“One of the crew members?” asked Pitt.

Gunn dropped the ice in the glasses and poured in the scotch. He passed a glass to Pitt. “Yes, we have eight crew members and fourteen scientists on board.”

Pitt swirled the yellow liquid around the ice cubes.

“Could any one of those twenty-two men be responsible for your problems?”Gunn shook his head.

“I’ve thought about that, I’ve even dreamed about it, and I’ve analyzed each man’s personnel record at least fifty times, and I can’t see what possible motive any of them might have for hindering the project.”

Gunn paused to sip his drink. “No, I’m certain my opposition comes from another source. Someone inexplicably wants to stop us from catching a fish that might not even exist.”

The boy soon returned with the two halves of the broken cable. He handed the braided steel to Gunn and left the cabin, closing the door after him. Pitt took another drink from his scotch and climbed from the bunk. He set the glass on Gunn’s desk’. and lifted the cable in his hands, examining the ends closely.

It looked like any other greasy steel cable. Each piece was about two feet in length and contained twenty-four hundred strands that were braided into a standard five-eighth-inch diameter. The cable was not broken in a compact area. The breaks were spread over a fifteen inch distance that gave both frayed wires the appearance of a pair of uneven, unwound horse tails.

Something caught Pitt’s eye. and he took the magnifying glass and peered through the heavy lens. His eyes glinted with intensity and his lips slowly spread into a grin of smug satisfaction. The old feelings of excitement and intrigue began to course through his veins. This might turn out to be an interesting operation after all, he thought.

“See anything?’ asked Gunn.

“Yes, a great deal,” replied Pitt. “Somewhere along the line you’ve found yourself an enemy who doesn’t want you fishing around in his territory."

Gunn became flushed and his eyes opened wide. “What did you find?”

“This cable was purposely cut,” said Pitt. His voice was very cold.

“What do you mean: cut,” cried Gunn. ‘Where do you see evidence of human tampering?”

Pitt held up the magnifying glass for Gunn. “Notice how the breaks spiral down and bend inward toward the core? And see how the strands have a smashed appearance. If a cable of this diameter is pulled at each end until it snaps, the strands are clean and the ends have a tendency to point out and away from the core. That didn’t happen here.”

Guns stared at the shattered cable. “I don’t understand. What could have caused this?”

Pitt looked thoughtful for a moment. “My guess is Primacord.”

Gunn was stunned. His eyes flew wide behind the big glasses. “You can’t be serious? Isn’t that an explosive?”

“Yes it is,” Pitt said calmly. “Primacord looks like string or rope and can be made in any thickness.

mainly, it’s used for blasting down trees and setting off different groups of distantly spaced explosives at he same time. It reacts like a burning fuse except that it moves and bursts rapidly, almost with the speed of light.”

“But how could anyone plant explosives under the ship without being seen.. The water is crystal clear in this area. Visibility is over one hundred feet. One of the scientists or crew members would have seen any intruder… Not to mention hearing the sound of an explosion.”

“Before I attempt to answer that, let me ask you two questions. What equipment was attached to the cable when it parted? And at what time did you discover the break?”

“The cable was connected to the underwater decompression chamber. The divers have been working at one hundred and eighty feet and it has become necessary to begin decompression underwater for long periods of time to prevent the bends. We discovered the broken cable at about 0700 in the morning right after breakfast.” “I take it that you left the chamber in the water overnight?”

“No,” replied Gunn. “It’s our habit to lower the chamber before dawn so it’ll be in place and ready to receive the divers in case of an early morning emergency.”

“There’s your answer!” Pitt exclaimed. “Someone swam under cover of the predawn darkness to the cable and set off the Primacord. Visibility may be one. hundred feet after the sun comes up but at night it’s less than one foot.”

“And the noise from the blast?”

“Elementary my dear Gunn,” Pitt grinned. “I should guess that a small amount of Primacord detonating at approximately eighty feet of depth would sound very similar to a sonic boom from one of Brady Field’s F-105 Starfires.”

Guns looked at Pitt with respect. It was basically a sound theory, and obviously there was little he could think of to debate about His forehead creased, “Where do we go from here?”

Pitt downed the scotch and banged the glass onto Gunn’s desk. “You just stay in the briny and fish for your Teaser. I’m going back to the island and try my hand at a little hunting. There may be a tie-in with your disruptions and the attack on Brady yesterday, and the next step will be to find who’s behind this mess and what their motives are.”

Suddenly the door burst open and a man leaped into the cabin. He wore only a pair of abbreviated swim trunks and a wide belt, containing a knife and a nylon net bag. His wet, sun-bleached hair was streaked with whitish yellow and freckles dotted his nose and chest.

As he stood there, the water dripped to the carpet around his feet in spreading dark stains.

“Commander Gunn,” he shouted excitedly. “I’ve seen one! I’ve actually seen a Teaser, not more than ten feet in front of my mask.”

Guns jumped to his feet. “Are you sure? Did you get a close look at him?”

“Better than that, sir, I took a picture of him.”

The freckle-nosed man stood there, grinning with every available tooth. “If only I had a spear gun, I might have got him, but I was shooting coral formations with my camera instead.”

“Quick,” snapped Gunn. “Get that film to the lab and have it developed.”

“Yes sir.” The fellow turned and dashed out of the door, spraying Pitt with a few drops of saltwater as he passed.

Guns’s face had a happy but determined look.

‘My God. To think I was about to give up, throw my tail between my legs and set a course for home.

Now, dammit, I’m going to stay anchored here until I die of old age or catch a Teaser.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced at Pitt. ‘Well, Major, what do you think of that?”

Pitt merely shrugged. “Personally, I prefer angling for girls.” With very little effort his mind dropped the business at hand and formed a tantalizing picture of Teri standing on the beach in her red bikini.

It was a few minutes past five when Pitt arrived back at his quarters on Brady Field. Within seconds of discarding his sticky clothing, he was firmly entrenched on his back in a narrow shower stall. It was a tight fit; his head was crooked into one corner, his back pressed flat on the wet tile floor, and his hairy legs and feet thrust upward on a ninety degree angle in the opposite corner.

To anyone who might have peeked, it looked like a contorted and bone torturing position, but Pitt found it thoroughly comfortable and immensely satisfying. When time allowed, he always relaxed in the shower in this manner. Sometimes he dozed off, but mostly he used the simulated rainy atmosphere and the solitude to think. At this moment his mind simmered with a multitude of perplexing questions.

He mentally juggled the facts and unknowns together, seeking a pattern and trying to concentrate on the most important problems. It was no use. His mind eluded his grasp and stubbornly chewed on the minor and inconsequential riddle of the noiseless truck by the beach.

For some inexplicable reason the riddle irritated him and he endeavored vainly to shake it, but it remained. Finally he gave in to it and closed his eyes and recreated the scene, hoping to visualize a sign or solution.