Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S3 Ep118: Episode 118: Horror Stories from the Ocean Depths

Episode Date: March 23, 2023

Tonight’s opening epic tale of terror is ‘The Ocean is much Deeper than You Think’, an original story Richard Saxon, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all (part three exclusively narrated before appearing anywhere else):  https://www.reddit.com/user/richard-saxon Today’s final terrifying tale of horror is the classic ‘The Danger from the Deep’, an old-school work by the wonderful Ralph Milne Farley, freely available in the public domain and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA 3.0 license. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/33016/pg33016-images.html#The_Danger_from_the_Deep 

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepen's Dungeon, the ocean. We know so little about the depths of our oceans that we should be truly terrified of what's down there. Two terrifying tales from the ocean's depths this evening for you. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing.

and let's begin. They told me you were experienced in harsh waters. James said as he pointed out the pearls of sweat that had formed on my forehead. Yeah, I do. I replay moments before hurling the remnants of a less than appetizing lunch off the side of our ship. It's just that, you look a bit green around the gills, he continued with a smirk. We'd just met a few hours ago. I've been airlifted to USS Orion, the sea lift handling abyssal transport capsules for a classified project conducted by the United States Navy.

I guess they failed to mention that I'm much better underwater in submarines. I shot back. Considering the circumstances, his casual demeanour left an uncomfortable atmosphere among the workers. They all knew what my visit entailed, but just like myself, they were scant with information. All I knew was there might be a contagious infection at the bottom of the ocean, and my job was to either disprove it or to confine the entire crew aboard the station. As soon as we were positioned securely on top of the Tonga Trench, we were rushed into the transport capsule, a minuscule, vertical submarine designed to simply take us to the base on the ocean floor, 20,000 feet below us.

TALOS. I entered the sub, feeling excited, while also dreading the return to the deep blue. It had been ten years since serving as a hospital corpsman, one of the few actually stationed aboard a submarine. Over the years I clearly lost the natural sense I once had for the ocean, yet I longed desperately for it. "'Whenever you're ready, Doc,' one of the crew-member said, impatiently waiting to drop us into the abyss.

I raised my thumb As ready as I'll ever be Go ahead Ten feet The sunlight zone The impact with the ocean Lightly shook the capsule As we submerged

My nausea quickly diminished And a sense of peace washed over my mind I was back Outside the window A few curious fish Accompanied our journey downwards Various sea life attracted by the cargo ship

Following to see us off James piloted the miniature sub, having done the trip a thousand times before, it wasn't anything new to him. Myself, I'd never been below 2,000 feet, and never had I been able to look through the window and admire the mostly unexplored blue world. 3,300 feet, the midnight zone. As we sank deeper towards the abyss, the last strays of sunshine vanished. We'd left the realm of sunshine and mankind All in favour for the domain of darkness First time in the abyss right

James asked after a long bout of silence Yeah I served aboard a submarine for a few years But well they never go a very drape This This is something else He smiled at me Well you're in for a treat then

We're going all the way down Talos sits right at the edge of the trench. Ain't nothing quite like it. Any sea life once curious about our suburb long since retreated towards brighter areas. The rapidly increasing pressure had proven hostile to most, but some resilient little creatures had found a way to thrive in places once thought to be lifeless. The miracles of the ocean. Within half an hour, we'd reached a depth of ten thousand feet.

beyond the 15-inch glass pane, separating us from certain death, like nothing but everlasting darkness. For all we knew, the two of us could have been all that existed in that void, if not for the sound of the outer hull settling under the pressure, a constant reminder about the vastness of the ocean. To distract myself from the unsettling creaking sound, I asked James about the only thing I could think about. Why don't you tell me more?

about what happened down there. James had acted casual thus far, but my question quickly changed his nonchalant expression to a frown. They briefed you on the surface, didn't they? Of course, but that'll have to do, he said firmly. 13,100 feet, the abyssal zone. The world outside hypnotized me, staring so far into nothing, knowing there could be a full world. You know, there could be a full world only a couple of feet before you was bizarre. I'd never experienced true darkness until that day, and to think a good portion of Earth's life had existed within it for millions of years. It terrified me. When I served aboard USS Cataseer, my captain had explained why they don't put windows on submarines. He told stories about shipmates going crazy after years at sea,

that the isolation or distance from the mainland never bothered any of them. He firmly believed that staring into the ocean and pondering its secrets was what truly drove men from their sanity, and to combat this, they never put windows on their vessels. It was clearly a tale he'd made up, seeing what truly lies beyond the surface brought back these memories. Maybe he was right, after all. My sinister thoughts were interrupted by a dim light, a period, in the distance, a red dot dancing blissfully up and down, getting closer to our little sun. It was a jellyfish. Oh, would you look at that? James said as he pointed at the little

creature, so fragile yet defying the deep sea pressure. Another light joined in. Then a few more, and before long a symphony of pulsating crimson lights formed around our capsule, welcoming us with the warmth of thousands of stars, making up their own little galaxy, thousands of feet below the surface. It was the most magnificent thing I'd ever seen, a bloom of jellyfish happily existing in such hostile conditions. I couldn't help but feel impressed. They're called a taller jellyfish, James stated. They don't usually venture this far down, but there's something about this place that seems to attract them. I usually see a few on my journeys down here, but never anything like this. I nodded in response, too mesmerized by the sight to notice what he'd said, but as quickly as

they appeared, they vanished, once more leaving us in absolute darkness. Listen, Doc, I'm sorry about that outburst earlier, James said. I turned towards him, turning my back to the darkness for the first time. It made me feel vulnerable. You gotta understand. This ain't something we usually deal with. And Mike, well, I've known him most of my life. I know how much this sucks. Believe me. I'm just trying to get as much info as possible, for all our sakes, I said.

Yeah, well, there's nothing I could tell you anyway. The airlock has been on lockdown for the past two days. We've been under strict orders not to open it until you deem it's safe enough to do so. I didn't ask any further questions. I had dealt with contagions ever since leaving the Navy, and 90% of the time, they were simple overreactions. 19,700 feet. The ocean basin.

For the first time since we left the ship, the radio came to life, emitting a static sound, one that slowly took the shape of a man's voice. James, can you hear me? the voice asked. Loud and clear, captain. I've got our man from the CDC with me as well. We're just about ready to dock.

Great. The crew is getting impatient. We... The radio started breaking up. The radio is... Doc at Section A. Don't... It shut off completely. Welcome to the Abyssal Zone.

James said. The radio has been acting strange lately. Imagine giving us a state-of-the-art station but calms from the last millennia. Through the window we could see a massive dome lit up by hundreds of lights. Three paths stretched from its centre, each lit up by different colours, making sectors A, B and C. There was something else lit up by the station's light. At first, just obscured figures leaving shadows in the sand.

And as we got closer, I realised they were fish. Hundreds, if not thousands of dead sea creatures littering the ocean bed. Their corpses mangled from the intense pressure. Christ What the hell is up with the fish? I asked, horrified. Same as the Atala. Something attracts them down here.

They swim until their bodies break under the pressure, and then they sink. What could possibly do that? There are a few theories, but from what we can tell, it's a sound that we periodically hear from the trench. The docking process in itself took quite some time. The altar hull had changed ever so slightly due to the high pressure, just enough so that

fitting into the station proved a challenge. As the doors finally opened, I stumbled outside the capsule, greeted by three of the crew members aboard. You're the doctor, right? The oldest of them asked. That's correct, I said as he reached out his hand to introduce himself. My name's Robert Lewis, and the captain assigned to Talos. he said as he shook my hand.

Thank you for coming this far. I know it's not the most pleasant journey. He seemed polite enough, though clearly sleep-deprived, with bloodshot eyes and greasy hair. This is Jennifer Burke, one of our biologists, and that's Henry Gale, our technician, he said. They both shook my hand, neither making eye contact as they did.

Hey, Cap, where's Abby? James asked. still at section B she's not doing too well as I'm sure you can understand he responded James nodded Let's talk Robert said as he gestured for me to follow The hallways were narrow

dimly lit up with lights that flickered constant creaking emitting from the walls It looked disproportionate considering how large it had all seemed from the outside And as a rather tall guy I had to crouch down to keep my head from knocking into the ceiling I'm sorry about the grim mood, Robert said. It's the first time we're dealing with something like this.

I'm assuming they told you about the situation on the surface, he asked. I did, but I have to admit, I'm a bit fuzzy on the details. As a wee, Mike put himself in lockdown as soon as he returned to the station, and we haven't had clearance to open it yet. He, Mike, didn't give any good reason. reasons, I asked. He never got the chance. He fell over dead the second he hit the button. Robert led us into the central dome. In contrast to the hallways, it was a pleasant surprise. A large living space filled with furniture and personal affects. Had I not known better,

I could have believed we were still on the surface. Mike discovered some microorganisms down in the trench, a new type of parasite, he said. He claimed that the same. He claimed they were able to withstand any amount of pressure, which isn't a surprise down here, but he also explained that they were completely unaffected by rapid changes in environment, Robert said, as he headed inside an office. Did he believe it was contagious? I asked. Seeing as he was our microbiologist, I can't really come up with another fathomable conclusion. Needless to say, we destroyed all the samples. We still don't know why he put himself into lockdown. Robert sighed.

But that's not the strangest thing. I waited patiently for him to continue. While he tried to form words, he clearly had trouble believing himself. We lost him down in the trench for three entire days. The tracking system failed and the comms went down. We did whatever he could, but it was futile. even if we had found him he only had enough oxygen for ten hours

so we unfortunately we presumed he died and then out of nowhere his tracker reappeared on our systems showing he was moving back up the Tonga elevator and though he never responded to any of our attempts at contacting him he was clearly alive how

it's impossible yet it happened. Once we let him into the station, he simply locked it down and fell over dead on the ground. Before Robert could continue, the technician walked into the office. When you examine him, be careful not to damage the EPM suit.

It's highly... This is hardly the time, Henry, Robert commanded, glaring at him. I'm just saying, this is a billion-dollar project. Why don't you go get the equipment for our doctor here, Robert demanded, getting more agitated by the minute. Look, Captain, if you just let me go into the airlock, I could take all the necessary precautions. Absolutely not. Do you think headquarters would have sent the damn CDC if they thought we could

handle it? For Christ's sake, Henry, know your limits. The technician left and quickly returned with a modified hazmat suit and some surgical supplies. We moved on towards Section B. Unlike the hallways we traversed before, these were large and well lit up. As we arrived at the airlock, we found Abbey standing before the glass door, staring longingly at Mike's lifeless body.

Abby, Robert said. I know, I know, it's time. She responded as she turned around. Oh, you're the doctor, she asked, her eyes red and voice trembling. I nodded. You'll figure out what did this to him, won't you? I just don't understand.

Abby, why don't you come with me while they work? Robert said. You don't need to see this. As Robert led her back to the Central Dome, Henry started unpacking the cart of medical supplies, including isolation drapes and the hazmat suit. All right, I'm going to guide you through this. No need to mess up a perfectly good heap.

