"Why not leave it where it is?" asked Carson.
"Because it's safer in deep water. We don't know what'll happen here. Frank, I need you and Hutch to find the wave. I want to know where it is, how big it is, and how fast it's coming."
Carson acknowledged.
"One more thing. It's going to be hard to see. Tidal waves are small when they're in deep water. Maybe only a meter or two high. But it's long. There might be a kilometer or two between the crest and the trough."
Hutch and Eddie rolled into the sub bay.
"I'm not sure what constitutes safe cover for something like this," Henry continued. "If we have time, I'm going to get everybody ashore, out of the way of this goddam thing."
"Then you'll need the sub," Carson said.
"It'll take too long. We'd need time to unload it, and then a couple of trips to get everyone out. And then another three quarters of an hour to get to high ground. No, we'll use the jetpacks if there's time. You find out what the situation is. Where is it? How bad? When will it get here?"
"Don't forget," Andi added, "to get both shuttles away from the dock."
Eddie jumped off the side of the cart as Carson closed the cargo hatch. "What are you doing?" he asked.
Carson blinked at the question. "Getting underway."
"You've got room for more." He was trying to direct Hutch to pull closer to the sub.
"Forget it, Ed."
"Anyway," added Hutch, "the sub's going out to meet a tidal wave. Last thing you want is a lot of ballast. It's probably already overloaded."
That brought a worried reaction from Tommy. "Maybe we should unload some of this stuff."
"Listen," said Eddie, "this place might get wrecked. We've got to save what we can."
"Seapoint'll be fine," said Carson, but he threw a worried glance toward Hutch. "Let's get going."
Before they were clear of the base, Hutch had used her remote to start Alpha inland. Five minutes later, she and Carson rode the Temple shuttle into a dripping sky.
Below, Tommy, frightened and alone, headed out to sea.
George, deep in the Lower Temple, was also reluctant to adjust his priorities. "Henry," he pleaded, "we can have it out of here in an hour."
Maggie, wherever she was, joined in: "Henry, this is critical. We can't take a chance on losing it."
They were on the common channel. Hutch had been distracted, hadn't heard enough to know what it was. "We may not have an hour," Henry said. "Don't argue with me; I've got too much to do. George, get back here."
Hutch stared at the ocean. It looked peaceful enough. "This kind of screw-up," she said to Carson, "intentional or not, should cost her her career."
"Who?"
"Truscott."
"That's a joke. We're politically unpopular right now. They'll give her a medal."
Scanners are specialized. Those mounted on the Temple shuttle, intended for archeology, were designed to penetrate subsurface objects and provide detail at short range. What Hutch needed was the broad sweep of her own instruments. "We took the wrong shuttle," she said.
"Too late now. It'll have to do."
It was still snowing.
Hutch looked at her screens. "The wave might be only a meter or so high. I'm not sure that's going to show up."
Carson frowned. "What if we go lower?"
She responded by taking it down on the deck. But she kept air speed at three hundred until Carson grumbled. "We've got to make better time than this."
"We won't find it at all if we aren't careful. There are a lot of waves out there."
Carson shook his head. "This drives me right up the wall. Tidal waves are supposed to be easy to see. You sure Henry knows what he's talking about?"
"He's your boss. What do you think?"
Richard was helping Janet pack rations. The rest of the Academy team trooped in, in twos and threes. Henry plowed back and forth through the community room, head bent, hands locked behind his back.
Carson's voice came over the link. "We're at one hundred kilometers. Nothing yet."
Tri and George came in. That made thirteen people present. All accounted for.
"Okay, people," Henry said. "Now that we're all here, I think you should know what we intend to do. Let me say first that I think Seapoint will be safe. But there's no way to be sure. If we have sufficient time, we'll evacuate. Karl has brought up some light cable. We'll form a human chain, and use the jets to go ashore. Once there we'll head immediately up the pass. There's accessible high ground there, and we should be able to get well out of harm's way within a half hour or so after we get to the beach."
"How long," asked Andi, "is 'sufficient time'?"
"Two hours," he said. "If we don't get two hours to clear out, we'll stay here."
Art Gibbs stood. He looked uncertain and nervous. "Maybe we should put this to a vote, Henry."
Henry's eyes hardened. "No," he said. "No votes. I won't have anyone killed over democratic principles."
"Maybe there is no wave," said Carson. "Maybe it's a gag."
"Could be," Hutch said.
Henry's voice broke through the gloom. "Nothing yet, Frank?"
Carson looked pained. "Negative, Henry. Everything's calm out here."
"I don't think we're going about this right," said Henry. "You're moving too slowly. If it's in close it won't matter if you find it because we'll ride it out here anyway. What we need to know is whether it's far enough away to allow us time to get to shore. Why not take it up to top speed? If you find it far enough out, we're in business. If not, nothing lost."
"No," said Hutch. "I don't know much about tsunamis, but I do know they come in packs. Even if we hustled out and found a wave, we couldn't be sure there weren't others in close. We're not looking for one wave. We're looking for the nearest."
At two hundred kilometers, they ran out from under the storm. The sea was choppy, moonlit, restless. Icebergs drifted everywhere.
They flew on and watched the screens and the ocean. They began to sense that Henry had also begun to hope it was a false alarm.
In the glow of their navigation lights, an enormous black fluke rose out of the water. "Whale?" she asked.
"No whales on Quraqua." Carson looked down. "It has to be a fish. But I don't know that much about local wildlife." Then, without changing his tone, he said, "There's the wave."
It was long and straight, a ripple extending unbroken toward the horizon. It was not high, perhaps two meters. And not at all ominous. Just a surge of water trailing a black, polished wake. "You sure?" she asked.
"Yeah. That's it."
"Henry, this is Hutch. We've got it."
"Where?"
"Four hundred kilometers. It's moving at five-fifty."
"Okay," he said. "We'll stay here."
"Yeah. For what it's worth, it doesn't look bad."
Tommy Loughery was running on the surface. He had heard them pass overhead, outbound, although he'd seen nothing in the clouds.
"Tommy." Andi's voice.
"Go ahead, Andi."
"You heard everything?"
"Sure did."
"When it gets near, go deep. It should be easy to get below the turbulence."
"I will," he said. "Good luck."
"You too. But I think we'll be okay."
He agreed. He'd seen the pictures transmitted from the shuttle, and it now seemed to him like a needless panic. His scanners were watching for the wave. If it grew enough to become a hazard, he would have plenty of time to get down. Truth was, he was grateful to spend a few hours in the storm, watching the snow come down, listening to the sounds of the ocean. The Temple had become claustrophobic, and oppressive, and grim. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but he was almost glad that Kosmik had pushed them off. He'd been here only a semester, and he was scheduled for another. It had begun to seem endless. Better to get back to a world filled with women and lights and old friends and good restaurants. It would not have helped his career to break his contract and leave early. But now, he could return to D.C., and take advantage of his field experience to land a teaching job. In the future he'd leave the long-distance travel to others.