Jermain saw Lieutenant Oxley and his senior sonar rating, Petty Officer Irons, walking towards him, the latter carrying the leather case of the exercise reports. Oxley was wearing sunglasses but his down-turned mouth showed his irritation and resentment only too dearly.

  He saluted in his usual casual manner. ‘They’ve finished with me, sir.’ He gestured towards the main building. ‘I’ve been in Sleepy Hollow for two hours with the brains of the operations staff, and now I feel as dim as they are!’ He forced a grin. ‘I still don’t know if they accept my report.’

  Irons said respectfully, ‘They ran the rule over me an’ all, sir.’

  Jermain felt the pent-up strain changing to bitter indignation as he listened. It was like being at school again. Like a mischievous, over-imaginative child.

  He said, ‘I’m going in myself now.’

  Oxley shrugged. ‘Good luck, sir. I’ll be at the Tang-Lin Club for a bit if you’d like to meet me later on? Perhaps I could help to smooth away the wrinkles of pique?’

  Jermain smiled tightly. ‘I’ll see. And thanks.’ He walked on, and when he turned the comer he saw they were still staring after him.

  What did Oxley really think? he wondered. Did he blame him for this damned enquiry? It might prove to be a slur on him as much as himself.

  He slammed angrily through a swing door and into the glacier chill of the air-conditioning before an orderly could open it for him. More stairs, following the neat signs and attentive orderlies. Everyone seemed to be watching him, yet avoiding his eye, and the realisation only added to his mounting anger.

  A cool Wren officer stood up from her desk and meaningly glanced at her watch. ‘This way, sir.’ She smoothed down her jacket. ‘The admiral is waiting for you.’

  Jermain stared at her slim shoulders. Go on, you bitch! Just tell me I’m late! But she opened the double doors and said evenly, ‘Commander Jermain, sir.’

  The room was very wide and very quiet. Even the overhead fans seemed muted, and the distant sound of traffic was a discreet murmur.

  Sir John Colquhoun was perched on the comer of one of the big map tables, and a stout captain whom Jermain recognised as the C.-in-C.’s Chief of Staff sat behind a littered desk. The Captain S/M was also there and gave Jermain a quick smile of encouragement.

  The admiral looked more relaxed and much calmer than he had appeared aboard the submarine. His white uniform was perfect and his face shone as if from a cold shower. He nodded briskly. ‘As you can see, Jermain, the C.-in-C.’s not aboard. He’s up country on tour as it happens, but I think I can deal with this Unfortunate affair.’

  Jermain relaxed slightly. So this was how it was to be.

  He said formally, ‘I apologise for being late, sir. I was delayed by…’

  Sir John shook his head. ‘Late? I hadn’t noticed. Ah well, I suppose it takes time to get used to a place.’

  The Chief of Staff sighed. ‘I’ve been over your report, Jermain. Very interesting indeed.’ He tapped the open folio. ‘I am with it until the moment of surfacing, and then I think we’re all in the dark. But of course it’s not new for a warship of any kind to be fired on. The Chinese like playing at pirates!’ He frowned. ‘However, I am a bit worried about the sonar contact. I understand that your sonar department is a bit green and could quite likely have got ruffled.’ He glanced briefly at the admiral. ‘I know myself what it’s like in a new boat, and with half the Americans watching for a cock-up!’

  The admiral snapped, ‘Yes, I think we can discount the contact entirely.’

  Jermain swayed back slightly on his heels. ‘I disagree, sir. The contact was positive. It was a submarine.’

  The captain looked down at his desk. ‘I see.’

  Jermain hurried on. ‘Which means in my view one of two things. Either the Chinese were on an exercise and using the Polaris boat as a target, or,’ he looked directly at the admiral, ‘they were in deadly earnest I’

  The admiral began to swing one leg quickly across the other. ‘Are you trying to suggest that the Red Chinese would attack a Polaris boat, Jermain?’

  The Captain S/M shook his head very imperceptibly but Jermain ignored him. It was too late now. It was all or nothing.

  ‘That’s about the strength of it, sir.’

