Deep Storm (42 page)

Korolis shifted in his seat. Hed chosen Flyte for this dive because as with Rafferty hed wanted the very best. And who better to man the controls of the robotic arm than its inventor?

Another throb of pain seared his temples, but Korolis willed himself to ignore it. Nothing was going to get in the way of completing this dive; he would not allow his work to be impeded by human frailty. Something momentous was about to happen.

And it was entirely fitting that he be here in person, to make the discovery himself. After all, nobody else could be trusted. Admiral Spartan had proven himself weak dangerously weak. This was not a time for going soft or for second-guessing. Spartan had been doing too much of both, lately, to retain the helm of an operation as critical as this one.

In recent days, it had grown clear to Korolis that the admiral was becoming unfit for command. The surprise, even dismay, hed shown at Ashers death the single greatest impediment to their progress had been only the first sign. And his unmanly grief over what happened to Marble One, in truth just a casualty of war. But the admirals willingness to listen to the poisonous, traitorous words of Peter Crane that could not be borne.

At the thought of Crane, Koroliss expression darkened. Hed known Crane would be a troublemaker from the first time hed met him in the Medical Suite. Monitoring the doctors quarters, overhearing the long conversation with Asher, had merely cemented his conviction. All that cowardly talk about danger, about scrubbing the missionErasing Ashers hard disk, as he himself had done and isolating the equally suspicious Hui Ping so she could not assist with any data retrieval should have been enough to keep the old crackpots crazy ideas, his alarmist pet theories, from infecting others. How was he to know that bastard Crane would be able to retrieve the data? If in fact he had, if it wasnt all a lie; no doubt the man was capable of anything

He calmed himself with the thought that the man was in the brig by now. There would be plenty of time to deal with him later.

The radio crackled. Dive Control to Marble Three.

Korolis took the mike. Dive Control, go ahead.

Sir, theres a situation we need to brief you on.

Proceed.

A few moments ago, the Facility was hit by what appears to have been an explosion.

An explosion?

Yes, sir.

What kind of explosion? Machinery failure? Detonation?

Unknown at the present time, sir.

What was the location?

Deck eight, sir.

Whats the present status?

No damage reports have come back yet, sir automatic detectors are off-line and the situations still a little fluid. Power has been fully restored. There seems to be some issues with the environmental controls. Damage control and rescue teams have been dispatched; were waiting for a sit rep.

Well, pass it on when you get it. Meanwhile, have Chief Woburn take a squad up to do his own recon.

Very good, sir.

Hades is relentless and unyielding, Dr. Flyte said, more to himself than anyone else. Then he lapsed into a quiet, singsong recitation in what Korolis assumed to be ancient Greek.

Over and out. Korolis replaced the mike. Woburn could be relied on to deal effectively with the situation he and his agents had been carefully selected for their reliability and their devotion to him, forged over countless clandestine missions in past years.

He now realized that, in the back of his mind, hed always known this would happen: that he would need the loyalty and support of the black ops team; that at the ultimate moment he would be here, inside the Marble, to claim the prize.

Rafferty looked over from his perch. Two minutes to interface.

Spin up the tunnel-boring machine. Korolis turned to the old man. Dr. Flyte?

The cybernetics engineer fell silent, glancing back with his bright blue eyes.

Commence final diagnostics on the robotic array, if you please.

The response was another quotation. Son of Atreus, what manner of speech has escaped the barrier of your teeth? But a little grudgingly Flyte busied himself at his station.

As Korolis turned back to his own control panel, he allowed himself a grim little smile. Let Chief Woburn clean up the mess overhead. His own destiny lay below three hundred meters beneath their feet.

Chapter 54

Crane took an involuntary step backward, bumping his shoulders hard against the metal flank of the Facility. He stared in disbelief.

The platform they stood on jutted out roughly thirty feet over the sea floor, into which the base of the Facility had been embedded. Below, a bizarre, almost lunar landscape spread out toward the dome: the exposed sea bed. It rose and fell crazily, in small, alien hills and valleys and ripples, partly submerged. It was a dark-chocolate color, and in the half-light of the dome it shone with an eerie luminescence. It appeared to be made up of a fine, muddy, foul-smelling silt.

But this was not what arrested his horrified gaze. It was the view above.

The dome that surrounded and protected the Facility rose in a gentle curve until it was almost lost from sight, far above. To one side of their little platform, a vertical line of heavy rungs had been bolted onto the Facilitys outer skin. These rose, in a straight and unbroken line, up the sheer metal face. Near the top of the Facility, Crane could barely make out the narrow catwalk that led out to the receiving platform for the Tub the catwalk he himself had crossed the week before. Between this catwalk and their own small ledge, Crane could see one of the massive, tube-shaped pressure spokes that ran like a hollow skewer between the dome and the Facility. This, too, he had seen before.

