The Sinking of the S.S. Credibility: Alex Has a Friend in Intelligence
Paul Mulholland expected a peaceful voyage. Alex arrived in a borrowed Cold War submarine with expired charts, mysterious buttons and a handwritten promise to return it before Monday.
Fictional parody: The events, dialogue, intelligence officer and naval equipment in this story are entirely invented.
Captain Paul Mulholland had barely cleared the harbour aboard the S.S. Credibility when a periscope appeared beside his ship.
Initially, he assumed it belonged to a marine researcher. Then a little flag rose from the water.
The flag read TEAM AEB.
Paul lowered his binoculars.
There were many things he had hoped to leave behind on this voyage. Apparently, one of them had acquired a submarine.
A Friend With Unusually Flexible Lending Policies
The submarine surfaced with a tremendous churn of water, revealing a weathered Cold War hull and a conning tower that appeared to have been maintained primarily through optimism.
Alex climbed through the hatch wearing sunglasses, a naval cap and a headset connected to nothing Paul could identify.
“Where did you get that?” Paul shouted.
“Borrowed it from my intelligence officer friend.”
Paul waited for the explanation to become more reassuring.
“He said to bring it back with a full tank.”
The friend had also supplied a laminated instruction sheet, a biscuit tin full of spare fuses and a note reading: THE RED SWITCH IS SOMETIMES THE OTHER RED SWITCH.
Alex regarded this as classified operational guidance.
Paul regarded it as a reason to increase the distance between the vessels.
The Cold War Is Over. The Dashboard Has Not Been Informed.
Inside the submarine, every surface contained a gauge, a valve or a warning label that Alex had decided looked less important than the surrounding labels.
The navigation chart ended in 1987.
The radio occasionally received a weather bulletin, occasionally received a taxi dispatcher, and once received a man asking whether anybody had seen his ladder.
Alex logged all three as intelligence intercepts.
His friend had specifically told him that the vessel was retired and its weapons had been removed.
Alex was disappointed by the weapons. He was delighted by the word retired.
It suggested experience.
The submarine possessed a great deal of experience. Most of it was rust.
Paul Requests Some Professional Distance
From the bridge of the S.S. Credibility, Paul radioed a clear instruction.
“Alex, please stop following my ship.”
“I’m providing an escort.”
“I did not request an escort.”
“That’s what makes it proactive.”
Paul explained that he wanted to conduct his voyage independently. Alex explained that independent operations required someone nearby to independently confirm them.
Neither explanation improved the separation between the vessels.
The submarine’s periscope turned toward Paul’s bridge.
Paul closed the curtain.
Alex wrote VISIBILITY RESTRICTED BY SUBJECT in his notebook.
The Sonar Detects Something Extremely Familiar
Twenty minutes later, Alex detected a large vessel directly ahead.
He studied the sonar display with considerable intensity.
The contact was moving at Paul’s speed, on Paul’s heading, in approximately Paul’s location.
Alex called Paul immediately.
“You’re being followed.”
“Yes,” Paul replied. “By you.”
“No. There’s another ship.”
“Where?”
“Exactly where you are.”
Paul gripped the radio.
“Alex. That is my ship.”
Alex looked again at the display.
“Then they’ve copied your position.”
Operation: Dramatic Entrance
Alex decided to surface beside the S.S. Credibility and resolve matters face to face.
His intelligence officer friend had recommended maintaining generous clearance from other vessels.
Alex remembered this as a general preference.
He also remembered being told to move slowly. Unfortunately, he interpreted this as advice about the friendship.
On Paul’s bridge, the coffee cups began rattling.
A low metallic groan travelled through the hull.
Then the borrowed submarine rose beneath the ship’s stern with the terrible precision of a man confidently parking in the wrong space.
The S.S. Credibility lurched. A deck chair folded itself. Paul’s framed mission statement fell from the wall.
Over the radio came Alex’s voice.
“Small contact.”
Below deck, the ocean entered through a very large disagreement.
The Ship Begins Losing the Argument
The crew responded immediately, distributing life jackets and preparing the lifeboats.
Paul responded by asking Alex what had happened.
Alex said the situation remained fluid.
This was, for once, an accurate assessment.
Water flooded the lower compartments. The bow began to settle. A cupboard opened and released fourteen folders marked FOR FUTURE CLARIFICATION.
The future had arrived considerably wetter than anticipated.
Paul reached the rail.
“You’ve sunk my credibility!”
Alex looked up from the submarine.
“Your ship.”
“It’s called Credibility!”
“That does complicate the headline.”
A Rescue With Several Conditions Attached
Fortunately, everyone aboard reached the lifeboats. Unfortunately, the nearest available rescue vessel belonged to Alex.
Paul climbed onto the submarine with a soaked jacket, a life vest and a strong desire to meet the intelligence officer responsible for the lending arrangement.
Alex offered him a towel.
It read PROPERTY OF NAVAL MUSEUM GIFT SHOP.
Paul looked at it.
“Your friend works at a museum?”
“After intelligence.”
“What did he do in intelligence?”
Alex hesitated.
“He said he handled sensitive material.”
At that moment, the friend’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Alex, it’s Nigel. Have you still got the sub? And please tell me you haven’t used the display model for anything nautical.”
The Debriefing Becomes Uncomfortable
Paul slowly turned toward Alex.
Alex slowly turned down the radio.
Nigel continued.
“And when I said intelligence officer, I meant the quiz team. I’m the intelligence officer for the Thursday quiz team.”
For several seconds, the only sound was water dripping from Paul’s sleeves.
Behind them, the last visible section of the S.S. Credibility slipped beneath the surface.
Alex watched it disappear.
Then he opened his notebook.
“What are you writing?” Paul asked.
“Successful rescue operation.”
“You caused the rescue operation.”
Alex considered this.
“Full-service.”
The Return Policy Does Not Cover This
A harbour tug eventually collected the survivors and towed the submarine back to shore.
Nigel was waiting beside the dock with a clipboard.
He examined the bent periscope, the scraped conning tower and the section of Paul’s railing still attached to the hull.
“Did you fill the tank?”
Alex nodded.
“Which tank?”
“The inside.”
Nigel closed his eyes.
Paul walked past both men without speaking. He had decided that his next expedition would involve a bench.
Alex called after him.
“For what it’s worth, my friend also has access to a helicopter.”
Paul began walking faster.