CPM suit, Henry said. What does CPM mean anyway? I asked. Ex-sacertal pressure modulator. Henry said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. James and Jennifer helped me seal the hazmat suit while Henry hung up the isolation traits. I stepped through while Jennifer entered a code behind me to open the airlock. My ears popped as they sealed the door shut behind me.

Both the drapes and the airlock were transparent, meaning they could observe everything I did, in addition to a mounted camera on my shoulder for closer view, displayed on the monitor on the other side. Just by the control panel, Mike lay dead, wearing a massive black suit, looking more like a robotic piece of machinery than a diver's gear. There were several cables and hooks hanging from the ceiling, and just turning him over was a massive task. as he weighed about half a ton wearing that suit. His face was pale as a sheet, with thin streaks of blood pouring from every available orifice.

The eyes were red from conjunct hyval bleeding, completely ridding them from any whites. I'm ready, I said. All right. First thing you need to do is to simply inspect the suit. Look for any breaches in the integrity. It shouldn't be possible, but in the unlike, event that something broke through, a self-healing mesh should have formed.

It kind of looks grey. I looked over every inch of his suit, from top to bottom. There, his feet, Henry yelled. Sure enough, there was a patch of grey that stood out from the matte black metal covering the rest of him. Something actually perforated his suit, Henry said, surprised. I got closer, giving them a better view on the monitor. clearly the puncher wasn't what killed him though he added i had to agree with that assessment any breach not sealed off within a nanosecond would immediately crush him but it seemed that the mesh had replaced whatever penetrated the suit at the same time as it was removed okay next attach the cables to his shoulder they're color-coded so it should be easy enough i attach the cables as instructed which caused the suit to his shoulder they're color-coded so it should be easy enough i attach the cables as instructed which caused the suit to

to light up and start unhinging. The front of the suit opened up, revealing Mike's completely mangled body. What the hell? James asked. That's not pressure damage, Henry responded. Mike's ribs were broken outwards. Oh, they had not torn apart his flesh. His chest seemed to have expanded to almost twice its normal size.

I continue to remove the helmet. pulling it off his head. I looked into his eyes for a brief moment, baffled as to what could have caused his internal organs to essentially explode. For the briefest of moments, it seemed like his eyes moved to meet my gaze. Did you just see that? I asked.

No one said a word. We all just stared at Mike, waiting for something to happen. His eyes moved again, darting in random direction. as he started gargling, violently contracting his chest. Oh God, is he still alive? Jennifer asked.

He opened his mouth, letting thousands of massive worms pour out onto the floor. They immediately crawled in every direction, up the walls onto the ceiling, desperately searching for a way out. Mike continued to spew out more slimy worms. His mouth tore open in the process, leaving his jaw completely unhinged before falling off. Once all the worms seemed to have exited his corpse, his chest tore open, revealing even larger worms.

It quickly became apparent that all of his organs had been consumed, replaced with the disgusting creatures. Some of them started clinging to my suit as I swatted at them in panic. None of the others knew what to do. They could only stare at me, flailing around. As the worms touched each other, their flesh temporarily fused, forming longer versions of themselves, growing in size and then breaking off again. They wrapped around my arms and legs. I begged for someone to help me, but what could they do?

Hang in there, Henry yelled, as he fumbled with the panel for the airlock. Within seconds, a few small taps emerged from the ceiling, spewing what I could only assume was liquid nitrogen. Whatever it was, the worms froze in place, freezing to the point where I could break them into tiny pieces. It only took a moment, but all the worms had been killed off. And though my suit had partially protected me from the cold, I collapsed, exhausted and shivering onto the ground.

Get me the fuck out of here, I demanded, knowing fully well they couldn't do that until I dealt with the infestation. Robert had just returned in time to see what the commotion was about, and upon seeing what remained of Mike, lying torn to pieces on the ground, he stopped in his tracks. After a minute of catching my breath, I got some sense back. With some morbid sense of humour and functioning on autopilets, I turned towards Henry.

Sorry, but the suit isn't going to be salvaged. we're ejecting the whole freaking airlock as soon as I get out of here and returned to Robert pleading for him to make me reconsider despite what we'd all just witnessed but Robert took my side

after removing the recording unit from the EPM suit I packed the entire thing into an easily ejectable container while making sure that no worms remained on my suit all I took was a small sample of a frozen worm packed into a vacuum

container. I exited the airlock and handed the sample over to Jennifer. She'd prepared the previous parasites brought back by Mike, and I told her to get everything ready so I could determine what we were dealing with. Robert started the procedure of ejecting the airlock's contents, including what remained of Mike and the EPM suit, Henry pouting the whole time. James hadn't moved an inch since the event.

He'd turned sickly pale. As if he just realized the severity of the situation. We have to tell him, Captain. He said quietly after a few minutes. Tell me what? I asked while getting out of the hazmat suit. Robert took a deep breath, mulling over his options. You're right. Tell me what, I repeated.

The real reason while we're stationed down here. Death can be a beautiful thing. Beyond all the stigma associated around the event, it's the beginning of a world that starts directly for the end of another. When a whale dies in extreme depths, they sink towards the ocean floor, where entire ecosystems arise from the decomposing bodies. This is called a whale fall. Mike's EPM suit had left behind three days' worth of footage.

Henry was put on the task of priestly. preparing it for viewing. While we couldn't save him, nor the suit, we could at least figure out how Mike had died. As we waited, the captain decided it was time for me to learn the truth about their mission, and why no one on the surface had ever heard about the scientific wonder that was Talos. You saw all the dead sea creatures littering the ocean floor around the station, Robert asked. I recall the hundreds of mangled bodies of fish, not the most welcoming sight to the abyss. James told me something, compelled them to dive down here. Some sort of sound? Robert nodded as he pulled up a computer. After a moment of fumbling, he clicked on a sound

file. About five years ago, we recorded this coming from the depths of the Tonga Trench. It was an oddly synthetic sound, like a Wales mating call had been pitched down and jumbled around, and in the midst of it there was something that sounded like a whisper. They recorded something similar around the Mariana trench, and called it the biotwang, Robert said. The sound played on loop as we talked, oddly eerie for something so innocent. We first thought it came from a whale, just a bit distorted after travelling vast distances,

or instrumental interference, but then we saw how it affected the one. wildlife in the region. Blooms of jellyfish appearing out of nowhere, and fish defying all instincts to dive towards crushing pressure. What made the sound, then, I asked. Robert pulled up some pictures on the screen, creatures similar to roundworms, just pitch black. They look nothing like what I'd just witnessed in the airlock, however. From what we can tell, there's a thus far completely undiscovered ecosystems somewhere down the trench, isolated for millions of years, unaffected by mass extinction events. They have evolved quite differently from life we see on the surface. It's like

millions of single-celled organisms working together to form more complex creatures. But unlike themselves, the cells can detach and rejoin it well. We have named it the synchitium. And that's what killed Mike. They could be part of it. But we just saw in the airlock is far larger than the microorganisms we gathered here. Before we could continue, James interrupted, letting us know the footage was ready to be viewed. If they ever decide to declassify the existence of this station, they'll never mention the creatures, nor the sound that alerted us to their presence. I'm sure one day they'll hail all this as a supreme technological advancement.

But truth be told, the reason why the Navy put Billy's... and billions of dollars into this project so that humanity could traverse the ocean floor is simply because they want to find whatever is making that sound and find a way of using it. Kep, they're waiting for us, James said. We gathered in the central area. Abbey's side in the back some distance away from everyone else.

She seemed even worse for where than before, frail, as if she'd lost weight in the past couple of hours since meeting. her. Henry controlled the footage, ready to speed through to the important bits, as the descent itself was quite slow. 20,000 feet. The hard old zone. Everything we saw would be from Mike's point of view. The footage started at the airlock. Abby standing before him with a concerned expression on her face. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it. It's not like it's my first time in the depths. It's not like they waste a billion dollars on me, Dad, anyway. She didn't seem consoled by his words.

This time is different. We haven't tested the suit beyond 30,000 feet yet, Abby said. No, but we've tested pressure. The suit should be able to go much further before breaking. Henry forwarded the footage. Mike stood directly at the edge of the Tonga Trench. To his left, a platform extended even,

even further down towards the Hardel zone, an elevator sat at the platform centre. A short distance down the trench, he saw endlessly long tendrils, gently swaying with the current. They belonged to the body of a malformed creature, looking like it couldn't possibly control its long appendages, yet it seemed unfazed by the depths. Guys, are you seeing this? He said excitedly as he pointed at the bizarre thing. "'It's a magnapunner squid.' "'He almost jogged along the edge to get a better view.

"'The suit audibly exhausted by the effort.' "'Too much strain on the suit?' Henry interjected over the radio. "'It'll be fine. What else did they pay for?' "'Bycast.' As he got closer to the squid, another popped up behind it, one with even longer appendages. "'Damn, I never thought I'd see one up so close.' "'Stop messing around, get on the elevator,' Henry demanded.

"'Fine, let's not enjoy our jobs then,' Mike responded. He boarded the elevator and strapped himself in. The journey would take him another 15,000 feet into the abyss. He was a loud, sturdy piece of machinery able to withstand the immense pressure of the dreaded Haddahl zone. Mike himself would control the speed of the descent, only handing over control to Henry should something happen. Not long after the descent started, Mike stalled the elevator.

The suit's making weird noises, he said. That's normal. We're adjusting to the pressure change. We told you it would happen the deeper you got, Henry explained, with an annoyed tone. Yeah, I know, but you'll be fine. 27,000 feet. Once more, Mike stopped the elevator, directing his gaze at an edge. sticking out from the cliffside. On it lay the corpse of a bowhead whale, almost a half a planet away from its natural habitat.

The whale had been partially hollowed out, riddled with deep sea eels and tiny eyeless fish, an entire ecosystem thriving from its death. How did that whale get here? Mike asked. It died like all the other creatures down here, Henry said. Yeah, but it's a bowhead. at least I think it is. Don't they live around the Arctic? Henry sighed. Just continue the descent. 35,433 feet.

Horizon deep. The elevator reached the bottom of the trench after about an hour, allowing Mike to finally unbuckle himself from his seat. He grabbed a box of beacons to allow the next person to easier navigate the area. After stepping off the platform, getting away from its bright lights. It became abundantly clear that the bottom of the ocean was far from empty, and that the entire bed was covered in previously undiscovered life.

Millions of fungal-like plants covering the floor, and transparent fat shrimps swimming between, apparently feeding off them. On the cliff wall itself, thousands of bioluminescent plants extended, just like a stalk with a blue bulb bending in the direction of Mike's movement. It was hauntingly beautiful, looking as alien as anything from another planet. He continued along the cliffside, putting down a beacon every hundred feet or so. I expected this place to be horrible, Mike said. You know, being named after the god of the underworld and all.

No one responded to this comment. Guys, you can still hear me, right? Yes, Mike, we can hear you, Henry says. We're here to work, not making me. stupid quips. Has anyone ever told you how much better life can be if you at least try to enjoy it, Henry? Stop being such a killjoy. We're making history down here.

Henry didn't respond. How about you hand Abby the radio? I'd rather listen to the captain ramble about protocol going on. Mike stopped, dead in his tracks, reaching the end of the cliff. Before him was a steep fall. leading down to an endless chasm of darkness. Henry, you sure the elevator took me all the way down the trench? He asked as he stared into the abyss.

