Robert pointed into the distance. "I, ahh, I think they went that way…but they were moving fast. And that sound...Before I fell to the floor, I saw them swim away. I know there is no basis for me understanding what or how these creatures think, but they looked completely terrified."

"They're seventy-feet long, what could possibly threaten them?"

Click, click, click.

The sound was distinct from those of the bio-whales and came in three second intervals.

Connelly held her breath, listening.

Click, click, click.

"You know what that is." Robert said.

Connelly looked into Robert's glassy eyes. "Echolocation," she said.

Robert nodded. "Something's out there—something big—and as long as we're in the open water, there is no place, and I mean no place, we can hide."

CHAPTER 19 -- DIVE

Regret wasn't an emotion that Connelly often felt. Her entire life, aside from her bouts with anxiety, read like a textbook example of how to make positive choices. But since joining the Europa mission, it seemed her decision-making abilities were lackluster at best. Thinking about getting involved with Peterson was her first mistake. The experiment gone awry involving the plant incubator was her second. Her third mistake now appeared to be going for a spin in the TES, the consequences of which she and Robert now faced.

The electric glow of the distant schools of fish faded around them, returning the water to its previous pitch black state. Even the sea floor seemed less radiant, as though the tiny creatures and plant life were attempting to draw less attention by dimming their luminosity.

Connelly's eyes shifted to the top of the sphere's interior. The red light, which allowed their eyes to fully adjust to low light while providing enough illumination to see by, glowed brightly in the darkness. They would be easy to see.

We're attracting the creature, Connelly thought.

Click, click, click.

The sound was loud and continuous, repeating every three seconds. The muscles on Connelly's face contracted and tightened with each click until she felt her head would burst, spewing her liquefied mind over the glass of the sphere.

"We need to turn the red light off!" Connelly shouted between clicks.

Click, click, click.

Connelly covered her ears with her hands.

Through the clicks she heard Robert's voice. He was shouting, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. All she could focus on was shutting off the damn light. Then maybe whatever was lurking in the darkness would leave them alone long enough to make a hasty retreat to the surface. Connelly moved toward the red light and prepared to remove the colored glass and extract the bulb. The plan was to perform each move during the three second intervals.

Why didn't we put a light switch in here for that bulb! she thought.

A click of echolocation rang through her hands and into her ears, but it also shook the sphere violently. The creature must be close. She had three seconds.