Part 26 (2/2)
Tane added, ”We're not scoring too well at the moment.”
”No,” Crowe mused. ”If it were true, and I'm not saying I believe you just yet, then it would raise some interesting complications. Have you heard of the grandfather paradox?”
”Oh G.o.d, don't start,” Tane groaned. ”You'll be building a Mobius strip soon.”
”What?” Crowe asked, but got no answer.
”I've been thinking about the snowmen,” Rebecca said.
So that was why she had been so still for so long.
She continued, ”And I don't think they fit with your theory of bacterial cl.u.s.ters.”
”Go on,” said Crowe.
”And you surely don't still think we're dealing with terrorists?”
”Possibly not.”
Rebecca lapsed back into silence.
A new voice joined the conversation, and Tane realized that Manderson had s.h.i.+fted one of his long legs across, touching Rebecca's and thus linking him in to the conversation.
Manderson said, ”I might try sticking just my hand above water and seeing if I can pick up a signal. Let the others know where we are.”
Crowe's helmet bobbed up and down in a nod. ”Worth a try.”
Manderson rolled himself into a sitting position, then squatted, tentatively raising a hand up into the air above the pool.
”Blue Three, this is...” He stopped talking and s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand into the water again as fast ripples spread across the surface of the pool toward him. The light cascaded in waves over the sides of the pool as some kind of feeding frenzy took place above them.
The short flurry of activity died away as Manderson lay back down on the floor of the pool. ”Won't be trying that again,” he said.
”Any chance the fog will move on?” Tane asked.
”It's several miles wide and growing,” Crowe answered. ”It won't pa.s.s us by in time. We only have a couple of hours of air left.”
”And then what?” Rebecca asked.
”You tell me,” Crowe replied. ”Ask your friends from the future.”
Manderson asked, ”How did they know that I was there? I'm in a biosuit; they can't smell me. They can't see me, except for my hand. They're not bothering Z1. How did they even know who or what I am?”
”Maybe they know what a human hand looks like,” Crowe conjectured.
The words connected with some hidden memory in Tane's brain, and he said absently, ”Shape recognition.”
”What's that again?” Rebecca asked abruptly.
”Shape recognition,” Tane repeated, wondering where he had heard the phrase before.
Rebecca removed her hand, cutting herself out of the conversation, and was still again, thinking.
Tane looked at his oxygen gauge. What would they do when the air ran out? Face the snowmen? Pray that the fog had moved on more quickly than they expected? The only thing to do now was wait it out. ”Don't move too much,” Crowe had said to them just after they had submerged. ”It uses oxygen.”
The tranquillity of the pool bottom was shattered suddenly with a huge splash, and Tane's heart leaped inside his chest as something plunged into the water at the shallow end of the pool. It was a snowman. It had to be a snowman. He cowered away from the shock wave that swept past him and fought the urge to surface. That would be fatal.
It wasn't a snowman. It was a rescue harness, attached to a long steel wire cable.
Crowe was at the harness in a second. He ignored it and grabbed the wire cable with his hand, using his free hand to key his radio.
It took Tane a moment to realize what he was doing. The steel cable acted as a huge aerial, taking the signal from Crowe's radio out above the water. He touched Crowe lightly on the ankle, to hear the conversation.
”Rescue helicopter, this is Dr. Crowe of the USABRF,” Crowe said. ”We are mighty glad to see you.”
A New Zealand accent came back through the earpiece, terse and professional. ”Dr. Crowe, how many in your party? Over.”
”Six. How fast is your winch?”
”Two feet a second at full speed. Why do you ask? Over.”
”Not fast enough. We will be attacked on the way up. I repeat, we will be under attack on the way up. You have to get us clear of the fog faster than that.”
”We could climb as we winch. That would more than double the speed. Over.”
”That'll have to do.”
Crowe motioned Rebecca toward him and strapped her into the harness. He grabbed the wire again. ”Crowe to rescue helicopter. Allow some slack in the line also. Then start climbing and winching at the same time. You'll whip us out of here like a slingshot.”
”Roger that. Over.”
”First person ready,” Crowe said. ”Take her away.”
Rebecca grasped onto the harness tightly, as if she might fall out of it, although it was a secure-looking strap. Tane lifted a hand in a kind of goodbye wave, but she was already gone.
She was there one moment and not there the next as the whiplas.h.i.+ng cable s.n.a.t.c.hed her from the bottom of the pool like a tiny doll on the end of a bungee cord.
A moment or two later, the harness splashed back into the water, near Crowe. He pointed to Tane.
The harness felt snug and secure around his shoulders, but like Rebecca, he grasped it firmly. He had seen the speed of the whiplash and did not want to be jerked out of the harness by it. He clipped the handle of the Chronophone to a metal clip at his shoulder.
The cable above him tensed, and then suddenly the water was gone, fog rus.h.i.+ng down past him. White shapes roared toward him, rising up with him, but then he was above the mist, hanging below a large black helicopter in the broad suns.h.i.+ne of a beautiful summer's day.
<script>