Yeah, you're at 35,000 feet. Well, it's just I'm standing at the edge of the cliff, and this is clearly not the bottom of the ocean. That's impossible. We surveyed the entire area with sonar. Well, I'm telling you. Telling you. The ground beneath Mike crumbled to pieces.

He slid off the edge of the cliff and dove further into the deep. The darkness now surrounding him was absolute. Nothing could possibly help him orient himself as he fell. To fall in the ocean was a much slower process, giving him time to think what kind of fate awaited him as he sunk to depths never before known by mankind. He caught out for his crew members while desperately clawing at the cliff. But even with the suit, he was able to slow his descent. As he got deeper, the suit started emitting loud beeps, alarms to alert to rapid pressure changes exceeding 16,000 PSI.

But before he could even react, he hit the ground hard. Mike fell silent, passed out from the impact. A number of feet. The void Minutes after landing at unknown depths Mike awoke to the sound of his suit beeping The suit had held its ground And was just starting to adjust to the new pressure

The monometer was broken And with his tracking device malfunctioning We could only try to guess how far he'd fallen Mike grunted as he got to his feet Taking some time to figure out what had happened Henry You there he finally said.

No response. Captain, anyone. Apart from a few malfunctioning instruments, most of the suit seemed intact, yet no contact could be made with the base. Everything past that point would be after the comms went down, and we all patiently awaited to learn of Mike's fate.

Despite having fallen far beyond what we believe to be the ocean floor, he had just landed on another plateau, with an endless distance still progressing downwards. The abyss was ever present, taunting us with its emptiness. Please respond, he begged, defeated. He activated the beacon still attached to him and checked his surroundings. He'd landed directly in front of a cave leading inside the cliff wall and moving steeply upwards. While protocol strictly dictated to wait for rescue in these situations,

we could hear gargled sound emitting from the cave. Whatever it was, it compelled Mike to check out the cave. The walls inside were perfectly smooth, an impossible formation of rocks, reflecting the bright light shining from the EPM suit, lighting up the cave as far as it stretched. Mike stared at the shiny walls for a moment, adjusting the light.

They'd seem smooth in an angle, but when light was pointed directly at them, it uncovered bizarre patterns, like symbols not corresponding to any known language. While he studied the symbols, a loud sound shook through the cave, almost sweeping Mike off his feet. It sounded similar to the bio-twang,

but with slight differences, the rhythm was changed. It seemed to put Mike further into the world, to a trance, and he diligently followed the source, ignoring any chance of rescue the further in he went. The cave led to a much larger cavern, extending beyond the reach of any light source he had available. Unlike the tunnel, these walls weren't smooth, but were covered in millions of tiny holes, each perfectly round, each identical to the last. Upon closer inspection, the holes weren't empty, but filled with worms, just like the ones we'd seen spew out of his body inside the airlock.

They wriggled and reached from Mike as he walked through the cavern, pulled towards the sound in the distance, getting louder with each passing step. The deeper he got, the less he seemed distracted by the holes, which were growing in size alongside the worms. Mike's only hypnotic objective was to reach the sound. On top of the worms, spindly long-legged creatures walked across. They looked like shell-less spider crabs, dipping their limbs into the worms, merging temporarily while seeming to feed them, for with each dip into the holes, their limbs seemed to grow shorter while the worms expanded. Eventually, he reached a corner of the cavern.

and with it the source of the sound. It was a half-consumed whale-calf attached to the wall, bound by hundreds of massive worms extending into its torn flesh. Despite being half-eaten and broken beyond any chance at life, it somehow didn't succumb, as if the worms themselves kept it alive, involuntary life support, repurposed for their own needs. The calf gaped open its half-eaten chore,

So mangled Mike could see straight into its vocal cords, which were also covered in the worms, tugging and moving them into position. The whale screamed, emitting further jumbled sound that pulled Mike even closer. While Mike was distracted, several worms had emerged from their holes, rapidly swarming around him.

Within seconds, they joined together, wrapping around his legs and climbing up the suit. It temporarily brought Mike back to some, sanity as he tried to tear the worms off, but they were faster than him, trapped inside a slow, metal box. He stumbled to the ground, allowing more worms and their spindles to cover each of his limbs. The creatures merged together, forming a sheet of flesh that soon covered the entirety of his body. Mike fell silent, and the camera showed nothing but a flesh-coloured mass, muffling any audio, save for Mike's panic breath.

He screamed as a loud bang almost broke the speakers, the sound of his suit being perforated and the mesh refilling the hole we'd found on the sole of his feet. The creatures had gotten inside his suit, digging into his flesh, Mike crying in agony before falling silent. We all stood, speechless in front of the monitor, now displaying nothing but a timer, proving the camera was still running. Abby had left, with James following to console her.

That can't be it, Robert said. Let me forward it, Henry said, half whispering in shock. We forwarded through almost three days of nothing while the worms incubated inside Mike, trapped alone in the cavern, no one knowing where he was. The camera started clearing up,

The flesh sheet peeling off as the view showed that Mike had returned to the elevator. During the three days down in the trench, the synchium had occupied, covering it with their fleshy appendages. Mike was controlling it, or whatever it remained of him inside the suit. He wandered towards the station, flakes of sinctile flesh falling off him with each step. His crew called out for him over the radio now that they could reach him. but Mike could do nothing but gargle as worms that consumed most of his lungs. At the airlock he stumbled inside,

ready to unleash hell within the station. But for a brief moment, Mike managed to halt himself. Perhaps the thought of hurting those he loved was enough for him to temporarily gain control, just enough time to shut down the airlock, putting himself into lockdown. Mike collapsed to the ground.

He had died days ago. but his will remained even as he turned into nothing more than a vessel for the horrors he now carried within him. The footage ended. We stood in silence for a moment, none of us daring to speak a word about Mike's cause of death. I hardly believed it, despite having almost fallen victim to the same fate myself. Henry, call headquarters tell them we're shutting this project down. Robert said, breaking the silence. Jennifer, destroy

the sample from the airlock. It still sealed, right? Jennifer nodded, before heading towards the lap. We need to make sure that whatever this is, it stays in the abyss. I joined Henry as he attempted to call headquarters, the radio

returning nothing more than jumbled static. Robert was checking all security feed, sending out drones to scavenge for the synchium at the elevator. Captain, the calms are completely down. Can't get any signal. On the security feed we saw that the flash of the synchium had stretched along the ground, covering some of the corpses of fish that littered the ocean floor.

It was impossibly large, using the elevator and platform as a scaffold for climbing up towards the station. A loud, metallic clang sounded through the station, followed by an alarm. What the hell was that? I asked. Hull Breach, Sector C, an automated voice said.

Isolators, Robert demanded. What about, just do it, he continued. Henry frantically tried to navigate the security system, attempting to get an idea as to the extent of the damage. What's in sector C, I asked. It's the lab. Fuck. I hope Jennifer hadn't got there yet, Henry said.

While the station sealed, trapping anyone inside, another loud bang shook us. The alarm sounded again. Hullbridge, sector B. Oh, fuck. What now? Henry asked. Robert stood still in shock. Frozen by the decision of saving the station,

or fleeing. We have to evacuate, was all he said. Most of my old crew, after leaving the Navy, struggled to get over their longing for the ocean. Such was the case for my submarine captain, Louis Johnson. He always claimed the sea would be his final resting place, where he truly belonged. And following his honourable discharge,

he went straight into hyperbaric pipeline welding. It's a dangerous job. and the only enemy is invisible, always stalking each dive, each new mission, a foe that can't be sensed, but with the ability to destroy everything you are in, but with the ability to destroy everything you are in a split second. Pressure. Maybe I'm cursed, unable to live on land with my own people, but at least I'll die where I belong, he'd said.

Johnson would be lucky enough to forever be united with his one true love, at a sight of a burst pipe that took him away, finally making him one with a deep blue. It's funny how the brain operates as everything around you is falling to pieces, far beyond your own control. Once there's nothing left you can do, the mind turns to a place of safety, fond memories from a time long since past.

For me, those memories belong to my time of service, to my old captain and crew. It wasn't an easy time, but it wasn't. filled with purpose, with my problem solely confined to the ocean. When Robert yelled at me to get my ass in gear, I finally snapped back to reality. Doc, come on, we've got to get the hell out of here, he shouted. James returned to the central dome alongside Abbey. They'd heard the alarms, but hadn't the faintest idea what had occurred during their brief absence. Get to Section A. There are still two transport capsules, get number 05 ready for departure and wait for me, Robert said.

Cap, what are you going to do? James asked. Jennifer is in lockdown. I'm getting her out. What if the creatures got inside? Abby asked. Robert thought for a moment before handing her a walkie. If you don't hear from me, just leave, he ordered. The station shook as another hole was torn. through one of the sections. My ears popped from the shockwave. I'm coming with you, James said. You're not facing them alone. No, we need you to pilot the transport capsule. If you get hurt, we're stuck down here. It wasn't a valid excuse. They all knew fully well that the submarine was easy enough for any of the crew members to pilot. But Robert refused to risk any more lives and would use whatever reason he could come up with.

Captain, please. That's an order. Get out of here, now. He hesitantly agreed and started leaving. I'll join you then. I know nothing about this station or the sub, but at least I can assist you should something happen. I said, knowing he couldn't come up with any excuse to stop me. He reluctantly agreed,

and together we headed for the labs in sections see, worrying that Jennifer might be trapped behind the airlock, or worse. Drowning is such a horrible way to die. Once you realize there's no way to reach the surface, that you're trapped in a cold, dark tomb. Your throat simply closes up. No matter how hard you try to inhale, your body simply refuses, even as the agonizing pain of running out of air overpowers our natural instinct to breathe, you simply refuse to

give in to the overwhelming desire. It isn't until the body starts shutting down and the corners of your vision start to darken that you reach the breaking point and your brain decides to pull something in regardless of whether air is present or not. Suddenly ice, cold water flows in through your throat, unstoppably filling your lungs so desperate for air. It's a clumsy, painful way to go. and by the time the water has filled each alveoli, most are still conscious, just enough time to regret their decision to ever enter the ocean. I thought it was funny as we ran towards the airlock, that at least we wouldn't drown. Surely the worms would consume us, or the pressure from a collapsing station would instantly crush us. How did the heart get breached anyway? I asked as we got closer.

It's impossible. But I'm sure it's those fucking monsters, Robert said. The alarm had stopped alerting us about the Hull breach and was now recommending a station-wide evacuation. Warning, Hull-integrity severely compromised. All crew report a designated docking station. It said, How much time do we have?

Not enough. As we turned the corner at Section C, we saw Jennifer sitting against the wall on the wrong side of the airline. It took a moment to realise the horrors of her situation, as we saw her legs fuse with the flesh of the synchitium. They had started eating away at her lower body, digging their way through her flesh and rapidly replacing her organs with their own meat. Despite all this, she remained conscious. Jen, Robert said, the only word he could muster from the shock of what lay in front of his eyes. She slowly turned her head towards us, with her eyes red from hemorrhaging, as worms had consumed her insides.

