” Terrance said. “We want you safe here.”

The chief nodded, seeming to understand the warning.

“We can’t find a thing sir,” an archer said. “Whatever did this is long gone now.”

Terrance rubbed his chin.

“I don’t like this one bit.”

A sudden screech from the swamp made everyone look.

“That sounded like distress to me,” Dudley pointed out.

“Me too,” Terrance said. “I want none of our people anywhere near here.”

“Understood.”

A large clump of redness began to appear in the middle distance and
everyone looked.

“Some kind of animal?” Dudley asked.

“Could well be. Just keep an eye on it.”

As the clump grew larger and flatter, Terrance had a sick feeling in his guts.

“I think a retreat would be in order here.”

As they pulled back, the clump advanced.

“It may be restricted to that habitat sir,” an archer said.

“We are not taking the risk,” Terrance said.

The red clump grew closer to the grass and small red creatures swarmed toward them.

“They look like soldier ants,” Terrance said. “Everyone back to the hill right now.”

As they turned and fled, a warrior slipped and went down.

“Come on move it!” Dudley yelled but it was too late.

The ants swarmed over his body, their tiny choppers cutting him to ribbons. Terrible screams filled the air until the ants cut it off.

From the hillock, the human force looked back.

“What do you want us to do?” Dudley asked.

“Actually I’ve no idea. Arrows and blasters won’t stop them.”

“If they keep going our camp will be overrun,” Dudley said.

“That is my main worry mate. No ruddy insects are going to destroy that.”

The chief pointed at the advancing swarm.

“Hotep allajah.”

“We can see them chief,” Terrance said. “We better fall back a bit further.”

They retreated as the chomping army came on.

As they reached the base of the hill, the leader had an idea. Grabbing an archer he said, “Go back to the settlement and tell every able bodied man to bring shovels and a couple of our fire lighters now.”

The man saluted and ran off as Dudley watched the swarm appear on the small summit.

“You plan to make a stand?”

“We have no option mate. Let’s fall back again. Hopefully our team will meet us half way.”

The insect army marched on, pushing the people before them. Every animal unlucky to meet them was rapidly torn asunder by the large chomping jaws.

As they retreat came within a half mile of home, help arrived at last. Terrance was thoroughly delighted.

“Right here is the plan of action. I need a long semi circular trench dug and filled with bracken.”

As they watched, the men began digging frantically as the braves watched in utter amazement.

“I just hope this works,” Terrance muttered. “We could end up being surrounded.”

The trench took a half hour to dig and the men began filling it with bracken as the army came into view.

“Give us the firelighters and fall back,” Terrance said.

As the army advanced, it seemed to stop.

“They seem to know,” Dudley whispered.

“This may shake them up.”

He activated one of the lighters and pointed at the swarm. A ray of intense heat swept the mass, setting it alight at once. The vast remainder seemed to panic and marched straight into the trench. As it did so, the lighters struck again and the entire trench exploded into flame.

As thick black smoke rose, the killer ants were rapidly consumed in the conflagration.

“We ruddy well won,” Dudley said with pleasure.

“Not yet we haven’t mate. I need to stop the blighters for good.
Come on.”

He led his team around the inferno and toward the west of the hillock. As they emerged, the vast swamp came into view.

“We can’t go in there sir,” Dudley reminded him.

“I know we can’t but we can at least check it out more thoroughly.”

When they reached the soft ground, Terrance gazed across the huge wasteland.

“Looks quite peaceful you know. Until you remember the horror within.”

He knelt and plunged a hand into the goo. As it surfaced, he noticed thick, black gunge.

“Would you believe it?”

“Is that what I think it is?” Dudley asked.

Terrance stood and smiled.

“The entire swamp is covered in oil and we all know what that means.”

“It floats on top of water too,” Dudley chipped in.

“We need three lighters.”

When they were ready, they pointed toward the centre of the mire and activated. Within seconds, the surface caught light and a roaring wall of orange flame rushed toward them.

“Run for it!”

They scrambled back as the intense wall of heat approached. Even when they reached a safe distance, the heat was still being felt.
As they watched the huge pall of tar coloured smoke rise and drift
Dudley said, “That could burn for weeks or months you know.”

Terrance shook his head.

“I don’t really care how long it burns for. Just as long as every last ant is well and truly fried.”

“Hotep karnal.”

Terrance turned as the happy chief embraced him.

“You're welcome mate. Only too happy to help.”

The team turned and headed home, where their friends and lovers waited.
...
That night in camp, everyone watched the huge red glow as it lit up the horizon. Holding his arm Trudy asked, “Is that the end of them?”

“I sure hope so dear. Those choppers were a little too lethal for my liking.”

“What about those machines? Is leaving them alone the best decision in the long term?”

“You heard Dudley my dear. We cannot possibly match them. What else can we do?”

“I just don’t like the idea of them waiting for us.”

“I know how you feel my dear. I’ve tried to explain to the chief but I’m not sure the message got through.”

“What about our evac craft and the empty pet pod?”

“What about them?”

“Could we use them to leave if we really have to?”

Her loving partner shook his head.

“One way only I’m afraid. The power system can only drive the central computers.”

“So we are really stuck then?”

He nodded then scowled.

“The commodore gave us a chance and we took it. We are what remains of a thousand passengers my dear. The last humans on a brand new world. If you ask me I think we have done pretty well.”

She hugged him, as a low rumble came and another fireball rose from the burning swamp.

“What a lovely sight my dear,” Terrance whispered. “Come on time for bed.”

She giggled and winced again.

“Just two months to go now,” he said happily. “Then it’s oh mummy!”

She elbowed his ribs as they walked home laughing like two happy teenagers.

Terrance and Trudy walked arm in arm through the now open stockade gate as Moira ran toward them.

“Just look at what I’ve got.”

She unfurled the long dress with the distinctive colour and twirled.

“Looks lovely,” Trudy said.

“You look radiant,” Moira said.

“After six months I should be.”

They laughed as they strolled into the Indian market.

“A lot has changed you know since we arrived,” Terrance muttered.

“I know, just look at the teepees.”

Terrance smiled as he looked over at the grassy plain. Teepees dotted the ground, and happy warriors played with the many children.
Trudy stopped at a small stall that displayed traditional jewellery.

