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“Kwon,” I said, clanking out onto the beach, “let’s move our team out.”

“Moving out, sir!”

We weren’t the first ones to enter the sea. I’d already sent twenty companies forward. I had them fly out over the waves first so they could move faster, but when the water got deep—which it did with alarming suddenness a about a mile offshore—they were to drop down directly, hugging the cliff and letting gravity do the trick. They sank like stones, or maybe like big steel bricks.

Soon, it was our turn to move out. We engaged our repellers and left the sandy beach behind. We leaned our bodies forward and increased our speed. The repellers pushed us forward and away from the water at the same time. Like a hundred strange little helicopters, we flew over the cresting whitecaps. As we sailed over the waves at around a hundred knots. Every marine left a white line of froth in the water due to the pushing of his repellers in the bright, Caribbean-blue surface.

“Is it okay to use radio while flying, sir?” Kwon asked me.

“Yes, as long as we don’t overdo it and keep the power low on our transmissions. As I said in the briefing, the signals won’t get down to the Macros through the seawater.”

Kwon pointed overhead. “What about them?”

“The enemy fleet has withdrawn to higher orbit, I’m happy to report. They apparently don’t want to sit close to the Earth’s surface.”

“Why have they pulled back?”

“Maybe they think we could nuke them in a surprise sucker-punch. I wish we had a hundred subs waiting to do just that, but we don’t.”

Kwon stopped asking questions. It was just as well, because we’d reached the end of the line. It was easy to see where the land-shelf ended from an aerial view. This close to it, I found it harder to tell. The water did look somewhat deeper blue. Below us was a cliff thousands of feet deep. I leaned back and halted my forward motion.

“Slow down, this is it,” Kwon shouted, seeing my move.

The company clustered around, tipping their helmets awkwardly to look down in the water. “Let’s drop,” I said, and I switched off my repellers.

The water splashed around me and I sank with dramatic speed. Being accustomed to being much more buoyant, it was alarming to go down so fast. I felt like I was drowning. I watched as dark cliffs covered in crusty growths whirled past my faceplate. I looked up and saw a spiral of bubbles spinning away overhead toward the silvery surface. Below, the water was deep blue. As I continued to drop, the water above grew darker and the surface was no longer discernable. Below, the sea had turned an oily black.

I snapped on my suit lights. A dozen others did the same all around me. Their existence was a comfort.

Normally, a dive like this took many stages and an ever increasing level of pressure inside the suit which had to be built up carefully to avoid popping eardrums and other unpleasant things. Fortunately, I had a team of about a zillion nanites working internally to balance out my body. On the way back up however, I knew we would have to take it slower to avoid decompression sickness, nanites or no.

My suit hissed and creaked as the pressure increased. The battle suits performed remarkably well as one-man submarines. This was accidental, but I was still proud of the design. When I’d planned the systems, I’d been thinking of the rigors of open space with all its deadly dangers. One of them was great pressure, of course. I wanted these systems to function effectively on high gravity planets, worlds with high atmospheric pressures and wild variations in temperature and radiation. I’d considered undersea combat, but only as a remote possibility. I had had no inkling that these suits would see their first real combat test under Earth’s own oceans.

 “Any problems?” I signaled Kwon.

I heard a fuzzy, static-filled response. I cursed. I didn’t know how far away he was, but I’d hoped we would be able to converse over more than a few yards distant. I was immediately tempted to use sonic communications, but sternly forbade myself. I had to follow my own orders just like everyone else.

It had been such a long, sliding fall I’d almost forgotten to look for the bottom. Looking was futile in any case, as there was nothing to see outside the shaft of my suit’s chest lights other than more dark ocean.

A warning beeper sounded, and I barely managed to squeeze the hand control in my glove that started up my repellers in time. Boulders shot up on either side of me. I heard clanking and crashing as marines slammed their armored boots into them all around. The bottom came crunching into my boots with shocking speed.

“We’re down,” I said. “Activate repellers. Relay the warning.”

In my helmet, I heard a dozen voices shouting to each other over the com-links. Many were indecipherable. I took a moment to examine the bottom of the cliffs. We’d done a lot of brainstorming about what the Macros intended to do down here. One theoretical plan we’d come up was the possibility of building digging machines and sending them to Andros Island via a network of tunnels. I hadn’t found evidence of tunnels, however. I suspected they planned to march up out of the sea and onto the shoreline when they were ready.

I soon located Kwon. He was trying to pull a man out from between two closely-parked boulders. The marine had the green suit-lights of a non-com. He seemed unhurt, but one big boot was stuck.

“Is everyone okay, First Sergeant?” I asked.

“No, sir,” he said, grunting and heaving at the bounder on the right. It had leaned in and was covered in sharp thorny growths.

“Casualties?”

“One man I’ve found didn’t make it. He’s over there.”

I turned to see a dark shape lying draped over more broken rocks. I turned back to the trapped man. The living are always more important than the dead, so I reached out to help.

I’d thought the bottom would be free of life, but maybe this had fallen from above recently. I joined him and the three of us working together managed to free the man’s foot without ripping it off and killing him. Afterward, I moved over to the dead man. He was a private, his suit’s red LEDs told me that. The lower half of the lights were out, however. I saw a gap in the suit and shook my head. It had split open at the waist, allowing the pressure of the mile-deep ocean inside. Had he tried to take it off? Or had the suit malfunctioned somehow?

I considered my own control systems. I thought I might have the answer. The suit had emergency buttons near my face inside the helmet. If I twisted my neck and brought down my chin hard, the emergency release would trigger. Maybe when he’d come down and jarringly struck the seafloor, this man had done exactly that by accident. I grimaced. A redesign was required.

“What happened to him?” Kwon asked, looming near.

Kwon made me startle. He reminded me of some huge, scary sea creature looming out of the dark water. I’d had to specially order his suit. The factory standard issue unit just hadn’t fit right.

“My fault,” I said. “I need to reprogram the suit units. In low pressure, the suits are built to prevent accidental opening. That way, this couldn’t happen out in the vacuum of space. I hadn’t considered that high pressure could be just as deadly.”