Captain, is that you? She said, weekly. I'm here, Jen. I guess the sample wasn't dead after all. She joked, with a hoarse voice as she coughed up what could only be a mixture of blood and lung parankhamer. Maybe tell the doctor double-check these things in the future. He's here with me now, Robert explained. Oh, I'm so sorry, Jen, but I know there's nothing left to do.

I guess this is it. She coughed up, violently spewing out pieces of her lung and worms. Don't worry, Captain. It's not your fault that a monster from the abyss. crawled its way up to destroy us. She said, voice cracking as she writhed in agony. I looked over at Robert. He looked horrified, but couldn't take his eyes off her. It really hurts. Please eject the S-section, she cried. I just wanted to be over. Robert nodded, forgetting that she couldn't see him. I went over to the control panel.

It was fairly easy to use, especially after having witnessed Henry mess with it before. All I needed was the passcode. I thought it wouldn't be right to let Robert essentially execute her himself. I'll do it, I assured them. Rob, Jennifer said. Yes, don't let these fuckers get to the surface. Promise me that much. I promise.

Her abdomen started bulging. out. She screamed in pain as the worm started tearing open her flesh. Captain, the code, I asked. He told me the numbers. I input them without hesitating. Years of watching people suffer a prolonged death, knowing that we could do nothing but pointlessly extend their lives, could desensitized me to pulling the plug. Immediately, hatches opened up on the walls, an alarm sounded as water started pouring in, but since the hull had already been partially breached, they quickly collapsed in on themselves. Within a few seconds, Jennifer had died. Let's get out of here, Robert said. We ran back towards the central area.

We had to traverse the entire station to get towards Section A. It was the only remaining escape, but as we got to the offices, we could hear something moving within the walls, knocking their way through the pipes. The pumps, Robert yelled, they're getting in through the fucking pumps. Talos's pumps were ancient machinery compared to the rest of the station.

As the dome was inserted, they needed to move tons of water outside against the immense pressure. But after finishing the station, they'd been long forgotten, left inside the walls while they installed more permanent solutions. Before we could react,

the walls broke open, and the synchitium poured itself through the holes, making the shape of malformed flesh, extending rapidly alongside the walls. We were cut off from our only escape, with only the office available as temporary refuge from the oncoming swarm of worms and flow of flesh, but our safe haven would quickly become just another prison

to extend our survival. It won't hold them for long, Robert said. What now? Robert went straight for his desk, pulling out a pistol from the top drawer. You brought a gun to the bottom of the ocean? I asked. You didn't? He shot back. Never know when you might have to quell a mutiny. He laughed nervously.

He could tell I wasn't amused. We both knew a gun wouldn't slow them down significantly, but any help was welcome. He continued to rummish through the closets in the room, eventually putting out two unused hazmat suits just like the one I'd used while inspecting Mike it kept you safe inside the airlock the worms couldn't penetrate the suit right Robert asked with pleading eyes

look they breached the EPM suit metal I don't think these will make a big difference might slow them down but that's it I said it's our best shot The worms are starting to pile up on the door, forming a contracting mesh, slightly cracking the glass. It's now or never. James better have the damn sub ready to go, Robert said, as we got into the suits. He fired a shot, not at the door, but at the tempered glass wall beside it, shattering it into a million cubical pieces as we jump through. I stumbled to the ground, a few worms getting.

onto my hand as I stood back up. Robert pulled them off me and shoved me forward. We spurted for the entrance to Section A. We were far faster than the worms, but they'd formed a mesh covering most of the ceiling and dropped down on top of us for each step we took. Another hole in the wall burst open directly above the airlock towards Section A, causing another slump of meat to land in front of the door. "'Shit!' Robert yelled as he instinctively pulled his weapon and fired at the mass on the floor. I froze in place as the worms disintegrated from the bullet's impact, reforming, hastily crawling towards us. I tried to turn away and run, but I didn't react in time.

To my surprise, the worms completely ignored my presence and headed straight for Robert, pouring onto him from all directions, pulling him to the ground. He screamed in agony as they formed around his limbs, making him unable to fight back. I hurried towards him and tried to pull them off, but for each worm I removed, a hundred others joined in. Within seconds, they managed to tear a hole at the armpit region of his suit. They immediately wriggled themselves in through the hole. Desperately tried to pull him up, but he shoved me away as he realised there wasn't any hope left for him. Get out of here, dog.

He gargled as blood started to fill his lungs. I didn't even hesitate. Shamefully, I ran for my life while the synchium was too distracted by consuming Roberts. No matter what I had done, he was already dead. The hallways narrowed drastically as I once more returned to Section A. I frantically tried to input the code to close the airlocks. It took me two attempts with shape. cheeky fingers to get the correct code. But within a second the door sealed, and I was once

more separated from the abomination on the other side. I'm so sorry, Robert. I whispered to myself. The central dome finally gave in under the pressure, massive streams of water quickly collapsing the ceiling. The station fell apart, and the central power was annihilated under the flood. Plunged into darkness and silence, I ventured further towards the docking station. Each section of TALS supposedly had their own backup generator, but it hadn't activated yet,

making it hard to navigate through the narrow labyrinth of hallways. James, can you hear me? I called, my voice echoing endlessly. I bumped my head as I saw a light appearing in the distance. James came running towards me, holding a flashlight.

Doc, he's still with us, thank God, he said. His joy quickly fleeting as he realized I had come alone. What happened? Where's Jen and the captain? I just shook my head in response. No worse could convey what had happened in the dome, and their absence proved enough about their unfortunate outcome of our futile escape attempt. No time to worry about that now.

We need to get out of here. The capsule's just about ready to leave for the surface. We only need Henry to figure out how to get the power back. When we arrived at the docking station, I was relieved by the increase in ceiling height, if ever so slightly. Henry was busy at work on the control panel, trying to figure out what had cut the power from the backup generator. Abbey's standing behind him with a flashlight. God damn it, he yelled. Something has torn away the backup generator.

Not sure how, but I'm sure I know what. He sighed. Between the lack of power and the damaged hull. The sub-cant release from the station. We're stranded here. None of us spoke a word, trapped in a tin-can 20,000 feet below the surface with no transport. After what felt like an eternity, Henry finally broke the silence.

Well, do you have any ideas then, genius? Abby asked. Henry sighed. As a matter of fact, I do. He walked into the capsule and started messing around with the electronics, eventually pulling off one of the panels. There are three batteries powering this up, and as I see it, I could take one out.

He should still have enough power to get you all to the surface. Us, James asked. I need to connect this battery to the airlock. He continued, as he pulled one of them out from the capsule. Then I'll override the door. It'll blow open from the pressure. and the resorting wave of water should forcefully eject the sun.

What about you? Abby asked. Well, someone has to stay behind to follow through on this plan. Let me do it then. James interjected. No, you idiot. One wrong connection and the door fries locking forever. I'm the only one with the expertise. There has to be another way.

There isn't. Trust me. James and I looked at each other, both wanting to speak up, but neither able to come up with an alternative solution. Henry went back into the transport capsule, sealed the panel shut again. Yeah, I wish you were all smarter. Maybe one of you could have stayed behind, he said as sarcastically as ever, but for the first time with the slightest smirk on his face. Thank you, I said. yeah well time for you to go he said as he shut the door to the capsule we watched as henry walked away for the last time ready to face his fate an asshole to the bitter end but one with a kind heart like his other parish crewmates he would forever remain at the ocean basin never again witnessing sunlight time went on forever while we waited for a wave of water that might just as lightly crush us in an instant.

But with a ton of luck, we'd be ejected out from the station, and from there we could reach the surface. It would be the most violent take-off in the station's history, but also the last. Minutes later, we heard the sound of the airlock opening, before shattering to pieces under the immense pressure of exploding water and sink it your flesh. Seconds later, the wave hit us,

and we shot out. from Tanos, the hallway behind us falling apart as we did. It hit us hard and roughed us up a bit, but we survived. James took control of the vessel and didn't hesitate to start ascending towards the surface. Abbey and I stared out the window. On the other side we could see the utterly crushed remains of Tanos, dimly illuminated by the light still powered up by the generators at Section C, which had been completely covered by the flesh of the sea. in Kitium. The thousands of corpses that previously littered the ocean floor had been cleaned up and were now a part of the ever-growing monster from the abyss. A wave of relief washed over me,

with my heart calming down for each foot of our ascension. I no longer felt the need to constantly look out of the window. The world outside was dark, and whatever life once remained down there had been consumed alongside my longing for the ocean. Once we reached a depth of 5,000 feet in the middle of the midnight zone, we managed to establish contact with the USS Orion and called for an emergency evacuation. They were quite a distance away, but by the time we'd reached the surface, they'd pick us up, albeit curious as to what had happened in the depths. At 3,000 feet, the first rays of daylight greeted us with the warmth of the sun. The ocean started filling up with peaceful life, fish thriving in the waters.

completely ignorant to the horrors that existed directly below them. The vast darkness turned to a calming blue, and for the first time since being hired for this mission, I felt safe. Before long, we breached the surface, and were greeted by a team wearing hazmat suits as we boarded the ship. We'd been unable to alert them to the situation. All they knew was that a potential contagion existed in the depths,

one we could have brought back with us, so understandably they locked us up in the sick bay, isolated from the rest of the crew. For 72 hours, they prodded us, taking multiple blood samples, even a CSF probe. After they all returned normal, and no sign of sickness was apparent,

they led us into more comfortable living arrangements, as we set for sure. After being released from the sick bay, I hardly saw James and Abbey, They spent their time in their rooms, only coming out for the occasional interview. Headquarters were incredibly curious as to how a state-of-the-art installation suddenly collapsed, as we had absolutely no proof of the events that had transpired. They needed someone to blame, but as a part of the CDC and not the original Talos crew,

I was safe from prosecution. All that was required of me was to sign a non-disclosure agreement. when I'm breaking now to warn you about the horrors of the abyss. We know more about what exists in our outer space than we do about life in our oceans, and that's how it should remain forever. These creatures, the synchitium, can't be killed. As long as one single cell remains, it will be enough to restart their hides, and I fear that with the consumption of Taurus,

They've learned about life on the surface. Now that I'm posting this, I'm heading for the centre of disease control. I can feel them wriggling inside my chest as I type this, ready to burst out at any moment. I guess the suit didn't protect me after all. I hope James and Abby are safe, that they get a second chance at living a happy life. I'm so, so sorry. The danger from the deep, within a thick walled sphere of steel eight feet in diameter, with crystal clear fused squartz windows,

they crouched an alert young scientist, George Abbott. The sphere rested on the primeval muck and slime at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, one mile beneath the surface. Beam from his 200-watt searchlight, which shot out through one of his three windows into the dark blue depths beyond, seemed faint indeed. yet it served to illuminate anything which crossed it or on which it fell. For a considerable length of time since his descent to the ocean floor,

young Abbott clung to one of the thick windows of his bathersphere, absorbed by the marine life outside. Slender small fish with stereoscopic eyes darted in and out with a beam of light. Swimming snails floated by, carrying their phosphorescent lanterns. Paper-thin transparent crustaceous. swam into view, followed by a few white shrimps, pale as ghosts. Then a mist of tiny fish swept across his field of vision. Nabbert cupped his face in his hands and stared out.