“These look wonderful,” she commented.

The squaw smiled and said, “Terah hotep jansy?”

The couple glanced at each other.

“I think she’s asking do you want to buy.”

Terrance pointed to a lovely silver necklace.

“How much?”

The squaw seemed to think.

“Terra dong hotep.”

As a way of explanation, she counted two fingers.

“That’s quite reasonable,” Terrance said.

He reached into his pocket and handed over two of the simple crystals that the settlers now used as currency. The happy squaw handed over the necklace and bowed politely.

“Shall we move on?” Terrance asked.

A sudden call made them look and Sammy dashed up.

“We need your help.”

They followed him toward the teepees, and saw John and Terry plucking arrows from the target bale.

“What’s up?” Terrance asked.

“They are thrashing us,” John explained. “They keep getting bulls eyes.”

Trudy laughed and whispered, “You should have a go.”

A brave smiled and handed him the bow and Terrance shrugged.

“I had better at least hit the target.”

As the braves watched, the leader took careful aim and let the string go. The arrow hurtled toward the target, striking the blue zone.

“Pretty good,” Terry said.

The brave waited a moment and then took aim. As everyone watched, his arrow slammed into the red zone.

As the brave whooped, Terrance shook his head.

“We need to be trained up I see.”

Another call drew them back toward the market where Dudley was busy studying something.

“What have we got here?” Trudy asked.

Dudley handed over the strange looking object. It was a simply a large metallic ball with a glass top. As Terrance examined it he hissed, “This is advanced technology. These people didn’t build it.”

The squaw snatched it back and placed it upon her stall.

“Yanah sol...”

She tapped the glass and a holographic image was at once projected. As they watched, images showed humanoid machines with antenna for ears doing battle with laser rifles. The last images showed them climbing inside oblong chambers that looked like tubes.

As the images ended, Terrance became very worried.

“Suspended animation Dudley?”

“Certainly looks like it.”

“That would explain why they were not detected by the late commodore. We need to know where this was found.”

He tried to explain in words and hand signals to the poor squaw, but to her it was double Dutch.

As Terrance shook his head, Dudley pointed.

“Perhaps the old chief could help?”

Terrance took the device and ran over.

“Where did you find? Eh...Hotep?”

The chief smiled and pointed towards the far west.

“At least we have the general direction,” Dudley said. “Do you want an expedition?”

Terrance shook his head.

“Not for the present eh.”

Karen suddenly ran up carrying what looked like a large yam.

“Look what the boys found?”

As Terrance gazed the old chief became quite agitated.

“Soleh yosun ka. Dell non se pa...”

“What do you think he’s saying?” Trudy asked.

“Whatever it is he looks fairly worried.

”Karen shook her head and ran off shouting, “Spoilsport!”

The intensely happy event had gone off without a hitch, and as
Terrance and Trudy relaxed in their new cabin she was smiling.

“The brave’s seem happy that our men are fraternising with their women.”

“I’m glad they don’t mind. With kids on the way, our friendship with the natives has given our colony an extra boost.

“Not to mention a new fighting chance,” Trudy pointed out.

“That too.”
...
Across the settlement, Karen had finally decided to cut the large fruit open. As she took the knife, the four residents watched with interest.

“What do you intend to do with it?”

“I hope to boil the contents of course. It should make an
interesting addition to hog soup.”

As the others laughed, she pressed the blade against the egg like top and it suddenly cracked open. A white mist immediately shot out and engulfed her. As she coughed and spluttered, the residents stopped laughing.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so,” she stammered. “I reckon this fruit should be left alone after all.”

She rinsed her face in the water bowl and settled upon the floor to sleep. As the hours passed, she became increasingly restless.

“What’s up now?”

“I eh, have to go outside for a moment.”

She staggered from the hut and towards the communal fire. As she did so, sweat began pouring from her brow.

Her knees suddenly buckled and she fell.

“Help me!”

The plaintive cry was heard, and Sammy dashed out with Terrance, Dudley, and Larry closely following.

“What’s wrong with her?” Sammy asked.

“Medic!” Terrance yelled as Trudy hobbled up.

Karen was now gasping for air as the medic reached her. He took the scanner from his satchel and stared at the readout.

“Her temperature is at 105 degrees. We have to cool her down. Help me to get her into the healing room.”

The ill woman was carried into the hut and gently laid down, as she began coughing up a thick white sputum.

“Sammy,” Terrance said. “Go to her home and find out what happened now!”

When the kid dashed off, the medic took a sponge and bowl and began dabbing at her forehead.

“Could it be poisoning from that yam thing?” Trudy asked.

“The chief certainly didn’t like it when she carried it over,” Terrance said. “I just hope she hasn’t eaten it.”

When Sammy returned he told the story and the medic looked grimly up.

“The spores may have entered her lungs sir.”

“What’s her chances?” Dudley asked.

“Less than ten percent I’m afraid.”

Green tendrils suddenly appeared from her mouth and everyone leapt back.

“The damn thing is consuming her from the inside!” Terrance said sharply. “Everyone get out.”

Before a muscle had moved, the woman’s familiar body crumbled and a writhing mass of plant tissue swayed in their direction.

“Out now!” Terrance screamed.

As they reached the outside world, Terrance ran to the fire and lit a torch. As he returned, the plant like creature appeared in the open doorway.

“Let's see how you like this!”

He tossed the torch at the base of the monstrosity and the flames took hold. They stepped back as it burned fiercely.

“What about the hut sir?” the medic asked.

“Let it burn,” Terrance said grimly. “We can always build another. Anyway, you have the other one.”

The flaming creature collapsed as the entire building went up. The loud crackles bought others out to watch.

“What happened?”

The leader turned to the crowd and said, “We lost Karen. No one touch those ruddy yams!”

“The chief knew,” Trudy reminded him.

“I wish she had listened,” her partner muttered.

By morning, the hut had been reduced to a smoking hulk and the settlers broke down the remaining wall. The old chief knocked and Terrance let him inside their happy home.

“Hotep condrill tan.”

As they gazed in bewilderment, he took the viewing device from a satchel and handed it over.

“For us?” the leader asked.

