Deep Storm

"I gather that's what you're here to tell us about."

Crane glanced around at the assembled scientists. "How many of you here have classified clearance?"

Two-Vanderbilt included-raised their hands.

Through his shock and weariness, Crane realized he was about to break all the security protocols he had signed. He also realized that he did not care in the slightest.

Quickly, he sketched out their current situation: the true nature of the dig; Asher's suspicions; the medical problem and its solution; the decrypted messages. Hui interjected here and there, clarifying a point or adding an observation of her own. As he spoke, Crane watched the faces of the scientists. A few-including those who had classified access-nodded now and then, as if some of their private suspicions were being confirmed. Others looked astonished, even incredulous, and-in one or two instances-a little skeptical.

"Korolis has taken military command of the Facility," he concluded. "I don't know what he's done with Admiral Spartan. But Korolis is in Marble Three now, hell-bent on penetrating the Moho. From what I understand, it could happen during the current dive-at any moment, in fact."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Vanderbilt asked.

"We need to contact the surface. AmShale, or even better, the Pentagon. Get in touch with the people in charge, the ones that can put a stop to this madness."

"That's going to be difficult."

Crane glanced at the oceanographer. "Why?"

"We can't contact the surface. Not at present. I've already tried."

"What's wrong?"

"The Facility-to-surface communications gear is on deck seven. It's underwater."

"Damn," Crane muttered.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

"The escape pod," Ping said.

Everyone looked in her direction.

"What about it?" one of the scientists asked.

"If we can't contact the surface, then we'll just have to deliver the message in person."

"She's right," another scientist said. "We can't stay here. Not if what Dr. Crane says is true."

"And there's something else," Hui added. "If they're unable to repair the breach, the water level will keep rising outside."

"The Facility wasn't built to withstand the pressure at this depth," someone added. "It'll implode."

"The pod will hold a hundred people, give or take," said Vanderbilt. "That should easily accommodate everybody on the upper decks."

"What about the people in the classified areas?" Crane asked.

"Another reason for us to get to the surface as quickly as possible," Vanderbilt replied. "Communications are down. The faster we get topside, the faster they can get back here to effect rescue and repair."

Crane glanced around the group. People were nodding.

"It's settled, then," said Vanderbilt. "Let's start transferring perso

"I'll take deck nine," Crane said. "I know it better than I know the others."

Vanderbilt nodded. "Meet us back here as quickly as you can."

Crane turned to Ping. "You'll help with the boarding?"

She nodded.

"I'll be right back." He gave her hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. Then he turned, jogged quickly out of the hall, and vanished from sight.

57

In the cramped, sweat-heavy confines of Marble Three, Rafferty swiveled his shaggy head to one side. "Sir."

Korolis glanced at the engineer.

"Sensors are registering an anomaly in the sedimentary matrix."

"Where?"

"Less than two meters below the present dig interface."

"How's the tu

"A little ornery, sir. We're dropping the checksum on every other data packet now."

"Ease it back to half speed. We don't want any foul-ups."

"Half speed, aye."

"Any specifics on the anomalous readings?"

"Nothing yet, sir. The water's too sedimented; we need to get closer."

"What about the ultrasound?"

"Unknown interference from below, sir."

Korolis massaged his temples, cursing the limitations of the equipment. The closer they got to the anomaly, the less reliable their instruments became.

It was hot inside the Marble, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead before fitting his eyes to the rubber housing of the external viewscreen. He activated the spotlight beneath the Marble. Instantly, the tiny screen displayed a perfect hurricane of silt and rock: with the boring machine digging away the sediment beneath them and the vacuum tube unit sucking it up for distribution across the seabed, the water surrounding them was completely opaque. Too sedimented, hell. He snapped off the spotlight and pulled back, fingertips tapping impatiently on the viewscreen handles.

From outside there came a muffled boom, as if from a great distance away. Dr. Flyte had fitted another reinforcing band into place.

The radio squawked. "Marble Three, this is Dive Control."

Korolis plucked the radio from its cradle. "Go ahead, Dive Control."

"Status report on the explosion, sir."

"Let's have it."

"Apparently, there was a breach in the south pressure spoke."

"And the Facility?"

"Deck eight is flooded and almost fifty percent of deck seven is underwater."

"Deck seven? That's not possible-each floor is designed to be absolutely watertight."

"Yes, sir, but because of the location of the breach, water's been coming down through the ventilation shafts. There's a report the explosion was caused by-"

"What about the repair parties? Is it under control?"

"The watertight hatches on the decks immediately above and below the breach have all been sealed. The inflow of water has been stopped."

"Good work."

"But water is rising within the dome cavity, sir. And if any more of deck seven becomes flooded, the Barrier will potentially come under stress."

Korolis felt pain throb across his scalp. "Then the breach in the pressure spoke must be repaired, and fast."

"Sir-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses. Take as many repair crews as you need. Get it done."

"Commander," Rafferty murmured in his ear.

"Stand by," Korolis snapped into the radio. "Yes, Dr. Rafferty?"

"I read incoming movement."

"From where?"

"I'm not sure, sir. A minute ago, nothing. They just appeared."

Korolis blinked. "Sentinels?"

"Unknown. If they are, they're much larger than the others, sir. And moving fast."

Korolis snugged his face against the eyepiece once again, snapped on the exterior light. "Secure the boring machine. I can't see a damn thing in all this murk."

"Aye, aye. Securing tu

Korolis peered into the viewscreen. Slowly, the storm of sand and sediment subsided. And then they appeared, like apparitions emerging from a fog.

There were two of them. They had the same ineffable exteriors as their smaller brethren in the Facility: a dazzling, unearthly kaleidoscope of shifting colors, amber and scarlet and hyacinth and a thousand others, so bright in the black depths they threatened to overload the camera's CCD sensors. But these were much larger-three feet long, perhaps four, with glittering crystalline tails that whipped and twitched behind them and dozens of tendrils floating out on all sides. They drifted to a stop just below and to each side of the Marble. As Korolis stared, they floated languorously, as if waiting.

He had never seen anything so beautiful. Korolis felt his headache, the unpleasant prickly warmth that enveloped him, every physical irritant, begin to fall away under their spell.

"They've come to greet us," he whispered.

His radio squawked again. "Sir?"

Korolis forced himself away from the viewscreen. As he did so, the headache returned, full force, so strong that he felt a spasm of nausea. He picked up the radio with a stab of anger.