  The Chief of Staff spread his hands and said, ‘But don’t you think the Americans were aware of all these risks when they selected this area for an exercise?’ He looked up, scowling. ‘They’re not fools, you know!’

  ‘I know, sir.’ Jermain saw the disbelief in the man’s eyes and added stubbornly, ‘In my opinion the Americans were only on an exercise up to a point. I think that the Polaris submarine was on her normal combat station and that we were the ones on exercise!’

  The Chief of Staff stood up and began to pace in front of the wall maps. ‘So it all hinges on your contact. Out of that assumption you make this statement that the Reds were likely to have a crack at a Polaris boat, and in addition the Americans are deliberately keeping us in the dark, right?’

  ‘That’s about it, sir.’ Jermain felt the anger giving way to despair. They did not want to believe him, and on the face of it he could hardly blame them.

  The Captain S/M said quietly, ‘Boats from my squadron have sometimes been in that area. I must admit that this idea of yours is new to me.’ He looked unhappy and added, ‘After all, Jermain, your boat is equipped with the best sonar in the world, and the attacking submarine you say you detected was an ordinary conventional boat. Now how could such a boat hope to get near a nuclear one without being discovered long before she got in range? Even supposing the Temeraire had not been there at all, the American boat would surely have pipped her and made off at full speed?’ He forced a smile. ‘I know I’m old-fashioned, Jermain, but just give me one good explanation.’

  Jermain felt tired. ‘I can’t, sir. I can only give you the facts as I have been taught to translate them.’

  The admiral closed his eyes and rocked gently on the table. ‘I don’t like to say this, Jermain, but it has to be said. There is a great difference between the tactics table and real life. Only experience and time can give you the definite eye for the chance, the possibility. Until that time you must rely only on your present reserve of ability and training.’

  The Chief of Staff glanced at his clock. ‘This is what I propose to do. The Temeraire will re-provision and make good any damage and defects during the next few days. Lieutenant Victor’s remains can be flown back to U.K. on the next available plane, as we don’t want a lot of unnecessary publicity out here.’ He knitted his brow in concentration. ‘Mr. Conway and his party are still on the base, and this sort of thing won’t help him to placate the Singapore government when he’s trying to put his case. As you know, Jermain, Conway intends to pare down this command both from the point of view of forces as well as commitments. The Malaysian set-up has changed fast, and although they want our protection they won’t want us to provoke their neighbours, the Red Chinese.’ He closed the folio with a snap. ‘I must say, I agree with them.’

  Jermain heard himself ask, ‘And what about the emergency? I was sent here because of it.’

  The admiral yawned. ‘Well, of course that is another matter. The Chinese are moving ships and men into North Korea, or at least the Americans seem to think so. That’s really their problem at the moment.’ He waved a hand across the charts. ‘We have to show our strength in a different way. We must indicate that we are with the Americans, but not of them. Our image must be stability.’ He smiled. ‘I like that.’ He repeated it half to himself and then added sharply, ‘So that covers it, I think. Temeraire will await fresh orders. In the meantime I will draft my own report for the pundits of Whitehall, and one for the U.S. Navy. I shall state firmly that your boat did all that was expected, but that whilst surfacing to clear away a fouled fishing cable you were fired on by some unknown vessel and incurred the death of an officer. They are the facts. There is nothing else to add.’ He paused and frowned meaningly. ‘At this stage!’

  They were all watching him. Jermain kept his face calm in spite of his inner feelings. ‘Is that all, sir?’

  ‘For the present.’ The Chief of Staff ruffled his papers. ‘In the meantime you will pay special attention to internal security and make sure your men behave themselves ashore. Singapore is crawling with spies and informers as well as ordinary trouble-makers. As soon as you are ready for sea again I will draft some new orders. You will no doubt be going north to work with the Americans for a bit. But all that is confidential.’

  The Captain S/M added swiftly, ‘My men will do all they can to help, Jermain.’

  Jermain thought of his silent crew and the hasty leave-taking from Scotland. And all for this! To be used as a status symbol. He recalled too with sudden clarity the senior American officer under whom he had studied when he had first started his training for nuclear submarines.