The old man screwed his eyes and repeated very slowly.

“For...You...”

I was really mean to daddy.
I had slept upon his bed,
the sofa, for hours.
Then daddy wanted his bed again.

I stretched and yawned.
I gazed up with my watery eyes.
“Find your own bed daddy.
This one’s mine tonight.”

Daddy just looked and smiled.
No anger, no sadness, just a
silent resignation.
“You win darling.”

I watched curiously as the
cushions came off.
You know the ones.
The headrest.

Daddy removed all three
and placed them near the door.
I jumped onto the headrest
and watched.

“What are you doing daddy?”
He laid them down and put
the duvet over.
“Time for daddy’s bed love.”

I watched the light go off.
I waited for daddy to sleep.
Then I returned to my real bed.
Daddy’s chair.

Goodnight daddy.
Sleep well.
Do better in next time.
Thanks for the treats...

Warning: This story contains scenes that some readers may find disturbing...
...
“Nine empty homes now after last month’s carnage.”

Trudy cuddled up to her partner, trying to find a comfortable position for her enlarged abdomen.

“Two of the homes are now being used by the medics and we have six new pregnancies.”

“What are you suggesting love?”

She smiled.

“Why not allow the happy couples a home each.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea. What about number nine then?”

She hugged him tenderly.

“Why not us eh?”

“Tired of our company then?” Larry asked.

“Not at all. Moira would love to come back,” Trudy said. Then with a
glint in her eye, she added, “Then one of you two could eh...”

“What about me?” Sammy asked.

“You’re a man now son,” Terrance replied.

“I know that already.”

“What are you getting at then?” Trudy asked.

“When do I get a wife?”

Everyone laughed.

“Not till you are eighteen mate,” Dudley chipped in.

“One thing you know,” Terrance said. “With all that warrior weaponry
our stores are quite full now.”

Trudy suddenly became serious.

“What about Raymondo?”

Terrance did not like the name.

“What about him.”

“You should have another word,” Trudy suggested.

“So that I can beat the truth out of him?”

“He hangs on the morrow. Perhaps he will talk now.”

Terrance shook his head.

“That will do no good.”

“Have a go at least,” Larry said.

Terrance agreed and left for the new holding area.

As he walked over, he saw the four new watchtowers and called out, “Any signs?”

“No sir,” John replied. “All quiet.”

“Glad to hear it.”

When he reached the jail he said, “Open up.”

The sentry removed the simple blocking bar and opened the door.
Sitting upon the floor with one candle to provide light, Raymondo glared.

“Is it time yet?”

“Six hours till dawn mate. Tell me what happened.”

“Why should I. You lot condemned me remember?”

“I need to know the truth, that’s why.”

Raymondo thought back a week and nodded at last.
...
The lake lay far to the south and at times, the settlers came here for rest and relaxation. Raymondo was no different. His time was spent on guard duty and though it was a boring occupation, it kept the settlement safe from harm.

At least most of the time.

As he reached the empty, dark lake, he spotted some unusual activity.

“What’s going on here then?” he muttered to himself.

As he watched from a nearby tree, he saw the simple pile of clothes lying upon the grass covered bank.

“Looks like warrior clothes to me. I better check this out.”

He crouched down and edged forward slowly until he reached a large rock. Gazing across the cold water, he spotted a dark haired figure merrily swimming across the placid surface.

“Looks like a squaw to me. Perhaps I can return the axe they tried to kill me with.”

He slowly removed it and then had a thought.

“I’ll introduce myself personally.”

He quickly stripped and dived into the lake, stroking his way toward the unsuspecting woman.

When he surfaced next to her, she squealed in alarm.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He watched her swimming frantically doggy style toward the bank and set off after her.

As she climbed out, her glistening young body came into full view.

“Cor!”

Raymondo reached the bank moments later, and climbed out as the woman tried to cover herself.

“I mean you no harm.”

The squaw stepped back and saw the axe sitting nearby. As he tried to make himself understood, she leapt and picked it up.

“Non santo hotep!”

Raymondo simply stared.

“Now hold on one minute.”

“Non santo hotep!”

When he shook his head, the blade lashed out and struck his right
arm a glancing blow.

“Oh my crikey that hurt,” he muttered looking at the cut.

The squaw brandished the weapon and started to advance.

“You stupid *****!”

He lashed out, knocking the axe flying into the lake as he lunged forward.

“I’ll teach you some ruddy manners!”

He grabbed her roughly and she lashed out with her fist. He absorbed the blow and slapped her violently, watching as she fell onto her back.

“Do that to me would you?”

He smiled down at the cowering woman and roughly pinned her right hand down with his foot.

“Now squaw you will pay for your misdeed.”

He quickly knelt and grabbing the flailing feet pushed the thighs roughly apart.

“Oh this is going to be really good!”

He reached down as he covered her young body, guiding himself into her easily. As she screamed and bucked, he clamped a palm over her mouth.

“Just shut up *****. You deserve it!”

He thrust savagely and his mouth bit down upon a tender nipple. When she again tried to fight him off, he swung a savage punch that silenced her.

“Now that’s a lot better mam.”

With no resistance now, he adjusted himself and thrust repeatedly.

“Oh yes, oh my...”

The brutal hips pummelled her until the inevitable happened. He pulled out then and roughly turned her over.

“Ever had it doggy?”

The unconscious woman did not answer of course.

Raymondo spat upon himself until he was ready, and savagely thrust inside the upper firmament where members were never designed to go.

“Oh it’s so tight too...”

He grabbed the breasts, his fingers cutting into them as he thrust once, twice, thrice before collapsing with pleasure.

“You little harlot...You damn well enjoyed that.”

He savagely turned her over and opened the compliant mouth.

“Now ***** give me head!”

He flopped it deep inside and holding the head, firmly thrust until she choked. Even in her death spasm, he took his revolting pleasure.

As he pulled out, Raymondo dropped the floppy head and slapped it hard.

“Wake up!”

When there was no response, he reached for the axe and whispered, “Die on me would you!”

He raised the blade and savagely hacked the head off before tossing it into the lake. Then he dragged the lifeless body into the water before calmly walking back to the peaceful settlement.
...
The sun had set when the knock came.