Except now it looked very different. At the spot where the spoke met the wall of the Facility, torrents of water were spitting and boiling outward and downward in huge, angry spumes. This was the source of the awful roar: a violent cataract of water, jetting from a rent in the pressure spoke with the murderous intensity of a machine gun. Even as he stared, the tear seemed to widen and the gush of seawater increase.

Although half dazed by the awful sight, Crane was immediately aware of several things. Whether structural failure or sabotage, this was the explosion hed heard. And despite the business-as-usual atmosphere inside the Facility, things were far from all right; if damage control hadnt realized that by now, they would at any second.

With this single glimpse, all Cranes fears, hopes, and goals reversed themselves in an instant.

For a moment he turned instinctively toward the hatch, as if to duck back inside and warn the workers in the Drilling Complex of their peril. Then he remembered that the escape hatch was one-way: reentry at this level was impossible. Besides, the sea floor beneath them was now almost entirely covered in black water, and more was raining down all around them from the widening breach above; within minutes, their tiny platform and the exit hatch would surely be underwater

He suddenly became aware of a sharp pain in his hand. He looked over to see that Hui Ping was squeezing it as she stared upward at the whirling kaleidoscope of water, her face and hair damp from spray.

He gently freed his hand. Come on, he said. We cant stay here.

I cant do this, she murmured.

She had said much the same thing within the airlock. We have no choice, Crane replied.

Her eyes moved to his for a moment. Then she lowered them. Im afraid of heights, she said.

Crane stared at her. Shit. Oh, shit.

He took a deep breath. Then trying to ignore the furious storm of water overhead and the icy rain that fell around them he put a hand on her shoulders and stared kindly into her eyes. Theres no choice now, Hui. Youve got to.

But

Its the only way. Ill be right behind you. I promise.

She looked at him a moment longer, water streaming down her cheeks. Then she swallowed, gave a faint nod.

He turned her toward the gray metal wall of the Facility, placed her right hand on the lowest rung. Just take it one step at a time.

For a moment she remained motionless, and Crane wondered if her fear had immobilized her. Then slowly, tentatively she placed her left hand on the next rung; tested her grip; pulled herself up, fitting her left foot onto the lowest rung.

Thats it, he said encouragingly over the roar of water. Thats it.

She pulled herself up another few rungs and he began climbing as well, staying as close to her as possible. The rungs were cold and treacherously slippery. The smell of salt water was thick in his nostrils.

They climbed very slowly, their silence broken only by Huis faint gasps of effort. The roar grew louder, and Crane ventured another glance upward. Vast sheets of water were coruscating out from the breach now, curling and twisting away in downward spirals. A faint mist, born of the violently atomized water, was rising everywhere in ragged sheets; illuminated by the weak sodium lights, it looked ethereal and strange, treacherously beautiful.

Huis foot slipped, her shoe skidding dangerously close to Cranes face. She let out a cry and pressed herself tightly against the rungs.

I cant, she said. I cant.

Just take it easy, Crane said soothingly. Nice and slow. Dont look down.

Hui nodded without turning her head. Taking a fresh grip on the rungs, she began climbing again, breathing hard.

They continued upward at the same, plodding pace. Crane estimated theyd climbed about forty feet so far. The torrents of water were growing stronger, spattering hard against his hands and face. The closer they got to the actual breach, he knew, the more violent it would get.

Another minute or two of climbing, then Hui stopped, gasping. Need to rest.

No problem. Make sure youve got a secure grip, then lean in against the rungs. Youre doing great. Secretly, Crane was glad for a break, as well: his chest was heaving, and his fingers ached from gripping the cold metal rungs.

He guessed they were now probably just outside the Barrier. The skin of the Facility stretched out from them in all directions, a vast, gray monolithic cliff face of metal. Crane looked down, between his feet. The rungs they had already climbed fell away, a straight line leading into the spray and mist below. He could just make out the small platform they had first emerged onto, barely more than a speck far beneath him. Still farther down, at the extreme limits of visibility, the sea floor was now entirely covered by restless, roiling ocean.

Theres something I havent asked, he shouted over the roar of the water.

Hui kept her gaze on the metal rungs. What?

Where do we reenter the Facility?

Im not sure.

This stopped him. Excuse me?

I know theres one, maybe two access hatches on the upper floors. But I dont know what decks theyre on.

Fair enough. Crane wiped his dripping eyes, shook the water from his hair.

They had, he estimated, perhaps as many as a hundred more feet left to climb. From his precarious vantage point, he glanced uneasily up at the damaged pressure spoke. It was just two floors or so above them now, a massive, horizontal spar half obscured by the cascades that jetted from the rupture in its skin. The blizzard of water was so intense Crane was unable to tell if the Facility had been punctured, as well. He let his eye travel farther up the line of rungs. Luckily, they were bolted at some distance from the spoke. Even so, the rungs directly overhead were being lashed and buffeted by wave after wave of black seawater.

It would be a bitch to climb through that.

He felt his heart accelerating, and the muscles of his legs begin to spasm. He glanced away. The sight was paralyzing; if he didnt start moving again right away, he never would.

Lets get going, he called out over the cataract.