Chapter 6

Lt. Parker was lying on her back in the cramped cabin of the Wahoo. She wasn't exactly sleeping but seemed to be suspended between the state of sleep and being awake. In this state, she perceived the batteries hissing as they discharged the energy they held into the electric motors of the submarine. She could feel the vibrations as the screws rotated and kept the sub at its snail's pace 17 knots; 17 knots that brought her hour by hour closer to a little pile of volcanic rock and vegetation in the middle of the South Pacific. Tracy also perceived that the interior of the sub was getting slowly warmer as time went on. Even though there was a fan that periodically blew the stale air over her as its head cycled back and forth, she seemed to be able to tell that this poor breeze was getting less and less refreshing.

Suddenly, Tracy sat up. She was sweaty. The underarms of her coveralls were moist; there was line of perspiration moistening her back and across her chest. She looked at a cheap thermometer hanging from the cabin bulkhead; it read 91 degrees. "Whew!" Tracy puffed a complaint. "I think something's wrong with the air exchanger on this tub," Tracy thought as she got up and opened her cabin door. Surprised, she found herself face to face with an older woman with gray-streaked dark brown hair and an equally distinguished-looking older man. They seemed as surprised to find her up and about. It was 3 and a half hours before the jump. As they sized each other up, the young female officer and the 2 older question marks, Cmdr. Luis Diego appeared as if on cue to answer the obvious questions everyone had. "Lieutenant, this is Dr. Lunt," he motioned towards the woman, "and Dr.Selig," motioning towards the man. "They are with the NSA. We're supposed to help them with an experiment during this trip." Cmdr. Diego was trying to keep it light, but obviously saw Tracy's spine stiffen. "I'm sorry doctors. I don't know anything about an 'experiment.' But, I'm going to be too busy to provide lab notes and observations for the folks back home." Tracy was trying to be civil as she got more and more angry. "What kind of shit was SOU trying to pull on her this close to a jump?" Tracy fumed to herself. Didn't they know that it was going to be difficult enough after losing 2 others?

Even more importantly, didn't Capt. Clement care enough about her emotional state to have protected her from this crap? "Was Capt. Clement aware this would be part of the mission?" Tracy asked, hoping that the answer was no. "Your CO was fully briefed and actually encouraged our participation," Dr. Selig volunteered. Tracy felt betrayed. "Actually," Dr. Lunt interjected, "we're going to test a device that may provide you with an edge as you go in. It will monitor your bodily functions; heart rate, blood pressure, etc. and will provide you with limited one way communications to this submarine during your mission. It will be undetectable and may provide us and the SOU with additional insights upon your return." Tracy looked the woman in the eyes. She remembered Clement's frustration about not knowing what happened to Munroe and McKeeson. So, Tracy concluded quickly that she was going to be loaded with a "black box" to record vital information in case she didn't get back. After all, Aziz always returned the remains. The doctor probably knew that, too. Tracy saw the confirming look in Dr. Lunt's eyes. "Well, okay," Tracy softly submitted. "How much time do you need to set me up?"

Tracy sat in the middle of the long surgical table in the forward torpedo room of the Wahoo. She was wearing a hospital smock. As she shifted her weight from buttock to buttock, she felt small puddles of sweat underneath her skin. The temperature was at least 95 degrees in the sub. "Doctor, does it seem too hot in here?" Tracy asked Dr. Lunt. She was wearing surgical gloves. No assistants; the torpedo room hatch was closed.

"Dr. Selig asked the captain about the heat. He said it was due to the volcanic nature of the surrounding ocean floor," she stated kindly but clinically. As Tracy watched, 2 small devices no larger than watch batteries were removed from sterile packing. Tracy noticed the concentration Dr. Lunt showed in her face as she checked each device by eye and then electronically by some testing device. She was in her fifties; she looked a bit like Olympia Dukakis but was much prettier. Her eyes weren't exactly brown but almost amber in their clarity. She didn't hesitate as she connected a very long, thin wire to one of the devices; her brow peppered by rolling droplets of sweat. "There," Dr. Lunt turned and smiled. "Lieutenant, this is one of Dr. Selig's toys. It is an anterior monitor that will allow us to hear you as you go about your duties."

She showed Tracy a small wafer about the size and thickness of a penny with a long, very thin wire hanging from it. "It will be worn within your body. This will provide the most protection and also increase its effectiveness when you are broadcasting. Do not worry about being discovered," Dr. Lunt anticipated Tracy's concern about detection. "The signal is very low frequency; very similar to the ELF used by this submarine for emergency broadcasts." The doctor's face became clinical and distant. "Unfortunately, you will have to be purged before introduction of this device." Tracy looked at her quizzically. "You mean," Tracy half laughed. "You'll have to have an enema and empty your bladder completely. No water or food before your start," Dr. Lunt explained dispassionately. "It is a lot to ask," suddenly the doctor's tone was warm and understanding, "but it will protect the device and increase your chances of getting home." Tracy was surprised. That comment made it clear that she knew the nature of the mission. There weren't just 3 people who knew; now, there were at least 5 -- Dr. Selig had to be in on it, too. Tracy stewed. "A lot of people are beginning to know about this. And that's bad," Tracy's brow furrowed.

The enema was effective. But, Tracy wasn't eating much prior so the process went quickly. There was some additional flushing and cleansing; Tracy thought her insides must be as clean as ever in her young life. Through the process, which took 45 minutes, Dr. Lunt was kind and gentle, supportive and discreet. When everything had been done to prepare, Tracy got back on the surgical table now fitted with stirrups used in deliveries. "If you'll please place your feet here," Dr. Lunt motioned. Tracy absently placed each foot in a stirrup and the doctor lifted the hem of Tracy's gown. A cold touch in a very sensitive spot made Tracy start. "I'm sorry," Dr. Lunt said flatly. "I'll be inserting the device into your vagina and attaching it to the wall against the uterus." Tracy could feel an icy probe slowly enter her body. "The attachment will be made by a surgical staple; the device produces a low voltage pulse that acts as a local anesthetic. You won't know it's there," the doctor offered. Tracy wasn't taking. "Attach a small radio inside my vagina, and I won't notice?" Tracy humorlessly thought. At once, she felt her pelvis spasm. The thought of the procedure making her react in this way caused her to blush slightly.

"Perfectly normal," Dr. Lunt reassured her. Of course, she was right. Regular examinations by the SOU doctors told Tracy that. But this was different. Only, Tracy didn't know why. The second device was a backup unit. As soon as Dr. Lunt was done inserting and attaching the device, she slowly and carefully uncoiled the thin wire. One end was attached to the device inside Tracy's vagina. It lead out through her vulva and was glued into place running along her left pelvis, up her left side, around her left breast and ending attached by a small pad to the left of her sternum. Tracy, fully unclothed in front of the doctor, made mental notes about its placement and position along her body. It was practically invisible -- the wire was so thin and attached so well. "The wire is attached in several places so that it will not come off in physical activity. The end is capped with a special microphone. In a sense, your body becomes a transmitter, and your bones the antenna for the device," Dr.Lunt was obviously proud of the combination of electronic and biological wizardry Tracy had become. "There's no chance of this wire slipping and snagging, is there?" Tracy regarded herself in a full length mirror on one of the bulkheads. "Not a chance," Dr. Lunt was certain. "Please say anything, and whisper. It's a test," Dr. Lunt smiled. "I feel like the bionic woman," Tracy muttered. Suddenly, with a crackle of the intercom, Dr.Selig's voice responded, "You are much prettier than her." Dr. Lunt face was a proud grin.