“Don’t anyone move,” Terrance said. “I’ll get it.”

When he opened the door, John was staring.

“Sentry reports that chief is back.”

Terrance rolled his eyes.

“Oh not again.”

Terrance dashed to the gate wall and climbed the ladder.

“He’s carrying someone.”

As the small party approached, he dashed down again.

“Open the gate.”

He soon found himself looking at the headless corpse of a young woman.

“Hotep anameh santani,” the chief said.

Terrance knelt and looked at her.

“Hotep anameh santani.”

Terrance had a sudden thought and stood.

“You think one of us did this?”

“Hotep can leven.”

The leader picked the corpse up and carried it inside with the war party behind him.

“Get a ruddy medic!” Terrance screamed.

As one rushed forward he took in the sight.

“There is nothing that I can do sir.”

Terrance placed her gently upon the ground by the communal fire and hissed, “You can scan for DNA!”

The medic took the device from his satchel and placed a probe inside the birth canal. When the reading came through, he showed it to the leader.

Terrance took the device and showed this to the chief.

“Assemble all our men at once!”

When the assembly was made, the medic checked each man in turn. As each man was passed, the machine remained silent.

As Raymondo was checked, it beeped loudly.

“You son of a donkey!” Terrance shrieked marching forward.

He struck the killer twice and would have murdered him then and there, had he not been restrained.

The chief watched all this and coming forward said, “Hotep alasta!”
Despite the lingo, Terrance understood only too well.”

“Of course he’ll die. I’ll hang him myself in the morning. You can stay and watch if you like. We cannot have another war. Not on my ruddy watch!”

The old chief understood and was led off to some vacant accommodation with his men.”
...
“Now you know,” the condemned man said.

“Why the utter brutality?” Terrance asked.

“I lost my temper that’s all.”

“That’s no excuse.”

Raymondo glared at him.

“You going to be executioner then?”

“I’m the leader around here so I have to.”

The sentry entered and the condemned saw the early light.

“Time to go then.”

Terrance removed his weapon and covering him, followed toward the waiting gallows.

As he stood upon the simple platform and the rope was placed around his neck, the old chief and the war party looked on.

“Any last words?” Terrance asked.

“Go to hell the lot of you!”

Terrance pushed him over the edge, and watched as the life was choked out of him.

When it was over, the chief came forward and patted the leader upon his weak shoulders.

“Hotep nonteh.”

“Friend?” Terrance asked.

The warriors looked at each other and a very strange thing happened.

The old chief smiled, and very slowly and carefully said, “Friend...”

The three archers walked into the compound with the hog loosely carried over a shoulder.

“You got it then,” Terrance said.

“It put up a bit of a fight but in the end a couple of arrows dealt with it.”

“Glad to see you all back safely.”

“How’s Trudy doing?”

Terrance shrugged his shoulders.

“After four months she’s doing alright at present.”

As he walked over to the log hut, the sentry shouted a warning.

“What’s up?” the leader asked.

“Seems that we have company sir.”

When Terrance climbed the ladder, he was astonished to see a small
group of natives approaching from the forest.

“So there is intelligent life here after all.”

“Surely the commodore would have checked for that.”

“Natives do not send out signals mate. I better see what they want.
Open up the gate.”

When he stepped outside the small party stopped too.

Terrance looked over their rough clothes and noted the quiver slung over their shoulders.

“How do I communicate with them?”

“Hey tow lateson?”

The leader shook his head and tried something. Pointing to himself he said slowly, “Me friend.”

The natives looked at each other for a moment.

A tall individual came toward him.

“Lateson povokteh.”

“Sorry mate.”

This seemed to annoy the fellow for he suddenly pointed to the stockade.

“Lateson non prenda!”

“You wish to go inside?” Terrance asked.

A second warrior approached and removed a knife from its sheath. Handing it to his supposed chief, he returned to the braves.

“Soleh yanno datum!”

He threw the blade at the closed gate and promptly walked off with his men, leaving Terrance none the wiser.

He pulled the blade out and walked back inside.

“At least we know there is steel ore somewhere.”

“You think they are friendly sir?”

Terrance glanced at the sentry.

“I’m not quite sure. Just keep a sharp lookout.”

He wandered over to one of the homes and knocking, entered swiftly.
As the five men looked he said, “I need bowmen to bolster our defences.”

As they snapped to it, one asked, “We expecting trouble then?”

Terrance showed them the blade.

“Just keep an eye out.”

He found Trudy lying upon the floor doing exercises that were essential for a mother to be.

“Enjoying that?”

“Why not join me dear?”

“What do you make of this? It was thrown at the gate.”

She sat up and examined it.

“Very well made. You saw who threw this?”

Terrance nodded.

“A group of Indians no less.”

She stood at once, despite the increased bump.

“It’s a declaration of war love.”

“Are you positive?”

“He was making a statement of intent.”

“After all this time, why now?”

“It could be any number of reasons. He may be just as surprised to find us here. Perhaps we are upon his happy hunting ground. One thing I’m sure of though.”

“Go on.”

“When the sun dips below the horizon, his braves will attack.”

“I’ll make the arrangements. Just stay here.”

He dashed to the communal fire and taking the wooden spoon began banging the pot loudly.

When the people came, he raised his hands.

“I want all women to remain inside their homes tonight. Every able
bodied man will join me in defence.”

There was a shocked silence.

“A people that we knew nothing about have chosen to make war upon us. As it is, this is our home now. We have no option but to defend it.”

As the females scurried off, Terrance began splitting the men into groups. Each one deployed to the four long walls.

Petra however dashed over.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go with the woman just in case.”

“We only have twelve archers sir. You need another gunman.”

When he shook his head, she became rather annoyed.

“Who will treat the wounded then?" Your wife?”

Terrance grimaced.

Our medics are trained now, and we have enough. Now please do as I ask.”

When she dashed off, he gazed around the compound at the waiting men. As an afterthought he shouted, “Put some extra ladders against the walls. We need to keep the enemy as far off as possible.”

He shook his head as men scurried to and fro muttering quietly, “This had better be enough to stop them.”
...
As the darkness fell, strange new sounds echoed from the nearby forest. Terrance stood ready as an archer approached.

