Damage Control
by
Diane Farnsworth
Kachmar
*orig.
pub. Fathom #1
Chip
Morton held the scuba regulator tightly in his hand, wishing for another
option. If only there had been warning
of the shock wave. Chip ran a distracted
hair through his hair. He still felt
slightly dizzy from hitting the periscope island. The sudden starboard list and inrush of water
left no time to do anything but find the damage.
Lee had to free the valve in the next five minutes, or
they'd have too much water aft. There
wasn't time to organize damage control, or rig an air line to reach beyond the
damaged bulkhead. Crane had grabbed
tools, thrown open the hatch, and was in the ballast tank before Chip could
protest.
Morton
looked down into the murky waters of the ballast tank. Bubbles from Crane's underwater torch rose
slowly from behind the warped bulkhead to break on the surface. Chip looked at his watch. Still had time.
The
bubbling stopped, and Crane came around the bulkhead, rising up through the
water. His hand came up out of the
water, grabbing for the hatch rim. Lee
pulled himself up out of the water, gasping.
Chip
quickly shoved the regulator into Lee's mouth again. Crane dragged on it, taking several deep
breaths. Chip shifted, sliding his hand
under Crane's arm, holding him above the surface.
A
little color returned to Crane's features as he continued to breathe in the
oxygen. Lee pushed his face mask up and
removed the mouthpiece. "She's
loose," he reported, a little breathless.
"A few turns-- with the 3/16s-- should free it."
Chip
looked at his watch again. They might
make it yet.
The
Admiral and Sharkey were checking the port side valves -- "You okay?"
Crane
nodded, pushing his dark hair back. Lee
lifted the torch from his belt, and Chip took it, laying it on the deck. Crane picked up the wrench, resettling his
face mask into place. "I'll be back
before you know it."
"Sixty
seconds," Chip warned. "Or I'm
coming after you."
"Make
it seventy-five."
"After
four dives, sixty is all you get."
"Aye, sir." Lee took three
long drags from the scuba tank, then released the
mouthpiece, sinking once more into the murky depths of the tank. A few moments later, Chip heard metal clang
on metal, then a gurgling sound, as the valve cleared.
Chip
dropped the mouthpiece, scrambling to his feet.
He went to the circuits, pushing them in. They clicked this time, then
died. He reset, and pushed them in
again. A hum started beneath his feet,
moving in series as the pumps kicked in all down the line. At last. He checked his watch. Forty seconds.
Morton
turned back, expecting to find Crane at the hatch. He wasn't there. Chip ran back. The dark water remained undisturbed. No shadows, bubbles, nothing. Chip glanced at his watch. Eighty seconds.
Morton
stepped over the rim, and dropped into the murky water. Sinking down, he looked around for Lee's work
light. The glow came from in front of
him. He pushed off the tank wall, coming
around the warped bulkhead.
Lee
wasn't there, either. Chip dove down,
scooping up the light, and flashed it around the cramped tank. Something dark hovered above him.
Chip
dropped the light, kicking upward. His
outstretched hand hit limp flesh. He
grabbed Crane's arm roughly, pulling him around the bulkhead after him. Chip headed for the open hatch, suddenly
conscious of his straining lungs. He
lunged for the ladder with his free hand, feeling lightheaded.
He
grabbed a rung, and pulled himself up above the water. He wrapped his left leg around the ladder,
drawing Crane to him. Bracing, he
grabbed Lee's belt, boosting Crane up out of the tank and onto the deck. He then lifted Crane's trailing legs and
pushed Lee the rest of the way over the hatch.
Another
wave of dizziness washed over Chip.
Morton gritted his teeth, fighting it down. He swung himself over the rim, flopping down
next to Lee.
The
scuba mouthpiece caught his eye, and Chip grabbed it. He bit down on it, taking a deep draw to
clear his head. Then he placed his hand under Lee's neck,
tilting Crane's head back.
Lee's
chest rose slightly, and Chip pulled his jaw forward. Crane gasped, his mouth
twitching, as he took in air. Lee began
coughing, curling up into himself.
Chip
continued to take deep, steadying breaths from the scuba tank. He shifted position, using his free hand to
hold Crane's head back. Finally,
Morton's lightheadedness went away.
Lee moaned, rolling onto his side, as his coughing subsided. Chip removed the scuba mouthpiece and gently
placed it between Lee's teeth. Crane
latched on to it, drawing in the oxygen.
