APHANISTOR ON HIS OWN
  [203] For there another, CR79, a Smith & Maltons type G3 intelligent
submersible recycler / destructor equipped grab dredger ('`dredgersub') was
underwater alone. Its onboard computer, designed to notice general tendencies
and decide between options like a human brain, and with similar emotional /
instinctive drives, now had to make all its own decisions, for however much it
searched through its mind's corners, it found no trace of Captain Hurlock's
presence as an `inner voice and hand' directing and advising it, for the little
control compartment under its hind roof was empty. Now it had to decide for
itself where to dredge for silt containing organic matter that it could
reprocess for fuel and lubricant; where to go for shelter within reach of the
surface, to sleep so its brain circuitry could `sweep and tidy' itself; which to
follow out of the various aims-in-life programmed into it by its makers and by
its owner - if an `owner' could be spoken of, for it may well have claimed to
own itself. It was designed to go a long time without needing servicing, but
servicing it would need some time - it would need to find others of its own
kind, or friendly humans. In the meantime it was on its own, after a sudden
sonar message told it that ten of its human companions were in the hands of the
landlubbers' authorities after the inevitable breach in complete undercoverness
caused the alarm to be raised, for Captain Hurlock's people, like any one group,
often had important differences in opinion from the population at large.
  Its mind and emotional attitudes, as originally copied into it by Wheeljack in
Smith & Malton's works where it was made, had been a standard set of knowledge
and attitudes towards matters which Wheeljack and Optimus Prime had assembled by
experience, but without any memory of particular events. Unlike James Wernicke's
Transformers, it had no memories of `Cybertron', and its world was Earth. In the
beginning, these computer personalities were much the same, except for any
special technical data packages read in; the differences came later. Captain
Hurlock knew enough electronics to find how to reset its attitude to certain
matters to match his own, all too successfully, and its mind was now close to a
copy of his. Curiosity as to classical names given to ships had led him to study
the classics in spare hours at sea and later, and so he named CR79 in Greek:
`Aphanistor' (= `he who causes disappearance'), for its digester, a special fuel
cell with separators attached, consumed most things. Energy from burning
oxidisable matter was used as power, or to make hydrocarbon oil and fuel for
itself for later, or to trade as surplus; recycled purified metals or their
oxides found uses in industry, and saved Man from having to mine quite so much
new. It destroyed most things given to it: the most impressively poisonous sorts
of industrial waste, leaking rusty drums and all, vanished completely; so did
the harbour's and village's routine tipping and emptyings-out; customs and
police seizures; `confidential waste' paper; three inflatable boats seized from
`birdwatchers' caught raiding pots; - and other things. This was now in the
past, and it now for a while had to find all its own dredgings in the sea.
  Before this day, to CR79 came the end of much that happened around the
village. For example, late one night he received a sonar call to come to the
quayside, where Polwerran was sitting in the seat of a building site type dumper
with a sheeted-over load ready to be tipped into CR79's grab uplifted opened
against the quay. Usually its load was only routine rubbish; but that time half
a ton of scuba gear and camping gear cascaded from under the dumper's load sheet
and clattered hollowly down CR79's `one-way road' after Captain Hurlock's patrol
in an amphibious night operation at Smew Cove had stopped a group's planned
fortnight of living off Crabhaven's sea before it started. (That was easy: they
believed Captain Hurlock's men's claim to be an official fisheries patrol
enforcing alleged new laws, and obeyed his order to "Leave your kit with us and
go back to Birmingham and no whingeing to the media, and we won't prosecute.".
The divers later did query the matter and told the public media, but nothing of
the `sea patrol' was found, but people guessed.) The dumper turned and backed to
the quay edge. Grab-hydraulics strained and fibreglass splintered inside the
hollow hard toothed grab as CR79 finished the job. A long bulge went down its
intake cover as it swallowed the crushed RIB (hard-bottomed inflatable boat) and
trailer.
  On top of that and a stomachful of drums of factory waste given to him early
that morning, CR79 was not thankful to have to digest a portable diving air
compressor's bulky cylinder block, but in case the divers brought the police
back to find the culprits, "tracelessness is all". The diving gear yielded air
for a long deep dive, and mostly aluminium and lead, and some miscellanea. The
factory waste yielded much antimony and cadmium and suchlike (to be sent back to
the factory instead of ending up as pollution) - and nearly a hundredweight of
copper from a drumful of scrap wire ("some thieving workman at the factory'll be
furious." he thought) - <and> the fiver per drum that Captain Hurlock had
charged for getting rid of the waste.