“What do they think they’ll do first?”

“Perhaps launch probing attacks to judge our strength.”

A shout from the west wall made them dash over.

“I saw something moving sir.”

“Remember to fire at fifty yards,” Terrance called out. “Archers, try and use those arrows sparingly. We don’t have a lot to spare.”

He had just finished when a hail of arrows rained from across the wall. As they struck the flat roofs, the women cowered in side.

“Wait for them,” the leader said as screams came from the west wall.

Moments later a group of hostiles ran at the defenders who opened up at once. As the sonic blasters struck, the natives went down and did not move.

“We got that lot,” Terry said.

“Just keep them off,” Terrance advised.

A second hail of arrows struck just as ineffectively followed by another group attack. As they neared the wall, the defenders easily cut them down.

“It’s like shooting rabbits,” John muttered.

“Rabbits don’t fire back,” Terry reminded him.

A pause ensued until the gate wall came under heavy attack. A shower of arrows smashed against the wood, quickly followed by ladder men.

The defenders stopped this onslaught until the enemy bowmen started targeting the upper wall. Two men yelled and plummeted to the ground. As the remainder ducked for cover, hordes of natives surged forward.

“Hold your position!” Terrance yelled as the ladders hit the gate wall.

The defenders tried to stop them, but well placed axe blows took a heavy toll.

“West wall to the gate!” Terrance screamed as the natives broke over the top.

The defenders rushed over and Sammy was one of them. As an axe-wielding enemy rushed at him, he fired automatically.

Terrance ran over and gave covering fire as the natives began to fall in large numbers.

“We need to plug the gap,” Terry warned as another swarm climbed the wall.

Terrance knew that he had no real option now.

“Everyone to the gate wall now!”

As they dashed over the enemy buckled under the weapons of the settlers and survivors turned to flee. Seeing this the leader shouted, “Let them go.”

As the bodies were quickly dragged to a corner Terrance found Larry and asked, “How many did we lose?”

“No more than ten sir. We killed more of them.”

“This is ruddy stupid. We can’t replace these losses.”

The woods went quiet at last, and no further attacks were launched that night. When daylight broke the weary defenders remained on station.

“At least they have not returned,” Dudley said happily.

“We have a reprieve for a moment,” Terrance said. “Make sure the dead are buried outside the compound eh?”

As he returned to his partner, she glanced up.

“How are we doing love?”

“We lost ten last night. At that rate, it won’t take long to grind us down I’m afraid.”

“Can’t we strike back?”

He shook his head.

“If we get caught in the open it’s over.”

The hours passed without incident, as more arrows were frantically made. Just before sunset, the strange sounds began again.

“Here we go again,” the leader muttered stepping toward the gate wall.

“Any sign of them?”

The sentry shook his head.

Seconds later an arrow took him down.

“Here they come!” a voice shouted as Terrance clambered onto the vacant ladder.

“Open fire!”

The blasters opened up as the natives came on in a solid pack. A shower of arrows struck the upper wall, allowing the ladders to be placed against it.

Terrance found himself clubbing the attackers as they clambered up as his colleagues did their best to resist the onslaught.

“There are too many!” Larry shouted as the men fell back.

“Everyone over here!” Terrance yelled as he fired repeatedly at the yelling foe.

As bodies fell the attack petered out at last, and this time no casualties were reported.

“They can’t do this all night,” Dudley said.

“There could be thousands of them mate,” the guard said. “If they rush at once, we won’t be able to hold them.

“Let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that eh?”

After an hour of quiet, the strange sounds began again. This time however, the enemy stood up and yelled from a safe distance.

Terrance ran from wall to wall and gazed at them.

“We’re damn well surrounded.”

“I hope they stay where they are,” Larry said.

“So do I.”

A sudden hail of arrows took down five men, as the horde struck en -masse.

“Oh crikey!” Terry yelled out.

“We fight to our last breath!” Terrance yelled as arrows bounced off the flat roofs.

Despite heavy losses, the natives reached the wall line and threw up the ladders as the bowmen concentrated upon the upper wall.

“Fall back!” Terrance screamed. “Form a wall around our homes!”

The leader watched his men obey, and the enemy scrambling over the walls in hot pursuit. Sammy ran to join him and Terrance smiled down.

“If we survive this lad, I’ll get you a medal.”

Sammy nodded.

The natives fell under the concentrated fire but soon reached the defenders. As fierce hand-to-hand fighting broke out, a screaming native carrying an axe rushed at Sammy. When Terrance cut him down, he grabbed it.

“This should come in handy.”

He swung fiercely, smashing the skulls of those around him as Sammy fired again and again.

A sudden yell went up.

“We can’t hold them!”

Terrance swung around and screamed, “Remember the Alamo!”

He suddenly saw the many doors of the homes open and the woman appearing.

“Get back inside!”

A single voice that he recognised cried out, “Let’s get them girls!”

Armed with blasters, knives and pans, they rushed to help their failing men folk. Terrance smashed his axe into the face of a howling warrior who crashed down before him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a warrior charge at pregnant Trudy and dashed to intercept. As he ran, an arrow slammed into his back. His fading vision recorded her cutting the attacker down with a well-placed knife blow.

She dashed across and pulled the arrow out.

“You stupid man! I had him covered.”

Terrance groaned and he managed to glance up.

“Pardon me for breathing.”

As he blacked out, the warriors were at last driven back against the walls and killed to the last man.

When he opened his eyes once more, he saw Trudy looking down at him.

“How did we do?” he groaned.

“Don’t try to sit up. We held them off. At least three hundred were killed.”

“How about us?”

“We lost another thirty I’m afraid.”

“Damn the losses. We must make peace.”

“Only they can do that Terrance, not us.”

He pushed her off and sat up slowly.

“Help me outside.”

“If you insist.”

As they hobbled out, he saw the large pile of now rotting corpses.

“This carnage has to stop. Where is that knife they gave us?”

“It’s inside, why?”

“Go and get it.”

When she handed it over, they hobbled over to the gate wall.

“Any sign of them?”

“No sir,” Dudley said. “Not a peep.”

Then a shout went up from the west wall. By the time Terrance got there, a group of warriors had advanced to within firing range.

