“See, this is why I need to get down there,” he said. “Something is not right here.”

The last clip was paused showing the yellow helmet. Sam pointed at the corner of the screen, where the ROV’s digital statistics were overlaid. “There’s a reason whoever was down there had a diving helmet. 100 meters is saturation diving territory.”

“Well, it looks like that didn’t go so well for them, doesn’t it?” He tapped the helmet on the screen. “I know right where to look. If I can just get a few more clips on a GoPro, I’ll have definitive proof to take to the police, or the navy. I’m thinking ten minutes on the bottom, no more.”

Sam leaned back on the bed, resting on her elbows. “What’s the deco time for a dive that deep for that long?”

“Just shy of three hours. We can take sling bottles of nitrox for deco and hang a couple of 100 percent O2 tanks from the skiff at ten feet. This all assumes Roland is up for it.” He suddenly realized he’d included her in this plan. “That is, only if you’re comfortable with it. You could stay shallower and be my safety diver…”

“I’m game,” she interrupted. “I’ve been to 75 meters on a wreck in Aussie. What is that in old currency… 230 feet? We dove trimix for that. If we stick to a plan and keep an eye on each other, we can do this.”

Tusker had the sudden urge to lean over and kiss her hard on the mouth. Something about the impending risk of the dive and her willingness to go along with it sent a palpable charge fizzing through the dark room. Did she sense it too? Sam sat up quickly and got to her feet. “Alright, let’s see what Thathi’s got for helium in the shop. He usually keeps some to blend for the rebreather divers.”

“Oh, there’s one more thing,” Tusker said before she got to the door. “Your father said he won’t allow this and doesn’t want you to go. I told him we’re sticking to the Taprobane.”

She grinned mischievously. “This feels like school days. I used to meet this guy…” She paused. “Oh, never mind. I won’t tell him if you don’t.” She walked out and left the door open.

Two hours later, they were motoring out of the lagoon. The skiff was badly overloaded with tanks and Roland had to carefully maneuver it through the shallows. The midday heat was already bringing the steady offshore breeze, and outside the shelter of the lagoon, swells were kicking up, sending spray into the boat.

“It’s going to be harder to find that buoy in these waves,” Roland shouted above the noise of the under-matched outboard.