Larry Bond - Dangerous Ground

For the most part, the Russians left them alone. There were two settlements on Novaya Zemlya, both military bases. Supplies came into them by ship, but from the western side. If the Barents was the Russian Navy’s front step, the Kara was more like the side yard the kids never played in.

The watches, keyed up after their distant encounters with Russian units, started to get careless as monotony set in, and with Hardy’s concurrence, the XO started inserting synthetic contacts into the sonar and fire-control system. Hardy was merciless when the first contact was missed by the sonarmen for a full five minutes.

Once a day, Memphis carefully came to periscope depth to receive the Fleet broadcast. They would always extend the periscope with its ESM intercept antenna first, before raising one of the communication antennas, but it only picked up the fixed surveillance radars that lined the coast. Both the periscope and comms antenna were very small and were further treated with radar-absorbing material, so there was no chance of them being detected by the coastal stations.

They did find things. On Friday, the first full day of searching, on the second sortie of the day, the Manta’s sonar picked up a jumble of shapes on a smooth seabed, and Davis quickly launched one of the ROVs to investigate.

While Jerry’s Manta circled protectively, Huey photographed and sampled a previously unknown waste dump. At least one hundred, and maybe as many as two hundred steel waste cylinders littered a mile-square area. Half-buried in silt, Patterson and Davis estimated they’d been there thirty years or more. All were corroded, and some were cracked and obviously leaking.

Dr. Patterson could hardly contain her excitement as Davis methodically ran Huey’s camera over the canisters, then carefully sampled the seabed.

“Look at all this waste! And from the initial readings, some of it is spent fuel. There must be at least ten times the amount of highly radioactive material here than was released during the Chernobyl reactor incident. Over fifteen thousand cancer-related fatalities have been linked to that environmental disaster. If this stuff spreads, it will be much, much worse,” mused Patterson with awe in her voice. “If this wasn’t such a remote area, this would already be an international catastrophe.”

They also found a smaller site the next day on the fourth sortie. The Manta’s sonar return was even more confused. When one of Emily’s ROVs reached the location, its camera revealed a tangle of machinery, badly rusted, but only slightly radioactive. They were also nearly buried in silt, and it took some time for Emily, using the axial thruster, to uncover a cluster of 1970s-era machine tools. She used the ROV to photograph everything and sampled the seabed, but Patterson wanted to go further.

In the control room, she argued, “If we use the sample tube correctly, we may be able to bring back a small piece from one of the cutting surfaces. We could find out what materials they were machining.”

“How radioactive would the sample be?” Hardy demanded. Every sailor in the space was thinking the same question.

“Possibly quite radioactive” she answered excitedly. “Steel absorbs neutron radiation and becomes…”

“Yes, Doctor,” interrupted Hardy, “please remember we’re on a nuclear submarine. We’re familiar with the process.”

“Of course, Captain,” replied Patterson with a condescending tone. “The radiation hazard, as you know, is dependent on the type of steel. If it is plain carbon steel, the hazard is quite low, as most iron and carbon isotopes are beta emitters…”

“Electrons ejected from an isotope’s nucleus that can’t even penetrate a piece of paper,” Hardy said impatiently. “But if that machine out there worked on irradiated stainless steel, then that means the potential for cobalt-60, which has two very nasty gamma rays. And since the ROV is detecting some gamma activity, that should concern me very much, shouldn’t it, Doctor?”

Patterson, surprised by Hardy’s quick appreciation of the situation, was momentarily left speechless. She briefly stared at him, reassessing his abilities, as if she were evaluating a political opponent whom she respected. “You are correct, Captain. However, I believe the risk will be minimum and we should still attempt to gain a sample if we can.”

Hardy was adamant. “Very well, Doctor, but I’ll only allow it if the piece is not highly radioactive. If it is, I’ll have it thrown overboard in a heartbeat. I won’t allow my crew to be unnecessarily exposed to a significant radiation hazard and I don’t even want to think of what it would do to our radiation monitoring system.”

Patterson nodded to the phone talker, now merely a senior petty officer and not the Weapons Officer. After several sorties, Hardy had relaxed a little about Jerry’s abilities with the Manta, as well as Davis and her ROVs. The talker passed the decision on to Davis, who said she’d do what she could. As Huey’s camera zoomed in on a cutting tool, Patterson couldn’t bear to watch and headed for the torpedo room.

She arrived to find everyone manning their stations, but Emily Davis was the center of attention as she searched in the murky water for a piece small enough to fit in the sample container. Focused on the controls and the video display, she did not acknowledge Patterson’s presence until she spoke.

“Dr. Davis, you need to locate a small piece of steel. Make sure it’s not aluminum or plastic. And it has to be from a working surface, so it will have traces of whatever they were forming. And…”

“Doctor, I’m a little busy right now.” Davis said. She managed to mix both patience and frustration in her tone. “This ROV is not designed to retrieve pieces of metal. I don’t have a remote claw, much less a cutting tool, so I’m reduced to looking for pieces that broke or fell off the equipment when it hit the seabed. And since steel is denser than aluminum or plastic, it’s probably completely buried in the silt. And I don’t have a digging tool, either!” she finished sharply.

Patterson, taken aback, said, “I’m sure you’re doing your best.”

She didn’t say anything else, but did stay and watch as Davis maneuvered the ROV near the pile of junked tools. Time after time she approached and used the thrusters to move silt away from the machinery. Then she’d wait for the water to clear so she could search the bottom.

After many tries, they were unable to find anything, but Patterson had Davis continue the search until Duey’s battery ran low. Jerry was busy with the Manta, but he could see that Patterson was disappointed and argued with Emily briefly before leaving the torpedo room.

After the ROV was recovered, Jerry was waiting for the Manta, still twenty minutes away, which had been farther out. He asked Emily, “Why was that sample so important? What was she looking for?”

“Nothing specific,” Davis replied, “But she’s looking for a smoking gun. She doesn’t have what she needs yet.”

Jerry was confused. “But we’ve confirmed the information in those other surveys, and we’ve found more stuff the Soviets had dumped.”

Davis shook her head. “It’s not enough. The Russians cooperated with the surveys and admit they don’t know where everything is. Finding some of the old missing material is good, but that’s not going to make news.”

She stepped away from the ROV console and the torpedomen servicing Duey. She pulled Jerry aft to a quieter spot in the torpedo room. “I’ve learned this much from working with Dr. Patterson. The government and the media need an immediate threat. These dumpsites are all bad, very bad, but they’re not going to be a significant ecological problem for another twenty-five, maybe fifty years. President Huber can’t make headlines with a problem that’s half a century away.”