“Will do.” Jerry got to his feet. There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Dale held out his hand. Jerry shook it. He opened the door and left, closing it behind him. He hadn’t even got to the end of the corridor before Steve came around the corner. “I only wish I were surprised to see you,” Jerry said.

“Jack told me Dale wanted to see me,” Steve said. “So, it is what I think it is?”

“‘Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee,’” Jerry answered, feeling Donne to a turn. That English Lit class paid off again.

“Oh … hell,” Steve said.

“Yeah. Fun while it lasted.” Jerry hurried away. He didn’t want anyone else seeing him on, or maybe over, the verge of tears.

He had himself together—he thought so, anyway—by the time he went forward to get a nearly last look at Humpty Dumpty. He couldn’t, though; the tarpaulin stretched over the moon pool. Maybe a Soviet spy satellite was up there in the sky right now. Or maybe the powers that be didn’t want anybody else seeing what they were up to with the starship. Jerry couldn’t be sure, but he knew how he’d guess.

He walked back to his cabin and shut the door. Then he kicked the door to the steel locker where he stashed his stuff, as hard as he could. The door barely dented. His right big toe hurt like hell.

Swearing at the pain gave him an idea. He left the cabin again and limped down the corridor.

The tarp hadn’t come off the moon pool for four days. That confirmed Jerry’s suspicions. Whether he had them or not didn’t matter anymore. He stood near the edge of the helipad, waiting for the copter that would take him away from all this. His suitcase sat by one foot, the hydrophone by the other. They were both heavy; he’d got sick of holding them.

Steve stood there, too, and four other guys who were going home. They acted overjoyed; Jerry and Steve were the glum ones.

“Did they search what you’re taking home?” Steve asked.

“Sure.” Jerry nodded. “I knew they would. I even helped. You?”

“Oh, yes.”

Before they said anything more, one of them other men—he was a paramedic who’d worked with Doc Borden and Dr. Rogers—pointed southwest and said, “Here comes the chopper!” He sounded excited as hell.

Wind whipped Jerry’s face as the Navy helicopter set down. The noise was appalling. Slowly, the rotors stopped spinning. Half a dozen men with suitcases and duffels got out. Jerry recognized one of them. If people on the Glomar Explorer thought he’d been a pain in the ass, they might not have seen anything yet. He kept quiet. They’d find out for themselves.