Sphere (Page 92)

In fact, the staircase was new, too. It was black anodized metal. It hadn’t been that way before. This was a new descending staircase.

"Norm?"

"In a minute, Beth."

He went to the console and started punching buttons. He had seen a file before, on habitat parameters or something like that. He finally found it:

DEEPHAB-8 MIPPR DESIGN PARAMETERS

5.024A Cylinder A

5.024B Cylinder B

5.024C Cylinder C

5.024D Cylinder D

5.024E Cylinder E

Choose one:

He chose Cyl D, and another screen appeared. He chose design plans. He got page after page of architectural drawings. He flicked through them, stabbing at the keys, until he came to the detail plans for the biological laboratory at the top of D Cyl.

Clearly shown in the drawings was a large sunlamp bank, hinged to fold back against the wall. It must have been there all the time; he just hadn’t ever noticed it. There were lots of other details he hadn’t noticed – like the emergency escape hatch in the domed ceiling of the lab. And the fact that there was a second foldout bunk near the floor entrance. And a black anodized descending staircase.

You’re in a panic, he thought. And it has nothing to do with sunlamps and architectural drawings. It doesn’t e even  have to do with sex. You’re in a panic because Beth is the only one left besides you, and Beth isn’t acting like herself.

In the corner of the screen, he watched the small  clock tick backward, the seconds clicking off with agonizing slowness. Twelve more hours, he thought. I’ve just got to last twelve more hours, and everything will be all right.

He was hungry, but he knew there wasn’t any food. He was tired, but there wasn’t anyplace for him to sleep. Both E and C Cylinders were flooded, and he didn’t want to go upstairs with Beth. Norman lay down on the floor of D Cyl, beside Harry on the couch. It was cold and damp on the floor. For a long time he couldn’t sleep.

0900 HOURS

The pounding, that terrifying pounding, and the shaking of the floor awakened him abruptly. He rolled over and got to his feet, instantly alert. He saw Beth standing by the monitors. "What is it?" he cried. "What is it?"

"What is what?" Beth said.

She seemed calm. She smiled at him. Norman looked around. The alarms hadn’t gone off; the lights weren’t flashing.

"I don’t know, I thought – I don’t know …" He trailed off.

"You thought we were under attack again?" she said.

He nodded.

"Why would you think that, Norman?" she said.

Beth was looking at him again in that odd way. An appraising way, her stare very direct and cool. There was no hint of seductiveness to her. If anything, she conveyed the suspiciousness of the old Beth: You’re a man, and you’re a problem.

"Harry’s still unconscious, isn’t he? So why would you think we were being attacked?"

"I don’t know. I guess I was dreaming."

Beth shrugged. "Maybe you felt the vibration of me walking on the floor," she said. "Anyway, I’m glad you decided to sleep."

That same appraising stare. As if there were something wrong with him.

"You haven’t slept enough, Norman."

"None of us have."

"You, particularly."

"Maybe you’re right." He had to admit he felt better now that he had slept for a couple of hours. He smiled. "Did you eat all the coffee and Danish?"

"There isn’t any coffee and Danish, Norman."

"I know."

"Then why would you say that?" she asked seriously.

"It was a joke, Beth."

"Oh."

"Just a joke. You know, a humorous reflection on our condition?"

"I see." She was working with the screens. "By the way, what did you find out about the balloon?"

"The balloon?"

"The surface balloon. Remember we talked about it?" He shook his head. He didn’t remember.

"Before I went out to the sub, I asked about the control codes to send a balloon to the surface, and you said you’d look in the computer and see if you could find how to do it."

"I did?"

"Yes, Norman. You did."

He thought back. He remembered how he and Beth had lifted Harry’s inert, surprisingly heavy body off the floor, setting him on the couch, and how they had staunched the flow of blood from his nose while Beth had started an intravenous line, which she knew how to do from her work with lab animals. In fact, she had made a joke, saying she hoped Harry fared better than her lab animals, since they usually ended up dead. Then Beth had volunteered to go to the sub, and he had said he’d stay with Harry. That was what he remembered. Nothing about any balloons.

"Sure," Beth said. "Because the communication said we were supposed to acknowledge transmission, and that means a radio balloon sent to the surface. And we figured, with the storm abating, the surface conditions must be calm enough to allow the balloon to ride without snapping the wire. So it was a question of how to release the balloons. And you said you’d look for the control commands."

"I really don’t remember," he said. "I’m sorry."

"Norman, we have to work together in these last few hours," Beth said.

"I agree, Beth. Absolutely."

"How are you feeling now?" she said.

"Okay. Pretty good, in fact."

"Good," she said. "Hang in there, Norman. It’s only a few more hours."

She hugged him warmly, but when she released him, he saw in her eyes that same detached, appraising look.

An hour later, they figured out how to release the balloon. They distantly heard a metallic sizzle as the wire unwound from the outside spool, trailing behind the inflated balloon as it shot toward the surface. Then there was a long pause.