“They are unarmed sir.”

“Hold your fire,” Terrance yelled.

He managed to climb the ladder and saw the same warrior he had met earlier. Pointing to the wall, he said weakly, “We mean you no harm.”

“Hetop nokly son.”

Terrance rolled his eyes.

“I don’t understand!”

“Yotep son lee. Rah fed conteh.”

He saw the chief point at the knife and the penny dropped. He aimed carefully and threw it back, watching the blade as it landed at the warrior’s feet.

The proud man picked it up and placed his two arms across his chest.

“Yoh solap conteh.”

He turned his back and led the party back to the woods and toward their distant encampment.

“What was that all about?” the sentry asked.

“How the hell do I know?”

When night fell, they waited but no attack came. As dawn broke, Terrance stood them down at last. As Trudy helped him back home, he shook his head sadly.

“Surely he did not simply want his knife back?”

As she laid him down, she shook her head.

“You threw it at his feet love. You stated your intent and he got the message.”

Terrance was more than a little confused.

“What message?”

“That you would rather die than leave this place. The chief won’t be back and perhaps one day, we can even be friends.”

That happy thought made him smile.

“I sure hope so.”

“Some hike that you have brought us on,” Petra said as they picked their way south across the rocky terrain.

“Stop complaining,” Davies suggested. “You lot wanted a bit of time outside the compound.”

Nancy adjusted the backpack as dark clouds rolled overhead.

“It had better not rain on us.”

“We have the tents with us,” Steven reminded her.

The rubble-strewn field was obviously the product of an ice age, and the team stopped as a small stream cut across their path.

“I suppose this is when we get our feet wet,” Nancy said gazing at the dark water.

“How deep do you reckon it is?” Petra asked.

“Shall we find out?” Davies said.

He carefully put his foot into the water and slowly lowered it. As it reached his knees, he hit the bottom.

“That’s not too deep. Come on.”

He carefully waded the four feet across to the rocky bank as his friends followed. Just ahead, lay their target for the day.

“Looks pretty magnificent doesn’t it,” Steven said.

“It’s just a large square rock,” Nancy pointed out.

“A huge lump of flat topped sandstone more like,” Petra added.

“Let’s hope that after nearly a day’s walk, we can get to the top.”

“So we stay the night,” Davies said happily.

The ground began to rise gently as they reached the base of the rock. They gazed up and around, looking for an easy ascent.

“Why not try that?” Nancy suggested.

Steven looked at the sunken pathway and again at the dark clouds.

“As long as the rain holds off.”

“Why the concern?” Petra asked.

Steven pointed to the silt.

“The path has been made by heavy water that’s why. If we were to get caught...Well...”

His sentence needed no completing. The meaning was crystal clear.

“I’ll go first then,” Nancy said leading the way.

The sunken path was quite easy to negotiate. As they reached a rocky
overhang, the path moved underneath. The team stopped as Steven moved carefully ahead.

“I’ll check to see that it is safe.”

He started tapping the red sandstone with his fist until he was satisfied the edifice would not come crashing onto their clumsy heads.

“It’ll stay the course,” he muttered.

They moved on along the ledge as the path took a violent twist.

“Nearly half way,” Nancy said.

“This is far easier than I expected,” Davies admitted.

“Almost like a quiet Sunday jaunt,” Petra whispered.

They negotiated the twist easy enough until the path swung left and stopped suddenly.

“Seems to end here,” Steven said.

They looked at the stream of dislodged rocks and easily guessed the cause.

“Must have been a landslide,” Nancy said.

“Do we go on or turn back?” Petra asked.

“At least allow me to think,” Steven said analysing the problem.

His keen eyes picked up the slant of the slide and a slightly firmer section above.

“We go on.”

“Across that?” Davies asked. “It’ll give way.”

“There is solid ground above the slide,” Steven said. “I’ll go first.”

They watched as he crept forward carefully.

“The path resumes here,” he muttered happily.

Nancy slowly followed as Petra and Davies hung back.

“Come on you two,” Steven urged. “We need to reach the top before sunset.”

Petra nodded and crept forward to join them.

“Just looked a bit risky that’s all.”

She reached the safety of the path as Davies stepped onto the firm ground.

“Seems damn unstable to me,” he whispered.

As his foot ground into the rock, a sudden cracking sound was quickly followed by the firm ground giving way.

“Oh no..!” Davies yelled as he lost his footing.

Petra reached out with her hand but Davies staggered as the slide began and plummeted towards the rocks below.

“Davies!” Steven screamed in vain.

“What do we do?” Nancy yelled.

“We certainly can’t go back that way,” Steven admitted as the short collapse slid to a halt.

“To hell with staying overnight,” Petra said. “We reach the top and find a quick way down.”

“I agree,” the comrades said.

Steven looked ahead as the path lurched right and started a heavily slanted ascent. He watched the loose rocks as they carefully inched forward.

“This looks like the hard bit,” Steven said gazing ahead.

He started the climb slowly, double-checking the rocks with his fingers. As he pulled himself higher, Petra found herself stuck.

“Hey you two, hold it a second.”

“We have to keep going,” Steven called back. “I reckon on half an hour’s daylight left.

“My ruddy foot’s jammed!”

The friends stopped.

“Try wiggling it,” Nancy suggested.

“I tried that.”

“Just calm down,” Steven said. “Let me through Nancy.”

Steven slowly moved down until he reached her at last. He crouched down and carefully moved the gravel to one side.

“Now try it.”

Petra wiggled and the foot slid free.

“Just watch where you step,” he said smiling. “I’ll take up the rear
Nancy. Take it easy eh?”

“I’ll try.”

She clung on and hauled her body higher as the path got even steeper.

“I think there is a ledge here,” she mumbled.

“We could rest for a moment,” Petra suggested.

“When we reach it,” Steven advised.

Nancy placed two hands upon the ledge and pulled hard. Her body rose quickly and her eyes opened in horror as a crevasse opened below her.

“Steven..!”

“Nancy!”

The scream stopped swiftly as Steven climbed past Petra and pulled
himself carefully to the ledge.

“She’s had it.”

“What happened?” Nancy demanded.

“The ledge was the lisp of a crevasse. She went straight over.”

