Pitt stood and looked up at the larger vessel, surveying its outward appearance. By maritime standards she was a small ship; eight hundred twenty tons, one hundred fifty-two feet in length overall. Her keel was originally laid on an oceangoing tug in the Dutch shipyards of Rotterdam before World War II. Immediately after the Germans invaded the lowlands, her crew slipped her away to England where she performed outstanding and meritorious service throughout the war, towing torpedoed and crippled ships into the British port of Liverpool under the noses of Nazi U-boats. After the end of European hostilities, her tired and battered hull was traded by the Dutch Government to the U.S. Navy, who promptly enlisted her in the mothball fleet at Olympia, Washington. There she sat for twenty-five long years, sleeping under a gray plastic cocoon. Then the newly formed National Underwater Marine Agency purchased her remains from the Navy and converted her to a modern oceanographic vessel, rechristening her the First Attempt.

Pitt squinted from the bright glare of the white paint, coating the ship from stem to stern staff. He climbed the boarding ladder and was greeted on the deck by an old friend, Commander Rudi Gunn, the skipper and project director of the ship.

"You look healthy," said Gunn unsmilingly, "except for your bloodshot eyes." He reached for a cigarette. Before he lit it, he offered one to Pitt, who shook his head and held up one in his hand.

"I hear you've got problems," said Pitt.

Gunn's face turned grim. "You're damn right I do," he snapped. "I didn't ask Admiral Sandecker to send you all the way from Washington just for fun and games."

Pitt's eyebrows went up in surprise. This sudden harshness did not fit Gunn. Under normal circumstances the little commander was a warm and humorous person. "Take it easy, Rudi," said Pitt softly. "Let's get out of the sun, and you can brief me on what this mess is all about."

Gunn removed his horn-rimmed glasses and rubbed a wrinkled handkerchief across his forehead. "I'm sorry, Dirk, it's just that I've never seen so many things go wrong at one time. It's highly frustrating after all the planning that went into this project. I guess it's beginning to make me irritable as hell. Even the crew has noticeably avoided me the last three days."

Pitt placed an arm on the shorter man's shoulders and grinned. "I promise not to avoid you even if you are a nasty little bastard."

Gunn looked blank for a moment, and then a sense of relief seemed to flood his eyes, and he flung back his head and laughed. "Thank God you're here." He gripped Pitt's arm tightly. "You may not solve any mysteries, but at least I'll feel a hell of a lot better just having you around." He turned and pointed toward the bow. "Come along, my cabin is up forward."