Deep Storm

54

Crane took an involuntary step backward, bumping his shoulders hard against the metal flank of the Facility. He stared in disbelief.

The platform they stood on jutted out roughly thirty feet over the sea floor, into which the base of the Facility had been embedded. Below, a bizarre, almost lunar landscape spread out toward the dome: the exposed sea bed. It rose and fell crazily, in small, alien hills and valleys and ripples, partly submerged. It was a dark-chocolate color, and in the half-light of the dome it shone with an eerie luminescence. It appeared to be made up of a fine, muddy, foul-smelling silt.

But this was not what arrested his horrified gaze. It was the view above.

The dome that surrounded and protected the Facility rose in a gentle curve until it was almost lost from sight, far above. To one side of their little platform, a vertical line of heavy rungs had been bolted onto the Facility's outer skin. These rose, in a straight and unbroken line, up the sheer metal face. Near the top of the Facility, Crane could barely make out the narrow catwalk that led out to the receiving platform for the Tub-the catwalk he himself had crossed the week before. Between this catwalk and their own small ledge, Crane could see one of the massive, tube-shaped pressure spokes that ran like a hollow skewer between the dome and the Facility. This, too, he had seen before.

Except now it looked very different. At the spot where the spoke met the wall of the Facility, torrents of water were spitting and boiling outward and downward in huge, angry spumes. This was the source of the awful roar: a violent cataract of water, jetting from a rent in the pressure spoke with the murderous intensity of a machine gun. Even as he stared, the tear seemed to widen and the gush of seawater increase.

Although half dazed by the awful sight, Crane was immediately aware of several things. Whether structural failure or sabotage, this was the explosion he'd heard. And despite the business-as-usual atmosphere inside the Facility, things were far from all right; if damage control hadn't realized that by now, they would at any second.

With this single glimpse, all Crane's fears, hopes, and goals reversed themselves in an instant.

For a moment he turned instinctively toward the hatch, as if to duck back inside and warn the workers in the Drilling Complex of their peril. Then he remembered that the escape hatch was one-way: reentry at this level was impossible. Besides, the sea floor beneath them was now almost entirely covered in black water, and more was raining down all around them from the widening breach above; within minutes, their tiny platform and the exit hatch would surely be underwater…

He suddenly became aware of a sharp pain in his hand. He looked over to see that Hui Ping was squeezing it as she stared upward at the whirling kaleidoscope of water, her face and hair damp from spray.

He gently freed his hand. "Come on," he said. "We can't stay here."

"I can't do this," she murmured.

She had said much the same thing within the airlock. "We have no choice," Crane replied.

Her eyes moved to his for a moment. Then she lowered them. "I'm afraid of heights," she said.

Crane stared at her. Shit. Oh, shit.

He took a deep breath. Then-trying to ignore the furious storm of water overhead and the icy rain that fell around them-he put a hand on her shoulders and stared kindly into her eyes. "There's no choice now, Hui. You've got to."

"But-"

"It's the only way. I'll be right behind you. I promise."

She looked at him a moment longer, water streaming down her cheeks. Then she swallowed, gave a faint nod.

He turned her toward the gray metal wall of the Facility, placed her right hand on the lowest rung. "Just take it one step at a time."

For a moment she remained motionless, and Crane wondered if her fear had immobilized her. Then-slowly, tentatively-she placed her left hand on the next rung; tested her grip; pulled herself up, fitting her left foot onto the lowest rung.

"That's it," he said encouragingly over the roar of water. "That's it."

She pulled herself up another few rungs and he began climbing as well, staying as close to her as possible. The rungs were cold and treacherously slippery. The smell of salt water was thick in his nostrils.

They climbed very slowly, their silence broken only by Hui's faint gasps of effort. The roar grew louder, and Crane ventured another glance upward. Vast sheets of water were coruscating out from the breach now, curling and twisting away in downward spirals. A faint mist, born of the violently atomized water, was rising everywhere in ragged sheets; illuminated by the weak sodium lights, it looked ethereal and strange, treacherously beautiful.

