35
A week later, they arrived, and everybody was eager to get
to work. They started by taking readings from the surface,
from a launch that rose and fell with the swell of the waves.
Field was with him at first, taking readings of his own and
double-checking Altman’s, though he became greener and
greener as the afternoon went on. He spent the last hour of
the day hanging over the launch’s side, retching.
By the next morning, a groaning, vomit-flecked Field had
been shipped back to the floating compound and it was just
Hendricks and Altman. They brought the bathyscaphe down
a thousand meters and took their readings there, waiting
for confirmation from Markoff to descend farther. When it
came, they went down to two thousand meters and
repeated the process.
“Seems straightforward,” said Altman.
Hendricks shrugged. “More or less,” he said. “Only
problem is that down this deep, communication gets
erratic. It’s hard to know if they’ll receive the data we’re
sending.”
“We might be cut off?” asked Altman.
“It comes and goes,” said Hendricks. “Really nothing to
worry about as long as nothing goes wrong.”
Through the front observation porthole, Altman thought he
could see pinpricks of light from the excavation below, from
the robotic diggers. But it was too far away to make
anything out. “We could go down to three thousand meters,
take readings, and then come back up,” said Altman.
“We’ve got more than enough air for it. You’re the boss. Up
to you.”
Hendricks said, “Have you heard the stories about the
other bathyscaphe?”
“I’ve seen the vid,” Altman said.
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know,” said Altman.
“Doesn’t it worry you at all?”
“I don’t know,” said Altman. “I want to know what
happened, but I’m not worried exactly. Does it worry you?”
Hendricks nodded. “Let’s take it slow. There’s no point in
rushing things,” he said. “On the other hand, if I’m reading
the data right, the pulse signal is starting again.”
“Really?” said Altman, trying to keep the excitement out
of his voice. “Are you certain?”
Hendricks hesitated, then nodded slowly. “It’s very slight
—I caught it at two thousand meters but not at one
thousand—but it’s there.”
“What does it mean that it’s back?” asked Altman.
“Maybe we should keep going down after all. Who knows
how long it will last? We need to record it while it’s still
broadcasting.”
But Hendricks had one hand cupped over his earpiece.
“Too late,” he said. “They’re ordering us back up.”
They looked at each other a long moment. “You said
yourself that communications are intermittent,” said Altman.
“How will they know we got the message?”
Hendricks shook his head. “If we don’t get the okay to go
down to three thousand meters, we’re to go back to the
surface anyway. That’s protocol. If we disobey, what do you
think the chances are of them letting us near a bathyscaphe
again? We can’t do it.”
A half dozen counterarguments fired through his head
and then quickly dissolved. Hendricks was right. They had
no choice. The signal would have to wait.
A contingent of guards was waiting for them by the time
they opened the hatch and stepped out in the submarine
bay. They were hustled down to the command center, which
was already occupied not just by Markoff but also by a half
dozen researchers, all of them part of Markoff’s inner circle.
Not men from Chicxulub. They looked stern, serious.
“The pulse signal has started again?” asked Markoff.
“You’re sure about this?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t we be?” said Altman. “The
instruments don’t lie.” He gestured at the other researchers.
“But you apparently wanted a second opinion. Why don’t
you ask them?”
“It’s much weaker than it was before,” said one of the
men.
“We noticed,” said Altman.
“Maybe it’s not the same signal after all,” said another.
“Maybe it’s static and feedback from the MROVs and
robotic units that are handling the excavation.”
“Just barely possible,” said Altman. “But not at all likely.
It’s the same signal.”
“Did you feel anything unusual? Sense anything
strange?” asked Markoff.
Altman shook his head. “No,” he said.
“What about you, Hendricks?”
“I don’t know, sir,” said Hendricks.
“You don’t know?”
“When I reached two thousand meters, I started to feel a
little strange. It felt like a premonition or something.”
“Stevens,” said Markoff, and one of the researchers
came forward. He was distinguished looking, but had a
relaxed, kind face. “Take Hendricks and work up a full
psychological profile. If you get any sense of a problem,
you’re authorized to take him off duty. If he looks fine to you,
we’ll have both of them in the bathyscaphe first thing
tomorrow.”
That night Altman’s dreams began again. He woke up
drenched in sweat in the middle of the night and found he
could not move. He was jittery, little flashes of light going off
behind his eyelids, and he had a sense of dread that
refused to leave him. It took a long time for him to become
aware that he wasn’t back at his house in Chicxulub, but
when he did, the imagined shape of the room around him
became amorphous and vague.
His heart began to pound heavily, and he could hear the
blood in his ears. The space around him remained
undetermined in the darkness. It was like he was in a place
that wasn’t a place at all, like he was suspended in a void.
He tried again to move but still couldn’t. Am I still
dreaming? he wondered.
And then, only very slowly did he realize where he might
be, in the floating compound, that sound just beside him the
sound of Ada breathing in her sleep.
And suddenly he found he could move again. He got up,
drank a glass of water, and got back into the bed again.
Ada moaned in her sleep. He wrestled with trying to fall
back asleep, when he heard a knock on his door.
It was Stevens.
“Altman, isn’t it?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Altman said.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Altman slipped into his pants and a shirt and tiptoed out
of the room, following Stevens down the hall. The man
keyed an empty lab open, ushered Altman in.
“What’s this about?” Altman asked.
“You haven’t noticed anything unusual about Hendricks,
have you?” asked Stevens.
“Is anything wrong?”
refused to leave him. It took a long time for him to become
aware that he wasn’t back at his house in Chicxulub, but
when he did, the imagined shape of the room around him
became amorphous and vague.
His heart began to pound heavily, and he could hear the
blood in his ears. The space around him remained
undetermined in the darkness. It was like he was in a place
that wasn’t a place at all, like he was suspended in a void.
He tried again to move but still couldn’t. Am I still
dreaming? he wondered.
And then, only very slowly did he realize where he might
be, in the floating compound, that sound just beside him the
sound of Ada breathing in her sleep.
And suddenly he found he could move again. He got up,
drank a glass of water, and got back into the bed again.
Ada moaned in her sleep. He wrestled with trying to fall
back asleep, when he heard a knock on his door.
It was Stevens.
“Altman, isn’t it?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Altman said.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Altman slipped into his pants and a shirt and tiptoed out
of the room, following Stevens down the hall. The man
keyed an empty lab open, ushered Altman in.
“What’s this about?” Altman asked.
“You haven’t noticed anything unusual about Hendricks,
have you?” asked Stevens.
“Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing wrong with the scans,” said Stevens. “Nothing
wrong with the tests either. But there’s still something
bothering me. I can’t quite put my finger on it. He seems
normal, stable, but different somehow.”
“He seems the same to me,” said Altman.
“Maybe it’s just the pressure,” said Stevens. “Maybe he’s
nervous. But it feels like he’s holding something back.”
Altman nodded.
“Since you’re going to be alone with him in the
bathyscaphe and the one to suffer if things go wrong, I
thought I’d talk to you about it.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said Altman. “He seems fine to
me. I’ve never had any problems with him on a dive, never
sensed any nervousness. I trust him. No,” he said. “I’m not
worried about him. In fact, I’m a lot less worried about him
than I’d be being confined in the bathyscaphe with many of
the other people in this facility.”
Stevens nodded. “We want to be careful,” he said. “You
can understand that, considering what happened with the
last bathyscaphe. We don’t want anything going wrong. All
right,” he said, “I’ll tell them we can move ahead.”
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