Ramius lifted the phone.  It was a moment before the other end was picked up.  "What has happened, Comrade?"  The control room crew watched their captain listen to the answer.  They could not help but admire his calm.  Radiation alarms had sounded throughout the hull.  "Very well.  We do not have too many hours of battery power left, Comrade.  We must go to snorkling depth.  Stand by to activate the diesel.  Yes."  He hung up.

"Comrades, you will listen to me."  Ramius' voice was under total control.  "There has been a minor failure in the reactor control systems.  The alarm you heard was not a major radiation leak, but rather a failure of the reactor rod control systems.  Comrades Melekhin and Surzpoi successfully executed an emergency reactor shutdown, but we cannot operate the reactor properly without the primary controls.  We will, therefore, complete our cruise on diesel power.  Te ensure against any possible radiation contamination, the reactor spaces have been isolated, and all compartments, engineering spaces first, will be vented with surface air when we snorkle.  Kamarov, you will go aft to work the environmental controls.  I will take the conn."

"Aye, Comrade Captain!"  Kamarov went aft.

Ramius lifted the microphone to give this news to the crew.  Everyone was waiting for something.  Forward, some crewmen muttered among themselves that minor was a word suffering from overuse, that nuclear submarines did not run on diesel and ventilate with surface air for the hell of it.

Finished with his terse announcement, Ramius ordered the submarine to approach the surface.

The Dallas

"Beats me, Skipper."  Jones shook his head.  "Reactor noises have stopped, pumps are cut way back, but he's running at the same speed, just like before.  On battery, I guess."

"Must be a hell of a battery system to drive something that big this fast," Mancuso observed.

"I did some computations on that a few hours ago."  Jones held up his pad.  "This is based on the Typhoon hull, with a nice slick hull coefficient, so it's probably conservative."

"Where did you learn to do this, Jonesy?"

"Mr. Thompson looked up the hydrodynamic stuff for me.  The electrical end is fairly simple.  He might have something exotic—fuel cells, maybe.  If not, if he's running ordinary batteries, he has enough raw electrical power to crank every car in L.A."

Mancuso shook his head.  "Can't last forever."

Jones held up his hand.  "Hull creaking . . .Sounds like he's going up some."

The Red October

"Raise snorkle," Ramius said.  Looking through the periscope he verified that the snorkle was up.  "Well, no other ships in view.  That is good news.  I think we have lost our imperialist hunters.  Raise the ESM antenna.  Let's be sure no enemy aircraft are lurking about with their radars."

"Clear, Comrade Captain."  Bugayev was manning the ESM board.  "Nothing at all, not even airline sets."