"What for?"
"I'm not convinced we've found everything that's there."
"It's a long way to the ship," Norman said.
"I know. But if we get a clear time without the squid, I might try it."
"Just to occupy your mind?"
"I guess you could say that." She glanced at her watch. "Norman, I'm going to get a couple of hours of sleep," she said. "Then we can draw straws to see who goes to the submarine."
"Okay."
"You seem depressed, Norman."
"I am."
"Me, too," she said. "This place feels like a tomb - and I've been prematurely buried."
She climbed the ladder to her laboratory, but apparently she didn't go to sleep, because after a few moments, he heard Tina's recorded voice on videotape saying, "Do you think they'll ever get the sphere open?"
And Beth replied, "Maybe. I don't know."
"It scares me."
The whirr of rewinding and a short delay, then: "Do you think they'll ever get the sphere open?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
"It scares me."
The tape was becoming an obsession with Beth.
He stared at the printouts on his lap, and then he looked at the screen. "Jerry?" he said. "Are you there?"
Jerry did not answer.
THE SUB
She was shaking his shoulder gently. Norman opened his eyes.
"It's time," Beth said.
"Okay." He yawned. God, he was tired. "How much time is left?"
"Half an hour."
Beth switched on the sensory array at the communications console, adjusted the settings.
"You know how to work all that stuff?" Norman said. "The sensors?"
"Pretty well. I've been learning it."
"Then I should go to the sub," he said. He knew Beth would never agree, that she would insist on doing the active thing, but he wanted to make the effort.
"Okay," she said. "You go. That makes sense."
He covered his surprise. "I think so, too."
"Somebody has to watch the array," she said. "And I can give you warning if the squid is coming."
"Right," he said. Thinking, Hell, she's serious. "I don't think this is one for Harry," Norman said.
"No, Harry's not very physical. And he's still asleep. I say, let him sleep."
"Right," Norman said.
"You'll need help with your suit," Beth said.
"Oh, that's right, my suit," Norman said. "The fan is broken in my suit."
"Fletcher fixed it for you," Beth said.
"I hope she did it right."
"Maybe I should go instead," Beth said.
"No, no. You watch the consoles. I'll go. It's only a hundred yards or so, anyway. It can't be a big deal."
"All clear now," she said, glancing at the monitors.
"Right," Norman said.
His helmet clicked in place, and beth tapped his faceplate, gave him a questioning look: was everything all right?
Norman nodded, and she opened the floor hatch for him. He waved goodbye and jumped into the chilly black water. On the sea floor, he stood beneath the hatch for a moment and waited to make sure he could hear his circulating fan. Then he moved out from beneath the habitat.
There were only a few lights on in the habitat, and he could see many thin lines of bubbles streaming upward, from the leaking cylinders.
"How are you?" Beth said, over the intercom. "Okay. You know the place is leaking?"
"It looks worse than it is," Beth said. "Trust me." Norman came to the edge of the habitat and looked across the hundred yards of open sea floor that separated him from DH-7. "How does it look? Still clear?"
"Still clear," Beth said.
Norman set out. He walked as quickly as he could, but he felt as if his feet were moving in slow motion. He was soon short of breath; he swore.
"What's the matter?"
"I can't go fast." He kept looking north, expecting at any moment to see the greenish glow of the approaching squid, but the horizon remained dark.
"You're doing fine, Norman. Still clear."
He was now fifty yards from the habitat-halfway there. He could see DH-7, much smaller than their own habitat, a single cylinder forty feet high, with very few portholes. Alongside it was the inverted dome, and the minisub.
"You're almost there," Beth said. "Good work."
Norman began to feel dizzy. He slowed his pace. He could now see markings on the gray surface of the habitat. There were all sorts of block-printed Navy stencils.
"Coast is still clear," Beth said. "Congratulations. Looks like you made it."
He moved under the DH-7 cylinder, looked up at the hatch. It was closed. He spun the wheel, pushed it open. He couldn't see much of the interior, because most of the lights were out. But he wanted to have a look inside. There might be something, some weapon, they could use.
"Sub first," Beth said. "You've only got ten minutes to push the button."
"Right."
Norman moved to the sub. Standing behind the twin screws, he read the name: Deepstar III. The sub was yellow, like the sub that he had ridden down, but its configuration was somewhat different. He found handholds on the side, pulled himself up into the pocket of air trapped inside the dome. There was a large acrylic bubble canopy on top of the sub for the pilot; Norman found the hatch behind, opened it, and dropped inside.
"I'm in the sub."
There was no answer from Beth. She probably couldn't hear him, surrounded by all this metal. He looked around the sub, thinking, I'm dripping wet. But what was he supposed to do, wipe his shoes before entering? He smiled at the thought. He found the tapes secured in an aft compartment. There was plenty of room for more, and plenty of room for three people. But Beth was right about going to the surface: the interior of the sub was crammed with instruments and sharp edges. If you got banged around in here it wouldn't be pleasant.