Harris made an unhappy face. “That will suck.”
“Yep. Good idea you’ve got there. Tell the troops you’ve figured out the answer to their problem.”
Grumbling, Harris wandered back to his platoon. I knew he was just trying to come up with reasons to turn back. I could hardly blame him for that. It was getting kind of spooky down here in the dark.
“Is Harris complaining already?” Leeson asked me.
“He sure is.”
“That weasel. His men are at an eighty percent charge still. We could walk down this slope for days.”
At around midnight, I called a halt to the main column. We would rest while the light platoon scouted ahead. They had a ninety percent charge left, after all. I also ordered that two thirds of the men were to shut down their lights at any given time. The lights burned juice, and with people looking every which way, we didn’t need to use them all at once.
These conservation measures were met with sullen disappointment. Many of the troops were counting the hours until we did a U-turn and went back to the world of light and air.
“This is ridiculous,” Harris complained to me over command chat. “How does Graves expect us to search an ocean on foot? If he wants to know what’s down here, all he has to do is dunk a probe or a mini-sub or something.”
“I don’t think he thought we’d have to march this far down to find anything. Besides, Legion Varus isn’t well-suited to underwater campaigns.”
“You can say that again. Remember those robots they loosed at us on Green Deck? That was hilarious.”
I could have mentioned the robots weren’t as funny to most of the units as they were to us, but I didn’t want to dampen any relief in the mood.
We ate ration-paste, sipped some fresh water and whizzed in our suits to make more water for later. After about twenty minutes, I got a message back from Barton. She’d gone down with the monofilament line trailing behind her.
“There’s something down here, Centurion—” I heard her say.
I stood up and tapped at my helmet. The signal was rough. “Say again, Barton? Have you made contact?”
There was nothing for about ten seconds. During that time, my men watched me with growing concern. They knew enough to stay quiet, however—even Carlos.
“Barton? Have you made—”
“Sir! Sir! We’re in action!”
I could hear her weapon firing when she transmitted. It sounded weird as it was underwater. Both her voice and the gunfire cut out suddenly.
For several long seconds, nothing happened. We all stood around, eyeing one another and listening intently. Barton had to be pretty far down. If we didn’t get a good sitrep report soon, I was going to have to make some hard decisions.
“It’s been too long,” Harris said at last in a hushed voice. “Maybe she’s gone.”
“Shut up and listen. She’ll report in.”
We waited another long count to ten, and then, at long last, something did happen.
The monofilament jumped under our feet. It began to pay out—fast.
“Looks like something grabbed our fishing lure, sir!” Carlos called out.
“Everyone step back from the line—don’t try to stop it!”
But my warning came too late. No less than four fools had their gloves on that squirming line already. When it snapped tight, it jerked them off their feet. Two of the four were thrown up into the water. They were instantly crushed by the field that protected us from the fantastic pressure of the ocean around us.
“Let go of that line! Let it go!”
The others did as I ordered, and the monofilament flew up out of sight.
“It’s like something big just grabbed the line and swam up toward the surface,” Natasha said. “Whatever it is, it must be a magnificent creature.”
Harris turned to me and pointed upward. “The monofilament is gone. That was our only lifeline to the surface, Centurion. We have to turn back.”
I thought about it. I really did. What stopped me was one simple fact: if we didn’t determine what had happened to Barton and her platoon, they were permed—all of them.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “We finally found what we’ve been looking for. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I am sure of one thing.” I jabbed a finger down into the dark depths of the ocean. “Whatever it is, it’s down there. Let’s go find it.”
Soon we were marching again, and I couldn’t tell you the last time my troops had looked so forlorn.
-43-
The water got colder and darker the farther we went down. Soon, it was icy and above us the sea was pitch black. We shivered in our suits, unwilling to run our heaters. The Lord himself only knew how badly we would need every ounce of power we had to get back to the world of air and light.
Going down deep in the ocean is normally a peaceful experience. Sure, it was creepy down here, with big weird growths and rocky cliffs to fall off of, but at least it was quiet and still.
That’s not how we felt this time out. We were all on edge. No one could forget the way that monofilament had jumped and twisted, like a steel cable tied to a dinosaur’s neck. What could have caused it to move that way? We really didn’t know, we could only conjecture.
“What if it was, like a huge whale or something?” Carlos asked aloud. “Or maybe a massive killer shark?”
“I doubt it,” Natasha told him. “Even a megalodon from Earth’s prehistoric period wouldn’t have that kind of strength. It was more likely a submarine, something else that’s artificial with a motor.”
“What’s a megalodon?”
“A shark the size of a whale.”
“Oooo… cool.”
Conversations like that proceeded in earnest all along
