In fact, the staircase was new, too. It was black anodized metal. It hadn’t been that way before. This was a new descending staircase.
“Norm?”
“In a minute, Beth.”
He went to the console and started punching buttons. He had seen a file before, on habitat parameters or something like that. He finally found it:
DEEPHAB-8 MIPPR DESIGN PARAMETERS
5.024A Cylinder A
5.024B Cylinder B
5.024C Cylinder C
5.024D Cylinder D
5.024E Cylinder E
Choose one:
He chose Cyl D, and another screen appeared. He chose design plans. He got page after page of architectural drawings. He flicked through them, stabbing at the keys, until he came to the detail plans for the biological laboratory at the top of D Cyl.
Clearly shown in the drawings was a large sunlamp bank, hinged to fold back against the wall. It must have been there all the time; he just hadn’t ever noticed it. There were lots of other details he hadn’t noticed—like the emergency escape [[298]] hatch in the domed ceiling of the lab. And the fact that there was a second foldout bunk near the floor entrance. And a black anodized descending staircase.
You’re in a panic, he thought. And it has nothing to do with sunlamps and architectural drawings. It doesn’t e even have to do with sex. You’re in a panic because Beth is the only one left besides you, and Beth isn’t acting like herself.
In the corner of the screen, he watched the small clock tick backward, the seconds clicking off with agonizing slowness. Twelve more hours, he thought. I’ve just got to last twelve more hours, and everything will be all right.
He was hungry, but he knew there wasn’t any food. He was tired, but there wasn’t anyplace for him to sleep. Both E and C Cylinders were flooded, and he didn’t want to go upstairs with Beth. Norman lay down on the floor of D Cyl, beside Harry on the couch. It was cold and damp on the floor. For a long time he couldn’t sleep.
0900 HOURS
The pounding, that terrifying pounding, and the shaking of the floor awakened him abruptly. He rolled over and got to his feet, instantly alert. He saw Beth standing by the monitors. “What is it?” he cried. “What is it?”
“What is what?” Beth said.
She seemed calm. She smiled at him. Norman looked around. The alarms hadn’t gone off; the lights weren’t flashing.
“I don’t know, I thought—I don’t know …” He trailed off.
“You thought we were under attack again?” she said.
He nodded.
[[299]] “Why would you think that, Norman?” she said.
Beth was looking at him again in that odd way. An appraising way, her stare very direct and cool. There was no hint of seductiveness to her. If anything, she conveyed the suspiciousness of the old Beth: You’re a man, and you’re a problem.
“Harry’s still unconscious, isn’t he? So why would you think we were being attacked?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was dreaming.”
Beth shrugged. “Maybe you felt the vibration of me walking on the floor,” she said. “Anyway, I’m glad you decided to sleep.”
That same appraising stare. As if there were something wrong with him.
“You haven’t slept enough, Norman.”
“None of us have.”
“You, particularly.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He had to admit he felt better now that he had slept for a couple of hours. He smiled. “Did you eat all the coffee and Danish?”
“There isn’t any coffee and Danish, Norman.”
“I know.”
“Then why would you say that?” she asked seriously.
“It was a joke, Beth.”
“Oh.”
“Just a joke. You know, a humorous reflection on our condition?”
“I see.” She was working with the screens. “By the way, what did you find out about the balloon?”
“The balloon?”
“The surface balloon. Remember we talked about it?” He shook his head. He didn’t remember.
“Before I went out to the sub, I asked about the control codes to send a balloon to the surface, and you said you’d look in the computer and see if you could find how to do it.”
“I did?”
“Yes, Norman. You did.”
He thought back. He remembered how he and Beth had [[300]] lifted Harry’s inert, surprisingly heavy body off the floor, setting him on the couch, and how they had staunched the flow of blood from his nose while Beth had started an intravenous line, which she knew how to do from her work with lab animals. In fact, she had made a joke, saying she hoped Harry fared better than her lab animals, since they usually ended up dead. Then Beth had volunteered to go to the sub, and he had said he’d stay with Harry. That was what he remembered. Nothing about any balloons.
“Sure,” Beth said. “Because the communication said we were supposed to acknowledge transmission, and that means a radio balloon sent to the surface. And we figured, with the storm abating, the surface conditions must be calm enough to allow the balloon to ride without snapping the wire. So it was a question of how to release the balloons. And you said you’d look for the control commands.”
“I really don’t remember,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Norman, we have to work together in these last few hours,” Beth said.
“I agree, Beth. Absolutely.”
“How are you feeling now?” she said.
“Okay. Pretty good, in fact.”
“Good,” she said. “Hang in there, Norman. It’s only a few more hours.”
She hugged him warmly, but when she released him, he saw in her eyes that same detached, appraising look.
An hour later, they figured out how to release the balloon. They distantly heard a metallic sizzle as the wire unwound from the outside spool, trailing behind the inflated balloon as it shot toward the surface. Then there was a long pause.
“What’s happening?” Norman said.
“We’re a thousand feet down,” Beth said. “It takes a while for the balloon to get to the surface.”
