Black wind

wheel,” Dirk instructed. “We’ll try a little leverage.”
    In an instant, he powered up the thrusters and lifted the Starfish a few inches off the deck. With Summer gripping the hatch wheel with the claw, Dirk applied full reverse thrust and tried to break the seal with the momentum of the entire submersible. The wheel held tight, so he began rocking the Starfish forward and backward, trying to get a quick burst of leverage against the hatch.
    “I think you’re going to rip the arm off,” Summer cautioned.
    With silent determination, he kept trying. On the next tug, he observed a barely perceptible movement in the wheel. Another blast and the seal broke at last, the wheel jerking a quarter spin. “That’s showing it who’s boss,” Summer said. “Just don’t tell Ryan that his baby’s right arm is now a few inches longer than it used to be,” Dirk smiled.
    Hovering over the hatch, Summer was quickly able to spin the locking wheel to its stops with the articulated claw. Dirk then backed the Starfish away, and, with Summer holding on, the hatch finally swung up and open. Repositioning the submersible in front of the opening, they peered into the hole but could see nothing but a black void.
    “I guess this is a job for Snoopy. You have the controls,” Summer said.
    Dirk pulled out a laptop control module and pressed the power on button. A row of lights lit up green as the unit was activated. “Ready, go fetch,” he murmured while pressing a toggle switch that engaged a tiny thruster.
    From an external cradle tucked beneath the acrylic bubble popped out a small tethered Remote Operated Vehicle. No larger than an attache case, the tiny ROV was little more than a self-illuminated video camera wedged against a small set of electronic thrusters. Able to probe and prod into tight spaces, Snoopy was an ideal tool for exploring the deep and dangerous niches of a submerged wreck.
    Summer watched as Snoopy sprang into view and quickly ducked into the open hatch amid a spray of small bubbles. Dirk punched another console button and a live video feed from the ROV appeared on a color monitor. Watching the monitor to steer, he guided the vehicle around the now-familiar torpedo room. Snoopy skirted down one row of torpedoes, where the camera showed all five of the huge steel fish still resting in their racks. Circling to the other side of the bay, a duplicate scene was replayed on the opposite side of the torpedo room-The I-411 was clearly not anticipating battle when the Swordfish surprised and sank her.
    But Dirk wasn’t interested in torpedoes. Methodically, he drove Snoopyto the Prow f ^e torpedo room, then systematically swept the ROV back and forth across the bay, slipping a few feet toward the stern with each pass until he was satisfied that every square foot had been viewed.
    “No sign of the canisters or their crates. But there is a second torpedo room below where they could have been stored.”
    “Can you get Snoopy down there?” Summer asked.
    “There’s a floor hatch for loading the torpedoes, but I don’t think Snoopy is going to lift that open. I may know of another route.”
    Scanning the room with Snoopy\ camera lens eye, he spotted the rear hatch door that led to the chief’s quarters. The hatch door was still open and Dirk maneuvered the ROV through it a few seconds later.
    “Over there,” Summer said, motioning to a corner of the monitor. “There’s a ladder that looks like it leads to the deck below.”
    Dirk danced the ROV around a mass of debris and down an open hatchway in the floor. Dropping down to the deck below, Snoopy sniffed out the doorway to the lower torpedo room and-entered the second bay of warheads. Though slightly smaller due to the more tapered sides of the submarine’s hull, the bay was an exact duplicate of the torpedo room above it. And just as they had seen once before, the camera showed all ten of the deadly Type 95 torpedoes resting peacefully in their racks. Though near the limit of the self-coiling tether that provided Snoopy its power, Dirk carefully maneuvered the ROV around the full confines of the room. The camera showed a full complement of torpedoes in the bay but nothing else. The empty room glared back at them vacantly.
    “It would appear,” Summer said, shaking her head with disappointment, “that there are no eggs to be had.”
    As Dirk carefully guided the small ROV back to the Starfish, he began whistling the old Stephen Foster standard