Miller closed his eyes for a brief second.

“And the drive system?” he asked.

“The bypass is holding,” I said. “But we need to bring you in. No more high-speed runs.”

“Understood,” Miller said. “We’re preparing to head to the dry dock now.”

“I’ll stay on board until we’re moored,” I said.

“Thank you,” Miller said.

I climbed down the ladder into the control room.

The crew was quiet, watching their consoles with intense focus.

The green glow of the sonar screens illuminated their faces.

I stood near the main ballast control panel, watching the digital gauges.

The pressure readings were steady.

The Silent Insignia project was dead, but the men who sailed her were alive.

I reached into my pocket and felt the frayed edges of Turner’s patch.

It was a reminder of how easily a system could be broken from the inside.

But it was also a reminder of what it took to fix it.

We moved slowly through the channel, the water parting around the bow.

By morning, the sun would rise over the river, and the investigation would begin in earnest.

But tonight, the silence of the river was enough.