"Four twenty-nine ... four twenty-eight ..."
Chapter 24
Norman had trouble keeping his balance. He got one of Beth's legs into the hatch, but the other knee was bent, jammed against the lip of the hatch. He couldn't get her down. Every time he leaned forward to unbend her leg, the whole submarine tipped, and he would start to lose his balance again.
"Four sixteen ... four fifteen ..."
"Would you stop counting and do something!"
Harry pressed his body against the side of the submarine, countering the rolling with his weight. Norman leaned forward and pressed Beth's knee straight; she slid easily into the open hatch. Norman climbed in after her. It was a one-man airlock, but Beth was unconscious, and could not work the controls.
He would have to do it for her.
"Attention, please. Four minutes and counting."
He was cramped in the airlock, his body pressed up against Beth, chest to chest, her helmet banging against his. With difficulty he pulled the hatch closed over his head. He blew out the water in a furious rush of compressed air; unsupported by the water, Beth's body now sagged heavily against him.
He reached around her for the handle to the inner hatch. Beth's body blocked his way. He tried to twist her around sideways. In the confined space, he couldn't get any leverage on the body. Beth was like a dead weight; he tried to shift her body around, to get to the hatch.
The whole submarine began to sway: Harry was climbing up the side.
"What the hell's going on in there?"
"Harry, will you shut up!"
"Well, what's the delay?"
Norman's hand closed on the inner latch handle. He shoved it down, but the door didn't move: the door was hinged to swing inward. He couldn't open it with Beth in the hatch with him. It was too crowded; her body blocked the movement of the door.
"Harry, we've got a problem."
"Jesus Christ ... Three minutes thirty."
Norman began to sweat. They were really in trouble now.
"Harry, I've got to pass her out to you, and go in alone."
"Jesus, Norman ..."
Norman flooded the airlock, opened the upper hatch once again. Harry's balance atop the submarine was precarious. He grabbed Beth by the air hose, dragged her up.
Norman reached up to close the hatch.
"Harry, can you get her feet out of the way?"
"I'm trying to keep my balance here."
"Can't you see her feet are blocking - " Irritably, Norman pushed Beth's feet aside. The hatch clanged down. The air blasted past him. The hatch pressurized.
"Attention, please. Two minutes and counting."
He was inside the submarine. The instruments glowed green.
He opened the inner hatch.
"Norman?"
"Try and get her down," Norman said. "Do it as fast as you can."
But he was thinking they were in terrible trouble: at least thirty seconds to get Beth into the hatch, and thirty seconds more for Harry to come down. A minute all together -
"She's in. Vent it."
Norman jumped for the air vent, blew out the water.
"How'd you get her in so fast, Harry?"
"Nature's way," Harry said, "to get people through tight spaces." And before Norman could ask what that meant, he had opened the hatch and saw that Harry had pushed Beth into the airlock head first. He grabbed her shoulders and eased her onto the floor of the submarine, then slammed the hatch shut. Moments later, he heard the blast of air as Harry, too, vented the airlock.
The submarine hatch clanged. Harry came forward. "Christ, one minute forty," Harry said. "Do you know how to work this thing?"
"Yes."
Norman sat in the seat, placed his hands on the controls. They heard the whine of the props, felt the rumble. The sub lurched, moved off the bottom.
"One minute thirty seconds. How long did you say to the surface?"
"Two thirty," Norman said, cranking up the ascent rate. He pushed it past 6.6, to the far end of the dial.
They heard a high-pitched shriek of air as the ballast tanks blew. The sub nosed up sharply, began to rise swiftly.
"Is this as fast as it goes?"
"Yes."
"Jesus."
"Take it easy, Harry."
Looking back down, they could see the habitat with its lights. And then the long lines of explosives set over the spaceship itself. They rose past the high fin of the spacecraft, leaving it behind, seeing only black water now.
"One minute twenty."
"Nine hundred feet," Norman said. There was very little sensation of movement, only the changing dials on the instrument panel to tell them they were moving.
"It's not fast enough," Harry said. "That's a hell of a lot of explosive down there."
It is fast enough, Norman thought, correcting him.
"The shock wave will crush us like a can of sardines," Harry said, shaking his head.
The shock wave will not harm us.
Eight hundred feet.
"Forty seconds," Harry said. "We'll never make it."
"We'll make it."
They were at seven hundred feet, rising fast. The water now had a faint blue color: sunlight filtering down.
"Thirty seconds," Harry said. "Where are we? Twenty-nine ... eight ..."
"Six hundred twenty feet," Norman said. "Six ten."
They looked back down the side of the sub. They could barely discern the habitat, faint pinpricks of light far beneath them.
Beth coughed. "It's too late now," Harry said. "I knew from the beginning we'd never make it."
"Yes we will," Norman said.