Fire Ice

Austin asked Gu

Austin turned to Gamay. "What's our resident nautical archaeologist have to say about this old gal?"

Gamay pinched her chin in thought as she stared at the ghostly images on the glowing screen.

"My specialty was Greek and Roman wooden ships, and if you asked me to ID a bireme or a trireme I might be of more help. I'll venture a few guesses, though." The camera was moving along the midships section, where the rusty steel plating had buckled and was clear of barnacles. "Those are riveted steel plates. By the 1940s, shipbuilders had switched to welding. The booms indicate that she's probably a cargo ship. She's an old-timer, judging from her lines, maybe built in the late eighteen-hundreds or around the turn of the century."

Austin asked Gu

"Damage assessment, Rudi?" Austin said.

"From the way those edges are curled, I'd say a projectile hit the engine room. Too high for a torpedo. Probably a shell from a big gun."

"Who would sink a harmless old freighter?" Zavala asked.

"Maybe someone who thought she wasn't so harmless," Austin said. "Let's check out the cabin section that Ensign Kreisman told us about."

Gu

"Can we go inside?" Austin asked.

"I'm getting a side current that could make things tricky, but I'll see what I can do." Gu

"What do you think?" Gu

"I think anything of value has been removed. We'll have to piece together the story from the ship itself, not what's in it." He pointed to a wall shelf. "What's that?"

Austin's sharp eye had caught a dark, squarish object. Gu

"I'm bringing her up," he said. He reversed the ROV's direction and sent the vehicle scuttling back to the Argo. Minutes later, the lights of the moon pool appeared on the screen. The captain ordered the ROV's handlers to stabilize the artifact in seawater and send it to the vehicle control room. Soon a technician arrived, carrying a white plastic bucket. Gamay, whose background in nautical archaeology made her the most experienced conservator on board, asked for a soft brush. She removed the box from the bucket and gently placed it on the floor. Then, with soft strokes, she brushed a thumbnail patch of the black patina to reveal the gleam of metal.

"It's made of silver," she said, and continued to work until fifty percent of the top was cleaned. The metal was embossed with a double-headed eagle. Gamay examined the clasp. "I might be able to get this open, but I don't dare because I could destroy what's inside when it hits air. It may need intense conservation." She glanced at the captain.

"The Argo is primarily set up for biological and geological survey," Atwood said. "There's another NUMA ship called the Sea Hunter doing archaeological work not far from here. They might be able to help."

"I'm sure they can. I did some research on the Sea Hunter a couple of years ago," Austin said. "She's the sister ship of the Argo, isn't she?"

"That's right. The two vessels are almost identical."

"We should get this box there soon," Gamay said. "I'll stabilize it in seawater as best I can." She glanced with longing at the box. "Damn! Now I'm really curious about the contents."

"How about ru

Gamay carefully replaced the box in the bucket, and the technician carried it off. "You're brilliant," she said.

"You may not think so after you hear my next idea," Austin replied. He outlined his plan.

"Worth a try," Atwood said, and clicked on his hand radio. Before long the screen flickered into life and the moon pool appeared again. The ROV was being put back into the water. The dive was a repeat of the first, with the diver, bubbling foam and dark water.

Gu

The ROV made several attempts to clear away the barnacles. Newton's law of action-causing-reaction kicked in, and the brushing pushed the ROV away from the hull. The ship did not want to give up its identity without a fight. After forty-five minutes, they had succeeded in clearing away a patch about a foot in diameter. A portion of a letter embossed in white was visible. It could have been an O or any of several other letters.

"So much for brilliant ideas," Austin said.

Gu

"There's concretion under the marine growth," Gamay said. "That's why you can't brush the stuff away."

"Can you bang off another chunk?" Austin asked. He turned to the captain. "With your permission, of course."

Atwood shrugged. "Hell, I'm as curious about this old hulk as you are. If it takes a few dents in a piece of NUMA equipment to do the job, let's do it."