"Dr. Johnson, may we see what is in your hand, sir!"
"No, damn it, you may not."
"Very good, Sir!"
Norman turned, and walked back to D Cyl.
* * *
"I saw," Beth said, nodding to the monitor.
Norman looked at the monitor, at the two women in the corridor. Then he looked at the adjacent monitor, which showed the sphere.
"The sphere has changed!" Norman said.
The convoluted grooves of the doorway were definitely altered, the pattern more complex, and shifted farther up. Norman felt sure it was changed.
"I think you're right," Beth said. "When did that happen?"
"We can run the tapes back later," she said. "Right now we'd better take care of those two."
"How?" Norman said.
"Simple," Beth said, bunching her fists again. "We have five explosive spearheads in B Cyl. I'll go into B, get two of them, blow the guardian angels away. You run in and jab Harry."
Her cold-blooded determination would have been chilling if she didn't look so beautiful. There was a refined quality to her features now. She seemed to grow more elegant by the minute.
"The spear guns are in B?" Norman said.
"Sure. Look on video." She pressed a button. "Hell." In B Cyl the spearguns were missing.
"I think the son of a bitch has covered his bases," Norman said. "Good old Harry."
Beth looked at him thoughtfully. "Norman, are you feeling okay?"
"Sure, why?"
"There's a mirror in the first-aid kit. Go look."
He opened the white box of the kit and looked at himself in the mirror. He was shocked by what he saw. Not that he expected to look good; he was accustomed to the pudgy contours of his own face, and the gray stubble of his beard when he didn't shave on weekends.
But the face staring back at him was lean, with a coarse, jet-black beard. There were dark circles beneath smoldering, bloodshot eyes. His hair was lank and greasy, hanging over his forehead. He looked like a dangerous man.
"I look like Dr. Jekyll," he said. "Or, rather, Mr. Hyde."
"Yeah. You do."
"You're getting more beautiful," he said to Beth. "But I'm the man who was mean to Jerry. So I'm getting meaner."
"You think Harry's doing this?"
"I think so," Norman said. Adding to himself: I hope so. "You feel different, Norman?"
"No, I feel exactly the same. I just look like hell."
"Yes. You look a little frightening."
"I'm sure I do."
"You really feel fine?"
"Beth ..."
"Okay," Beth said. She turned, looked back at the monitors. "I have one last idea. We both get to A Cyl, put on our suits, get into B Cyl, and shut down the oxygen in the rest of the habitat. Make Harry unconscious. His guards will disappear, we can go in and jab him. What do you think?"
"Worth a try."
Norman put down the syringe. They headed off toward A Cyl.
In C Cyl, they passed the two guards, who again snapped to attention.
"Dr. Halpern, sir!"
"Dr. Johnson, sir!"
"Carry on, men," Beth said.
"Yes, sir! May we ask where you are going, sir!"
"Routine inspection tour," Beth said.
There was a pause. "Very good, sir!"
They were allowed to pass. They moved into B Cyl, with its array of pipes and machinery. Norman glanced at it nervously; he didn't like screwing around with the life-support systems, but he didn't see what else they could do.
In A Cyl, there were three suits left. Norman reached for his. "You know what you're doing?" he asked.
"Yes," Beth said. "Trust me."
She slipped her foot into her suit, and started zipping it up.
And then the alarms began to sound throughout the habitat, and the red lights flashed again. Norman knew, without being told, that it was the peripheral alarms.
Another attack was beginning.
1520 HOURS
They ran back through the lateral connecting corridor directly from B Cyl into D. Norman noticed in passing that the crewmen had gone. In D, the alarms were clanging and the peripheral sensor screens glowed bright red. Norman glanced at the video monitors.
I AM COMING.
Beth quickly scanned the screens.
"Inner thermals are activated. He's coming, all right."
They felt a thump, and Norman turned to look out the porthole. The green squid was already outside, the huge suckered arms coiling around the base of the habitat. One great arm slapped flat against the porthole, the suckers distorted against the glass.
I AM HERE.
"Harryyy!" Beth shouted.
There was a tentative jolt, as squid arms gripped the habitat. The slow, agonizing creak of metal.
Harry came running into the room. "What is it?"
"You know what it is, Harry!" Beth shouted.
"No, no, what is it?"
"It's the squid, Harry!"
"Oh my God, no," Harry moaned.
The habitat shook powerfully. The room lights flickered and went out. There was only flashing red now, from the emergency lights.
Norman turned to him. "Stop it, Harry."
"What are you talking about?" he cried plaintively. "You know what I'm talking about, Harry."
"I don't!"
"Yes, you do, Harry. It's you, Harry," Norman said. "You're doing it."
"No, you're wrong. It's not me! I swear it's not me!"
"Yes, Harry," Norman said. "And if you don't stop it, we'll all die."
The habitat shook again. One of the ceiling heaters exploded, showering fragments of hot glass and wire. "Come on, Harry. ..."