The Dragon in the Sea Read Free Page A

notified.” Dr. Oberhausen lowered his voice. “You handled yourself very well in there.”
    Ramsey suddenly realized that he was allowing himself to be guided by a blind man. He laughed, found that he had to explain the laughter. “It was the way you handled that brassy commodore,” he said.
    â€œYou don’t lie at all well,” said Dr. Oberhausen. “But I’ll let it pass. Now, about the commodore: he’s a member of the board which passes upon promotions for BuPsych men.”
    Ensign Ramsey abruptly found that laughter had left him.
    Ramsey often referred to his five weeks’ training for the subtug mission as “The time I lost twenty pounds.”
    They gave him three rooms in the sound wing of Unadilla Naval Hospital: blank white enclosures furnished in rattan and cigarette-scarred mahogany, a functional TV set, equally functional hospital bed on high legs. One room was set up for training: hypnophone, wall diagrams, mockups, tapes, films.
    His wife, Janet, a blond nurse, received a weekend schedule for visits: Saturday nights and Sundays. Their children, John Junior, age two, and Peggy, age four, were not permitted in the hospital, had to be packed off to their grandmother’s at Fort Linton, Mississippi.
    Janet, wearing a one-piece red dress, came storming into
the sitting room of Ramsey’s suite on their first Saturday night. She kissed him, said, “I knew it!”
    â€œKnew what?”
    â€œThat sooner or later the Navy and that awful Obe would be regulating our sex life.”
    Ramsey, aware that everything he said and did in the hospital was being monitored, tried to shush her.
    â€œOh, I know they’re listening,” she said. She threw herself onto the rattan couch, crossed her legs, lighted a cigarette, which she puffed furiously. “That Obe gives me the creeking creeps,” she said.
    â€œThat’s because you let him,” said Ramsey.
    â€œAnd because that’s the effect he wants to give,” she countered.
    â€œWell … yes,” admitted Ramsey.
    Janet jumped to her feet, threw herself into his arms. “Oh, I’m being a fool. They said I wasn’t to upset you.”
    He kissed her, rumpled her hair. “I’m not upset.”
    â€œI told them I couldn’t upset you if I tried.” She pushed away from him. “Darling, what is it this time? Something dangerous? It isn’t another one of those horrible submarines?”
    â€œI’m going to be working with some oilmen,” he said.
    She smiled. “Oh, that doesn’t sound bad at all. Will you be drilling a well?”
    â€œThe well’s already drilled,” he said. “We’re going to see about increasing production.”
    Janet kissed his chin. “Old efficiency expert.”
    â€œLet’s go to dinner,” he said. “How’re the kids?”
    They went out, arm in arm, chatting about the children.
    Ramsey’s weekday routine began at 0500 when the nurse entered with his wake-up shot to rouse him from the
hypnophone drugs. High-protein breakfast. More shots. Blood test.
    â€œThis is going to hurt a little.”
    â€œOwooooooch! Whatta y’ mean a little? Next time warn me!”
    â€œDon’t be a big baby.”
    Diagrams. Floor plans of Hell Diver Class subtugs.
    They turned him over to a large subtug expert from Security. Clinton Reed. Bald as an egg. Thin eyes, thin nose, thin mouth, thick skin. Sense of duty as solid as his neck. Absolutely no sense of humor.
    â€œThis is important, Ramsey. You have to be able to go anywhere on this vessel, man any control blindfolded. We’ll have a mock-up for you in a couple of days. But first you have to get a picture of it in your mind. Try flashing these plans and then we’ll test your memory.”
    â€œOkay. I’ve finished the general layout. Try me.”
    â€œWhere’s the pile room?”
    â€œAsk me something