“Welcome aboard the Hawes, Dr. Johnson. How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Norman said.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. You came from San Diego?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s fifteen hours, give or take. Like to have a rest?”

“I’d like to know what’s going on,” Norman said.

“Perfectly understandable.” Barnes nodded. “What’d they tell you?”

“Who?”

“The men who picked you up in San Diego, the men who flew you out here, the men in Guam. Whatever.”

“They didn’t tell me anything.”

“And did you see any reporters, any press?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Barnes smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He waved Norman to a seat. Norman sat gratefully. “How about some coffee?” Barnes said, moving to a coffee maker behind his desk, and then the lights went out. The room was dark except for the light that streamed in from a side porthole.

“God damn it!” Barnes said. “Not again. Emerson! Emerson!”

An ensign came in a side door. “Sir! Working on it, Captain.”

“What was it this time?”

“Blew out in ROV Bay 2, sir.”

“I thought we added extra lines to Bay 2.”

“Apparently they overloaded anyway, sir.”

“I want this fixed now, Emerson!”

“We hope to have it solved soon, sir.”

The door closed; Barnes sat back in his chair. Norman heard the voice in the darkness. “It’s not really their fault,” he said. “These ships weren’t built for the kind of power loads we put on them now, and-ah, there we are.” The lights came back on. Barnes smiled. “Did you say you wanted coffee, Dr. Johnson?”

“Black is fine,” Norman said.

Barnes poured him a mug. “Anyway, I’m relieved you didn’t talk to anybody. In my job, Dr. Johnson, security is the biggest worry. Especially on a thing like this. If word gets out about this site, we’ll have all kinds of problems. And so many people are involved now… Hell, CincComPac didn’t even want to give me destroyers until I started talking about Soviet submarine reconnaissance. The next thing, I get four, then eight destroyers.”