The slow, steady drip-drip-drip of water echoed along the companionway. Leading Artificer Blaine cocked his head to one side, trying to narrow down the source of the noise. He listened for a moment, then: "I think it's over here," he said, and pointed down the passage.
His companion frowned. "You sure?" He looked up and down the corridor,. Like all the others onboard the ship, it was long and cluttered with pipes, ductwork and lockers.
"We have to start somewhere, don't we?" Blaine tapped his spanner against his Number 8 trousers. "Come on, Mister Kraft."
The two sailors made their way down the passage; Blaine pausing every so often to listen for the splashing of water; trying to work out whether the sound was becoming louder or quieter. Kraft followed behind him, carrying a battered toolbox. Finally, Blaine stopped beside a grey locker. "It's in here," he said, and tapped the locker door with the head of his spanner.
The locker housed a cluster of pipes, all connected to a single manifold that was topped by a valve wheel. A pool of clear water lay at the bottom of the locker, fed by a steady drip from the valve. Blaine checked the labels that had been wrapped around the pipework. "It's one of the salt-water feeds," he announced. "That'll make our job easier." He glanced at Kraft. "This will be a learning experience for you. So - what do we do next?"
Kraft studied the pipework before answering. "I'd isolate at the valve and unseat the downstream junction. It's probably an o-ring that's gone, but the only way to be sure is to go in there and check."
"And?"
"We'll need to put down a spill barrier. That way there'll be less mopping up to do afterwards."
"Good. And we will have to replace that o-ring if we go in. You can go and get the bits we'll need."
Kraft grumbled but set off on his task. As the lower-ranked of the two, he had no choice. It wasn't long before he came back, bearing an armful of boxes. Then the two men set about their preparations for the job.
"Right." Blaine stood back and gave Kraft a questioning look.
"We isolate at the valve?"
"Go ahead."
Kraft paused, his lips moving as he recited some silent mantra. Then he grabbed hold of the valve wheel and twisted it to its endstop. "Done."
"So - unseat the pipework."
Kraft put his spanner around the sealing gland and, with a grunt, twisted it one way then the other. His face fell. "Oh."
"Wha - ?"
Blaine's question was cut short as a torrent of brine burst out of the gap in the pipework and onto Kraft, before flooding out of the locker and down the companionway.
