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court rather than explosive decompression." He spoke into his com. "Can you find anything down there?" Page 141 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "I'm scanning all the way to the bottom, sir," the sonarizer on duty replied. "We're over an abyssal canyon. Drops eight thousand meters in spots, and it's fairly broad. But I'm not picking anything up. Either they're located in a cave in the side of the canyon, or beneath an overhang, or they have sophisticated anti-detection equipment. None of the towns reported anything." They never had time to, Cora thought. Hwoshien gave orders. A thick, stubby vessel was swung up and out of the suprafoil's hull, lowered into the water. It had curved wings laterally and straight paired ones above and below that gave it the appearance of a sunfish crossed with a Terran manta. Its hull was reinforced duralloy, the same material that made up the skin of starships. It could dive all the way to the bottom of the canyon, and considerably farther if need be. Usually it carried no weapons, being a creature of science and not of war. But along with the usual complement of exploratory devices, it also carried several small but powerfully shaped charges for rock detonation. One such charge properly placed could dent the submersible's own incredibly tough epidermis. Several properly placed could breach it. Or any similar hull. Hwoshien insisted on joining the exploration. Sam Mataroreva would go along in his capacity as the local authority's principal representative. Merced, Cora, and Rachael all were able to handle deep-diving submersibles, and in any case, had not come so far to be denied a look at their tormentors. The only argument over procedure arose when Rachael insisted on taking her neurophon. There was some acrimonious discussion between her and her mother in which "neuronics" and "neurotic" became confused, but eventually Rachael had her way. Cora had gained no support from her companions. The submersible was surprisingly roomy, designed for a crew of six. While it could not be called spacious, the five of them managed to move about without bumping into one another. And the gentle music provided by Rachael was welcomed by most as they commenced a long descent into total darkness. Mataroreva and Cora operated the controls. At three hundred meters Wenkoseemansa and Latehoht gave wishes and farewells before turning back. A cluster of large catodons continued to descend with the craft, turning back one by one as the air left them. But by now the submersible had long since entered the realm of night. Instrumentation continually probed the depths below, and continued to reveal nothing. Powerful lights flashed only on startled fish and other denizens of the dark. Lumpjaw strained muscles and lung capacity to accompany them to nearly twenty-one hundred meters before he was forced to turn surfaceward. He startled them all by wishing them unmistakable, if indirect, good luck. It was the first kind word one of the great whales had spoken to them since Cora had been on Cachalot. Extraordinary circumstances, she reflected, always prompted extraordinary reactions. Darkness reached its limits, pressure did not. Yet despite the inhospitable surroundings, life continued to thrive, further testament to the burgeoning fecundity of Cachalot's world-ocean. Fantastically illuminated life-forms swarmed around the submersible, alternately drawn to or frightened and confused by its lights. Page 142 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Four thousand meters." Merced hovered near Cora's shoulders, studying the console. An incredible ribbon of pale blue and green luminescence spasmed a path past the thick ports. It seemed endless, though she estimated its length at about twenty-five meters. It was perhaps five centimeters thick save near the bulging jaws that were filled with dozens of thin needle teeth. Star-dotted balloons drifted by, avoiding relatives with stomachs larger than mouths. Others possessed more teeth than seemed reasonable for such small creatures, while a couple mooned at the sub with eyes larger than the rest of then- bodies. At forty-five hundred meters Cora thought she heard distant antique church bells. At forty-eight hundred meters the ringing had become a steady hum. At five thousand meters it was as if she had people seated on either side of her, whispering frantic nonsense into her ears. The sounds were not words, nor were they spoken by people. "Trying to control us, whoever they are," Merced declared. "Irritating, but nothing more. Like listening to loud music for too long." "I agree." Mataroreva eased back on his controls. "It's not working for them, though." Five thousand six hundred meters. "We're practically on bottom here," Mataroreva grumbled. "Our scan's been omnidirectional since we started down. Even if they were hiding in some cave or beneath an overhang, we'd have detected them by now. There's nothing here." "That's right," Cora agreed readily, sounding tired. "Whoever they are, they must have fled when they realized they couldn't control us. Might as well surface and try another place." "I fear you are both correct." Hwoshien was understandably disappointed. "We gave it a good try. Perhaps other baleens can relocate them for us." Mataroreva reached to adjust a control to begin their upward climb. Just before he fingered it, a small hand locked on his wrist. He looked back in surprise at Merced. The little scientist wore a very puzzled expression. "Wait a minute, now. Don't you think this retreat is a bit premature? I'd hardly say we're practically on the bottom. We've another several thousand meters below us. Let's go at least another thousand before we give up here." Mataroreva regarded him as one would an idiot child. "I said that we're nearly down." Merced continued to eye him uncertainly. "'Nearly'?" He used his free hand to indicate the computer picture of the bottom and the figures nearby. "We're at fifty-six hundred. Scanner shows this abyssal canyon drops to eight thousand in places. We're only a little over two-thirds of the way down." Mataroreva sounded distinctly irritated. "You heard what I said about our omnidirectional scanners. I say we've already done the best we could. We'd only be wasting time here if we go farther. Better to try another spot." Merced looked at Cora. "You feel the same way?" Page 143 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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