Santorini. Alistair MacLean

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СКАЧАТЬ all that. More. If I were laid low tomorrow you wouldn’t have to worry. He could take over the Ariadne at any moment and you wouldn’t notice the difference.’

      ‘From you, that’s worth any half-dozen testimonials. I’ll bear it in mind.’

      Introductions completed, Hawkins looked at Talbot and his four officers and said: ‘The first question in your minds, of course, gentlemen, is why I have brought two civilians with me. First I will tell you who they are and then, when I have explained the purpose of our coming, you will understand why they are here. In passing, I might say how extraordinarily lucky I am to have them here with me. They seldom leave their home state of California: it just so happened that both were attending an international conference in Rome.

      ‘Professor Alec Benson here.’ Benson was a large, calm man in his early sixties, grey of hair, cherubic and cheerful of countenance, and wearing a sports jacket, flannels and polo jersey, all of varying shades of grey and all so lived in, comfortable and crumpled that he could well have inherited them from his grandfather. ‘The Professor is the director of the seismological department of the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena. He’s also a geologist and vulcanologist. Anything that makes the earth bang or shake or move is his field. Regarded by everybody in that line as the world’s leading expert—he chaired, or was chairing until I so rudely interrupted him, an international conference in seismology in Rome. You all know, of course, what seismology is.’

      ‘A rough idea,’ Talbot said. ‘A kind of science—I think “study” would be a better word for it—of the causes and effects of earthquakes.’

      ‘A kind of science?’ Hawkins said. ‘I am distressed. It is a science.’

      ‘No offence meant, I’m sure, and none taken,’ Benson said equably. ‘The Commander is perfectly correct. Far from being a science, we’re still only dabbling on the periphery of the subject.’

      ‘Ah, well. Dr Wickram is a physicist, as well known in his own field as Professor Benson is in his. He specializes in nuclear physics.’

      Talbot looked at Dr Wickram who, in startling contrast to Benson, was thin, dark and immaculately dressed in a blue suit, white button-down collar and a black tie, the funereal hue of which went rather well with the habitual severity of his expression, and said: ‘Does your interest in nuclear physics extend to nuclear weaponry, Dr Wickram?’

      ‘Well, yes, it does rather.’

      ‘You and the Professor are to be congratulated. There should be some kind of civilian medal for this. Vice-Admiral Hawkins, of course, is acting in the line of duty. I would have thought you two gentlemen should have stayed in Rome. I mean, isn’t it safer there?’

      Hawkins cleared his throat. ‘You wouldn’t dream of stealing a superior officer’s thunder, would you?’

      ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.’

      ‘Well, to the point. Your two signals duly received. The first gave rise to some concern, the second was profoundly disturbing.’

      ‘The “tick…tick…tick” bit, sir?’

      ‘The “tick…tick…tick” bit. Both signals were sent to the Pentagon, the second one also going to the White House. I should imagine that the word consternation would suitably describe their reaction. Guessing, of course, but I think the speed of the reply to the second message showed how badly shaken they were. Normally, it can take forever—well, even months at times—to extract just a nugget of information from the Pentagon, but this time minutes only. When I read their reply, I could understand all too well.’ Hawkins paused, possibly for suitable dramatic effect.

      ‘So can I,’ Talbot said.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘If I were the Pentagon or the White House I’d be upset too if a US Air Force bomber or cargo plane, carrying a load of bombs, suddenly disappeared into the sea. Especially if the bombs—or missiles—that plane was carrying were of the nuclear variety. Even more especially if they were hydrogen bombs.’

      ‘Well, damn your eyes, Talbot, you do deprive ageing vice-admirals of the simpler pleasures of life. There goes my thunder.’

      ‘It wasn’t all that difficult, sir. We had already guessed it was a bomber. Civilian planes, with the exception of Concorde, don’t fly at the height at which we picked it up. We’d have had to be pretty stupid not to assume what we did. Bombers usually carry bombs. American reaction made it inevitable that it was an American plane. And you wouldn’t have come down here in such a tearing hurry, and be accompanied by an expert in nuclear weaponry, unless the bombs were of a rather nasty variety. I can’t imagine anything nastier than hydrogen bombs.’

      ‘Nor can anyone. When you put it the way you put it, I suppose I should have guessed that you had guessed. Even the Pentagon don’t know or won’t divulge what type of plane it was. They suggest an advanced design of the C.141 Starlifter cargo plane. It was refuelled in the Azores and heading for Greece. From your first message we gathered you saw the plane crash into the sea but couldn’t identify it. Why not?’

      ‘Number One, show the Admiral why not.’

      Van Gelder produced a sheaf of photographs and handed them to Hawkins who flipped through them quickly, and then, more slowly, a second time. He sighed and looked up.

      ‘Intriguing, I suppose, if you’re a connoisseur of the pattern effects of smoke and flame. I’m not. All I can make out is what I take to be the outer port engine and that’s no help at all. And it gives no indication as to the source or cause of the fire.’

      ‘I think Van Gelder would disagree with you, sir,’ Talbot said. ‘He’s of the opinion that the fire originated in the nose cone and was caused by an internal explosion. I agree with him. It certainly wasn’t brought down by ship-based anti-aircraft fire. We would have known. The only alternative is a heat-seeking missile. Two objections to that. Such a missile would have targeted on the engines, not the fuselage and, more importantly, there are no vessels in the area. Our radar would have picked them up. As a corollary to that, the missile didn’t come from an aircraft, either. The Admiral will not need reminding that the radar aboard the Ariadne is as advanced as any in the world.’

      ‘That may no longer be true, sir.’ Denholm’s tone was deferential but not hesitant. ‘And if it is true, then we can’t discount missiles just like that. This is not a dissenting opinion, I’m just exploring another possibility.’

      ‘Explore away, Lieutenant,’ Hawkins said. ‘Any light that can illumine the darkness of our ignorance, etcetera, etcetera.’

      ‘I’m not sure I’m all that good as a beacon, sir. I do know that I don’t go along with the belief that the Soviets always trail the West in technological advancement. Whether this belief is carefully and officially nurtured I do not know. I admit that the Soviets spend a certain amount of time and trouble in extracting military secrets from the West. I say “certain” because they don’t have to try all that hard: there appears to be a steady supply of scientists, both American and British, who, along with associates not necessarily involved in direct research at all, are perfectly willing to sell the Soviets anything they want—provided, that is, the price is right. I believe this to be true in the case of computers where they do lag behind the West: I do not believe it in the case of radar.

      ‘In this field, Plessey, of Britain, probably leads the West. They have developed a СКАЧАТЬ