Oh, this is too squirting weird!
A flash of gray hurtled past him. Then another, and two more. Crat blinked. Dolphins! The last one paused to whirl around him, catching his eye and nodding vigorously before streaking after its fellows. Crat got the eerie impression the creature had been trying to tell him something, like maybe, You better hurry, Mac, if you know what’s good for you.
“Shit. If something down here’s got them scared…”
Crat found himself scurrying after them, running as fast as he could through the bottom muck. Soon he was panting, his heart pounding in his chest. I’ll never keep up! Whatever’s chasing them will catch me easy!
He tried to glance backward as he ran, but only managed to trip over his own feet. The slow motion fall was unstoppable, ending in a skid that plowed up streamers of turbid sediment. As he lay there, wheezing for breath, his entire world consisted of the whining aircompressors, that gor-sucking music, and some crawling thing in the mud that bumped against his faceplate, leaving a trail of slime across the glass before disappearing into the ooze again.
Maybe I can burrow under here and hide, he thought.
But no. Cowering from a fight stuck in his craw. Better to turn and face whatever it was. Maybe dolphins are cowards, anyway.
Something occurred to Crat. It might be some other company, wanting to hijack the thing I’m carrying. Hey! That explains all the noise! They’re jamming my comm, so I can’t call for help when they find me! Obstinately, he decided, Well, if my cargo’s that important, they sure as fuck aren’t gonna get it off me!
Crat managed to stand, raining gunk from his harness and shoulders. If the enemy were close, they’d surely pick out the noise his suit gave off and zero in on him. But maybe he could find a place to stash his cargo first! Awkwardly, he pulled the bulky package off its carry-rack. One of the tech types had called it a “cylinder gimbal bearing,” or whatever. All he knew was it was heavy.
Maybe… Crat thought as he looked around… maybe he could bury it and… hurry off, leading the bad guys away from it! But in that case he’d better put it under some landmark, so he could find it again. In a burst of slyness, he set off away from his former heading, so as not to point the way to the company’s secret lab. Meanwhile Crat peered about for any useful landmark, wary for a sudden black shape — the sleek minisub of some mercenary corporate privateer.
Hurrying across the muddy plain, he caught a flicker of motion to his left. He turned, just in time to be halfblinded by a sudden shaft of brilliance that seemed to split the sea. A searchlight! They’re here!
He sighed in frustration. Too late to bury his cargo, then. There was only one chance now. To pretend to surrender, and then, at the last moment, maybe he could destroy what he carried. Of course the only object hard enough to smash it against would be the side of the sub itself… Maybe Remi or Roland could have thought up something better, he reflected, but this was the best he could come up with on short notice. Crat started walking toward the light. It was terribly bright.
Too bright, in fact. He’d never seen such a searchlight before.
Moreover, it was vertical, not horizontal. Could it be someone up above, casting about down here from the surface? But that didn’t make sense!
Then Crat noticed for the first time… the brightness seemed to throb in tempo with the strange music flooding his helmet. It’s too big to be a searchlight, he realized when he saw the dolphins again, cavorting around the luminous perimeter. The column was nearly a hundred meters across.
They weren’t running away, after all. They were headed toward this thing! But what is it?
There was no shadow of a vessel on the surface. The brilliance had no specific source. It just was. Shuffling nearer the dazzling pillar, Crat’s foot caught on something bulky in the mud. A large, black, roughly egg-shaped object. Ironically, it was one of the nodules he’d expected to be sent after when he was hired. To a Sea State citizen, it was a fabulous find. Only right now that didn’t seem to matter as much as it might have only minutes ago.
The music grew more intricate and complex as he ap-proached the beating column. Crat pictured angels singing, but even that didn’t do it justice. The dolphins cried peals of exhilaration, and that somehow made him feel less afraid. They swooped, executing pirouettes just outside the shaft of brightness, squealing in counterpoint to its song.
Crat approached the shimmering boundary and stretched out one arm. He felt his blood drawn through the vessels in his hand by strange tides, returning to his heart changed with every beat. The fingertips met resistance and then passed through, tingling.
His black glove glowed in the light. He watched, dazed, as fizzing droplets hopped and danced on the rubber before evaporating in tiny cyclones. So. Within the glow there might be air… or vacuum… or something else. For sure, though, it wasn’t seawater.
He felt his arm nudged. A dolphin had come alongside to watch, and the two of them shared a moment’s soul-contact, each seeing glory reflected in the other’s eye. Each knowing exactly what the other one saw. Crat couldn’t help it,- he grinned. Crat laughed exultantly.
Then, gently, the dolphin nudged his arm again, pushing it out of the shining beam.
Breaking contact tore at him instantly, as if something had ruptured inside. Crat sobbed at a sudden memory of his mother, who had died when he was so young, leaving him alone in a world of welfare agents and official charity. He tried to go back, to throw himself into the embrace of the light, but the dolphins wouldn’t let him. They pushed him away. One thrust its bottle nose between his legs and lifted him bodily.
“Let me go!” he moaned, reaching out. But even then he heard the music climax and begin to fade. The brilliance turned golden and diminished too. Then it ended suddenly with a clap that set the ocean ringing.
In the rapid dimness, his irises couldn’t adapt fast enough. He never saw water rush in to fill the empty shaft, but he and the dolphins were taken by a spinning, tumbling chaos that yanked them like bits of weed in the surf. Crat grabbed his air-hose and just held on.
When, at last, the tugging currents let him go, for a second time Crat shakily picked himself up from the muddy bottom. It took a while to look around without everything spinning. Then he realized the dolphins were gone. So too were the light, the music. Even the ringing in his ears. The stinging afterimages faded till at last he heard an insistent voice yammering.
“… you need help? We had our comm messed up for a while. Some think maybe we were near one of those boggle things people are talking about. What a coincidence!
“Anyway, Courier Four, our telltales show you’re all right. Please confirm.”
Crat swallowed. It took some effort to relearn how to speak. “I’m… okay.” He looked around quickly and found the cargo — only a few meters away. Crat picked it up, shaking off more muck. “Want me to start back on course?”
The voice at the other end interrupted. “Good attitude, Courier Four. But no. We’re sending a sub that way anyway with some bigwigs to inaugurate Site Six. It’ll pick you up shortly. Just stand by.”
So he was going to get there after all… and Crat found that now he didn’t care a bit. Standing there waiting, more than ever he wished his fingers could pass through the glass faceplate as they had briefly penetrated that shining boundary. For those few moments, his hands had sought and found his life’s first real solace. Now he’d settle for just the memory of that gift, and a chance to wipe his streaming eyes.