There is something.

Name it."

"Could your crew do a quick repaint of the Sea Dog II? The NUMA turquoise trademark color is highly visible in shallow water from the surface."

"What color would you like?" asked Hanley. "A medium green," explained Pitt, "a shade that blends with the water in the harbor."

"I'll get my boys on it first thing." Hanley turned and leaned against the rail with his back, staring up at the wisp of smoke drifting from the ship's funnel. "Seems to me it might have been a whole lot simpler to use one of them underwater robotic vehicles."

"Or an autonomous underwater vehicle," said Pitt, smiling. "Neither would prove as efficient as a manned submersible for inspecting the bottom of a hull the size of the United States. The sub's manipulator arm may also prove useful. There are certain projects where human eyesight is advantageous over video cameras. This happens to be one of them."

Hanley read the dial of an old pocket watch whose chain was hooked to a belt loop. "Time to program the engine and navigation systems. Now that we've reached open water, the chairman will want to triple our speed."

"We must be doing close to nine or ten knots now," said Pitt, his curiosity piqued.

"Strictly a performance," Hanley said candidly. "Whenever the old Oregon is in sight of prying eyes around the harbor or other ships that pass at sea, we like to make her look as if her antique engines and screws are straining to make headway. Which is the way she should appear for an old tub. In truth, she's been modified with two screws turned by twin diesel turbine engines that can push her past forty knots."

"But with a full load of cargo, your hull is riding low in the water and causing a heavy drag."

Hanley tilted his head toward the cargo hatches and the wooden crates tied to the deck. "All empty. We ride low because we fill specially installed ballast tanks to give the appearance of a heavily laden ship. Once they're pumped out, she'll rise six feet and take off four times faster than when she was built."

"A fox in disguise."

"With the teeth to match. Ask Chairman Cabrillo to show you how we bite back if we're attacked."

"I'll do that."

"Good night, Mr. Pitt."

"Good night, Mr. Hanley."

Ten minutes later Pitt felt the ship come to life as the vibrations from the engines increased dramatically. The wake turned from a white spreading scar to a boiling cauldron. The stern sank by a good three feet, the bow raised in an equal proportion and creamed white. The water rushed along the hull as if swept away by a giant broom. The sea shimmered under an awning of stars that outlined a scattering of thunderclouds on the horizon. It was a postcard South China Sea evening with an orange-tinted sky to the west.