“But, we’re not going to be seeing those anytime soon,” Greg snorted. “Unless Dmitry has a change of mind.” He picked up one of the small flat tins of caviar. “Golly, why didn’t he drop us down something useful… like trucker’s hats.” He tossed a small flat tin of caviar out over the water making it skip half a dozen times along the glassine surface.

“Hey!” Cate sprang to her feet, and crossed to him. She pushed him in the chest. “I should make you go and get that.”

Jack growled. “That’s your rations you’re tossing away, son.”

Greg held up his hands in surrender. Cate scowled a moment longer and then turned to Jack.

“Anyway, why not get to the other stations? We’ve got a raft.” Cate began to fashion a small pack out of the lining of the communication buoy, stacking all its items inside.

Jack took the compass, reading from it, and then holding it up to angle the small dial for a second or two. “I like the idea, but what’s the point of paddling twenty more miles to the next communication buoy? The odds are it will have been sabotaged by whoever destroyed this one.”

“Shit, you’re probably right.” Cate straightened quickly. “Well, I’m not just sitting down and waiting for the lights to go out.”

“Me either.” Jack looked up from the compass. “There might be another way.” Jack held out an arm, pointing southward. “Heceta Island.”

“I remember, in Viva Silva Cave, you mentioned it on the surface – one of the deepest caves in the continent.” Cate lifted her chin.

Greg edged closer, and Abby sat forward.

“That’s it – on Heceta Island.” Jack’s jaw set. “Pronounced HECK–ah–Ta – a long way – around fifty miles to the south. But it has something that no other island in this area has… or for that matter, most islands, anywhere. The Viva Silva Cave is eight hundred feet deep, and I know it, because I’ve been in it.”

“Does it go all the way down to here?” Greg’s eyes were wide and round.

“Unlikely, and anyway, we’re much deeper than that. But I know the cave ends at a depth of eight hundred feet with a few small cracks. There could have been further honeycombing pockets that take it even deeper.” He shrugged. “Bottom line is, there’s a chance it may end close enough for us to break through.”

Greg nodded, grinning. “I’ll dig with my bare hands if that’s what it takes.”

“I’ll help.” Abby held up a hand for Greg. He took it and lifted her to her feet.

“Me too,” Cate said, eyebrows raised. “And we now have a way to get there – our raft.”