Lincoln Child - Deep Storm

"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 personnel to the escape pod. I'll need some volunteers to make sweeps of decks nine through eleven, send any stragglers here."

"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.

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 tunnel-boring machine behaving?"

"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 tunnel-boring machine."

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.

"What is it?" he barked.

"Sir, we've received a report from the upper decks. It appears some of the scientists are mobilizing."

"Mobilizing?"

"Yes, sir. They are rounding up staff and crew and directing them to the staging area outside the escape pod. They appear to be planning a mass evacuation."

At this, Flyte gave a delighted cackle. "'Gray-eyed Athena, send them a favorable breeze,'" he intoned quietly.

Korolis held the mike close to his lips, spoke in a controlled voice. "Nobody is abandoning this Facility on my watch. Doesn't Chief Woburn have personnel on the upper decks?"

"Yes, sir. They're in the stairwells to deck eight, assisting in the damage control efforts."

"Well, deal with the situation. Korolis out."

"Very good, sir." The radio gave a chirrup, then lapsed into silence.

Korolis turned back to Rafferty. "Distance to the anomaly?"

"One meter directly beneath the dig interface."

"Can you get a read on it?"

"Checking." The engineer bent over his instrumentation. "It appears to be composed of some super-dense material."

"Size?"

"Unknown. It extends in all directions."

"A new layer of strata?"

"Highly unlikely, sir. The surface appears to be perfectly regular."

Perfectly regular. One meter directly beneath. The words set Korolis's heart racing.

He absently wiped his forehead again, licked his lips. "What's the status of the air-jetting system?"

"One hundred percent operational."

"Very well. Have the tunnel-boring machine dig the lateral retaining tunnel. Then maneuver it and the Doodlebug into the tunnel and deploy the stabilizer arm."

"Aye, sir."

Korolis looked from the engineer to Dr. Flyte and back again. Then, without another word, he swiveled back to the eyepiece.

It took Crane twenty minutes to complete his sweep of deck 9. Normally bustling at all hours of the day and night, it now looked like a ghost town. The theater was a graveyard of empty seats; the library, utterly deserted. The PX was closed, its windows dark; the tables of the sidewalk café unused and lonely. Crane found a worker sleeping in a carrel in the multimedia nexus, and a lone technician in the Medical Suite, where he stopped to retrieve a portable medical kit. He sent both on ahead to deck 12.