  CR79 remembered another case: once when a sea fog blinded the clifftop
surveillance cameras, 12 men, who told an investigating local man that they were
birdwatchers surveying the gulls, launched 3 inflatable boats at Dobbits Cleft
and sailed to Black Rock Head and back, emptying every pot and keep-box on the
way. But outboard motor noise travels far underwater, and eight of Captain
Hurlock's men in riotsquad gear in four boats met them returning laden with
plunder to Dobbits. The thieves were beaten up and let go; but their inflatables
were towed to Crabhaven to be disposed of, for inshore fishermen had little use
for inflatables, "they are trippers' boats to play about in and get in the way
in, they can't carry a good load of fishing gear and catch, and working in them
with anything sharp punctures them. Except for the inshore rescue boat, and
<that> gets most of its work rescuing trippers.".
  "Indeed," CR79 thought, "when my grab has got round nothing for weeks except
silt and wreck and dustbin contents, for a really l-o-n- g smooth swallow,
there's nothing quite like an inflatable now and then. There's plenty of <those>
ended up in my kind's dredgings tanks - sometimes trailer and all, if the people
that brought them without asking us first, leave them and go for a drink.". CR79
slowly went away, wondering what sort of man the new harbourmaster would be.
"There's some of the men here would like me to be the next harbourmaster," he
thought, "except I can't go on land or into rooms like humans can. Where do I go
now? What happens here now? I can always find work somewhere, like human
commercial divers but bigger and better.".

        [204] In his room in Wernicke Computers Ltd, Jack Brown saw the TV report of
Captain Hurlock's patrol's last antidiver operation, and arrest for sea-piracy
and robbery and usurped authority, and description of the lethal ultrasonic beam
`Hurlock sonars' found on them, and wondered what next would happen.
  In Smith & Malton's, Mr.Malton (known as Captain Blowtorch because of his
oxyacetylene torch with bulky cylinders which he often wore strapped to his back
like an aqualung) read newspapers with growing realization:-
  "Illegal seaborne vigilantes arrested."
  "Ultrasound gun terror for divers."
  "Navy furious about secret weapon duplication."
  "RAF to rescue of kidnapped divers. A new group diver disappearance averted?
Robot plane raises the alarm."
  "Link with previous incidents? 3 inflatables seized from birdwatchers.
Attackers accuse them of raiding lobsterpots."
  "4 scuba divers caught in ultrasonic death beam. One escapes, loses a leg."
  "Thugs in riotsquad gear land & attack divers' camp & seize all gear, claim
enforcing new law. Group diver disappearances explained?"
  "Ambulance robot finds survivor of 4 scuba divers fired on from boat by
underwater `ray gun'."
  "Well! This news, and other recent news!" he thought, "I thought there seemed
something a bit wrong about Captain Hurlock!, when he came here about his type
G3 dredgersub. At least he's paid me for it. That PC Melrose that went to
Crabhaven disguised as a fisherman and bought a D2SD Hurlock sonar there,
certainly has uncovered something!". He turned to more immediate matters as one
of his men told him that the British Waterways Board were on the telephone about
wanting another `floater' for a G3 to ride on so that it could work in shallow
inland water such as canals.
  The police searched fishing boats and other craft nationwide for `Hurlock
sonars'. "Oh, you've got a D2SD <and> a D4SD sonar." said a policeman searching
a fishing boat at Cromer, "Sorry, but they'll have to go to the police station.
The Home Office have classified them as firearms. You must get a gun licence for
them, or let us remove the stun beam facility before returning them.".
  "Why? I need them at sea." the fisherman complained.
  "Sorry. Don't you follow the news? Incidents of them being used against people
...".
  "That business down at Crabhaven? Don't look at me, I only use that part on
seals that rob my nets, as the law says I can.". Which was true with him, but he
had heard of others using them against what some called `two-legged seals'.
