The Spheres of Heaven

“Deb?” His voice vanished to nothing, as though he stood alone in an empty universe. “Deb, I can’t see a thing.”

“Nor can I.” She sounded close by. “Visibility was fine when I brought Friday Indigo to the Hero’s Return.”

“It must be the storm. The wind has died down, but the water here is shallow enough for the swell to disturb the bottom mud. How far are we from the shore?”

“Three to four kilometers. We’re on the coastal shelf so it will be shallow all the way in. We can’t be far apart now, but if we keep moving independently we’ll get separated. Stand still. I’m going to walk in a spiral pattern until we meet.”

Chan waited. It seemed a long time, standing rigid and hearing only the sound of his own breath, until Deb’s hand was grasping his arm. His helmet display told him that it had been less than three minutes.

Deb said, “So far so good,” and without releasing her grip she moved until they were visor to visor. “We hang on to each other and use just my suit’s inertial navigator. I’m going to angle us south of east. That will bring us ashore too far to the right, but Elke says the waves will be less there. Once we’re on land we can walk back north to meet Indigo.”

“Let’s go.” Almost before he spoke, Deb was moving away across the sea floor. She didn’t need Chan to tell her that Friday Indigo’s deadline was less than an hour and a half away.

It was difficult to walk fast across the silty seabed. Chan had reset his own helmet distance indicator, and before they had moved half a kilometer he knew they were in trouble. He held Deb’s arm and forced her to halt.

“This won’t do. We’ll never make it in time.”

“I know. But there’s nothing we can do about it. We have to keep going and hope that Indigo won’t mind that we’re late.”

“There’s another answer. I talked to Liddy Morse, and when they first went ashore they rose up to the surface and used their suit jets from there.”

“That was in a calm sea. If we try that close to shore we’ll be smashed to pieces.”

“Not if we wait for the right wave, and ride in on it.”

“We’re lost in the multiverse, and you want to go surfing ? All right. Tell me what to do first — and don’t let go of me.”

“Increase your suit’s internal pressure by ten percent. That will inflate you enough to carry you up.”

Chan followed his own advice. His ears popped as the pressure increased, and a few seconds later he felt his feet lift clear of the bottom ooze. As he rose the water became clearer. Faint green light bled in from above. He could see Deb at his side, her suit bulging larger than usual. Their heads broke the surface at the same time.

It was full daylight under a yellow-green overcast of cloud. In Limbo’s low gravity the heavy-water sea heaved slow and sluggish, like thick, dark oil. Chan and Deb had emerged in the trough of a long, smooth wave which slowly lifted them until they could see across the whole expanse of rolling water. Before they started the descent into another trough they saw, a few kilometers to the east, the white breakers that marked the presence of an invisible shore.

“Low thrust at first,” Chan said. “Otherwise you’ll tend to drive yourself under. Bony told me that it’s better to push too soft than too hard.”

He released his hold on Deb and they began to experiment. It took a few tries to reach a setting of suit jets that carried them up and down the watery slopes rather than plunging straight into and through them. Then the time for experiment was over. Life became a roller-coaster ride across the heaving surface, with one eye on the clock and the other on the approaching shore.

Just outside the line of breakers they halted in unison and stared at the beach. Chan said, “Elke was an optimist. Three-meter waves or more. I’ll give it a try first.”

“Did you ever do this before?”

“No.”

“Well, I did. Legacy of a wasted youth. And Indigo wants to talk to you, not me. My job was to bring you ashore. If I get hurt it’s no big deal to him. Watch closely.”

Before Chan could argue she was away, driving her hard-inflated suit across the water like a giant surfboard. Beyond the line of the first breaking wave, she paused. Five waves passed. As the sixth wave began to arch and build, she turned and flew laterally across the weft, riding along and into the curl for what seemed like minutes. At the last moment she vanished into the foam. She must have deflated her suit in that same instant, because after a hair-raising delay Chan saw her rise from the spray and walk forward to the dry shingle.

It looked easy. Chan did his best to imitate her. He jetted to a point close to where the waves began to swell, and waited. For what? He wasn’t sure, but Deb must have seen something different in each one. Five waves swelled, reared, and broke. Finally he became impatient and drove into and along the curl of the sixth one.

At first it was smooth and simple. He was skimming along sideways and forwards at a vast speed, under the curving crest of the advancing wave. Then suddenly the breaker arched right over his head, and he was speeding down a dark, narrowing tunnel. He felt himself turn until he was upside down. Before he could use the suit jets to right himself, a mountain of water dropped on his back and drove him onto the unyielding shingle. Even with his padded suit, the impact hurt. He rolled over and over as surf erupted around him. Then another force was dragging at his body, pulling him back toward the sea. He grabbed at the shore with his gloved hands and scrabbled desperately forward. As the wave’s suction lessened he managed to heave himself a few yards farther toward the shore. He was still in the water, but clear of the danger zone.

Deb was sitting on the beach in front of him, beyond the reach of the waves. She said, “Well, that was really elegant. Any bones broken?”

Chan had just enough strength to shake his head.

She reached out a helping hand to lift him to his feet. “Come on, then. According to my suit’s inertial guidance we’re a bit too far south and it’s only ten minutes to midday. Don’t want to keep Captain Indigo waiting.”

She led Chan away along the beach. As he recovered his breath and equilibrium he was able to take notice of their surroundings. The strip of pebbles along which they walked was much narrower than on the satellite images. Because of either storm or tides, the dark, surging water and sterile black rock were now no more than twenty meters away from each other. The thin strip of gray beach dwindled into the distance. Where it vanished and rock and sea appeared to merge, a suited figure stood like a crooked statue. It was facing seaward, the face hidden by the open helmet.

The statue remained motionless until they were only a few paces away. Then it turned, and Chan saw Friday Indigo’s dead eyes and fish-white countenance.

“Very foolish.” Indigo ignored Chan’s gesture of greeting. “A very unwise move. Did you know of it?”

“Know of what?”

“The escape. That was The One’s conclusion, that you could not know of it. Lucky for you. If it had been otherwise, there would have been no point in meeting. The One believes that there is still a purpose to be served in speaking with you, but had she thought that you knew of the escape, you and your ship would have been destroyed. However, The One makes it clear that this is your final chance.”

“Who escaped?” Chan wondered what effect this might have. The trouble with all desperate plans was that they were at the mercy of chance events.

“The two humans who were captured yesterday. They escaped during the night. Do not concern yourself, they can do no harm and for the moment The One is ignoring them. They’ll be recaptured, of course, as soon as it’s convenient. But evidence that humans cannot be trusted leads to changes in our procedure. You.” He turned to face Deb. “Since we know nothing of your loyalty, you cannot be allowed to remain ashore. You will return to your ship.”

“In seas like that?” Chan pointed to the breaking waves.

Indigo turned to him, slowly and painfully. “She came ashore. She can also leave. Now.”

Chan tried again. “Be reasonable. She’ll be killed.”

“I do not think so. The sea is becoming steadily more calm. And this is not subject to negotiation. She must go.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Deb said. “I’ll manage.” She sealed her helmet at once and waded into the sea until