“Then we are stuck! How the hell do we get out of this?”

Steven shook his head.

“I really don’t know.”

He sat back as Petra looked at him.

“We just cannot sit here mate.”

“Look, two friends are dead. There is a ruddy great hole ahead that we simply cannot get around.”

“How large is it?” Nancy asked.

Steven turned slowly and gazed down.

“Roughly thirty foot wide I'd say. Probably a hundred foot deep as
well.”

“Look for anything that may help us,” Petra suggested. “I’m not dying out here.”

As Steven looked, he saw a large square block that seemed pretty solid. When he reported it, she had an idea.

“How much rope do we have between us?”

“About a hundred feet but we cannot lash it together. It won’t take
the strain.”

“Take your out and connect it to a pin. Then hammer it in.”

“You want us to climb down?”

“That fissure may extend to the outside world. It may be our only chance.”

“I hope you know what you are doing.”

As the rope was secured, Nancy removed her own and placed it over her head and shoulder. She took a metal pin and placed this inside her pocket. Once the rope was dangling, Steven went over the edge.

“It looks quite loose.”

“I’ll try not to knock it off then,” Petra said.

The slow descent was arduous and as they neared the free hanging end, Steven stopped.

“Wait a second,” she said removing her own rope and handing it over.

As he took hold, she gave him the pin.

“Now secure it.”

Steven lashed it to the pin and hammered hard. After a few hefty tugs, he was convinced that it would hold.

“So far so good eh?”

He climbed down slowly as Petra followed. After another ten feet, the rain began.

“That’s all we need,” she hissed.

“We got to make it to the bottom now,” Steven said as the drops turned into a torrent. “My hands can’t grip properly.”

They edged down as the downpour lashed their escape route with no let up.

“I’m slipping...Oh crikey!”

He slipped once too often and his body hurtled backwards as Nancy screamed in horror. She closed her eyes and pressed her body tight to the rock wall as the sickening thump reached her ears.

The rain suddenly stopped and she gritted her teeth.

“Come on girl, you have got to do this.”

Nancy placed her feet carefully and began the final descent. As the two crushed bodies came into view, she tried not to look.

She allowed herself to slide the final ten feet and saw that the crack widened a little way ahead.

“I was right after all.”

She scrambled through and found herself standing once more in that rock strewn environment.

“This must be the west wall.”

Nancy turned for home as darkness reached her.

“I see your bump has finally arrived,” Terrance muttered as he kissed Trudy.”

“After three months I’m quite relieved. A phantom pregnancy we can do without.”

“Do you think Moira likes your place?”

“She loves it. Her four companions are trying to make moonshine from
those grapes we found.”

Terrance shook his head as the communal fire burned brightly.

“As long as alcohol fuelled fights don’t start eh? We still don’t
have a jail.”

Trudy laughed as a concerned guard ran over.

“The team are still not back sir.”

“Those climbers?” Trudy asked.

“Gather the bowmen and we’ll mount a search.”

Terrance kissed her soft cheek lightly.

“I’ll see you later.”

The thirteen man party left soon after, and as they headed south a cry was clearly heard.

“It came from over there.”

They dashed forward and saw Petra staggering toward them. Terrance gripped her shoulders roughly.

“Where are the others?”

“As tears streamed down her cheeks she muttered, “They are all dead. I’m the only one.”

“How far away?” a chap asked.

“About two miles,” she replied.

Terrance shook his head.

“We’ll find them in the morning. We have to get you home.”

The bodies were recovered at noon, and brought back to the sad enclosure. After a simple ceremony, they were laid to rest.

Terrance returned to his home with Trudy and Larry the poet. Dudley had decided not to return just yet.

“We can’t keep losing people,” Terrance hissed. “We are down to one hundred and ninety six.”

“Especially not whilst climbing,” Larry added.

“They just wanted a little excitement,” Trudy suggested.

Terrance turned on her.

“Oh yes? Look where it got them!”

He sat down and rapidly calmed himself.

“I’m sorry my dear. I hate wasting lives like this.”

“I know dear,” she said sitting at his side. “We need a new directive.”

Larry tried to smile.

“Something along the lines of thou shalt not climb.”

Terrance strolled towards one of the evac craft and peeked inside. He was not too surprised to see ten team members busily checking the medical log.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay sir. It’ll take a bit of time to train us up.”

“Don’t worry about that. We can cope at present. Just as long as we
leave the fish alone.”

Everyone smiled as he wandered off. He soon came across three men who were intent on foraging.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

“Eggs mainly. We can’t see any birds though.”

“I wish you luck,” the guard said as they trotted toward the woods.

“He’s quite a decent leader John said as they entered the forest.

“As long as he remains that way,” his colleague said.

Around them of course, small animals watched their every step.

“I wonder what that tastes like?”

As John looked, a small furry squirrel dashed up the nearest tree.

“I hope it tastes better than the snake.”

As everyone laughed, their trek continued.

After a couple of miles, they stopped in pure astonishment. Within the thicket, a large circular hole had been deliberately dug. The outer wall stood a foot above ground level.

“What’s a shell hole doing here?”

John shook his head.

“Perhaps we have found one of our elusive birds.”

As they reached the wall and peered inside, they smiled with pleasure.

“Would you believe it? A clutch of eggs.”

Within the nest, six oblongs lay in a neat pile.

“I wonder what kind of bird laid those?” Trevor asked.

“Must have been quite large to make this hole,” John commented.

“I strongly suggest that we grab them and head home.”

As the others checked around, John picked each egg up carefully. After scanning, he put them inside his satchel.

“Our folks are sure going to be pleased with us.”

They moved away toward camp as a rather large lizard approached.

“How long will these take to cook? Trevor asked.”

“I would give them twenty minutes,” John suggested. “Perhaps a
little longer.”

A roar from behind made them turn suddenly.

“What the hell was that?”

They peered through the trees but saw nothing.

“It must be pretty large to make that noise,” John suggested.

“Which means one thing,” Trevor said. “It’s a predator.”

They started back rather quickly as some of the foliage began to part suddenly. A large reptilian head broke through, its mouth covered in large red warts.

“We had better run for it,” John suggested.

As they broke into a sprint, the annoyed creature gave chase.