  The officer had rasped ‘You’ll be awed and goddamned afraid when you start. Then one day you’ll command a boat of your own. When that happens you might think you’ve made it, that you’re one of God’s disciples!’ He had leaned on his desk and glared at the class. ‘The nuclear submarine is a weapon, not a possession or a mark of your own damn prowess! Learn to use it as a weapon! Ride it, and take charge of it! By the time you take control you should be ready to throw it about like a goddamn rifle!’

  He answered flatly, ‘And my own report, sir. What will happen to that?’

  The admiral stood up, his face expressionless. ‘I cannot say how it will be received. No doubt Their Lordships will treat the matter with fairness in view of your record and your, er, comparative inexperience in these waters.’

  It was over. Jermain turned on his heel and walked back through the doors.

  The Wren officer said, ‘There’s a message for you, Commander. Mr. Conway would like to see you at his house this evening.’ She held out a scrap of paper. ‘It’s all on there.’

  Jermain stared unseeingly at the neat writing. Now Conway would want to stick his oar in. Well, if he asks me what I think, I shall tell him!

  The Wren said, ‘Was it rough, Commander?’

  Jermain turned angrily and then checked himself. The Wren was quite pretty, and she sounded as if she cared. He replied, ‘I was impressed.’

  She smiled and turned away as the telephone began to ring. Over her shoulder she remarked quietly, ‘But not, I suspect, convinced!’

  *  *  *

  Jermain signed the last of the official letters and leaned back in his chair. At the other side of the small cabin Wolfe sat in silence, his eyes moving restlessly across the pile of signals on the desk.

  The Temeraire felt deserted and dead, and only the purring fans gave any hint of activity outside the cabin. The libertymen were ashore along with most of the officers, and with the reactor cool and run down only the minimum of machinery was kept running.

  Jermain said wearily, ‘That’s the lot for the moment. I’ve made a signal to Flag Officer Submarines requesting a replacement for Victor, though God knows when he’ll arrive, or where we’ll be when he does!’ He waited for some sort of response but Wolfe remained silent and watchful. He seemed too relaxed, too controlled, Jermain thought. It was as if he had lost or deliberately erased all his old personality and only his outward appearance remained the same. He added, ‘You feeling all right, Number One?’

  Wolfe stirred himself. ‘Good enough.’

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t take you with me on this visit to Conway’s place. I could do with a friendly face.’ He straightened his fresh drill uniform and dragged his eyes from the neat bunk. He would far rather spend a few hours on his back, he thought.

  Wolfe said flatly, ‘I may take a run ashore later, when it’s cooler.’ He sounded indifferent. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll get much further than the Officers’ Club.’

  Jermain toyed with his pen. ‘I haven’t mentioned it before, Ian, but are you still brooding about Sarah?’ He saw the caution creep into Wolfe’s eyes. ‘You should try and make a new start. I think I would.’

  ‘Would you?’ Wolfe eyed him emptily. ‘It’s all right for you. You’ve never married. It’s different when you know what there is to lose.’

  Baldwin, the steward, peered through the door, ‘Captain, sir? There’s a car alongside the depot ship for you.’

  Jermain stood up and reached for his cap. He continued slowly, ‘I’ve thought about you and Sarah a lot. Much more than I thought I would. There must have been something to break you up. You were so right for each other, I thought.’ He smiled gently. ‘Maybe you should have waited a bit instead of rushing madly for a divorce. I mean, it may not have been as black as you imagined?’

  Wolfe lurched to his feet, ‘Imagined? Coming from you that’s pretty damn good!’

  Jermain said, ‘Hold on, Ian! I only meant…’

  ‘I don’t care what you meant! I’m sick to bloody death of being lectured! I know what happened. She got tired of waiting about for me, and like all bloody women she thought she’d go and enjoy herself with the first pretty Yank who whistled to her!’

  ‘I think that’s ridiculous!’ Jermain studied Wolfe with concern. ‘She was never like that.’

  Wolfe swallowed hard. ‘Well, it’s my affair. I’d be glad if you’d keep out of it in future!’

