Abduction by Robin Cook Page A

breath they braced themselves for the impact. The depth gauge reached zero and stopped.
Immediately following that final click of the gauge, a loud sucking noise emanated from somewhere outside the craft. After that, comparative silence reigned within the sub. Now the only sound was a combination of the ventilation fan and an augmented but still muffled electronic whir of the propulsion system.
Almost a minute passed without the slightest sensation of movement. Finally Perry breathed out. "Well," he said. "What happened?" "We can't be airborne for this long," Suzanne admitted. Everyone relaxed their death grips and looked out their respective view ports. It was still as dark as pitch.
"What the hell?" Donald questioned. He looked back at his instruments. The sonar monitors were now filled with meaningless electronic noise. He turned them off. He also dialed down the power to the propulsion system, and its whirring stopped. He looked at Suzanne. "Don't ask me," Suzanne said when their eyes met. "I haven't the slightest idea what's going on." "How come it's dark outside if we're on the surface?" Perry asked. "This doesn't make any sense," Donald said. He looked back at his instruments. Reaching forward, he put power back to the propulsion system. The whirring noise reappeared but there was no motion. The craft stood absolutely still.
"Somebody tell me what's going on," Perry demanded. The euphoria he'd felt a few moments earlier

had dissipated. They obviously were not on the surface.
"We don't know what is happening," Suzanne admitted. "There's no resistance to the propeller," Donald reported. He turned the propulsion system off. The whirring died away for a second time. Now the only sound was the ventilation fan. "I think we are in air." "How can we be in air?" Suzanne said. "It's totally dark and there is no wave action." "But it's the only explanation for the sonar not working and the lack of resistance to the propeller," Donald said. "And look. The outside temperature has risen to seventy degrees. We've got to be in air." "If this is the next life, I'm not ready for it," Perry said. "You mean we're out of the water entirely?" Suzanne still had trouble believing it. "I know it sounds crazy," Donald admitted. "But it's the only way I can explain everything, including the fact that the underwater phone doesn't work." Donald next tried the radio and had no luck with that either.
"If we're sitting on dry land," Suzanne said, "how come we haven't tipped over? I mean, this hull is a cylinder. If we were on dry land, we'd surely roll over on our side." "You're right!" Donald admitted. "That I can't explain." Suzanne opened an emergency locker between the two pilot seats and pulled out a flashlight. Turning it on, she directed it out her view port. Pressed up against it on the outside was cream-colored, coarse-grained muck.
"At least we know why we didn't tip over," Suzanne said. "We're sitting in a layer of globigerina ooze." "Explain!" Perry said. He'd leaned forward to see for himself. "Globigerina ooze is the most common sediment on the ocean floor," Suzanne said. "It's composed mainly of the carcasses of a type of plankton called foraminifera." "How can we be sitting in ocean sediment and be in air?" Perry asked. "That's the question," Donald agreed. "We can't, at least not in any way that I know of." "It's also impossible for globigerina ooze to be this close to the Mid-Atlantic Ridge," Suzanne said. "That sediment is found in the middle of the abyssal plains. Nothing makes sense." "This is absurd!" Donald snapped. "And I don't like it at all. Wherever we are, we're stuck!" "Could we be completely buried in the ooze?" Perry asked hesitantly. If he was right, he did not want to hear the answer.
"No! Not a chance," Donald said. "If that were the case there would be more resistance to the propeller, not less."

For a few minutes no one spoke.
"Is there any chance we could be inside the seamount?" Perry asked, finally breaking the