Dinner was crab-stuffed flounder. If it was going to be like this for however long the voyage took … Jerry was sure he’d never eaten so well for as long as that before, and wondered whether he ever would again. Enjoy it while it lasts, he told himself, which seemed a good rule most of the time.

After he finished—he made himself skip dessert—he thought about finding out which movie the little theater was showing. Before he could separate himself from Steve, though, the older man said, “You want to come with me, see something that might interest you?”

It sounded like an ordinary question. Jerry realized it was really an order, though; his old man talked that way a lot of the time. He nodded agreeably. “I’m putty in your hands. Silly Putty, probably.”

Steve let out a small snort. “Whatever else you do, you should stick with your writing. The left-handed way you think, I bet you can make a go of it.”

“That’d be nice.” A beat later, Jerry added, “Thanks.”

“I meant it,” Steve said. “C’mon.” He headed off like a man who knew exactly where he was going. All of a sudden, he didn’t seem confused about where things were or need to look at signs. Jerry followed, wondering what else the man from the RAND Corporation was sandbagging about.

The Glomar Explorer held a couple of dozen of what looked like cargo containers, the kind that went on freighters and then got loaded onto truck trailers to get where they needed to go. They were maybe twenty by eight by eight. The only thing that made them unusual for containers was that each had a door in the front.

Steve stopped in front of one with SPECIAL MEASUREMENTS stenciled on to the door. Jerry eyed that. It might have meant anything or nothing … which, he suspected, was exactly the point. Unlike most of the others, the door also had a keypad next to it that reminded him of the ones at his apartment building and Anna’s.

But the code Steve punched in was longer than three digits. The latch clicked instead of buzzing. As Steve opened the door, he said, “I’ll teach you the entry number. What’s in here is a big part of why you’re along. Memorize the number. Don’t write it down, not anywhere.”

“However you say. I can do that.” Jerry followed Steve into the Special Measurements container.

“It’s important.” Steve flicked a switch. Bluish ceiling-mounted fluorescent tubes came to life, buzzing faintly. Only after the door closed did the older man say, “I mean it. We’ve got this whole story to keep the Russians from figuring out we’re raising their submarine.”

“I know,” Jerry said. “I signed all those papers that promised I’d go to Leavenworth if I ever opened my mouth about that. Hell, you were there.”