Polaris by Todd Tucker Page A

drifted between the two bars on the screen, perfectly centered. In a box on the right hand of the screen, Pete saw the ship’s acceleration in all three dimensions, and watched carefully to see if he would need to add a small rudder angle to counteract a stray current.
    â€œNice driving,” said Moody, looking at him with a smile.
    â€œThank you, ma’am,” he said. The back of Frank’s neck turned red.
    There was a moment of concern as they drifted inside the range and nothing happened. Pete worried that it had been disabled, either by the relentless destructive power of the ocean and nature, or by an act of war. But then suddenly, the lights in the control room dimmed, and a dozen new alarms went off as the ship was engulfed by a powerful magnetic field.
    â€œThe range is active!” said Moody. “It’s working!” Frank was leaning forward, cutting out the alarms that had sounded as a result. Pete could almost feel the effect upon them, stretching the magnetic field of the Polaris into line with brute, electric force, making them invisible in at least one, crucial way. Frank ably managed their depth as they continued to drift through, no easy feat as the ship’s speed continued to decrease, making ship control difficult.
    â€œWe’re clear of the range,” said Moody as they passed beyond the two bright lines on the console. Their speed had dropped to under three knots. Pete confirmed on the screen in front of him that they had drifted completely through.
    â€œAhead one-third,” said Hamlin. “Make your depth eight-five feet.”
    They repeated the process of going to periscope depth. As the scope broke through, Pete immediately turned the ship’s single eye upward.
    A dozen drones swooped around them in circles, their electronic brains excited by the recent sighting. They swooped, dived, and circled around, many of them virtually buzzing their periscope. But none of them attacked.
    â€œCaptain,” said Hamlin, “the ship has been successfully degaussed.”
    â€œVery well,” she said. “Take us deep and report to my stateroom for debriefing.”
    *   *   *
    Carlson and Banach watched the Polaris slow and go deep in front of them, immediately after her strange, short trip to periscope depth. They’d done nothing at PD, didn’t shoot trash or broadcast a message. The only thing they seemed to accomplish was attract a swarm of drones, which quickly developed attack formations, forcing the Polaris underwater just in time.
    More precisely, they listened, as they heard the hull popping of a ship descending and the slowing of the ship’s main reduction gear.
    â€œWhat are they up to?”
    Carlson shook her head. “I have no idea. They are very deep. Almost to the bottom.”
    Banach took the two strides necessary to get to the other side of the control room, checked the chart. “Are they trying to lose us?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” she said. “They seem to have other things on their mind.”
    â€œCan our friend onboard tell us anything?”
    She shook her head, frustrated. “Haven’t heard from him lately. That would make this entirely too easy.”
    She walked over to the cramped corner of the control room where Banach stood, where the chart was spread out. In the lower corner of the chart was Eris Island. They’d followed the Polaris up here, to the opposite corner, to a spot that was strangely featureless on the chart, devoid of geological marks or even soundings.
    â€œStay at this depth, and slow,” she said. “Let’s see what they are up to.”
    They drifted closer, staying about a mile away, waiting to see what happened. She tried to visualize what they were doing as they slowed almost to a standstill, drifting forward at a speed of just a few knots. She thought about their man onboard, wondered if he was still alive. Maybe he’d