  Captain Hurlock and his men were taken to Exeter police station for
interrogation. Several groups of divers who had had encounters with them sent
representatives. Ratchet arrived, startling the policeman at the door who had
not heard of Transformers except as toys and fiction and expected `Dr.Ratchett'
to be a human. The interrogation lasted a long time. Parts of it ran thus:-
  "OK. You caught us busting some scuba divers for diving without permission and
poaching. What's this other matter that you're trying to pin on us?" said
Captain Hurlock, thinking "Trust that last lot of sea-frogs to choose a shallow
cove full of spiky rocks out of reach of the ... Otherwise those copters'd've
found nothing.".
  "One and a half miles east of Dobbits Cleft." an interrogator persisted, "4
divers. A boat came over them. 3 of them lost consciousness, the 4th suffered a
severe leg injury from what was certainly high-powered ultrasound. High-powered
ultrasound guns were found in your boats. This is now a murder inquiry.".
  "We aren't the only men who've bought those sonars," said Penlane, "we aren't
the only men who use boats round Crabhaven, we aren't the only men to lose their
patience with divers divers divers. We want a proper law to control them.".
  "This is an interrogation, not a political platform." said a policeman, "You
form a tough armed militia enforcing laws of your own making - the rest of the
public have their rights also. You condemn all for the misdeeds of a few. The
public have had wars and wars for right of access to leisure space, wars against
farmers over footpaths, wars against gentry over moorlands. Now you're trying to
claim exclusive right to the sea around your village. I want the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth.".
  "The truth is that Westminster rarely does anything unless it is forced to."
said Captain Hurlock, "If we want anything doing properly, we must do it
ourselves, and the law won't let us do it. OK, we did what you saw us do at
Crabhaven harbour, we did what you saw us do at Smew Cove. In some countries
there are official sea-police to protect the fishing, with the same powers as we
assumed. We seized their kit, we were going to dump them on land without it, to
find some other hobby that doesn't plunder anyone's livelihood.".
  "We know nothing about this other matter. You can't pin it on anyone." added
Trelane.
  "The one straight across from me, I know his voice from Smew Cove that time!"
one of the diving group members exclaimed, "We arrived late at night from
Birmingham at Smew Cove, which we thought'd be far enough away from Crabhaven
village for us not to be in anybody's way. We were unloading our camping and
diving gear and pitching tents when a whistle blew and someone shouted `Hold it
right there!' and someone else shouted `Halt!'. Several men in dark blue
sailor's heavy waterproofs with badges on, nearly invisible in the dark, and
helmets with numbers on with visors down, and cloth masks, and shields and
pickaxe handles, charged out of bushes and up from boats which had crept into
the cove.
  `No diving permit, I suppose. Freeze!' one shouted, as they laid into us like
the riotsquad like they'd had training at it.
  I replied `Here? Who are you? I know the law on diving in England!', but the
one numbered 6 hit me on the elbow with his stick and grabbed me hard and
handcuffed my hands behind my back.
  #4 said `No, you don't! It's been changed! Too many complaints about shellfish
poaching and general nuisance! Permit from the nearest harbourmaster - specific
valid reason for diving - all dives to be logged and us to be given a copy of
the log - no spears or knives or lobsterhooks - one of us to go with you to
check you only do what you came for - fee to cover our time - ditto with amateur
Columbuses cluttering up our harbour and the locals waste time having to
lifeboat rescue incompetents. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything
that you say may be taken down and may be used as evidence against you.'.
  One of us started to protest, but #4 pulled his hands behind his back and
handcuffed him tightly, and said `Leave the `but'-ing to goats. Go back to
Birmingham and leave your kit, and we'll drop the matter. Else you go in the
cells and we prosecute.'.
  `Our gear! Please! We weren't doing anything.' one of us pleaded.
  #6 answered `You are. Then you want to be tried and hope the magistrate'll let
you off, or hope that Captain Hurlock'll give you a permit `post-facto'?
Unlikely. scuba diving is an addictant, and addictants must be forbidden or
strictly controlled. The charge is `unauthorized diving or possession of diving
gear in or near a controlled area'. We're impounding your diving gear. You with
the wetsuit on under your clothes, take it off before we cut it off you, trying
to sneak it past us like that. Then off with you, straight home at once, and
find yourselves a different hobby, and don't go near anyone's fishing area
again!'.
  Meanwhile one of them had driven up on a building site type dumper. They slung
all our diving and camping gear into it including our compressor (one of the
small sort for taking to diving sites) and sheeted the load over, and fastened
our boat and trailer to it. They beat us up and unhandcuffed us and went away.