“Open the gate!” Trevor shouted as they sprinted toward the safety
of the stockade.

As it opened, they ran through at once.

“What’s the problem?” the guard asked.

“Some animal is after us,” Trevor panted.

The disbelieving guard shook his head.

“Probably a primate.”

A roar seemed to dispel that funny idea at once.

The guard climbed the short ladder and peered across the grassy
plain. Advancing steadily toward him was a lizard of huge proportions. From nose to tail, it measured twenty feet and the head was kept eight feet above the ground.

“We need help!” the guard shouted.

As Terrance ran up, the roar came again.

“We seem to have company sir.”

When Terrance saw it, his blood ran cold.

“We need a security team.”

He ran off and soon returned with twenty armed men. Twelve of these had the bows and arrows.

“If we can just keep it off it may go elsewhere,” Terrance suggested.

As he watched, the animal roared again and stopped ten feet from the gate.

“What do you want to do sir,” the posse asked.

“I’ll try the blaster at low strength first.”

When he fired, the animal simply ignored it and moved a foot closer.

“Well that was pretty useless. Something is wrong though.”

“Probably annoyed that it can’t tear us to pieces,” the guard suggested.

“I don’t think so. It keeps sniffing the air for some reason.”

He watched again as the animal’s sensitive nose sniffed the air once more before turning side on to the gate.

“I wonder what the hell it’s after,” Terrance asked.

Another roar floated across but this one sounded different. It had an almost plaintive quality that was usually associated with people.
As Terrance watched, Sammy ran up to the ladder.

“John got half a dozen eggs.”

That word clicked harshly within the guard’s brain. Turning slowly he hissed, “What eggs?”

“They found some kind of nest Terrance,” Sammy explained.

“Ruddy marvellous. Where is he?”

“Over at the communal fire of course.”

The leader ran over toward the community centre and saw the miscreants laughing as the cold water heated up.

“What the hell have you lot done?”

“What do you mean done mate,” John replied. “We found us some eggs.”

“In the pot are they?”

“Where else?” Trevor asked.

Terrance moved forward and removed the pot from the heat before carefully tipping the fluid out.

“What is that for?” John asked in confusion.

The leader pointed toward the closed gate and said, “The mother is outside bawling her eyes out.”

The penny dropped at last.

“So that was the thing chasing us.”

“I’ve a damn good mind to feed you to her!”

He stormed off carrying the now precious cargo, and ordered the gate to be opened.

“You are not going out there?” the stunned guard asked.

“She wants her eggs and I’m going to make damn sure that she gets
them. Now open it!”

As they swung open, Terrance crept out very gingerly and whispered, “Sorry for the distress mam, your offspring are safe and sound.”

The reptile seemed to understand, for it backed off and turned its beady eyes upon him.

“They are unharmed mam. Just a trifle wet that’s all.”

He carefully removed each one and stepped back. As he watched in fascination, the mother came forward and seemed to swallow each one in turn. Terrance did note the increasing bulge of the cheeks.

“She’s taking them home.”

When the last egg had been safely taken up, the grateful animal roared and turned back toward the forest, and the waiting nest.

Rightly smiling to himself, he returned to the compound and quickly called his people together.

Looking at the crowd, he coughed.

“I know that eggs have been missed but we just cannot go grabbing the first ones that we find. From now on, only those found in trees can be harvested. I certainly want to avoid a repeat of my little antic.”

“What if there are no tree nests though?” John asked.

Terrance gritted his teeth and replied, “In that case, eggs are off our menu.”

The crowd grumbled but understood. As they moved off, Trudy came forward.

“Grand speech again but you cannot really expect them to ignore a ready food source.”

"Mom is quite capable of smashing our stockade without any help from us. We really need to keep her on our side. I think we gained a rather unconventional ally today.”

Trudy smiled.

“I hope so Terrance.”
...
Later that night when Terrance returned to his crowded home a smiling Moira greeted him.

“What’s the smile for?”

She took him to one side.

“Trudy has the hots for you. She’s waiting by the communal fire.”

“Why me of all people?”

“Perhaps it’s the command thing? Who really knows?”

He was quite shocked by this news, and decided to do the right thing.
As he approached the roaring flame, Trudy glanced around.

“Evening again.”

“How are we?” he asked sitting down.

“Quite all right. Don’t you feel silly in that silver security guard outfit?”

Terrance grinned.

“You really don’t expect me to run around in my undies do you?”

She laughed.

“What we need is wool to create new garments, before these fall apart.”

“That will have to wait until we find a few sheep.”

“Or their equivalent,” she commented.

He stared at her and whispered.

“Moira thinks you eh...”

She smiled as he blushed.

“We need to start families Terrance. Otherwise our great settlement will be our last.”

“Why with me though?”

“You are our leader mate. Therefore the first kid should be yours.”

“I’m a rather reluctant leader at that.”

“Don’t run yourself down so much. You are the glue that pulls us all together.”

“You really think so?”

She grabbed his arm playfully.

“I’m damn sure.”

He glanced around at the log homes and sighed.

“We can’t really do the deed here.”

She gave him a rather strange look.

“Come with me.”

She led him to the gate where the guard had been tipped off. He
opened it and she pulled him through.

“Where are we off to?”

“The trees of course. Back to nature or what?”

They both giggled as they ran arm in arm toward the dark wood. As
they reached it, small hoots echoed through the branches.

“Take a look at the sky,” Terrance suggested.

She gazed up at the planets floating in the vast vacuum of eternity.

“Sure makes a change from the observation deck.”

He smiled at the blonde haired lass and kissed her cheek.

“This way,” she whispered.

They had gone quite a distance when a sudden roar shook them back to reality.

“Must be mom again,” Terrance whispered.

They gazed through the darkness, but only the hoots could be heard now.

“She’s probably thinking it over,” Trudy said pulling him down.

“What do you want? A boy or girl?”

He thought this over for a minute or two.

“Actually I don’t mind as long as the kid is fit and healthy.”

“My thoughts too.”

Their lips met as warm arms wrapped around the mating couple. The animals watched out of curiosity, hooting to each other like voyeurs.

Overhead, shooting stars rushed across the silent sky as the first child was conceived.