Then the screen changed, and they got a readout of surface conditions. Wind was down to fifteen knots. Waves were [[301]] running six feet. Barometric pressure was 20.9. Sunlight was recorded.
“Good news,” Beth said. “The surface is okay.”
Norman was staring at the screen, thinking about the fact that sunlight was recorded. He had never longed for sunlight before. It was funny, what you took for granted. Now the thought of seeing sunlight struck him as unbelievably pleasurable. He could imagine no greater joy than to see sun and clouds, and blue sky.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“Me, too,” Beth said. “But it won’t be long now.”
Pong! pong! pong! pong!
Norman was checking Harry, and he spun at the sound. “What is it, Beth?”
Pong! pong! pong! pong!
“Take it easy,” Beth said, at the console. “I’m just figuring out how to work this thing.”
Pong! pong! pong! pong!
“Work what?”
“The side-scanning sonar. False-aperture sonar. I don’t know why they call it ‘false-aperture.’ Do you know what that refers to, ‘false-aperture’?”
Pong! pong! pong! pong!
“No, I don’t,” Norman said. “Turn it off, please.” The sound was unnerving.
“It’s marked ‘FAS,’ which I think stands for ‘false-aperture sonar,’ but it also says ‘side- scanning.’ It’s very confusing.”
“Beth, turn it off!”
Pong! pong! pong! pong!
“Sure, of course,” Beth said.
“Why do you want to know how to work that, anyway?” Norman said. He felt irritable, as if she’d intentionally annoyed him with that sound.
“Just in case,” Beth said.
“In case what, for Christ’s sake? You said yourself that [[302]] Harry’s unconscious. There aren’t going to be any more attacks.”
“Take it easy, Norman,” Beth said. “I want to be prepared, that’s all.”
0720 HOURS
He couldn’t talk her out of it. She insisted on going outside and wiring the explosives around the ship. It was an absolutely fixed idea in her mind.
“But why, Beth?” he kept saying.
“Because I’ll feel better after I do it,” she said.
“But there isn’t any reason to do it.”
“I’ll feel better if I do,” she insisted, and in the end he couldn’t stop her.
He saw her now, a small figure with a single glowing light from her helmet, moving from one crate of explosives to another. She opened each crate and removed large yellow cones which looked rather like the cones that highway repair trucks used. These cones were wired together, and when the wiring was completed a small red light glowed at the tip.
He saw small red lights all up and down the length of the ship. It made him uneasy.
When she left, he had said to her, “But you won’t wire up the explosives near the habitat.”
“No, Norman. I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I told you, I won’t. If it’s going to upset you, I won’t.”
“It’s going to upset me.”
“Okay, okay.”
Now the red lights were strung along the length of the ship, starting at the dimly visible tail, which rose out of the coral [[303]] bottom. Beth moved farther north, toward the rest of the unopened crates.
Norman looked at Harry, who snored loudly but who remained unconscious. He paced back and forth in D Cyl, and then went to the monitors.
The screen blinked.
I AM COMING.
Oh God, he thought. And in the next moment he thought, How can this be happening? It can’t be happening. Harry was still out cold. How could it be happening?
I AM COMING FOR YOU.
“Beth!”
Her voice sounded tinny on the intercom.
“Yes, Norman.”
“Get the hell out of there.”
DO NOT BE AFRAID, the screen said.
“What is it, Norman?” she said.
“I’m getting something on the screen.”
“Check Harry. He must be waking up.”
“He’s not. Get back here, Beth.”
I AM COMING NOW.
“All right, Norman, I’m heading back,” she said.
“Fast, Beth.”
But he didn’t need to say that; already he could see her light bouncing as she ran across the bottom. She was at least a hundred yards from the habitat. He heard her breathing hard on the intercom.
“Can you see anything, Norman?”
“No, nothing.” He was straining to look toward the horizon, where the squid had always appeared. The first thing had always been a green glow on the horizon. But he saw no glow now.
Beth was panting.
“I can feel something, Norman. I feel the water … surging … strong. …”
The screen flashed:
I WILL KILL YOU.
“Don’t you see anything out here?” Beth said.
“No. I don’t see anything at all.” He saw Beth, alone on the muddy bottom. Her light the solitary focus of his attention.
[[304]] “I can feel it, Norman. It’s close. Jesus God. What about the alarms?”
“Nothing, Beth.”
“Jesus.” Her breath came in hissing gasps as she ran. Beth was in good shape, but she couldn’t exert herself like that in this atmosphere. Not for long, he thought. Already he could see she was moving more slowly, the helmet lamp bobbing more slowly.
“Norman?”
“Yes, Beth. I’m here.”
“Norman, I don’t know if I can make it.”
“Beth, you can make it. Slow down.”
“It’s here, I can feel it.”
“I don’t see anything, Beth.”
He heard a rapid sharp clicking sound. At first he thought it was static on the line, and then he realized it was her teeth chattering as she shivered. With this exertion she should be getting overheated, but instead she was getting cold. He didn’t understand.
“—cold, Norman.”
“Slow down, Beth.”
“Can’t—talking—close—”
She was slowing down, despite herself. She had come into the area of the habitat lights, and she was no more than ten yards from the hatch, but he could see her limbs moving slowly, clumsily.
