"She was alive," Robert said.

Willard remained silent for a moment, his face becoming gravely serious. "Then he's still up there."

Robert nodded. Peterson had sent Choi to a death no person deserved. If she wasn't killed by the shockwave, she'd asphyxiate on the ocean floor…or perhaps be eaten by an alien predator. Either way, her death would be solitary and very uncomfortable. The Europhids had to be stopped. That meant Peterson had to be stopped…by whatever means necessary…if they reached the top.

Robert's only hope was that the control panel would confuse whatever intelligence had consumed Peterson. Even if the Europhids had absorbed every bit of Peterson's mind, they still wouldn't know how to operate TES. He had never been trained. And the command to disengage the sphere was buried under so much protective protocol, he was sure it wouldn't be found in a short span of time. As long as Peterson didn't think to stop the ascent—that could be done with the push of a button.

CHAPTER 32 -- BALLISTIC

The oceanic world became a blur of color as Connelly shot toward the frozen ceiling like a torpedo. She had the propulsion pack pounding out more speed for longer than it was designed to handle. It had been created for undersea exploration, which was normally very slow and methodical, not for drag races. A tight vibration tingled Connelly's back. The pack was nearing its breaking point.

Just another minute, Connelly thought.

But a propulsion pack failure wasn't the only danger she faced now. The PMS suit had an uncanny ability to handle multiple extreme pressures, from the vacuum of space to the compression of the deep sea. But Connelly's rapid ascent was testing the limits of how quickly the PMS could adapt to significant pressure changes. The higher she climbed, the more quickly the suit had to compensate for lesser amounts of pressure. And once Connelly reached the top of the hole, the PMS would endure the ultimate test as it exited the pressurized water and entered open space.

With the shockwave booming up from below, Connelly sensed danger on all sides. By all rights, she should already be dead. But she zipped forward on a direct course for the hole above her head.

As she approached the hole, which was illuminated only by the bright lamp on Connelly's helmet, something fluttered out.

A body.

Connelly feared that it might be Robert or Willard. Perhaps Peterson had found a way to destroy the sphere on its way to the surface? She was relieved to see that whoever it was still had life in them. Arms and legs pulled and kicked at the water in an attempt to slow the descent, but the body continued down at a steady rate.