"I've had you almost completely to myself for years… I wouldn't change a thing." Robert waited for a response, but Connelly remained silent. Robert looked down at her. She wasn't breathing. Robert realized that, though he was still pulling in air, his head was spinning and the world was growing dark.

Time had run out.

Clank! As Robert eased into unconsciousness, a loud metal on metal boom filled his ears. Darkness consumed him. Boom! Boom! The sound persisted. Robert's head lulled back and his arms fell away from Connelly's body. He opened his eyes for one last look at their tomb. He saw the strangest thing. Willard was lying on top of the sphere, banging on the exterior and shouting.

What a strange thing to dream of before I die, Robert thought.

Then, along with the banging, came Willard's voice, muffled but screaming. Robert slowly comprehended the words. "Robert! I'm here! Up here!"

Robert returned his gaze to the ceiling of the sphere. Willard looked frantic. With stabbing fingers, Willard pointed towards the control console. He shouted again, this time as loud as he could. "Retract the fins! Blow the ballast tanks!"

The words oozed into Robert's mind as he became acutely aware of a fire burning in his lungs. It felt as though tiny creatures with cheese graters were shredding his chest. But the words finally made sense.

Robert pushed Connelly aside and she slumped to the floor. His muscles ripped with pain from the effort. He stumbled forward and clasped onto the console with both arms. He looked at the screen—a blur of color.

Putting all his effort into focusing his eyes, Robert felt his head spin, threatening to rend him unconscious. Everything became clear for just a moment. Robert worked both arms in separate directions, pushing buttons and working keys. The entire motion lasted ten seconds. Then he'd had enough.

Robert's head fell forward, cracking against the console. He slid back and collapsed on the sphere's floor. His chest, like Connelly's was no longer rose and fell. They lay together, twisted on the floor

Dead.

THE DEN

CHAPTER 23 -- AWAKENING

A volcano of vomit erupted from Connelly's mouth as she regained consciousness. Her vision flashed in and out like a slideshow. The TES consoles blinked brightly at her. Willard stood over her, his face, free from his helmet, twisted with fear and relief. Robert was there too, leaning over her with a crooked, imperfect grin.

Connelly sat up with some help from Robert. "Did we get drunk?" she said. "Because I have the worst hangover." She wiped her mouth with her suit sleeve.

"Must have mixed your hard liquor and beer," Willard said with a grin.

Connelly grunted and braved a glance at the mess, which was spilled out on the floor next to Robert's drying vomit.

"Well," Robert said, "at least you can't blame the smell on me alone."

A faint smile crossed Connelly's face. "What happened?"