The incongruous thought flashed across his mind that, thus he'd often sat by the window of his club in New York and gazed out at the passing motor traffic. His searchlight cut a sharp sway through the blue mark. More than once he thought he saw large, moving fish. light forms far away. He speeded up the generator, he called into his phone, and immediately the shaft of light brightened. He set about trying to focus upon one of those dim, elusive shapes which had so intrigued him.

But suddenly, the searchlight went out. Intent on repairing the apparatus as rapidly as possible, Abbott snapped the button switch, which ought to have illuminated the interior of his diving sphere, but the lights did. not go on. Then he noticed that the electric fan on which he depended to keep his air supply properly mixed had stopped. He spoke into the telephone transmitter, which hung in front of his mouth. I, um, there up on the boat, my electric power was cut off. I'm down here with my fan stopped and my heat cut off. Oise me up and I'll be quick about it. Okay, sir. As the young man waited for the winch to get underway on the boat a mile above him, he pulled out his electric pocket

flashlight and sent its feeble ray out through its quartz glass window into the dim royal purple depths beyond, in one last attempt to get a look at those mysterious fish shapes which had so intrigued him. And then he saw one of them distinctly. Evidently they'd swung closer when the glow of his searchlight had stopped, and so the sudden flash of his pocketlight had taken them by surprise. For As he stabbed it on, he caught an instant's glimpse of a grinning fish face pressed close against the outside of his thick window pane, as though trying to peer in at him. This fish face somewhat resembled the head of a shark, except that the mouth was a bit smaller and not quite so leeringly brutal, and the forehead was rather high and domed. But what most attracted Abbott's attention, the brief instant before the startled fish whisk away in a swirl of phosphorescent foam, was the fact that, from beneath each of the two petrel fins,

there protruded what appeared to be a skinny human arm, terminating in three fingers and a thumb. And then the fish was gone, and Abbott snapped off his little light. The diving sphere quivered as the hoisting cable torrent. But suddenly the sphere settled back to the bottom of the sea with a jarring thud. The cable's parted, sir. spoke a frantic voice in his earphones. For a moment, George Abbott sat stunned with horror,

and his mind began to race, like a squirrel in a cage seeking some way of escape. Well, perhaps he could manage to unscrew the 400-pound trap-door at the top of the sphere and shoot to the surface with the bubbling out of the confined air. But his scientifically trained mind made some rapid calculations which showed him this was absurd. At the depth of a mile,

the pressure is roughly 156 atmospheres, that is to say, 156 times the air pressure at the surface of the earth. And the moment that his sphere was open to this pressure, he'd be blown back inwardly away from the manhole, and the air inside his sphere would suddenly be compressed only one 156th of its former volume. Not only would this pressure be sufficient to squash you,

him into a mangled pulp, but also the sudden compression of the air inside the sphere would generate enough heat to fry that mangled pump to a crisp cinder almost instantly. As George Abbott came to a full realization of the horror of these facts, he recoiled from the trapdoor as though it were charged with death. For heaven's sakes, do something, he shrieked in agony into the transmitter. Courage, sir, came back the reply. We're rigging up, but grappled just as fast. as we can. Long before your oxygen gives out, we shall slide it down to you along the telephone line, which is the only remaining connection between us. When it settles about your sphere,

you can see its hooks outside your window by the light of your pocket flash. Let us know, and we'll trip the grapple and haul you up. Thank you, replied the young man. He was calm now, but it was an enforced and numb kind of calmness. Mechanically, he throttled down his oxygen supply, so as to make it last longer. Mechanically, he took out his notebook and pencil and started to write down, in the dark, his experiences, but he was determined to leave a full account for posterity, even though he himself might perish. After setting down a categorical description of the successive partings of the electric light cable and the hoist cable, and his thoughts and feelings in that connection, he described in detail the shark with hands,

which he'd seen through the window of his sphere. He tried to be very explicit about this, for he realized that his account would probably be laid by everyone to the disordered imagination of his last dire moments. Being a true scientist, George Abbott wanted the world to believe him so that another sphere would be built and sent down to the ocean depths to find out more about these peculiar denizens of the deep.

And of course, no one would believe him, and this thought kept drumming in his ears. no one except Professor Osborne. Old Osborne would believe. George Abbott's mind flashed back to a conversation he'd had with the old professor, just before the oil interests had sent him on this exploring trip to discover the source of the large quantities of petroleum, which had begun to bubble up from the bottom of a certain section of the Pacific,

very near where Abbott was now. Osborne had said, as petroleum suggests, a gursa to me, What causes gushes? Human beings boring for oil to satisfy human needs. But, Professor, Abbott had objected, there can't be any human beings at the bottom of the sea. Why not? Professor Osborne had countered.

Life supposed to have originated spontaneously in the slime of the ocean depths. Therefore, that part of the Earth has a head start on us in the game of evolution. Why not this head start having been maintained right down to day? thus producing at the bottom of the sea a ray superior to anything upon the dry land but Abbott had objected further if so why haven't they come up to visit or conquer us and why haven't we ever found any trace of them well quite simple to explain the old professor had replied any creature who can live at the frightful pressures of the ocean depths could never survive a journey even halfway to the surface It would be like out trying to live in an almost perfect vacuum.

We should explode, and so would these denizens of the deep, if they tried to come up here. Even one of their dead bodies could not be brought to the surface in recognizable form. Well, contact with them will ever be possible, nor will they ever constitute a menace to anyone, for which we may thank the Lord. George Abbott now reviewed this conversation as he crouched in his diving sphere in the purple darkness of the marine. marine depths. Yes, old Osborne would believe him. The diary must be written for Osborne's eyes. Abbott sent another beam from his pocketlight suddenly out into the water, and this time he surprised several of the peculiar fish. These, like the first, had arms and hands and high intelligent foreheads. Then, suddenly Abbott laughed with a harsh laugh. Old Osborne had been wrong in one

namely in saying that the super race of the deep would never be a menace to anyone they were being a menace to george abbott right now for it was undoubtedly they who would cut his cables probably they were possessed of much the same scientific curiosity with regard to him as he was with regard to them and so they determined to secure him as a museum specimen the idea was a weird one he laughed again though mirthlessly "'What's the matter, sir?' came an anxious voice in his earphones. "'Hurry, that grapple,' was his reply. "'I found out what cut my cables. "'There are some very intelligent-looking fish down here, and I think they want me for—' "'An ominous click then sounded in his ears, followed by silence. "'Hello, hello there!' he shouted. "'Can you hear me up on the boat?'

But no answer came back. The line remained dead. The strange fish had cut George Abbott's last contact with the upper world. And the gravel hooks could never find him now, for there was now not even a telephone cable to guide them down to his sphere. The realization that he was hopelessly lost and that he hadn't got much longer to live came as a real relief to him

after the last few moments of frantic uncertainty. hoping that his fear would eventually be found, even though too late to do him any good. He set assiduously to work jotting down all the details which he could remember of those strange denizens of the deep, the man-handed sharks, which he was now firmly convinced were the cause of his present predicament. He stared out through one of his windows into the brilliant blue darkness, but did not turn on his flashlight. How near were those enemies of his, he wondered. The presence of those menacing manshots just outside the four-inch-thick steel shell,

which withstood a ton of pressure for each square inch of its surface, began to obsess young abbots. What were they doing out there in the watery blue midnight? Perhaps, having secured his sphere as a scientific specimen, they were already preparing to cut into it so as to see what was inside. But these fish could cut through four inches of steel was not so improbably. as it sounded. For had they not already succeeded in severing a rubber cable an inch and a half thick,

containing two heavy copper wires, and also two inches of the finest non-kinking steel rope? The young scientist flashed his pocket torch out through the thick quartz pane, but his enemies were nowhere in sight. Then he fell to calculating his oxygen supply. His normal consumption was about half a quart per minute, at which rate his two tanks would be good for 36 hours. His chemical racks contained enough soda lime to absorb the excess carbon dioxide,

enough calcium chloride to keep down the humidity, and enough charcoal to sweeten the body odours for much more than that period. For a moment, I thought of these facts encouraged him. He'd been down less than two hours, and perhaps the boat above him could affect his rescue in the more than 34 hours which remained. but then he realized that he'd failed to take into consideration the near freezing temperature of the ocean depths this temperature he knew to be in the neighbourhood of 39 degrees Fahrenheit

even though no thermometer hung outside his window as non could withstand the frightful pressures at the bottom of the sea for it's one of those remarkable facts of inductive science that man has been able to figure out a priori that the temperature at all deep points of the ocean, tropic as well as Arctic, must always be stable at approximately 39 degrees. Abbott was clad only in a light cotton sailor seat,

and now that the source of his heat had been cut off by the severing of his power lines, his prison was rapidly becoming unbearably chilly. His thick steel sphere constituted such a perfect transmitter of heat that he might almost as well have been actually swimming in water of 39 degrees temperature, so far as comfort was concerned. Abbott's emotions ran all the gamut from stupefaction through dull calmness, clear-headed thoughts, intense but aimless mental activity, nervousness, frenzy and insane delirium, and back to

stupefaction again. During one of his periods of calmness, he figured out what an almost total impossibility there was of the chance that his ship, one mile above him on the surface, could ever find his sphere with the grappling hooks and yet he prayed for that chance a single chance in a million sometimes does happen several hours now elapsed since the parting of the young scientist's cables it was bitterly cold inside the sphere in order to keep warm he had to exercise during his calm moments as systematically as his cramped quarters were permit during his frantic moments he got plenty of exercise automatically And of course, all this movement used up more than the normal amount of oxygen, so that he was forced to open the valves on his tanks to two or three times their normal flow. His span of further life was thereby cut to ten or twelve hours,

if indeed he could keep himself warm that long. Why didn't the people on the boat do something? He was just about to indulge in one of his frantic fits of despair when he heard or rather felt the two senses being strangely compromised, mingled in his present situation, a clank or thump upon the top of his bathysphere. Instantly, hope flooded him. Could it be that one chance in a million had actually happened, and that a grapple from the boat above had actually found him?

With feverish expectation, he pressed the button on his little electric pocket flashlight and sent its feeble beam out through one of the quartz glass windows into the blue-black depth beyond. No hooks in front of this window. He tried the others. No hooks there, either. But he did see plenty of the superhuman fish. Eighteen of them, he counted, in sight at one time. Also two huge snake-like creatures with crested backs and manned heads, veritable sea serpents.

