The Dragon in the Sea Read Online Free

6900 another. Learn to depend on your static pressure gauge. Now let’s go to the atmosphere composition. What’s a vampire gauge?”
    â€œA little device worn on your wrist during deep dives. Needle goes into your vein, tells you if your CO 2 diffusion is fast enough so you won’t crock out. It also tattles on nitrogen.”
    â€œWhat’s minimum diffusion?”
    â€œWhen you get below .200 on CO 2 you get the jeebies. If your blood CO 2 count goes to four percent you’re in trouble. With nitrogen it’s different. The subtug atmosphere is supposed to be entirely cleared of it. A small quantity of helium is substituted.”
    â€œHow do you get by with the high atmospheric pressure?”
    â€œAerobic carbonic anhydrase is fed into the atmosphere by the ventilator system. This speeds up the CO 2 loading and unloading of the blood, prevents gas bubbles forming.”
    â€œYou’re good on that. Did you know it before?”
    â€œMy emotional telemeter is just a glorified vampire gauge.”
    â€œOh, sure. Now, why is the electronics officer so important?”
    â€œContact with the exterior control motors is by coded wave pulse. If the E-system breaks down when a subtug is submerged, it stays submerged.”
    â€œRight. Now, let’s go through the plans again.”
    â€œNot again!”
    â€œStart with the reactor room. In detail.”
    â€œSlave driver!”

    The nightly hypnophone sessions flooded Ramsey’s mind with the new knowledge: pressure hull, resonating hull, tank hull … pressure compensating system … header box … reactor controls … search and sounding … diving plane controls … valve controls … pile check-off … sonoran automatic-navigation board … atmosphere controls … automatic timelog, Mark IX … external and internal TV eyes, specifications for servicing of … gyro controls … tow controls … plastic barge, oil, components of … needle torpedoes, external racking system … torpedo homing systems … scrambler systems … systems … systems … systems … .
    There were times when Ramsey’s head felt filled to the bursting point.
    Dr. Oberhausen appeared in Ramsey’s quarters on the fourth day of training. The doctor’s unpressed clothes gave him the appearance of a bedraggled robin. He came in quietly, sat down beside Ramsey, who was seated in a viewerscope-sequence training hookup.
    Ramsey pulled the fitted faceplate away from his eyes, turned to Dr. Oberhausen. “Ah, the chief of the inquisition.”
    â€œYou are comfortable, Johnny?” The sightless eyes seemed to stare through him.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œGood. You are not supposed to be comfortable.” The doctor’s chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “I have come about the man Garcia who is engineering officer of this crew.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with him?”
    â€œWrong? Have I said anything was wrong?”
    Ramsey completely disengaged the viewerscope, sat back. “Come to the point.”

    â€œAh, the impatience of youth.” Dr. Oberhausen sighed. “Do you have a file on Garcia?”
    â€œYou know I have.”
    â€œGet it please, and read me what you have.”
    Ramsey leaned to his right, took a file folder from the bottom ledge of his coffee table, opened it. Garcia’s picture on the inside front cover showed a short man—about five feet seven inches—slim. Latin features—dark. Black curly hair. Sardonic half smile. The picture managed to impart a sense of devil-may-care. Under the photograph a note in Ramsey’s handwriting: “Member Easton championship water-polo team. Likes handball.”
    â€œRead to me,” said Dr. Oberhausen.
    Ramsey turned the page, said, “Age thirty-nine. Came up from ranks. Ex-CPO machinist. Ham radio license. Born Puerto Madryn, Argentina. Father cattle rancher