The Dragon in the Sea by Frank Herbert

lowered, became almost inaudible. “‘He that smiteth a man, so that he die, shall be surely put to death. And if a man lie not in wait, but God deliver him into his hand; then I will appoint thee a place whither he shall flee. But if a man come
presumptuously upon his neighbour, to slay with guile; thou shalt take him from mine altar, that he may die.’”
    Across from him, Bonnett held up a tube. “Joe, what’s standard on a GR5?”
    Garcia glanced at Sparrow, who turned abruptly back to his examination of the board. “Eight ounces,” said Garcia.
    â€œThat’s what I make it,” said Bonnett. “But this one tops thirteen.” A tone of suppressed excitement vibrated in his voice.
    Sparrow looked aft, lips trembling.
    â€œI think I have one, Skipper,” said Bonnett.
    Garcia had stepped across to Bonnett’s side. He took the tube from the first officer.
    â€œThere should be a better way to live and a better way to die,” said Sparrow. He shuddered, stabbed a glance at Bonnett. “Well, set it aside and see if there are any more!”
    Bonnett appeared about to reply, but remained silent. He reclaimed the tube from Garcia, deposited it gently in a padded tray of his tool box.
    Sparrow passed a hand across his forehead. His head ached strangely. Is there a spy aboard? he asked himself. Is it Ramsey? Is it Les? Is it Joe? The EPs are hoping we lead them to the well. He looked blankly at the open wiring before him. Then why set off a tracer now? To test our alertness? The obvious time for a signal with be when we’re sitting on top of the well.
    A strange vibration inside his head distracted Sparrow. He was startled to discover he’d been grinding his teeth. When we’re sitting on the well! God help me! How will I prevent it? I can’t remain awake the whole time.
    â€œThat’s the last one,” said Garcia. He indicated a tube
which Sparrow had automatically placed in the balance scales.
    Sparrow shuddered, drew himself back to the present. “Put it back,” he said.
    Garcia complied.
    Sparrow looked at Bonnett. “Les, start checking the spares in E-stores.”
    â€œAye,” said Bonnett.
    Sparrow spoke to Garcia: “Stay on watch here.”
    Garcia nodded. “Are you going to rest, Skipper?”
    Sparrow shook his head from side to side. “No. No, I have to go back to the shack and help Ram—” He stopped, glanced at Garcia. “We’ve engaged the enemy and come through.” Sparrow stepped to the door leading aft. “I’m going to help Johnny check out the tubes in the shack.”
    â€œWhat about that?” Garcia indicated the tube Bonnett had left in the tray of his tool box.
    Sparrow returned, picked up the tube, went back to the door, examining the tube. “We’ll have a look. Maybe it’ll tell us something.” He glanced at Garcia. “You be thinking about how we can contact base.”
    He was gone through the door.
    Garcia clenched his fists, turned to face the master board. His gaze fell on the sonoran chart and its marker: a red insect creeping across vastness. Where? Where’s the well?
    Ramsey looked up from his instruments as Sparrow entered. “Anything new, Skipper?”
    â€œLes found this.” Sparrow placed the tube on the felt padding of Ramsey’s bench. “It’s five ounces over.”
    Ramsey looked at the tube without touching it. “Has it occurred to you that thing could be set to explode on tampering?”

    â€œSome of the old Salem sea captains used to attend their own funerals before embarking,” said Sparrow. “Figuratively, I’m in the same frame of mind.”
    â€œThat’s not what I mean,” said Ramsey. “A half ounce of nitrox could get us both. Maybe you’d better leave me alone with it.”
    Sparrow frowned, shrugged. He thumbed his chest mike: “Joe, Les—hear this.