As there was nothing the young man could do to assist in the grappling of his fear by his friends in the boat above, he directed his time to jotting down a detailed description of these two new beasts and of their behaviour. One of the sharks appeared to be leading or driving them up to the bathysphere, and when they got close enough, Appet was surprised to see that they wore what appeared to be a harness. The clanking upon the bathysphere continued, and now the young man learned its cause. It was not the grapple hooks from his ship, but chains, chains which the man, armed sharks were wrapping around the bathersphere. Two more of the harnessed sea serpent swam into view and these two were hitched to a flat cart, an actual cart with wheels. The chains

were attached to the harness of the original two beasts while they swam upward and disappeared from view and the sphere slowly rose from the murky bottom of the sea to be lowered again squarely on top of the cart. The cart jerked forward. and a journey over the ocean floor began. Then the little pocket torch dimmed to a dull red glow, and the scene outside gradually faded from view. Abbott switched off the now useless light and set to work with scientific precision

to record all of these unbelievable events. In his interest and his excitement, he'd forgotten the ever-increasing cold, but gradually, as he wrote, the frigidity of his surroundings was forced by his consciousness, He turned on more oxygen and exercised frantically. Meanwhile the cart, carrying his bathysphere, bumped along over an uneven road. From time to time, he tried his almost exhausted little light,

but its dim red beam was completely absorbed by the blue of the ocean depths, and he could make out nothing except two bulking, indistinct shapes, writhing on ahead of him. Finally, even this degree of visibility failed. and he could see absolutely nothing outside. He was now so chilled and numb that he could no longer write. So with the last effort, he noted down that fact and then put the book away in its rack.

He began to feel drowsy, rousing himself, he turned on more oxygen. The effect was exhilaration and a feeling of silly joy. He began to babble drunkenly to himself. His head swam, his mind was in a daze. Well, it seemed like hours later when he finally awoke. Ahead of him in the distance there was a dim, pale blue light, against which there could be seen in silhouette the forms of the two serpentine steeds steeds and their fish-light drivers.

Abbott's hands and feet were completely numb now, but his head was clear. As they drew nearer to the light, it gradually took form, until it turned out to be the mouth of a cave, and the cart entered it. Down a long tunnel they progressed, the light getting brighter and brighter as they advanced. The colour of the light became a golden green. The rough stone walls of the tunnel could now be seen

and finally there appeared ahead. Two semi-circular doors swung back against the sides of the passage. Beyond these doors, the tunnel walls were smooth and exactly cylindrical, and on the ceiling there were many luminous tubes, which lit up the place as brightly as daylight. And then the cart came to a stop. The young scientist could see now with surprising distinctness, his captors,

and their serpentine steeds, and even the details of the chains and the harness. He tried to pick up his diary, so as to jot down some points which he'd there too far missed, but his hands were too numb. But at least he could keep on observing, and so he glued his eyes to the third, it quartz window pane once more.

A short distance ahead in the passage there was another pair of doors. Presently these swung open and the cavalcade moved forward. Five or six successive pairs of doors were passed in this manner and then the sea serpents began to thrash about and become almost unmanageable. It was evident that some change not to their liking had taken place in their surroundings. At last as one of the portals swung open, young abbot saw what a bit of appeared to be four deep-sea diving suits. Could these suits contain human beings?

And if so, who? It seemed incredible for no diving suit had ever been devised in which a man could descend to such a depth, a depth of one mile and live. These four figures, whatever they were, came stolidly forward and took charge of the cart. One of the sharks swam up to them and appeared to talk to them with its hands.

Then the sharks unhitched the two sea serpents and led them to the rear, and Abbott saw them no more. The four divers picked up the chains, and slowly towed the cart forward, their clumsy, ponderous movements contrasting markedly with the swift and sure swishings which had characterised the man-sharks and their snake-like steeds. Several more pairs of doors were passed, and then there met them four figures in less cumbersome diving suits, like those ordinarily used by men just below the surface of the sea. One of the deep-sea divers then pressed his face close to the outside of one of the windows of the bathysphere, as though to take a look inside. But the four newcomers waved him

away and hurriedly picked up the chains. Nevertheless, in that brief instant, Abbott had seen within the headpiece of the diver what appeared to be a bearded human face. Several more pairs of doors were passed. The four deep-sea divers floundering along the sea-divers floundering along the side beside the cart quite evidently having more and more difficulty of locomotion as each successive doorway was passed until finally they lay down and were left behind at last the procession entered a section of tunnel which was square instead of circular and in which there was a wide shelf along one side about three feet above the floor the four divers then dropped the chains and one by one took a look at Abbott through his window.

And he, at the same time, took a most interested look at them. They had unmistakably human faces. Oh, he must be dreaming. For even if Osborne was right about his supposed super race at the bottom of the sea, this race could not be human, for the pressures here would be entirely too great. No human being could possibly stand 2,000 pounds per square inch. Having satisfied their curiosity, the four divers pulled themselves up onto the shelf and sat there in a row with their legs hanging over.

But glanced upward at the ceiling lights, but these have become strangely blurred. There seemed to be an opaque barrier above him, and his barriers seemed to be slowly descending. The lights blurred out completely, and were replaced by a diffused illumination over the entire ripply barrier. When it dawned on the young man that this descending sheet of silver was the surface of the water. He was in a lock, and the water was being pumped out. The surface settled about the helmets of the divers, and their helmets disappeared, and their shoulders and the rest of them. At last it reached the level of Abbott's window.

The divers could be seen again, and among them on the shelf there stood a half-dozen naked, bearded men, clad only in loincloths. They'd evidently entered the lock while the water was subsiding. These men unbuckled the helmets of the divers and helped them out, and then splashed down into the water and peered in through the windows of the bathersphere.

Presently some of them left through a door at the end of the platform, but soon reappeared with staging, which they set up around the sphere. Then, climbing on top, they got to work on the manhole cover. As George Abbott realised their purpose, he became frantic. Although these men appear to be human, just like himself, his scientifically trained mind told him

that they must be of some very special amatomical structure in order to be able to withstand the immense pressures at the bottom of the Pacific. It was all right for them to be out there, but it would be fatal to him. And then the heavy circular door above him began to slowly revolve. This was terrible.

In a moment the crushing pressures of the depths who comes seeping in. Rising unsteadily upon his knees, the young man tried with his fingers to resist the rotation of the door, but he continued to turn. Yet no pressure could be felt. The door became completely unscrued. It was pried up and slid off the top of the bathysphere to crash upon the floor outside. Inquisitive bearded faces peered down through the hole. Young Abbott slumped to the whole bottom of the sphere and stare back at them. Oh, he's safe. He'd incredibly been saved. These were real, people. The air was real. He must therefore be on the surface of the earth, instead of at the bottom of the Pacific as he'd imagined. And then, with a sigh of relief,

he fainted. When he came to his senses again, he was lying in a bed in a small room. Bending over him was the sweetest, feminine face that he'd ever seen. The girl seen. He to about twenty years of age, and she was clad in a clinging robe of some filmy green substance. Her hair was honey-brown, short and curly, and her forehead high and intelligent. Her eyes, an indescribable shade of deep violet, were matchlessly set off by her ivory skin. The young man smiled up at her, and she smiled back. Thus far it had not occurred to him to wonder where he was, or why. No recollection of his recent strange adventures came to him.

him. To him, this was an exotic dream, from which he did not care to awake. She spoke, her words were unintelligible, and unlike any language which George Abbott knew or had even heard, and he was an accomplished linguist in addition to his other attainments. Her words were not all that was strange about her speech, for the very tones of her voice sounded completely unhuman, although not displeasing. Her talk is her. Her talk is a little human. Her talk had a metallic ring to it, like the brassy blare of temple gongs, and yet was so smooth and subdued as to be sweeter than any sound that the young scientist had ever heard before. Oh, beautiful dream fairy, replied the enraptured young man.

I haven't the slightest idea what you're saying, but you keep right on. I like it. His own voice sounded crass and rude, compared to hers. At his first word, she gave a start of surprise, but thereafter the sound did not appear, to grate on her ears. Then one of the bearded men in loincloth centres, and he and the girl talked together, quite evidently about their patient. The man's voice had the same strange metallic quality to it as that of the girl,

but was deeper, so it boomed with the rich notes of a bell. At the sight of the man, young Abbott's memory swept back, and he remembered the adventure of his diving sphere, and its capture one mile down, where the strange sharkfish with human hands and arms. But how he'd reached the surface of the earth again he could not figure out, nor did he particularly care. The strange man withdrew, and the girl sat down beside the bed and smiled at Abbott.

He smiled back at her. Presently another girl entered and called. Millie! The girl beside the bed started, and looking up, asked some question to which the other replied. the newcomer brought in some strange warm food in a covered dish and then withdrew the first girl proceeded to feed her patient after the meal which tasted unlike anything which the young man had ever eaten before the beautiful nurse again essayed conversation with him she seemed perplexed and a bit frightened that he could not understand her words somehow the young man sensed that this girl had never heard any language other than her own and she didn't even know that other languages existed. Strengthened by his food, he determined to set about learning her language as soon as possible. So he pointed at her and asked, Millie? She nodded and spoke some word which he took

for, yes. Then he pointed to himself and said, George. She understood, but the word was a difficult one for her to duplicate in the metallic tongue of her people. She made several attempts until he laughingly spoke her word for yes. Then he pointed to other objects about the room. She gave him the names of these, but he could easily see that she felt that if he didn't know the names for all these common things, there must be something that matter with him.

He wondered how he could make her understand that there were other languages in the world than her own. Then he remembered the sharks with their hands and what he'd taken to be their sign language. Perhaps Millie at least knew of the existence of this sign language. This would afford a parallel, for if she realized that there were two languages in the world, might there not be three? So Abbott made some meaningless signs with his fingers,

and Millie quite evidently was accustomed to this kind of talk, but she was further perplexed to find that George talked gibberish with his hands as well as with his mouth. She made some signs with her hands and said something orally. Young Abbott instantly pointed to her mouth and held up one finger, and to her hands and held up two. Then to his own mouth and held up three, at the same time speaking a sentence of English. Instantly she caught on. There were three languages in the world, and thereafter she no longer regarded him as crazy.

For several hours she taught him, then another meal was brought, after which she left him, and the lights went out. He awakened, feeling thoroughly rested and well. The lights were on, and Millie was beside him. He asked for his clothes, and they were brought. brought in. Millie withdrew when he put them on. After breakfast, which they ate together, one of the bearded men came and led him out

through a number of winding corridors into a larger room, in which there was a closed, spherical glass tank about ten feet in diameter, containing one of the human sharks. Around the tank stood five of the bearded men. One of them proceeded to address Abbott, but of course the young American could not make out what he was saying.

This apparent lack of intelligence seemed to exasperate the man, and finally he turned toward the tank, and engaged in the sign-language conference with the fish, then turned back to Abbott again and spoke to him very sternly. But Abbott shook his head and replied, Millie, bring Millie! One of the other men flashed a look of triumph at their leader and laughed. Yes, he added, bring Millie.

The leader scowled at him, and some words were interchanged, but it ended in Millie being sent for. She apparently explained the situation to the satisfaction of the fish, to the intense glee of the man who'd sent for her, and to the rather complete discomfiture of the leader of the five. Abbott later learned that the leader's name was Thig, and that the name of the gleeful man was Dolve. The reception over. Millie led Abbott back to his room. There ensued many days, very pleasant days, of language instruction from Millie. Dauphin Thig and others of the five came frequently to note his progress and to talk with him and ask him questions. A sitting-room was provided for him, adjoining his sleeping quarters, and Millie occupied quarters nearby.