Chip
sidled closer, bracing Crane's head with his leg. After a few moments, Lee's eyes fluttered
open. His hand came up, feeling for the
scuba mouthpiece. His forehead furrowed.
"Easy." Chip laid his hand over Lee's to keep the
mouthpiece in. "Keep
breathing."
Lee
looked up at him, confusion in his amber eyes, then he
finally nodded. Crane's gaze traveled
over him, taking in Chip's soaked uniform.
Lee frowned again.
Morton
shrugged. "I didn't have a choice,
Lee. It was past time, and you hadn't
come up."
Crane's
eyes widened.
"Listen,"
Chip urged. "You cleared the valve."
Lee
raised his other hand, taking hold of Chip's arm. Chip leaned slightly away, bracing, as Lee
dragged himself up into a seated position.
Chip let go off the scuba mouthpiece as Crane's head fell forward. Morton watched his friend take a few more deep
breaths.
Crane
removed the mouthpiece, and tried to say something, but coughed instead.
"Steady." Chip caught Lee's shoulders, holding him up.
"I'm
all right." Crane let the
mouthpiece fall to the deck, his voice hoarse.
"I don't understand, I still had 30
seconds."
"You
apparently blacked out."
Lee
raised his head. "Then I'm lucky
you decided to come with me."
Chip
smiled. "That's my
job."
Crane
met his gaze, and smiled back.
"Skipper?" Kowalski's
voice came from the doorway. "Do
you need any help ...." He trailed off, his gaze taking in the open
hatch and their bedraggled state.
"The Admiral said to find you."
"It's okay, Ski," Chip replied. "Get on the intercom and report to
damage control. We cleared the jammed
valve. Stay here and make sure it keeps
working until the DCP gets here."
A
sudden clatter of feet in the corridor marked the arrival of damage control,
with Bronowski in the lead.
"All
pumps are working, sir," the Petty Officer reported.
"Good. Keep on it, chief," Chip replied.
"Aye, sir."
"Are
you all right, Skipper?" Kowalski
asked suddenly.
"Yes,
Ski." Lee sat up further,
straightening his shoulders. Chip eased
his grip slightly, but didn't let go.
"Let's
get back to the control room, Chip."
"Okay. We'll flip later to see who makes the
call."
Lee
smiled. "No need. I'll go as soon as the ship is out of
danger."
Chip
grinned. "Deal."
Crane
kept hold of his arm as Chip rose, using him as a lever to get his feet under
him. Once up, he was steadier than Chip
would have thought. Of course, the crew
was watching. That always made a
difference.
It
was two hours before they had enough water pumped out to restore buoyancy. Dry uniforms, brought by Boots Malone, made
Chip feel almost human again. Lee had
some color back, but still looked slightly rocky. It was time.
"C'mon, Lee. Bobby can handle it from
here."
Crane
looked up, his eyes going to the status board.
Apparently satisfied with the number of green lights, he put down his
clipboard. "B-deck?"
Chip
nodded. "Shouldn't
take long."
Jamieson
had several other patients when they arrived, most with ice packs, and a few
with casts. Chip had seen worse damage
from shock waves.
Jamieson
looked up from the arm he was splinting.
"I haven't had time to put together a report yet, Skipper."
Crane
nodded. "Don't worry about
it." Lee stopped next to the seaman
stretched out on the rack. "Feeling
better, Jenkins?"
"Yes, sir. Doc fixed me up good."
Crane
continued to walk around the room, talking to his crew.
Jamieson
finished wrapping the gauze. "Frank, who's next?"
"He's
the last one, Doc."
"Not
quite," Chip
gestured at Crane.
Jamieson's
eyes narrowed, giving Morton a once over.
"What did you two do this time?"
"Nothing,
I hope. But you'd better check him to
make sure."
"Lee." Jamieson's voice was half summons, half
request.
Crane
gave the crewman he was talking to a pat on the shoulder, then
walked over to an empty exam table. He
boosted himself up on it, and unbuttoned his top two shirt buttons.
"And when you're done
with me, you can check him."
Jamieson
walked over to the exam table, stethoscope in hand. "Okay, start from the beginning, and
don't leave anything out."
Chip
settled onto the exam table across from Lee.
They were going to be here a while.
The End