Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [66]
The plan was for Vigo to swim through the caves, trailing his chain of vines behind him. When he reached the place where the caves opened up on the opposite side of the rock wall, Simenon would grab the end of Vigo’s lifeline and allow Vigo to pull him through. Then the others would follow on their own, one at a time.
“That soreness in your side may make it difficult to hold your breath,” Greyhorse pointed out.
“But I won’t be exerting myself,” Simenon told him. “All I’ve got to do is hang on and fend off the occasional obstruction.”
And with that, he led the way to the cave mouth.
Chapter Twenty
WU ARRIVED IN THE SHUTTLEBAY just as Jiterica was entering the specially rigged shuttle. Paris, it seemed, was already inside the craft. The commander turned to Chiang.
“Everything checks out,” he said before she could ask.
She nodded. “Good.”
Then she approached the shuttle and watched Jiterica take her place inside it. Ironically, the Nizhrak seemed to have less trouble negotiating the cramped quarters of the auxiliary craft than she’d had taking a seat in the mess hall.
Paris was running a last-minute instrument diagnostic. When he noticed Wu standing at the hatch, he acknowledged her with a nod.
“Commander,” he said.
He seemed to have regained his confidence. The second officer certainly hoped that that was the case. There was a lot riding on Paris and his abilities.
“Ensign,” she said by way of a reply. Then, after she was certain that Jiterica had taken notice of her as well, she said, “Do either of you have any questions?”
Neither of them seemed to have any. But then, their assignment was a simple one in concept. It was only in its execution that complications seemed likely to set in.
“Then good luck to you,” said Wu.
“Thank you, Commander,” Paris replied.
“Thank you,” Jiterica echoed in her tinny, unnatural-sounding helmet-audio voice.
Then the hatch closed and Wu stood back from the shuttlecraft. She watched as it lifted off the deck and headed for the permeable force field that separated the bay from the airless void.
The shuttle seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second as it neared the force field. Then it sailed through it with a gentle flash, wheeled to starboard, and was lost to sight.
And Wu, who wished she could have accompanied the ensigns in their shuttlecraft, instead returned to the bridge to direct the rescue effort from the captain’s chair.
Ben Zoma considered the triangular cave mouth in front of him, which was little more than a meter high but as many as three meters wide. It was dark inside the opening, but not too dark to catch a glimpse of the water through which they would all soon be swimming.
Joseph turned to Simenon. “How far did you say it would be?”
The Gnalish shrugged. “Not that far. Thirty meters or so. But there’s no light and it’s not quite a straight path. That’s why you’ve got to hug one of the walls as you go forward.”
Ben Zoma filed the information away for when his turn came. But that wouldn’t be for a while. Vigo would be the first one in the water, followed by Simenon.
Vigo smiled at the Gnalish, no doubt hoping to inspire confidence in his abilities. “I’m ready to try it if you are,” he said.
Simenon frowned as he studied the cave mouth. “All right,” he said after a moment. “But now that I think about it, I want someone to tie the end of the vine around my waist. That way I don’t have to worry about losing my grip.”
“But,” Greyhorse protested, “if you get stuck, you won’t be able to free yourself. You’ll be lost down there.”
Simenon looked grim as he glanced at the doctor. “That’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
No one else argued with him. It was, after all, his life at stake. He had a right to do what he thought best.
“Here goes,” said Vigo.
He checked the vine wrapped around his middle and pulled the knot that held it a little tighter. Then he hunkered down, made his way into the cave, and took a series of deep breaths. After the last and deepest, he submerged himself and was gone.
The water gurgled