Within a week he'd mastered enough of the language of these people, for their strange history began to be intelligible to him, in spite of the fact that the air here was at merely atmospheric pressure, this place was nevertheless one mile beneath the surface of the Pacific. Millie and her people lived in a city hollowed out of a reef of rocks, reinforced against the terrific weight of the water and filled with a laboratory made air. They'd never been to the surface of the sea. The fish with the human arms were their creators and their masters. Professor Osborne had been right. The fish were the human arms. The of the deep having a head start on the rest of the world had evolved to a perfectly unbelievable degree of intelligence. Centuries ago they built for themselves the exact analogue of George Abbott's

bathosphere and in it they had made much the same sort of exploring trips to the surface that he'd made down into the deeps. But their spheres have been constructed to keep in rather than to keep out great pressure. Their scientists had gathered a wealth of data as to conditions on the surface, and had even seen and studied human beings. But their insatiable scientific curiosity had led them to want to know more about the strange country above them and the strange persons who inhabited it. And so they set about breeding in their own laboratories, creatures which could be as like as possible to those whom they had observed on the surface.

Of course, this experiment necessitated their first setting up an air-filled partial vacuum, similar to that which surrounds the earth. But they had persisted. They had brought down samples of air from the surface of the sea, and it analysed and duplicated it on a large scale. Finally, through long years, they'd also directed and controlled the course of evolution

in their breederies, at first to be able to produce creatures which could live in air at low pressures, and then to evolve the descendants of those creatures into intelligent human beings. Some of the lower types of this evolutionary process, both in the direct line of descent of man and among the collateral offshoots, have been retained for food and other purposes. Abbott, with intense scientific interest, studied these specimens in the zoo of the underwater city where he was staying. Plans had been in progress for some time, among the fishfolk and their human subjects, to send an expedition to the surface.

and now the shark masters had fortunately been able to secure alive an actual specimen of the surface folk, namely George Abbott. The expedition was accordingly postponed until they could pump out of the young scientist all the information possible. Albert was naturally overjoyed at the prospect. This would not only get him out of here, but think what it would mean to science. The plans of the sharks were entirely peaceful. Furthermore, there were only about 200 of their laboratory. bred synthetic human beings, and so these could constitute no menace to mankind. Accordingly, he enthusiastically assured them that they could depend upon the hearty

cooperation of the scientists of the outer earth. During all his stay so far in this cave city, Abbott had been permitted to come in contact only with Millie, the members of the Committee of Five, and an occasional guard or laboratory assistance. It inspired of the absence of personal contacts with other members of this strange race, Abbott was constantly aware of a background of many people and tense activity, which kept the wheels of industry and domestic economy turning in this undersea city. Although the young man readily accustomed himself to the speech and food and customs of this strange race,

his personal modesty and neatness revolted at the loincloths and beards of the men, and so by special dispensation he was permitted to wear his sailor suit and to shave. Committee of Five, who constituted a sort of ruling body for the city, interviewed him at length, cross-examined him most skillfully and took copious notes. But there seemed to be a strange lack of common meeting ground between their minds and his, so that very often they were forced to call on Millie to act as an intermediary. The beautiful young girl seemed able to understand both George Abbott and the leaders of our own people with equal facility. A number of specially constructed submarines had already been built to,

carry the expedition to the surface. Before it came time to use them, Abbott tried to paint as glowing a picture as possible of life on earth, but he found it necessary to gloss over a great many things. How could he explain and justify war, liquor, crime, poverty, graft, and the other evils to which constant acquaintance has rendered the human race so calloused? He was unable to deceive the men of the deep. With their superintelligence, they relentlessly. unearthed from him all the salient facts, and as a result of their discoveries, their initial friendly feeling for the world of men rapidly developed into supreme contempt. But Abbott, on the other hand, developed a deep respect for them. Their chemistry and their electrical and mechanical devices

amazed and astounded him. They were even able to keep sun-time until the seasons by means of gyroscopes. age was measured much as it was on the surface. This fact was brought to Abbott's attention by the approach of Millie's 20th birthday. Strange to relate, she seemed to dread the approach of that anniversary and finally told Abbott the reason. It's the custom, she said,

when a girl or boy reaches 20, to give a very rigorous intelligence test. In fact, such a test is given on every birthday, but the one on the twentieth is the hardest. So far, I've just barely passed each test, which fact marks me a very low mentality indeed. And if I fail this time, they'll kill me, so as to make room for others who have a better right to live.

Impossible! exclaimed the young man indignantly. Why, you have a better mind than those of many of the leading scientists of the outer world? All the same, she gloomily replied. It is way below standard for down here. On the day of the test, he did his best to cheer her up. Dolph also came. She seemed to be an especial protege of his,

and gave her his encouragement. He'd been coaching her heavily for the examinations for some time previous. But later in the day, she returned in tears to report to Abbott that she had failed, and had only 24 hours to live. before he realized what he was doing Abbott had seized her in his arms and was pouring out to her a love which up to that moment he had not realized existed

finally her sobbing ceased and she smiled through her tears George dear she said it is worth dying to know that you care for me like this well I won't let them kill you asserted the young man belligerently they owe me something for the assistance which I am to give them on their expedition.

I should demand your life as the price of my cooperation. Besides, you're the only one of all your people who has brains enough to understand what I tell them about the outer earth. It's they who are weak-minded, not you. But she sadly shook her head.

It would never do for you to sponsor me, she said, for it would alienate my one friend in power, Dolph. He loves me. Don't scow. For I do not love him. him, but for the safety of both of us, we must not let him know of our love. Not yet. Yet, exclaimed Abbott, when you have less than one day to live. You've given me hope,

the girl replied, and also an idea. Dolph promised to appeal to the other five members. I've just thought of a good ground for his appeal, namely my ability to translate your clumsy description into a form suited to the high intelligence of our superiors. "'Clumsy!' exclaimed the young man, a bit nettled. "'Pardon me, dear. I'm sorry,' she said contritely. "'I didn't mean to let his slip, and now I must rush to Dolph and tell him my idea.' "'Well, don't let him make love to you, though,' admonished Abbott, gloomily. She kissed him lightly, and then fled.

A half hour later she was back, all smiles. The idea had gone across big. Dolph, as the leader of the projected expedition, had demanded that Millie be brought along as a liaison officer between them and their guide, and the other four committee men had reluctantly exceeded. The execution was accordingly indefinitely postponed. The young couple spent the evening

making happy plans for their life together on the outer earth. For as soon as they should arrive in America, Dolph would have no further hold over them. The next day the committee of five announced that, for a change, they were going to give George Abbott an intelligence test. He'd represented himself as being one of the scientists of the outer earth. Accordingly, they could gauge the calibre of his fellow countrymen by determining his IQ. Millie was quite agitated when this program was announced, but the ordeal had no terrors for George Abbott. He'd taken many such tests on Earth and passed them easily.

And so he appeared before the committee of five with a rather cocky air. He had yet to see an intelligent test too tricky for him to eat alive. Starting with something easy, suggested Dolph. Perhaps they don't have tests on the outer earth. You know, one gains a certain facility by practice. I merely didn't, in spite of all the practicing which you gave her, maliciously remarked Thig. and Dolph glowed at him. What is the cube route of 378?

Suddenly asked one of the other members of the committee. Oh, we're a little over seven, hazarded Abbott. Come, come, boom thick. Give it to us exactly. Well, 7.2, I guess. Don't guess. Give it exact to four decimal places. in my head asked abbott incredulously certainly replied thig even a char could do that we're giving you easy questions to start with start him on square root suggested dulf kindly remember he isn't used to these tests like our people are

so they tried him with square roots in which he turned out to be equally dumb and abstract questions of physics and chemistry he did better on, but the actual quantitative problems, which they expected him to solve in his head, stumped him completely. Then they asked him about education on earth, and the qualifications for becoming a scientist, and who were the leaders in his field, and what degrees did they hold, and what one had to do to get those degrees, and so on. Finally, they dismissed him, and Dolf then sent for Millie. She was gone about an hour, and returned to Abbott, wide-eyed and incredulous. Oh, George, she said, lowering her voice.

Dove tells me that your intelligence is below that of a five-year-old child. Perhaps that's why you and I get along so well together. We're both morons. Well, he started to protest, but she silenced him with a gesture and hurried on. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I want you to know that your examination today has resulted in a complete change in their plans for the expedition. to the surface. They've consulted with the leaders of our masters, and they agree with them. And she was plainly agitated.

"'What is it, dear?' asked Abbott, with ominous foreboding. Millie continued. Early during your test, when you demonstrated that you couldn't do the very simplest mathematical problems in your head, they began to doubt your boastings that you're a scientist. But you were so ingenious in your answers about conditions. on the surface, that finally their faith in your honesty returned. If you're a scientist among men, as they now believe, and the average run of your people must be mere animals, this explains what has puzzled them before, namely how the people

of earth tolerate poverty and unemployment and crime, and disease in war. Well, and so a mere handful of our people, by purely peaceful means, could easily make themselves the rulers of the earth. Probably this would all be for the best, but somehow my feelings tell me that it's not. I know only too well what it is to be an inferior among intelligent beings, so will not your people be happier, left alone to their stupidity, just as I would be? George Abbott was crushed. This frank acceptance by Millie of the alleged fact that he was a mere moron was most humiliating and quickly he realized what a real menace of the earth was this contemplated invasion from the depths all that was worst in the world above would taint these intellectual giants of the

undersea they would rise to supremacy and then would become rapacious tyrants over those whom they would regard as being no more than animals well he'd witnessed jealousies among them down below might not these jealousies flame into huge wars when translated to the world above. Giants striving for mastery using the human cattle as cannon fodder. He painted the girl a word picture of the horrible vision which he foresaw. The invasion must be stopped at all costs. He and Millie must pit their puny wits against these supermen. What could they do? As they were pondering this problem, a girl entered their sitting-room, the same who had brought Abbott's breakfast on its first day in the caves. Millie introduced George to the newcomer, whose name was Romail.

Well, Ramail appeared so woe begone that the young American ventured to inquire if she too had been having difficulty with one of her tests. But that was not the trouble, and hers was rather of the heart. About the same age as Millie, Ramail had recently passed her, 20th birthday test and hence was eligible to marry. So she and a young man named Harkin had requested the fishmasters to give them the requisite permission, but their overlords for some reason had peremptorially denied the request. Romail and Harkin were desolate. Young Abbott's sympathies were at once aroused. Can something be done? He started to ask, but Millie silenced him

with a warning glance. Of course not, she said. Who are we to question the judgment of our all-knowing masters? Rameel had really come to Millie just to pour her troubles into a friendly air, rather than because she hoped to get any helpful ideas. And so she had a good cry, and then finally left, somewhat comforted. George and Millie then took up again the problem of saving the outer earth from the threatened invasion. Millie suggested that they go peaceably with the expedition

and then warn the authorities of America at the first opportunity after their arrival. But Abbott pointed out this would merely result in their both being shut up in some insane asylum as no one would believe such a crazy story as theirs. The time for lights out arrived, without their thinking of any better idea. The next day Millie spent considerable time with Dolph and on her return, excitedly informed Abbott that he devolved a most diabolical plot. There were sufficient quantities of explosives in storage to blast a hole through the wall of the caves, letting in the sea and killing everyone in the city.

