Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea Page #5

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[SHOUTING CONTINUES]

[WHISTLES]

- All right, break it up!

Attention!

- Now, I don't know

who or what started this...

but I'm telling you,

the next fight ends up in the brig.

- Is that clear?

- Yes, sir.

Now you two men shake hands

and forget it.

Carry on.

- Question, Captain.

- Shoot.

Are we headin' for the Pacific?

I'd answer that question, Gleason,

if I could, but I can't yet.

Well, we certainly are headin'

some place mighty fast.

Sir, maybe home soon.

I can tell you this. We've been

heading south for the last 25 hours.

Whether or not we stay on course

depends on the president.

The admiral's still trying to contact him.

As for home...

you'll be holding that new baby

on your knee before you know it.

But what about this burning belt, Captain?

[MAN ON SPEAKER]

Captain Crane, I just picked up Miami.

- That's my hometown.

- What about that, huh?

Sparks, this is the captain.

Pipe it through the ship.

Aye, aye, sir.

[ANNOUNCER] And the news from Paris

is just as disastrous.

The rising water of the Seine

has overrun its banks...

flooding out thousands of homes

in the low-lying areas.

From Moscow, scattered reports

indicate a severe shortage of water...

as wells from the Ukraine

to the Steppes all dry up.

In China and India

conditions are chaotic...

as riots and pestilence sweep the land.

Meanwhile, the heat has burned like

a giant torch across the face of Africa.

Terror-stricken herds of wild animals

fleeing from the blazing forests...

to the open plains are dying of thirst

around mud-caked water holes.

Other reports indicate

that steaming water...

from the melting North and South Poles...

are being sucked into the air currents...

spreading weird, freakish fog banks

throughout the world.

In many areas, dense fog

severely hampers vital operations.

In this country,

the blistering heat continues to blaze...

a path of destruction

across the Midwest grain belt.

The rich farmland of America

is now almost a waste...

Excuse me.

- What's the matter?

- What's the story, Captain?

- Sparks, did we lose contact?

- No, sir.

The admiral ordered a news blackout.

[CHATTERING]

- All right, knock it off!

NELSON:
Yes?

Sir, may I ask

why you blacked out the news?

A matter of morale, Captain.

No news is better than bad news.

I can't agree, sir. This is no time

to cut the men off from the world.

There may be no world at all if we don't start

making news instead of listening to it.

- May I be excused, sir?

- Go.

What was that about the fog bank?

Do you remember?

Lee!

All right, Lee. Simmer down.

Now, I know the admiral was rough,

and I also know

about maritime regulations.

- It had nothing to do with regulations.

- Lee!

It's a matter of common decency! The men

are worried sick about their families.

They have a right to know the facts,

good or bad.

Lee, come have a cup of coffee,

talk it over.

I don't want any coffee.

Please! Now, you know the admiral

as well as I do...

and we've never known him

to be wrong on a question of policy.

- Even if it ruins morale?

- That's just what he hopes to avoid!

He has a strange way of showing it.

There may be some here

whose friends and loved ones...

have already gone to meet their maker.

If it is God's will that

they and we shall die, so be it.

A joyous reunion can be

only a brief moment away.

That's enough, Mr. Alvarez.

That's more than enough.

What kind of talk is this anyway?

- I only came to offer comfort.

- Comfort? You offer defeatism!

May I remind you this is a federal ship,

and these are federal seamen.

By what right do you dare

preach of imminent death...

of meek resignation to the inevitable?

- Captain, I...

- Nothing is inevitable except defeat...

for those who give up without a fight.

I'll remind you to keep your

sniveling philosophies to yourself.

Now get forward

and stay away from my men.

As you wish, Captain.

- Carry on.

[CHATTERING]

Lee! Please, don't do it.

Come in. Yes, Captain?

Still upset about that news blackout?

As a matter of fact, I am, sir.

And more than that, this man Alvarez

is trying to subvert the crew.

If I'm gonna meet your deadline

in the Marianas,

I need fighters, not fatalists.

Then order Alvarez

to keep away from the crew.

I've already done that.

But if I might suggest, sir...

it would help if you treat the crew as men

and not like children.

If you'd just let them in on your plans!

That has always been my intention,

Captain, but only at the proper time.

- Sparks!

- Sir?

- What luck with Washington?

- Static's gettin' worse, sir.

That Miami pickup was just a freak.

Now all contact's blacked out.

Very well.

Now what?

If you can't reach the president...

- I haven't given up trying.

- But the radio...

- Where are we now, Captain?

- Sir?

Just exactly where are we?

- We're right here, sir.

- Good.

Set a course,

close in toward Cape de Sao Roque.

May I ask why, sir?

Static caused by magnetic storms

may knock out radio,

but it won't affect a telephone cable.

- Telephone cable?

- Yes, Lucius, right here.

Our mine detectors should locate it easily

where it crosses the continental shelf.

- Have Engineering rig a tapping device.

- And tap the cable?

If we can't reach the president by radio,

we'll tap the cable and phone him...

over the Rio-to-London telephone cable.

I like that, Harry.

Thank you.

- Check your mask.

- Right.

- Check.

- Alvarez, I thought I asked for volunteers.

- That's right.

- A little out of character, aren't you?

Hardly out of character, Captain.

Undersea work was part of my job.

All right, let's move out.

- All clear?

- Clear.

Secure the hatch.

- Hatch secure.

- Prepare to flood.

- Ready here.

[MAN ON SPEAKER] Divers ready.

Slow flood.

- Let's hope this works.

- I wouldn't count on it.

- There's the signal. They've found it.

- Where?

Right out there.

- Get Sparks.

- I can't see anything but the signal.

Stand by, Sparks.

They've located the cable.

- Should be a connection in a minute.

- Aye, aye, sir.

SPARKS:

Connection made, Admiral.

- Hello? Hello?

[RADIO STATIC]

This is submarine Seaview.

Can anybody hear us?

- Hello?

- Something's coming in.

- Can you hear us?

MAN:
This is London.

Hello? This is London speaking.

Can you hear me, London?

This is submarine Seaview,

Admiral Nelson.

I hear you, Seaview. Go ahead.

Could you patch me through

to Washington?

Hello? Hello? Come in, London.

Sorry, sir, not a chance.

We've been out of contact

with the States for 35 hours.

There's no answer

on either the north or south cables.

Harry, we'll never get through.

Could you relay a call

through the telephone satellite?

Impossible.

The whole system's flooded out.

- London's been evacuated, and...

[STATIS INTENSIFIES]

Hello? Hello?

Come in, London.

Are you there? Hello?

Break the connection, Sparks.

Order that last man in.

Aye, aye, sir.

Lee? Oh, am I glad to see you!

Am I glad to see you.

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