So the last we knew of our valuable gear, which they had no right to take, was
their dirty dumper going away up the road away inland (I suppose they looped
back to wherever they came from), and likely, once they'd emptied our cylinders
to prevent explosions, our means of access to Cousteau's realm vanished into a
fishing port incinerator along with rubbish and flotsam and old fishboxes, such
a hot burn that even our aluminium alloy cylinders disappeared. Likely they
melted our lead weights down for net and pot weights, and bullets to shoot us
with. We want the value of our gear back!".
  "OK, OK, we can't do a thing." Captain Hurlock complained, "OK, we did the
other Smew Cove operation. Add it to your charge list.".
  "Yes, we will." said an interrogator.
  "Here we go again!" said a diver, "Another war to hold onto leisure space. You
don't own the sea, and you aren't going to stop us from using it. You take
shellfish undersized and with eggs on. There's too many of you, overfishing. And
pollution. And you blame us. Diving scientists have found out countless things
outside the understanding of sea-workmen whose minds go no further than prices
at the fish market.".
  "What pollution? Only farms at the back of us!" said Meols angrily.
  "Pesticides! Sheep dip! If it kills sheep scab mite, it'll kill shellfish! Go
moan to the farmers!" said the diver.
  "They don't dip sheep in the sea!" said Meols.
  "It washes down into the rivers!" said the diver, "Anyway, scuba divers are
routinely taught artificial respiration and external heart massage. Quite often
they're the only people on the beach that know these basic bits of first aid, if
someone collapses or seems to have drowned. And once on a beach someone got
stuck in a patch of quicksand and ...".
  "Pchah! Trippers saving other trippers!" Meols scoffed.
  "Yes, trippers!" said the interrogator, "Some people <do> want to get away
from the houses opposite and the corner shop sometimes.".
  "By coming round poaching and getting in the way cluttering up other people's
workplaces." said K.Walton.
  "... the tide was nearly up to his mouth, and rising." the diver continued,
"and nobody could pull him out. But there were some divers there, and one of
them put an aqualung on him, so he could breathe underwater until the fire
brigade came and flushed him free with a powerful fire hose, and so he was
saved." [This actually happened: Author].
  "That's enough." said the interrogator, "Lets go back to finding what offences
they committed. Back to the matter in hand. Lets try again. 4 divers near
Crabhaven are fired on from a boat with a high-powered ultrasonic beam gun, like
were found in your boats. You lot are the only people who regularly sail from
Crabhaven.".
  "Not us." said Meols and Captain Hurlock together.
  "Three dead." the interrogator persisted, "The survivor lost a leg and three
friends. Lives matter more than shellfish. Search your memories. I can keep this
up all night.".
  The interrogation continued, wearisome to report in full.

        These events were also discussed at a meeting at BSAC headquarters in Kingston
in London.
  "Well! That's a packet of news! At least we know why divers are disappearing!
It is as suspected! High-powered ultrasonic guns! Not as unlikely as `Star Trek'
after all! Locate and zap, one less scuba diver, no sound like a gun or
explosion. I only hope (1) there are no more being made, and (2) the police
round up those already loose." said one club representative.
  "And I don't like the idea of `Hurlockism' spreading, a rash of illegal highly
trained anti-diver squads among fishermen etc. A big lot of prosecutions before
we put a stop to it again." said another.
  "Hurlock's bunch have been sent to prison, and the court decided that `Hurlock
special' sonars are firearms and come under the firearms laws. A succession of
searches of boats, and prosecutions, and the sea'll become safe for the diving
public again. Often mere publicity puts a stop to funnybusiness." said another.
  "But still -", another added doubtfully, "There were no boats around when
eleven divers disappeared at Llanfairfechan that time, [ref 135] - the culprit
can't always be men in boats with those ultrasound guns.".
  [207] Captain Hurlock and his nine men were tried at Exeter Crown Court.
Outside the court, scuba divers and shellfishermen and their relatives
demonstrated against each other with placards: "Hurlock murderer" and "No sea
vigilantism" and suchlike against "Shellfishermen's livelihood against town
scuba divers' pleasure" and "We need the right to defend our fishing areas" and
suchlike. Police managed to keep the two factions apart. In court Captain
Hurlock gave the expected long speech in defence of his stand against
ever-encroaching diving and other holidaymakers; but Westminster's law stood,
and he and his nine men were sent to prison.