Chapters (95)
- ALSO BY CLIVE CUSSLER
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT
- CONTENTS
- MAP
- PROLOGUE: BARBARIGO
- PART I: POSEIDON’S ARROW
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- PART II: RARE EARTH
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- PART III: PANAMA RUN
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- EPILOGUE: RED DEATH
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
“Sure, but probably only to Carl and Manny. He said the Mumm was from a champagne he liked. He talked a lot about speed and bubbles in attacking the supercavitation issue, so that must be the connection.”
“Tell us about your facility here,” Ann said.
“Heiland practically built the place. His family had a cabin here on Lake Pend Oreille, so he fell in love with the area.”
Pitt noticed he pronounced the lake’s name “Pond-o-ray.”
“When he headed up acoustics at the Naval Surface Warfare Center,” Nichols continued, “he convinced the brass in Washington to open an offshoot research lab here, using some remnants from the old Farragut naval base. He pretty much built it all from scratch. About ten or twelve years ago, he grew tired of the day-to-day management and decided to retire. That’s when he started his consulting business. Carl was always an engineer first.”
“You’re a long way from blue water,” Pitt said.
“Yes, but the lake is an ideal testing ground. It’s large, lightly populated, and features depths of over a thousand feet. Our work here focuses on research in advanced hull and propulsion designs—ones that allow for submarines to operate with a minimum acoustic signature. The lake is a nearly perfect controlled environment in which to test new designs and technologies.”
“The Sea Jet being a test platform?” Pitt asked.
“Exactly,” Nichols said. “It’s what we call an Advanced Electric Ship Demonstrator. Though it looks a bit like a submarine, it is actually a quarter-scale model of the new DD(X) class of destroyer. We’ve used it to experiment with some radical new hull designs and propulsion systems. It was originally built with waterjet propulsion, but we’ve migrated to some other technologies I probably shouldn’t talk about. We were scheduled to test Carl’s latest tinkering related to the Sea Arrow project, but we’re at somewhat of a loss there now.”
“The technology in the Slippery Mumm?” Ann asked.
“Yes. He was here testing it in the lake just a few weeks ago. I remember him telling the boys that he was really going to be scaring the fish with it. A couple of the fellows were out on the lake at the time and they claimed he was registering some crazy speeds.”
“Didn’t he work on it here at the facility?”
“Not much. He’d come in and run things on our computers, but he was always three steps ahead of us. When he was in town, he was usually holed up at his cabin with Manny, tinkering away.”
“It’s important that we find and secure all of his research related to the Slippery Mumm,” Ann said.