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...