Almost without realizing it, he took an involuntary step backward.
"Stamper?" one of the rescue crew said behind them.
And then, with an almost animal squeal, the dogs securing the hatch ahead of them flew out of their housings, one after the other, with reports like pistol shots. The hatch popped from its housing like a champagne cork. And a living mass of water boiled toward them.
For an instant, Stamper just stared, frozen with shock and horror.
It was terrifying, the way it came at them with single-minded, predatory hunger. It ate up everything in its path with a rushing, hissing, sucking noise. Stamper had no idea water could make that kind of a sound. And it was a horrible color, a slippery reddish black, with spumes of blood-colored froth throwing off a misty spindrift. Its violence was appalling. Things bobbed in the water, chairs and lab tables and instruments and computers and other matter he did not care to look at. The smell filled his nostrils: a chill, salty, coppery odor that-with its promise of great inky depths-was somehow even more frightening than sight alone…
…And then the spell was broken and he was scrambling backward, falling over himself and the rest of the team, slipping and cursing and staggering in a mad rush to gain the stairwell and escape the horror rushing up behind them.
His radio was squawking but he paid no attention. There was a sharp clang directly behind as one of the rescue crew slammed and dogged the hatch leading to the rear hallway. Stamper didn't even bother to look around. They could shut half a dozen hatches if they wanted to; in the end it would make no difference. Because now it was all too clear to him there was no way in hell that the breach was going to be sealed-or that deck 8 was ever going to be secured.
52
Crane ran down the corridors of deck 6 as quickly as he dared. At each intersection, he slowed; once past it, he broke into a jog again. The halls were quiet: he encountered a maintenance worker trundling a cart, two scientists murmuring to each other in low tones. Whatever loud noise had shaken the Facility so severely just minutes before seemed to be causing little alarm. The warning sirens had been silenced, and there was no anxiety in the faces he passed.
Ahead lay the cul-de-sac that housed the Maritime Applied Physics lab. He paused outside the door, glanced back down the corridor: still deserted. The lab itself seemed silent. He opened the door and quickly slid inside.
Hui Ping was standing beside the lab table. "Where have you been?" she asked. "I was sure something happened to you. And then that explosion just now…"
"I'm sorry, Hui, I was held up. How's it been here?"
"Quiet. Until a minute ago." She gave him a mirthless smile. "Actually, the time wasn't really wasted. While waiting, I think I deciphered that first signal, the one coming from beneath the Moho. And when you see-"
"There's no time for that. We've got to get out of here, and fast. The security cameras will have picked me up by now."
"Security cameras? What's happened?"
"Korolis has happened. He's taken command of the Facility."
"What about Spartan?"
"God only knows what's happened to him. It gets worse: Korolis is insisting the digging proceed on schedule. He seems obsessed with it, even manned Marble Three himself. I think the illness is beginning to affect him, too. When I tried to stop him, he had me arrested."
"What?"
"I managed to get away before I was thrown in the brig. But we have to get to deck twelve. I've mobilized some of the top scientists-they're gathering in the conference center there. I intend to explain everything to them: the dig, Asher's discoveries, Korolis-everything. We have to get word up to the surface, get the attention of people who can put a stop to all this madness-"
Suddenly, he stopped. "Oh, shit." His shoulders slumped.
She looked at him in mute inquiry.
"The Barrier," he explained.
In his haste, he'd forgotten about the checkpoint between the secure and nonsecure zones. The guards were probably still on the lookout for Ping-and they'd sure as hell be looking for him.
"Damn it!" He turned, slamming a fist against the lab table in frustration. "We'll never get past the Barrier."
He turned back to look at Ping. What he saw startled him. The computer scientist had gone a little pale. Surely, she hadn't forgotten about the Barrier as well…had she?
"What is it?" he asked.
When she replied it was in a very small voice. "There's another way. One possible way. An emergency exit hatch on deck two."
"Emergency exit? From the Facility?" Suddenly, Crane remembered the rungs he'd seen, bolted to the outer hull of the Facility, as he'd climbed the catwalk on his way to meet the Tub.
"Is it guarded?" he asked.
"I don't think so. It's a one-way hatch-you can't get back in, so there's no security issues with avoiding the Barrier. Not that many people know about it. The only reason that I do is because it's located in the maintenance spaces just below my lab."
He paused only another second. "Let's go."
Crane followed Ping as she began retracing the route they'd taken from her lab earlier in the day. Was it really only seven hours before? he reflected bitterly. In terms of everything they'd discovered since-and what had gone down within the Facility-it seemed ages.
Gaining the stairwell, they descended quietly and cautiously, pausing before each landing to make sure they remained alone and unobserved. They passed deck 3, the clang of pans from the Bottom kitchen clearly audible, and descended one more level. Hui put her hand on the exit bar, took a deep breath, then pushed it open.
Crane peered out. Ahead lay a short corridor that ended in a T. Between them and the junction was a group of men in lab coats, standing in the doorway of an office labeled SEDIMENTATION AND STRATIGRAPHY. At the sound of the stairwell door opening, they glanced over, expressions curious.
Crane sensed Ping hesitating. "Go on," he said in a low voice. "Just walk past them."
Ping stepped into the corridor. Crane followed as casually as he could, nodding to the group as he passed by. The faces weren't familiar, and he hoped none of them had been in the Drilling Complex when he'd been put under arrest. He had to force himself not to look back over his shoulder. But there was no clatter of feet, no shouted demands for them to stop.
At the intersection, Ping turned left, passing a series of small labs and offices. Then she stopped abruptly.
"What is it?" Crane asked.
Wordlessly, she pointed. About ten yards ahead, a security camera was fastened to the ceiling.
"Is there another way around?" he asked.
"Very circuitous. And we'd probably pass other cameras, anyway."
He thought for a moment. "Is it far?"
"Just around the next corner."
"Okay, then. Quick as you can."
They trotted ahead, keeping their heads down as they passed the camera. Ping turned another corner, stopped outside a gray door. She pulled it open and they ducked inside.
Crane found himself in an equipment storeroom; tools and light machinery sat on deep metal shelves that rose from floor to ceiling. Ping led the way to the rear, where there was a heavy unmarked hatchway.
"Help me undog this," she said.
With effort, they pushed the four heavy drop bolts out of the way, then opened the hatch. Beyond was a small, dim space, lit only by a caged red bulb. There was another hatch here: round, much smaller and heavier, with a servo-controlled opening mechanism. WARNING, read a sign above it. EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY. NO REENTRY AT THIS LEVEL.
Crane put his hand against the hatch. It felt cold and damp. From beyond it came a faint roaring sound he couldn't quite identify.
Behind him, Ping was breathing rapidly. He turned toward her. "Are you ready?"