And now at last he could see something swirling the muddy sediment behind her, in the darkness beyond the lights. It was like a tornado, a swirling cloud of muddy sediment. He couldn’t see what was inside the cloud, but he sensed the power within it.
“Close—Nor—”
Beth stumbled, fell. The swirling cloud moved toward her.
I WILL KILL YOU NOW.
Beth got to her feet, looked back, saw the churning cloud bearing down on her. Something about it filled Norman with a deep horror, a horror from childhood, the stuff of nightmares.
“Normannnnnn …”
[[305]] Then Norman was running, not really knowing what he was going to do, but propelled by the vision he had seen, thinking only that he had to do something, he had to take some action, and he went through B into A and looked at his suit but there wasn’t time and the black water in the open hatch was spitting and swirling and he saw Beth’s gloved hand below the surface, flailing, she was right there beneath him, and she was the only other one, and without thinking he jumped into the black water and went down.
The shock of the cold made him want to scream; it tore at his lungs. His whole body was instantly numb, and he felt a second of hideous paralysis. The water churned and tossed him like a great wave; he was powerless to fight it; his head banged on the underside of the habitat. He could see nothing at all.
He reached for Beth, throwing his arms blindly in all directions. His lungs burned. The water spun him in circles, upended him.
He touched her, lost her. The water continued to spin him. He grabbed her. Something. An arm. He was already losing feeling, already feeling slower and stupider. He pulled. He saw a ring of light above him: the hatch. He kicked his legs but he did not seem to move. The circle came no closer.
He kicked again, dragging Beth like a dead weight. Perhaps she was dead. His lungs burned. It was the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. He fought the pain, and he fought the angry churning water and he kept kicking toward the light, that was his only thought, to kick to the light, to come closer to the light, to reach the light, the light, the light. …
The light.
The images were confusing. Beth’s suited body clanging on the metal, inside the airlock. His own knee bleeding on the metal of the hatch, the drops of blood spattering. Beth’s shaking hands reaching for her helmet, twisting it, trying to get the helmet unlocked. Hands shaking. Water in the hatch, sucking, surging. Lights in his eyes. A terrible pain [[306]] somewhere. Rust very close to his face, a sharp edge of metal. Cold metal. Cold air. Lights in his eyes, dimming. Fading. Blackness.
The sensation of warmth was pleasant. He heard a hissing roar in his ears. He looked up and saw Beth, out of her suit, looming large above him, adjusting the big space heater, turning the power up. She was still shivering, but she was turning up the heat. He closed his eyes. We made it, he thought. We’re still together. We’re still okay. We made it. He relaxed.
There was a crawly sensation over his body. From the cold, he thought, his body warming from the cold. The crawly sensation was not pleasant. And the hissing was not pleasant, either; it was sibilant, intermittent.
Something slithered softly under his chin as he lay on the deck. He opened his eyes and saw a silvery white tube, and then he focused and saw the tiny beady eyes, and the flicking tongue. It was a snake.
A sea snake.
He froze. He looked down, moving only his eyes. His entire body was covered with white snakes.
The crawly sensation came from dozens of snakes, coiling around his ankles, sliding between his legs, over his chest. He felt a cool slithering motion across his forehead. He closed his eyes, feeling horror as the snake body moved over his face, down his nose, brushed over his lips, then moved away.
He listened to the hissing of the reptiles and thought of how poisonous Beth had said they were. Beth, he thought, where is Beth?
He did not move. He felt snakes coiling around his neck, slipping over his shoulder, sliding between the fingers of his hands. He did not want to open his eyes. He felt a surge of nausea.
God, he thought. I’m going to throw up.
He felt snakes under his armpit, and felt snakes slipping past his groin. He burst into a cold sweat. He fought nausea. Beth, he thought. He did not want to speak. Beth …
[[307]] He listened to the hissing and then, when he couldn’t stand it any more, he opened his eyes and saw the mass of coiling, writhing white flesh, the tiny heads, the flicking forked tongues. He closed his eyes again.
He felt one crawling up the leg of his jumpsuit, moving against his bare skin.
“Don’t move, Norman.”
It was Beth. He could hear the tension in her voice. He looked up, could not see her, only her shadow.
He heard her say, “Oh God, what time is it?” and he thought, The hell with the time, who cares what time it is? It didn’t make any sense to him. “I have to know the time,” Beth was saying. He heard her feet moving on the deck. “The time …”
She was moving away, leaving him!
The snakes slid over his ears, under his chin, past his nostrils, the bodies damp and slithering.
Then he heard her feet on the deck, and a metallic clang as she threw open the hatch. He opened his eyes to see her bending over him, grabbing the snakes in great handfuls, throwing them down the hatch into the water. Snakes writhed in her hands, twisted around her wrists, but she shook them off, tossed them aside. Some of the snakes didn’t land in the water and coiled on the deck. But most of the snakes were off his body now.
One more crawling up his leg, toward his groin. He felt it moving quickly backward—she was pulling it out by the tail!
“Jesus, careful—”