Hui's foot slipped, her shoe skidding dangerously close to Crane's face. She let out a cry and pressed herself tightly against the rungs.

"I can't," she said. "I can't."

"Just take it easy," Crane said soothingly. "Nice and slow. Don't look down."

Hui nodded without turning her head. Taking a fresh grip on the rungs, she began climbing again, breathing hard.

They continued upward at the same, plodding pace. Crane estimated they'd climbed about forty feet so far. The torrents of water were growing stronger, spattering hard against his hands and face. The closer they got to the actual breach, he knew, the more violent it would get.

Another minute or two of climbing, then Hui stopped, gasping. "Need to rest."

"No problem. Make sure you've got a secure grip, then lean in against the rungs. You're doing great." Secretly, Crane was glad for a break, as well: his chest was heaving, and his fingers ached from gripping the cold metal rungs.

He guessed they were now probably just outside the Barrier. The skin of the Facility stretched out from them in all directions, a vast, gray monolithic cliff face of metal. Crane looked down, between his feet. The rungs they had already climbed fell away, a straight line leading into the spray and mist below. He could just make out the small platform they had first emerged onto, barely more than a speck far beneath him. Still farther down, at the extreme limits of visibility, the sea floor was now entirely covered by restless, roiling ocean.

"There's something I haven't asked," he shouted over the roar of the water.

Hui kept her gaze on the metal rungs. "What?"

"Where do we reenter the Facility?"

"I'm not sure."

This stopped him. "Excuse me?"

"I know there's one, maybe two access hatches on the upper floors. But I don't know what decks they're on."

"Fair enough." Crane wiped his dripping eyes, shook the water from his hair.

They had, he estimated, perhaps as many as a hundred more feet left to climb. From his precarious vantage point, he glanced uneasily up at the damaged pressure spoke. It was just two floors or so above them now, a massive, horizontal spar half obscured by the cascades that jetted from the rupture in its skin. The blizzard of water was so intense Crane was unable to tell if the Facility had been punctured, as well. He let his eye travel farther up the line of rungs. Luckily, they were bolted at some distance from the spoke. Even so, the rungs directly overhead were being lashed and buffeted by wave after wave of black seawater.

It would be a bitch to climb through that.

He felt his heart accelerating, and the muscles of his legs begin to spasm. He glanced away. The sight was paralyzing; if he didn't start moving again right away, he never would.

"Let's get going," he called out over the cataract.

They resumed their slow climb. With each new rung they ascended, the force of water against them grew stronger. Where before it had felt like a drenching downpour, now-as they began to draw level with the breach-the water was coming at them more and more horizontally.

Crane could barely see Hui's legs amid the water. "Careful!" he shouted. "Be sure you're secure before taking a new step!" He opened his mouth again to say more, but salt water abruptly filled it and he turned away, coughing and choking.

Pull up…anchor feet…reach for a rung…pull up again. Crane tried to think of nothing but climbing, to lose himself in the rhythm. The water was driving straight at him, filling his eyes and ears, tugging at his fingers, trying to pluck him bodily from the face of the Facility. He had lost track of how far they'd ascended now; and with water all around him-flooding over his limbs, blinding him, chilling him to the bone-it was impossible to determine by sight. It seemed his whole world was water. The very breaths he gulped were more water than air. He began to feel light-headed, disoriented.

He stopped, shook his head to clear it. Then he reached up, grabbed another rung; his hand began to slip and he grasped the rung tighter, steadying himself. Turning his face away from the water, he took a deep breath, then pulled himself up. We must be opposite the spoke by now, he thought. This can't go on much longer. It can't.

Suddenly, he heard a shriek directly above him, the sound all but lost in the thunder of the water. A moment later something struck him violently in the head and shoulders, and he almost let go of the rungs. A weight now hung around his neck, jerking and thrashing. He stood in the blinding, choking whirlwind of water, fighting to keep his hold.

Then there was another cry, almost in his ear, and he abruptly understood. Hui had slipped and fallen. In a desperate attempt at self-preservation, she'd managed to grab him.

"Hui!" he yelled.