Yes, but how was that possible? She was in a hostile alien environment. Anytime a diver went down in the deeps, he or she was, of course, but here in this awful place it was even more so. In the labyrinth of the city, she relied on the technology of her suit. But it wasn’t behaving right. Hubbs’ suit should have been sending out a homing beacon that she should have easily picked up, but it wasn’t. She should have been able to send voice transmissions to the LSB and habitat, but she couldn’t. And worse, oh yes, worst of all, the suit’s mapping system should have led her back to the opening of the city, but it wasn’t. It kept leading her to dead ends.

Were the others monitoring her?

Did they know where she was?

It seemed unlikely.

She was confused and turned around and Hubbs was nowhere to be found. It made no sense. At least, until you factored in the city itself. Then maybe it made all the sense in the world.

I will not cower in fear.

She realized she had been drifting there ten minutes or more, thinking, gathering wool, but not doing a damn thing to further her own escape. She stared dreamily at the walls of the tunnel, the skeletonized remains of barnacles, mussels, clams, and various bivalves that clung to it. The walls were lumpy with generations of their deposits.

Death, she thought. The city is made of death.

As if in evidence of this, a small white worm emerged from a chambered shell. It swam through the murky water, pausing inches from her face shield before swimming off.

A sharp burst of static came over her helmet comm and she let out a small, strangled cry. She waited for a voice transmission, but there was nothing but a low squealing, a few sonar-like pings, then silence.

“Bell,” she said into the suit mic. “Chief, can you hear me? Orr? If you’re getting any of this, I’m looking for Hubbs. We got separated…not sure how. I’ll keep at it as long as I can.” She waited, hoping they’d pick it up, but there was no reply coming in. Not so much as a peal of static. She might as well have been on the dark side of the moon. “Hubbs…Hubbs, if you’re injured, activate your emergency beacon. I can track you with it.”

Nothing.

She knew she had to keep her head screwed on straight or she was finished. She couldn’t count on Bell or Murphy coming to her rescue; she had to effect it herself. She knew her life signs were all over the place. She kept imagining them like wild horses running to and fro, trying to bust free from a corral. She had to relax. The more worked up she got, the faster her heart would beat and the more oxygen she would burn.