Beth was unstable, erratic. He could hear it in her voice. He had to deprive her of her weapons, to turn off the explosives, if he could.
Off, he thought. Let's have the explosives off and disarmed.
All the red lights immediately went off.
Not bad, he thought, with a burst of pleasure. A moment later, the red lights blinked back on.
"You can't do it, Norman," Beth said, laughing. "Not to me. I can fight you."
He knew she was right. They were having an argument, a test of wills, turning the explosives on and off. And the argument couldn't ever be resolved. Not that way. He would have to do something more direct.
He moved toward the nearest of the Tevac explosives. Up close, the cone was larger than he had thought, four feet high, with a red light at the top.
"I can see you, Norman. I see what you're doing."
There was writing on the cone, yellow letters stenciled on the gray surface. Norman bent to read it. His faceplate was slightly fogged, but he could still make out the words.
DANGER - TEVAC EXPLOSIVES
U.S.N. CONSTRUCTION/DEMOLITION USE ONLY
DEFAULT DETONATE SEQUENCE 20:00
CONSULT MANUAL USN/VV/512-A
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
DANGER-TEVAC EXPLOSIVES
There was still more writing beneath that, but it was smaller, and he couldn't make it out.
"Norman! What're you doing with my explosives, Norman?"
Norman didn't answer her. He looked at the wiring. One thin cable ran into the base of the cone, and a second cable ran out. The second cable went along the muddy bottom to the next cone, where there were again just two cables - one in, and one out.
"Get away from there, Norman. You're making me nervous.
One cable in, and one cable out.
Beth had wired the cones together in series, like Christmas-tree bulbs! By pulling out a single cable, Norman would disconnect the entire line of explosives. He reached forward and gripped the cable in his gloved hand.
"Norman! Don't touch that wire, Norman!"
"Take it easy, Beth."
His fingers closed around the cable. He felt the soft plastic coating, gripped it tightly.
Chapter 23
"Norman, if you pull that cable you'll set off the explosives. I swear to you - it'll blow you and me and Harry and everything to hell, Norman."
He didn't think it was true. Beth was lying. Beth was out of control and she was dangerous and she was lying to him again.
He drew his hand back. He felt the tension in the cable.
"Don't do it, Norman. ...
The cable was now taut in his hand. "I'm going to shut you down, Beth."
"For God's sake, Norman. Believe me, will you? You'll kill us all!"
Still he hesitated. Could she be telling the truth? Did she know about wiring explosives? He looked at the big gray cone at his feet, reaching up to his waist. What would it feel like if it exploded? Would he feel anything at all?
"The hell with it," he said aloud.
He pulled the cable out of the cone.
The shriek of the alarm, ringing inside his helmet, made him jump. There was a small liquid-crystal display at the top of his faceplate blinking rapidly: "EMERGENCY"... "EMERGENCY"...
"Oh, Norman. God damn it. Now you've done it."
He barely heard her voice over the alarm. The red cone lights were blinking, all down the length of the spacecraft. He braced himself for the explosion.
But then the alarm was interrupted by a deep, resonant male voice that said, "Your attention, please. Your attention, please. All construction personnel clear the blast area immediately. Tevac explosives are now activated. The countdown will begin ... now. Mark twenty, and counting."
On the cone, a red display flashed 20:00. Then it began counting backward: 19:59 ... 19:58 ...
The same display was repeated on the crystal display at the top of his helmet.
It took him a moment to put it together, to understand. Staring at the cone, he read the yellow lettering once again: U.S.N. CONSTRUCTION/DEMOLITION USE ONLY.
Of course! Tevac explosives weren't weapons, they were made for construction and demolition. They had built-in safety timers - a programmed twenty-minute delay before they went off, to allow workers to get away.
Twenty minutes to get away, he thought. That would give him plenty of time.
Norman turned, and began striding quickly toward DH-7 and the submarine.
0140 HOURS
He walked evenly, steadily. He felt no strain. His breath came easily. He was comfortable in his suit. All systems working smoothly.
He was leaving. "Norman, please ..." Now Beth was pleading with him, another erratic shift of mood. Norman ignored her. He continued on toward the submarine. The deep recorded voice said, "Your attention, please. All Navy personnel clear the blast area. Nineteen minutes and counting."
Norman felt an enormous sense of purposefulness, of power. He had no illusions any more. He had no questions. He knew what he had to do.
He had to save himself.
"I don't believe you're doing this, Norman. I don't believe you're abandoning us."
Believe it, he thought. After all, what choice did he have? Beth was out of control and dangerous. It was too late to save her now - in fact, it was crazy to go anywhere near her. Beth was homicidal. She'd already tried to kill him once, and had nearly succeeded.
And Harry had been drugged for thirteen hours; by now he was probably clinically dead, brain-dead. There was no reason for Norman to stay. There was nothing for him to do.
The sub was close now. He could see the fittings on the yellow exterior.
"Norman, please ... I need you."
Sorry, he thought. I'm getting out of here.
He moved around beneath the twin propellor screws, the name painted on the curved hull, Deepstar III. He climbed the footholds, moving up into the dome.