Piranha

Bastian nodded.

“I’d like to join the next patrol flight,” added Stoner.

“The Taiwanese spy ships that have been tracking the submarine, I want to find out about them. I think there’s some operation under way.”

“They’re not part of our mission.”

“Their goal isn’t peace, or coexistence with the Mainland. They want the same thing the Communists want—one China. They just want it on their terms.”

“That may be,” said the colonel. “But at the moment, that’s not our concern.”

“I won’t be just a passenger. There’s no one here who knows more about Chinese and Indian capabilities than I do. I’m the one who found Kali. I’d be very useful tracking the Chinese submarines.”

“Okay,” said Bastian finally. “Work it out with Captain Stockard. Stoner—” Bastian pointed a finger at him. “This operation ultimately answers to Admiral Woods, not me.”

“Took him longer to kick you out than I expected,” said the CIA officer. “He must like you.”

Aboard the Dragon Ship in the South China Sea

1326

Chen Lo Fa

And, of course, there was no place for a pilot.

Chen turned and looked at the horizon while Professor Ai conferred with some of his technicians. The water had a dark green tint to it today; he felt a fresh storm approaching.

In a hundred years, no one would remember the weather or the color of the sea. They would think only of the destruction wrought as the two Navies met.

A storm indeed.

One of the men assigned to relay messages approached as Chen stared out at the water.

“Yes” he asked without turning.

The man held out a slip of paper. Chen let his eyes linger, then turned and took the message.

The captain of one of the trawlers had seen the American Megafortresses drop an unknown type of buoy into the water. Photos of the buoy did not match any of the ASW types the Americans typically used. Interestingly, the trawler—equipped with an array of high-tech snooping gear that worked both under and above the water—had been unable to pick up any transmissions to or from that buoy, or a second one dropped sometime later, at least not at the distance he had been ordered to stay from any American asset. The captain wanted permission to investigate, and perhaps retrieve one of the buoys if the opportunity presented itself.

Chen weighed the matter. Despite being allies, the Americans were hardly forthcoming when it came to sharing new technology. The appearance of the EB-52’s—which had not been used in marine patrol or ASW roles before—surely meant they were using some new device. Whatever it was—a passive sonar system perhaps?—would be of great value in dealing with the Communists.

He would not, and could not, provoke an incident with the Americans. But surely this was worth studying. What if he snatched the device, then claimed to have thought it was a Mainland weapon?

In the confusion of battle, such an explanation would be accepted, if only reluctantly. In such a case, the asset would be returned—after it was examined, of course.

Chen took a pen and wrote his orders to the captain, telling his to proceed. He handed the message back to the courier, who immediately retreated for the radio room.

“Ready, Commander,” said Professor AI, who’d been waiting.

“Then begin.”

Fa

For Chen, the elation would come later, much later—he hoped to see one of the carriers in flames before the end of the day.

Professor Ai looked at him, and Fa

There was a loud grinding noise. Someone shouted. Smoke appeared from the crane house. Professor Ai leaped toward the robot cursing.

Fa

Who was riding the donkey now? Which way did Fortune blow?

“It’s a problem with the crane,” said the scientist a few minutes later.

“Yes.”

“We have to use the backup.”