Subterrestrial by Michael McBride Page B

report and the water took on a crimson cast.
    Martin felt the warmth diffuse around him.
    Something moved quickly past his hip. What felt like fingers grazed his thigh.
    He affixed the charges to the limestone between the bases of two stalactites and activated the remote trigger.
    The water slowly stilled. He watched the silt settle around him as though he were trapped in a filthy snow globe.
    Condensation dripped from the stalactites with a faint plink . . . plink . . .
    His heartbeat thundered inside his head. He worried the force of its beating would betray him.
    With painstaking slowness, he brought the com-link on the inside of his wrist to his mouth and raised his chin just high enough that he could speak. He watched the surface for the slightest hint of movement, any shift in the sparkling sediment beneath it. He used his chin to open the channel and cringed at the resultant hiss of static from his in-ear receiver.
    A subtle shift in the current to his right.
    Plink . . . plink . . .
    “Speranza Base,” he whispered. “This is Echo Four. Copy?”
    Movement to his left. It looked almost like the arched back of a seal breaking the surface in his peripheral vision. By the time he turned, only ripples remained.
    “Speranza Station. Do you copy?”
    The static crackled like an electrical current.
    Plink . . . plink . . .
    Something brushed against his side. It was all he could do not to propel himself away from it.
    He lowered the pistol under the water, slowly so as not to generate ripples. Tightened his finger on the trigger. He was only going to get one shot at this.
    Plink . . . plink . . .
    Sharp pain in his left thigh. He opened his mouth to bellow in pain and tasted water, felt it flood into his lungs. He managed to get off a single shot as his blood diffused into the water and he was dragged down into the darkness.

FOUR

I
    Below Speranza Station
    Bering Sea
    Ten Miles Northwest of Wales, Alaska
    65°47′ N, 169°01′ W
    Calder stared down at the remains. There was something about them . . . something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was more than the mere fact that the carcass was mammalian, which by itself was well outside of her area of expertise. Her brain was positively screaming for her to recognize something staring her right in the face, but, for the life of her, she just couldn’t see it.
    She had changed into the wetsuit provided for her in a matter of seconds, while the others were still hopping around trying to squeeze into theirs. The Thermoprene was heavier and considerably more binding than her own neoprene wetsuit, although it was immediately obvious that the company had spared no expense. The Thermoprene boots had molded soles that formed to the contours of her feet and made her feel as though she were barefoot.
    The sound of voices grew louder from the cavern behind her. They were nearly done changing. In her experience, people tended not to be too talkative while they were bouncing around in their skivvies amid a group of strangers. She didn’t have long before they would catch up with her. She just wanted a few minutes alone to see if she could figure out what was setting off the alarm bells in her head.
    It wasn’t the skeleton itself, per se, but rather something about it. She understood why the others were here. For them, this had to be a dream come true. Why was she here, though? She might have been hundreds of feet below sea level, but she was totally out of her element.
    The answer was right in front of her. She could feel it.
    She traced the edges of the stone recess. They weren’t as smooth as they’d appeared from a distance. A brown crust reminiscent of dead moss clung to them. She peeled off a section and rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t plant matter at all. Its tensile strength was considerable, almost as though it were made of collagen or some other fibrous protein aggregate. She let it fall from her hand and touched the