Dolph planned to set this off with a time fuse upon the departure of the expedition. Thus Thig and the people who were left behind, about two-thirds of the total population of the city, would be destroyed, and the fish would have no one to send after Dolph, his followers, to dictate to them on the upper earth. Relieved with the thraldom of the fish, Doff could make himself emperor of the world and rule over the human cattle, with milly at his side as empress, an alluring programme, well, from Dove's point of view anyway. I didn't expect such treason, even from Dolph, exclaimed the young American,

we must tell Thig. What good would that do? Remonstrated the girl. If you fail to convince Thig, Doff would make an end of us both. And if you convince Thig, it would mean the end of Dolph, whose influence is all that keeps me alive.

We must think of something else. Right, as always, replied Abbott. Then a growl came from the doorway. It was Dolph, his bearded face black with wrath. So, he sputtered, treachery, eh? He whistled twice, and two guards appeared. Take them to the prison, he raged, indicating Abbott and Millie. Our expedition will have to do without a guide.

I've learned enough of the American language to make a good start, and I guess I can pick up another guide when we reached the surface. Then, bending close to the frightened girl, he whispered, Oh, and another empress. The guards hustled them away and locked them up. As an added precaution, a sentinel was posted in front of each cell door. Abbott, he immediately got busy. Can you get word for me at once to thick?

He whispered to the man on guard. Perhaps, replied the individual, non-committally. Then tell him, said Abbott, that I have proof that Dolph is planning to destroy this city. behind him and never returned from the surface. The sentry became immediately agitated. So you know this, he exclaimed. How did it leak out? But through Millie, of course, and the guard on her cell is not a member of the expedition. Oh, curses, I must get word to Dolph and have that guard changed at once. And then he darted swiftly away. The young prisoner

was plunged into gloom. Now he'd gone and done it. Why hadn't he first made appropriate inquiries of his guard? A new guard appeared in front of the door. You were going on the expedition? asked Abbott. Yes, worse luck, replied the guard. The prisoner forgot his own gloom in his surprise at the gloominess of the other.

Don't you want to go? He exclaimed incredulously. No. Why not? "'What?' "'Do you know Romail?' asked the guard. "'Yes,' Abbott replied. "'Well, that's why.'

"'Oh, then you must be harkin,' exclaimed Abbott, with sudden understanding. "'Yes,' replied the other, Dolly. "'You're going on the expedition, and Romail is not.' "'Quite correct.' "'Say, um, look here,' exclaimed Abbott, and then he launched into the description of a plan which just that moment had occurred to him. For him, merely Romail and Harkin,

to make their getaway ahead of the expedition, in fact that very night, and to set off the time-fused before leaving. Turned out that Harkin knew where the explosives were planted and where the submarines were kept, and even how to operate them. He eagerly accepted the plan, and when next relieved his Sentinel,

he hurried away to inform Rameo. Three hours later he was back on post. Quickly he explained to his prisoner all about the workings of the submarines of the expedition. The lights out bell rang, and the city became dark, except for dim lights in the passageways. Harkin at once unlocked the door of Abbott's cell, and together the two young men sneak down the corridor to the cell where Millie was confined. Silently Harkin and Abbott sprung upon the guard and throttled him, then released Millie. There was no time for more than a few hurried words of explanation before the three of them left the prison

and made for the locks of the subterranean canal, picking up Ramail at a pre-appointed spot on the way. The canal locks were unguarded, as well as the storerooms of the submarines. Each of the rooms held two subs and could open onto the second lock and be separately flooded. The submarines were of steel as thick as Abbott's Bathurstphere. The shape was that of an elongated raindropes,

with fins. In the pointed tip of their tails were motors which could operate at any pressure. At the front end were quartz windows. In the top fin was an expanding device which could be filled with buoyant gas produced by chemicals when the craft neared the surface. Each submarine also contained a radio set, so tuned as to be capable of opening and closing the radio control gates of the locks. each would carry comfortably two or three persons having picked out two submarines and found them to be in order harkin sneaked back into the corridor to set off the time views leaving his three companions in the dark in the storeroom abut put a protecting arm around minnie while remail snuggled close to her other side their hearts were all racing madly with excitement and this was intensified when they heard harkin talking with someone just outside their door then Harkin returned unexpectedly. Something terrible has happened, he breathed. The explosives have been discovered and are gone.

One of the expedition manners just informed me. Someone must have gotten word to thig. Why, I did, interrupted Milly. I told my guard just before they came and changed him. Abbott groaned. Harkin continued hurriedly. So Dolph plans to leave at once. He's already rounding up his followers.

Come on, we must get out ahead of him. An uproar could be heard, drawing near in the corridor outside. Abbott opened the door and peered out, then shut it again and whispered. The two factions are fighting already. Then come on, exclaimed Harkin. As he spoke, he turned on the lights, wedge the door tight against its gaskets, and then through the switch, which started the water seeping into the store.

room. Then he led Romail hurriedly to one of the two submarines, while George and Millie rushed to the other. Heavy blows sounded against the storeroom door. The water rapidly rose about them, and the four friends crawled inside the two machines and clamped the lids tight. Then they waited for sufficient depth, so that they could get underway. The water rose above their bow windows, but suddenly, and inexplicably, it began to subside again. A man. Man waded by around the bow of Abbott's machine. They've crashed in the door, and they're pumping out the water again, exclaimed Abbott. We're trapped.

Not yet, grimly replied the girl at his sight. Can you work the radio door controls? Yes. Then quick, open the doors into the lock. He pressed a button, and ahead of them two gates swung inward, followed by a deluge of water. Come on, spoke the girl. full speed ahead, before the water gets too low. Abbott did so, now into the lock they spared, in the face of the surging current.

Then Abbott pushed another button to close the gates behind them. But the water continued to fall, and they grounded before they reached the end of the lock. Quite evidently the rush of the current had kept the doors from closing behind them. The city was being flooded through the broken door of the storeroom. But Abbott opened the next gate. and again they breasted the incoming torrents. This time, although the level continued to fall, their craft did not quite ground.

They must have got the gates shut behind us at last, he said, as he opened the next set and pressed on. And then he had an idea. Why not omit to close any further gates behind him? As a result, the sea pressure would eventually break down the inmost barriers and destroy the city as effectively as Dolph's bomb would have done. But he said nothing to Millie of this plan. She might wish to save her people.

Gate after gate they passed. This was too simple. A few more locks, and they'd be out in open water. The submarine of Harkin and Romero swept by, evidently to let George and Millie know their presence, and then drop behind again. But was it their two friends after all? Well, it might have been some enemy.

I couldn't be sure. this uncertainty cast a chill of apprehension over them which was immediately heightened by the sudden extinguishing of the over-air lights of the tunnel abbot pressed the radio button for the next set of locks but they didn't budge what can be the matter he asked frantically my people must have turned off the electric current milly replied the gates won't open without electricity to feed the motors we're trapped again for a moment they lay stunned by a realisation that their escape was blocked kiss me goodbye dear breathed milly this is the end as the young man reached over to take her in his arms the submarine was suddenly lifted up and spun backward end over end then tumbled and bumped along as though it were a chip on an angry mountain torrent stunned bruised and bleeding the american finally lost consciousness when he came to his senses again. His first words were,

Millie, where are you? My darling, breathed a voice at his sight. Are you all right? Yes, he replied. Where are we? What's happened? The entire system of locks must have crashed in and flooded the city, she said. Instantly, Abbott's mind grasped the explanation of this occurrence. They are leaving open so many gates behind them and made it impossible for the few remaining gates ahead to withstand the terrific

pressures of the ocean depths, and they'd crumpled. Well, he didn't tell Millie his part in this. She continued. I was pretty badly shaken up myself, but I've got this bolt going again, we're on our way out of the tunnel. See, I found out how to work our searchlight. He looked.

A broad beam of light from their bow illuminated the tunnel ahead of them. Presently another beam appeared, shooting by them from behind. "'Wahakin and Ramail!' exclaimed the girl. "'Then they're safe, too.' The tunnel walls grew rough, then disappeared. They were out in the open sea at last,

although still one mile beneath the surface. And in front of them was an angry, seething school of the man-sharks, clearly illuminated by the two rays of light. Behind the sharks were a score or more of serpentine steeds. The sharks saw the two submarines and charged, down upon them, but Millie, with great presence of mind, shut off her searchlight and swung sharply to the left. Up, up, up, urged the young man, so she turned the craft upward. On and on they went with no interference. Presently they turned the light on again, so as to see

what progress they were making. But they were making absolutely none. They were merely standing on their tail. They'd reached a height of such relatively low pressure that it took all the churning of their propeller just merely to counter at the great weight of their submarine. Abbott switched on their chemical gas supply, and as their top fin expanded into a balloon, they again began to rise. One thing, however, perplexed the young man. The water about him seemed jet black rather than blue. They must by now be close to the surface of the sea, where at least a twilight blue should be visible. Even at the one-mile depth in his bathesphere, the water had been brilliant, yet here, almost at the surface,

he could see absolutely nothing. He switched on the searchlight again to make sure that their window wasn't clouded over, but it wasn't. Then, suddenly, a rippling veil of pale silver appeared ahead in a blue, black sky and twinkling stars. They'd reached the surface, and it was night. He pointed out the stars to the girl at his side, then swung the nose of the submarine around and showed her the moon. Where next? George Abbott picked out his position by the stars and headed east, east across the Pacific, toward America. But soon he noticed that their little craft was dropping beneath the surface. He kept heading up more and more. He threw the lever for more and more chemical gas, and yet still they continued to sink.

Millie, he exclaimed, we've got to get out of here. She clutched him in fear, for to her the pressure of the open sea meant death, certain death. But he pushed her firmly away and unclamped the lid to the submarine. In another instant, he'd hauled her out and was battling his way to the surface,

while that little boat sunk slowly beneath them. Millie was an experienced swimmer, for the undersea folk enjoyed them. the privilege of a large indoor pool. As soon as she found that the open sea didn't kill her, she became calm. Side by side they floated in the moonlight. The sky began to pink in the east. Dawn came, the first dawn that Millie had ever seen. Suddenly she called George's attention to two bobbing heads some distance away in the path of the light that the rising sun made on the ocean. Harkin and Romail, he exclaimed. Long since they,

given them up for dead, but evidently fate had treated them in much the same way as themselves. And a moment later, his own salt-stung eyes noticed a long grey shape to one side. As the day brightened, Abbott suddenly noticed a large, bulking shape nearby. It was his own boat, the one which had lowered him into the depths in his bathersphere so many weeks and weeks ago. Evidently, it was still sticking around, grappling for his long dead body. "'Come on, dear,' he said, and side by side they swam over to it. He helped her up the ship's ladder. Then the ship's cook sleepily stuck his head out at the galley door.

"'Hi, Mike,' sang out George merrily to the astonished man. "'I've brought company for breakfast. "'Or there'll be two more when we can lower a boat.' "'And so once again we reach the end of tonight's podcast. "'My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories, and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong,

please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.