  Jermain shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. But I hate to see you tearing yourself apart over what’s over and done with.’

  ‘It’ll never be over for me.’ Wolfe was staring past him. ‘Never in a thousand bloody years!’

  By the time Jermain had climbed to the upper deck to where Kitson, the O.O.D., and the trot sentry were waiting to see him over the side, Wolfe seemed to have returned to normal.

  Jermain turned by the gangway. ‘All the same, Ian, I don’t want you to get the idea you’re on your own. It’s unhealthy, and in our present circumstances potentially dangerous.’

  Wolfe lifted his hand in salute and said quietly, ‘I think I can hold down my job, sir!’

  Jermain felt the sun playing across his neck and with it the old nagging feeling of irritation. It had been a mistake to have Wolfe aboard. He would have been better off in a boat full of strangers, where he could feel his own way in his own time. He hurried across the depot ship’s wide deck and down the brow towards the jetty.

  The sun was already low in the sky, but a total absence of wind did little to clear away the humidity of the day. Flags hung limp on their masts, and two large junks hovered motionless on the still water of the harbour like timeless reminders of the East and all its problems.

  There was an open sports car standing beside a tall gantry and a small group of white-clad sailors were hanging around it as if in hopes of getting a lift into town. The group seemed to melt into the dusty jetty itself as Jermain approached the car, the oak leaves on his cap apparently being enough to dispel any such beliefs.

  Jermain pulled up with a start. The driver of the car was a girl, who was leaning against the passenger seat and watching him from behind a pair of dark glasses. She was wearing a plain, sleeveless dress and her skin was evenly tanned and looked very smooth.

  She said, ‘I’ve come to collect you.’ She pushed open the door and revved the engine noisily. ‘I thought you’d prefer this to an official car.’

  He slid in beside her and pulled his cap tighter on his head as she rammed the car into gear and drove bumpily across the jetty railway tracks. As she drove through the maze of sheds and parked cranes Jermain watched her from the corner of his eye. It seemed an age since he had been with a girl of any sort, let alone as attractive as this one. In her middle twenties, he thought. Probably one of the girls from the Defence Commission. The short brown hair which framed her face was bleached by the sun and her bare legs were strong and well formed.

  She drove past the security guards with a casual wave and gathered speed across the causeway. She said suddenly, ‘Are you looking forward to this evening?’

  ‘I’m prepared for it, if that’s the same thing.’ Jermain tensed In his seat as the car sped past a ramshackle taxi with inches to spare.

  She laughed. ‘You’re not a bit what I expected!’

  Jermain frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I was just talking with some of your men back there. They’re as scared as hell of you!’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Jermain felt vaguely pleased. ‘They’ve no cause to be!’

  The girl turned to look at him, her eyes hidden by the glasses. Her mouth was turned down in a mock grimace. ‘They like you. That’s the main thing. Pretty rare out here.’

  ‘And how long have you been here?’ Jermain was getting out of his depth.

  ‘Oh, about six months. I’ve been helping to pave the way for the Commission and all that.’ She laughed at some inner joke. ‘It’s a bit of a hoot really!’

  I can imagine, Jermain thought. She would have the pick of every eligible officer on the base.

  She said after a few moments, ‘I understand you’ve already met everyone who matters here?’

  ‘If you are referring to your boss, Mr. Conway, well yes, I have.’

  She looked sideways at him. ‘What’s the matter, Commander? Don’t you like him?’ She grinned. ‘He’s waiting for you right now. He’ll have his “Man of the People” suit on, I expect, all creased in the right places!’

  Jermain said dryly, ‘You don’t sound very loyal.’

  ‘Oh, he’s sweet really! You should get on well together.’

  She jammed down the clutch and changed gear, her skirt riding carelessly around her thighs. Jermain noticed that her skin was the same even tan all over, and he had a tantalising picture of her stretched out on some beach, the clean limbs naked to the sun.

  He said quickly, ‘Do you like your job, whatever it is?’

  ‘At times.’ She touched her lower lip with one finger. ‘It’s all very secret, of course. Even the tape-recorders have to be blindfolded!’