“Well,” Suzanne exclaimed. “Like you said, Donald, the ball is in their court, and I think we’re being invited to a face-to-face meeting.”

“What should we do?” Perry questioned nervously.

“I think we should go up,” Donald said. “But let’s go slowly and stay together. And, Perry, you do the talking like we decided.”

Richard and Michael had not seen the silent appearance of the stairway thanks to their communication gestures which had competitively progressed to pure silliness. Above, the crowd was responding gleefully to their antics which only encouraged them to new heights. But when they caught sight of the stairs, they bolted for them. They were both eager to make more intimate contact with their newfound female friends.

“Hold it!” Donald barked. He’d stepped sideways to block the divers’ mad dash. “Fall in! We’re going as a group and Mr. Bergman is doing the talking.”

“I gotta meet this brunette,” Richard said eagerly.

“I got a date with the raven-haired honey,” Michael added out of breath.

Both divers tried to step around Donald, but he reached out and grasped their upper arms in a viselike grip. They both started to protest but changed their minds when they saw Donald’s face. The ex-naval officer’s nostrils were flared and his mouth pressed into a grim line of determination.

“I suppose it can wait a few minutes,” Richard managed.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael said. “There’ll be time.”

Donald let go of the divers’ arms, then gestured for Perry to lead the way.

Perry had a good deal more self-assurance as he started up the stairs than he’d had earlier in the corridor. Confronting a mixed group of handsome individuals in matching lingerie seemed less intimidating than what his imagination had previously conjured up. Yet the uniqueness of the circumstances undermined his confidence as he progressed. He found himself wondering if Michael could be right about the whole scene being a collective hallucination and thereby be an elaborate trap as Donald suggested. But then Perry’s normally optimistic nature had trouble thinking up a rationale for a trap, especially since whoever these people were, they didn’t have to spring any trap since they were already completely in charge of the situation.

The beautiful people, as Perry called them to himself in his confused musings, had initially surged forward to crowd around the head of the stairs like a group of teenagers anticipating the appearance of a rock star. But as Perry and the others neared the top they shrank back. Even this confused Perry since they retreated as if in fear or at least in attentive respect like people would do around a trained but potentially ferocious animal.

Perry mounted the top step and stopped. Ten feet away the throng of beautiful people were arranged in a semicircle. No one moved. No one spoke. No one smiled.

Perry had assumed their captors would be the first to speak. He hadn’t planned to go first but eventually decided to break the ensuing uncomfortable silence with a tentative, “Hi.”

His greeting brought on a few giggles from the beautiful people but not much else. Perry turned to glance back at his colleagues for suggestions. Suzanne shrugged. Donald had nothing to volunteer. He still seemed far more mistrustful than Perry felt.

Perry turned back to the crowd. “Does anyone speak any English?” he called out in desperation. “Any English at all or maybe some Spanish?” Perry could speak a little.

A couple stepped forward. Both appeared to be in their midtwenties, and like everyone else, they were shockingly handsome. They had archetypally perfect features which reminded Perry of images he’d seen on ancient cameos. The man had blond hair of medium length. His eyes were an intense sky blue. The woman had fiery red hair with a prominent widow’s peak. Her green eyes were as bright as emeralds. Both had rosily radiant, flawless skin. Back in L.A., there would be no question: these two were movie star material.

“Hello, friends, how are you?” the man said with a perfect American accent. “Please don’t be afraid. You’ll not be harmed. My name is Arak and this is Sufa.” The man gestured toward the woman next to him.

“I’d like to say hi, too,” Sufa said. “What would each of you like to be called?”

Perry was stunned to hear such regular English come out of their mouths. It was oddly reassuring to hear something so familiar, given the alien quality of everything they’d encountered since the Oceanus sunk.

“Who are you people?” Perry managed.

“We are inhabitants of Interterra,” Arak said. His resonant baritone was not dissimilar to Donald’s.

“And where the hell is Interterra?” Perry demanded. Without meaning to, his voice had a harsh edge. It had suddenly occurred to him that perhaps this whole setup was some kind of elaborate joke, rather than the kind of trap Donald feared.

“Please!” Arak said solicitously. “I know you are confused and exhausted, and you certainly have a right to be after what you’ve been through. We are well aware how taxing the decontamination sequence can be, so please try to relax. There’s a lot of excitement in store for you.”

“Are you expatriate Americans?” Perry asked.

Both Arak and Sufa slapped their hands over their mouths in a vain effort to contain their laughter. All the beautiful people close enough to hear Perry’s question did the same.

“Please excuse our laughter,” Arak said. “We don’t mean to be rude. No, we are not Americans. We Interterrans happen to be quite accomplished in your languages. English in all its varieties happens to be Sufa’s and my specialty.”

Suzanne leaned next to Perry’s ear and whispered: “Ask them again where Interterra is.”

Perry complied.

“Interterra is beneath the oceans,” Arak said in response. “It resides in a gap between what you people call the earth’s crust and the earth’s mantle. It’s an area your seismic scientists call the Mohorovicic discontinuity.”

“This is an underground world?” Suzanne blurted. She looked up at what appeared to be a patch of sky filled with sunlight. She was stupefied.

“Undersea is more correct,” Sufa interjected. “But please… we know you will have many questions. They will all be answered in due time. For now we graciously beg for your forbearance.”

“What’s forbearance?” Richard asked.

“It means patience,” Sufa said. She smiled graciously.

“But we do need to know how we should address each of you,” Arak said.

“I’m Perry, president of Benthic Marine,” Perry said while patting his chest. He then identified the others by their full names.

Arak stepped forward and presented himself directly to Suzanne. He was a good head taller than she. He held his right arm outstretched with his palm facing her. He gestured toward it with his other hand. “Perhaps you will do me the honor of an Interterran greeting,” he said. “Press your palm against mine.”

Suzanne hesitated and furtively glanced at Perry and Donald before complying. Her hand was a good deal smaller than Arak’s.

“Welcome, Dr. Newell,” Arak said once their hands had met. “We are particularly pleased that you have come to visit us.” He bowed and took his hand away.

“Well, thank you,” Suzanne said. She was confused yet flattered that she’d been singled out for an individual welcome.

Arak backed away. “Now, my honored guests,” he said. “You will be taken to your quarters, which I’m sure you will find agreeable.”

“Wait a sec, Arak!” Richard called. He raised himself up on his tiptoes. “There’s a gorgeous brunette somewhere around here who’s dying to meet me.”

“And there’s a raven-haired beauty that I want to meet,” Michael said.

The two divers had been scanning the crowd for the women since they’d come up the stairs. To their chagrin they’d not been able to spot either one.

“There will be plenty of time for socializing,” Arak said, “but for now it is important to get you to your rooms since you’ve yet to eat and properly wash. There will be a gala celebration for your arrival later, which we hope you will all attend. So, please follow me.”