Sam Merwin

“ His senses hyper-acute, he heard the slap of brine against the waterline, its rhythm never twice the same, yet never varied, so that a man could pick out the difference. He watched idly as the swaying cabin lamp made the shadow of the bottle on the table dance a minuet.
All around him was the wakeful dormancy of a mighty ship asleep—as other ships lay in similar unreal quiescence fore and aft, ships whose commanders were bound by oath to obey his every whim, bound by oath and the fealty his reputation inspired. ”

“ He rose then, adapting his motions to the roll of the Atlantic beneath his ship like the veteran sailor he was. A short, angular, indomitable figure, he strode across his cabin to the admiral's walk aft. He was an admiral, was he not? Who had a better right to use it?
The sky was cloudy above the restless black velvet of the sea, and the shipboard sounds were clearer. Somewhere below one horizon lay the coast of Spain and the port of Cadiz where he had suffered the anguish of a shattered elbow. ”

“ Then he laughed. "I'm no scientific wizard, Admiral. But that last atom blast that nearly got us must have kicked the Earth right back on its own time trail for a second. It certainly made enough of a fuss. And we may get more any minute."
"What sort of war is this?" Nelson asked, disturbed. "You say you and your men are dying, you talk of earth-shaking 'atom' blasts, yet you fight in sealed cabins."
"Not sealed tightly enough," said Kirkham. "By the way, you are aboard the United States Battleship Kentucky, first capital ship in the world to mount major guided missiles instead of heavy guns. ”

“ American or no, he was one of his own kind.
"That would take years," said Kirkham. "We have a saying at home which goes, 'The time, the place and the girl.' Its implications should be understandable to a man like yourself."
"Entirely," said Nelson with a faint smile.
"Well, Admiral, consider yourself the girl for the purpose of metaphor. We are roughly a hundred miles southwest of Cadiz, so the place and the girl are right—remember, you're the girl. It's the time that's cockeyed."
"Cockeyed?" said Nelson. Then, "Oh! And just why is it cockeyed, Admiral?" ”

“ Kirkham said in his ear. "So we'll move northeast before we swing back toward the west."
"Where is the British fleet?" Nelson asked.
"North of Scotland with our main body," said the American. "They're supporting the main troop landings to follow the airborne in. Those devils will wish they'd never driven us to fight them before we're through."
"I am glad we are allies," said Nelson.
It was then that a frightening voice came through a sort of horn overhead, announcing that missiles had been detected on their way. Kirkham barked terse orders. Suddenly the ship all around them blazed with fire. ”

“ It tells the story, if you're man enough to take it! You died at Trafalgar on October twenty-first, eighteen hundred and five."
"And this is the night of October twentieth, nineteen-sixty!" mused Nelson. He shuddered briefly.
"Eh?" said Kirkham. He looked apologetic. "Sorry to give it to you so brutally, Admiral, but you're on a ship of men who have little longer to live. We've been washed by so much radioactive water our only hope is to get her back to port before we become derelict."
"Radioactive water?" said Nelson. ”

“ War has become a terrible thing."
"It always was," said Kirkham. He had reached for the glass to pour another pair of drinks when a buzzer sounded and he flipped the switch on a box at his elbow.
"Enemy plane sighted and destroyed fifty miles off port bow," came the report. Kirkham swore and closed the switch. He rose, looked at his strange visitor.
"Care to come up and see the fireworks?" he asked. "We've just been spotted by another plane."
Nelson rose quickly. His host started toward the door, then checked himself and came back.
"Better cover that costume of yours, Admiral," he said. ”

“ Actually, until the issue was joined, there was little he could do. To show himself on deck would reveal a nervousness that might result in a disastrous echo among the men who relied upon him for victory. ”

“ Slowly he climbed it and then another stairway and nowhere did man appear to stop his progress or to offer information as to his whereabouts. Beneath the white paint the wall was hard, unyielding, metallic to the touch of his left hand. He climbed still another companionway, came to an open door and entered it. ”

“ Our main attack is coming over the North Pole—airborne, and we were merely a diversion. We had luck and launched our missiles successfully. The troop landings are coming off almost without opposition according to the latest dispatches. But the enemy isn't through by a long shot. ”