“I’m making you nervous?” Greg forced a smile. “Am I the only one who thinks it’s getting smaller in here?” He approached Jack and Yegor. “Hey, guys, do you think we can surface soon? Just to get a breath of fresh air?”

Jack turned to study the young scientist for a moment. “Not just yet, Greg. Why don’t you sit down, buddy? Take it easy for a minute or two.”

Greg grimaced, looking like he was about to object.

“Greg, please do as your told.” Cate scowled.

He stiffened, turning to her. “Will you stop talking to me like that? You’re not Captain Bligh, you know.” He pointed at Jack. “And we’ve already got a captain.”

Cate’s eyes narrowed. “I’m the mission leader—”

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m thinking we’re a bit top-heavy on the management layer in here – we’ve got a captain, a mission leader, and also Mr Money Bags at the rear who seems to be pulling the strings.” He began to pace.

Mironov looked up and smiled. Jack swung in his seat.

“Greg… Greg!”

The young man stopped moving.

“Just… take it easy, buddy.” Jack waved him down, but continued to watch him. He’d seen claustrophobia before, and even though the man was of slight build, the last thing anyone needed right now was someone having a panic attack in a confined space. “We got this, Greg.”

Greg grimaced and wrung his hands for a moment, and then headed back to his seat. Jack turned to Dmitry.

“What’s our oxygen level like? Still damned hot and thick in here.”

Dmitry read from his instrument panel. “Oxygen levels are normal, but is still hot – eighty-one degrees. But not just in here; it’s eighty-five degrees outside – very tropical waters.” He looked up. “Should we increase dehumidifiers? Tough on batteries, but…” He shrugged.

Jack thought for a moment. “Hold off for now, but keep an eye on that temperature gauge. If it gets above eighty-five in here, we’ll cool it down. Otherwise we’ll be losing too much fluid.” Jack spoke over his shoulder. “Make sure everyone is drinking water.”

“Got it,” Cate said, sipping again.

“Big canyon coming up; deep,” Yegor intoned. “Also ceiling is dropping down – we need to go deeper.”

“I see it.” Jack swung back to the screen. “Let’s take it down slow.” He stared hard out the window at the darkness, occasionally sprinkled with pinpoint blue lights like distant stars, in the fathomless dark. “How deep does it go?”

“Very deep here; eight thousand two hundred feet.” Yegor half turned to Jack. “We are at four thousand feet – we can go to five thousand, but not deeper – is not just the pressure, but also the heat. Must be volcanic vents down there.”