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The XO took over the navigator’s duties, and spent almost all his time in Control. While the navigator had been crushed by his responsibilities, the XO was energized. With a sharpened pencil tucked behind his ear, he studied the chart like a general looking for weaknesses in an enemy position. Between fixes and DRs, he updated the charts, coached the JOs on the conn, and told dirty stories about the glory days of Subic Bay and Olongapo.

• • •

Jabo was the last one into the Officers’ Study, having just left the watch. The captain and Chief Flora were there waiting to begin the qualification board.

As dictated by tradition, Hallorann had supplied the room with snacks and beverages; the coffee pot was full, and a pitcher of coke sat in the middle of the table. A mixing bowl full of Hershey’s Kisses was being passed around. Jabo was handed Hallorann’s battered yellow qualification book to review for completeness. He flipped through it, saw signatures from the men he knew so well in every blank. He stopped at one page and felt a pang seeing the signature JUONI, TM1, one of their dead.

Hallorann stood at the front, in a neatly pressed poopie suit, dry erase marker in hand. As Jabo took his seat, the captain said, “Ok, chief, why don’t you start us off?”

Flora cleared his throat. “Diagram our ship’s sonar system.”

Jabo fought back a chuckle. It was a very hard question…and Hallorann, when he saw that a nuke chief was on his board, had probably boned up on all the engine room stuff. But if he got through this…

Hallorann paused, and then turned to the board. He drew a crude approximation of the spherical array, and then the towed array. He took a red marker and drew acoustic beams emanating from it. When the drawing was complete, he turned and began to explain it to them.

Jabo’s mind wandered as he spoke; he could tell immediately that Hallorann knew the system passably well. Better than that — he seemed to actually understand what he was saying, and wasn’t just repeating back by rote something that he’d read. Jabo, and everyone else on the boat, already knew Hallorann was smart. They also knew that he worked his ass off. The only thing he had left to prove during the board was that he could function under pressure. And this, too, was something Jabo already knew, he’d seen Hallorann perform under much greater pressure than this, in the heat of a fire and the cold of nearly freezing ocean water pouring in under such pressure that the noise alone was a hazard.

“Any follow up questions?” said the captain when Hallorann paused. “Lieutenant Jabo?”

“What’s the status of the spherical array right now?” said Jabo.

Hallorann hesitated. “It’s out of commission, sir.”

They all chuckled at that. “That’s one way to put it,” said Jabo.

“Ok,” said the captain. “Lieutenant, I believe it’s your turn to ask young Hallorann a question.

Jabo paused. He was really pulling for the kid, wanted to ask him something hard enough that it would impress the captain, but not so hard that he would stumble and drop the ball. He thought about all that Hallorann might know, the things he’d learned at sea.

“Hallorann, can you explain how the torpedo room flood control works?”

Hallorann turned, erased the board, and started drawing a line diagram of the system.

• • •

Twenty-four hours before Alabama was due to pull in to Pearl Harbor, a tug pulled alongside to make a brief exchange. From the tug came three boxes of critical spare parts, a bright orange bag of mail, and some fresh food that the chop, in a small act of heroism, had somehow managed to requisition: fresh lettuce, tomatoes, apples, oranges, and real milk. The last container of milk was followed by a lieutenant commander in dress whites. Jabo waited for him at the bottom of the forward LET as the XO had requested him to do; he was Lieutenant Commander Carr of the Naval Investigative Service.

“Lieutenant Jabo, sir,” he said, feeling sloppy in his poopie suit.

He extended his hand. “Lieutenant Commander Carr. Nice to meet you lieutenant.”

Jabo led him to the navigator’s stateroom.

He looked it over. Flipped through the copy of Rig for Dive that was still on his rack. The messages he’d hidden. Nodded his head thoughtfully. He seemed more down to earth than the few other NIS agents Jabo had met before; he suspected based on his age and that air of confidence that he was prior enlisted. He also suspected that the NIS had probably sent one of their top men to get the initial groundwork done. He was a good listener, barely saying a word as Jabo told the whole story, from the leg stabbing before their departure to seeing the Nav’s dead body in Machinery One. He found himself recalling scenes he’d almost forgotten, like the time he’d heard the Nav talking to himself in the Officers’ Study. Jabo wondered if he was getting too comfortable, and forced himself to stop.