Robert had been silent for the past twenty minutes. Connelly could tell he was concentrating on his counting. Elevators alone were enough to throw him, but this was a fully enclosed system with water on all sides, and there would be no sedative to knock him out this time. At least the water dulled the feeling of downward motion. If not for the layers of ice sliding past, she wouldn't even know they were moving.

Seeing Robert had calmed, she decided it was time to conclude their previous conversation. It had been left open ended. It wasn't that she needed a detailed battle plan, just a feeling of where they stood. Would they report their findings and recommend keeping Peterson under quarantine? Would they put Peterson to sleep in one of the impact chairs until they went back home? Several worst case scenarios plowed through her mind and the nervousness began to build inside her stomach like an expanding elastic ball.

"So…" Connelly started.

Robert jolted slightly and then turned to Connelly, his lips still mouthing numbers. Connelly quickly read his lips, "Two thousand fifty-three."

Geez.

"What do you recommend we do about Michael?" Connelly asked.

Robert ran his lower lip beneath his teeth. "Not much we can do aside from wait and see what, if anything, happens to him."

Connelly frowned. "So he's a guinea pig?"

"Of his own design," Robert said. "May I remind you that the experiment involving the Europhid and plant incubator didn't exactly conform to the rules of good science? Sorry if I sound callous, but he brought it on himself."

Connelly felt a surge of embarrassment, knowing that she had played some part in the scientific debacle Robert was referring to. The incident in the bio-lab was not one of her finer moments and had convinced her to put her feelings for Michael on hold. Indefinitely. "You're right," she said.

Robert sighed, relieved she didn't argue the point.

"So," Connelly said, "We wait and see if he grows a third arm. If nothing happens, we'll keep this half-assed theory about little red Jell-O molds having brains to ourselves."

Connelly flashed a smile at Robert and he returned it.

The sphere jerked to a stop and swayed gently in the water.

Robert gripped his knees. "What's happening?"

Connelly leaned forward and flipped on the com system.

"H-e-l-l-o! Can you guys hear me?" Willard's voice boomed loudly from the sphere's interior speakers. "If you don't respond in thirty seconds, I'm pulling you up."

Connelly turned down the volume. "We hear you."

"About time," Willard said, sounding truly annoyed. "You've reached the bottom."

Jerking her head up, Connelly looked through the glass and was surprised to see the ice walls were now gone. They hadn't even noticed the transition from light grey to pitch black. "It's a little dark down here. Hit the exteriors."