Dragon (Dirk Pitt 10)

"And now that they're drifting through the detonation area?" Morton persisted.

"Due to the high winds and turbulent seas during and immediately after the explosion," Hauser explained patiently, "the worst of the radiation was carried into the atmosphere and far to the east. They should be within safe limits where they are."

The compartment phone gave off a soft hi-tech chime. Hauser picked, it up. "Yes?"

"Is the captain there, sir?"

"Hold on." He handed the receiver to Morton.

"This is the captain."

"Sir, Sonarman Kaiser. I have a contact. I think you should listen to it."

"Be right there." Morton hung up the phone, wondering abstractedly why Kaiser didn't routinely call over the intercom.

The commander found Sonarman First Class Richard Kaiser leaning over his console listening through his earphones, a bewildered expression furrowing his brow. Morton's executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Ken Fazio, was pressing a spare set of phones against his ears. He looked downright dumbstruck.

"You have a contact?" asked Morton.

Kaiser didn't answer immediately but went on listening for a few more moments. At last he pulled up the phone over his left ear and muttered, "This is crazy."

"Crazy?"

"I'm getting a signal that shouldn't be."

Fazio shook his head as if agreeing. "Beats me."

"Care to let me in on your secret?" Morton asked impatiently.

"I'll put it on the speaker," said Kaiser.

Morton and several officers and men who had received the news of a strange contact by osmosis gathered around the sonar enclosure, staring up at the speaker expectantly. The sounds were not perfect but they were clear enough to be understood. No high-pitched squeak of whales, no whirring crick of propeller cavitation, but rather voices singing.

And every night

when the starfish came out.

I'd hug and kiss her so.

Oh, what a time I had

with Minnie the Mermaid

Down in her seamy bungalow.

Morton fixed Kaiser with a cold stare. "What's the gag?"

"No gag, sir."

"It must be coming from that Chinese junk."

"No, sir, not the junk or any other surface vessel."

"Another submarine?" Morton inquired skeptically. "A Russian maybe?"

"Not unless they're building them ten times tougher than ours," said Fazio.

"What range and bearing?" Morton demanded.