“Donald, how about turning on the outside lights for a moment,” Suzanne suggested.

“We’re only passing through five hundred feet,” Donald said. “There’s nothing to see.”

“It’s Mr. Bergman’s first open ocean dive,” Suzanne said. “He should see the plankton.”

“Call me Perry,” Perry said. “I mean, why be formal while we’re packed in here together like so many sardines in a can?”

Suzanne acknowledged Perry’s offer of informality with a smile. She was only sorry he so clearly was not enjoying the trip.

“Donald, as a favor to me, turn on the lights,” Suzanne said.

Donald complied without further comment. He reached forward and snapped on the external halogen lamps on the port side. Perry turned his head and glanced out.

“Looks like snow,” he said.

“It’s trillions of individual plankton organisms,” Suzanne explained. “Since we’re still in an epipelagic zone, it’s probably mostly phytoplankton, or plant plankton that can carry on photosynthesis. Along with the blue-green algae, those are the guys who are at the bottom of the entire oceanic food chain.”

“I’m glad,” Perry said.

Donald switched the lights off. “No sense in using up valuable battery power with that type of reaction,” he explained to Suzanne sotto voce.

In the ensuing darkness, Perry witnessed twinkling bursts of muted neon green and yellow sparkles. He asked Suzanne what it was.

“That’s bioluminescence,” Suzanne said.

“Is it the plankton?” Perry asked.

“It could be,” Suzanne said. “If so, it would probably be dinoflagellates. Of course, it could also be tiny crustaceans or even fish. I’ve put a yellow bookmark in the marine life book marking the bioluminescence section.”

Perry nodded but made no attempt to pick up the text.

Nice try, Suzanne thought glumly. Her optimism about ensuring Perry’s enjoyment sagged appreciably.

“ Oceanus, this is Benthic Explorer,” Larry’s voice sounded in the acoustic phone speaker. “Suggest a course two hundred and seventy degrees at fifty amps for two minutes.”

“Roger,” Donald said. He quickly made the course adjustment with the joysticks and changed the power output to the propeller to the suggested fifty amps. He then noted the changes on his clipboard.

“Larry has plotted our position by tracking our pinger and relating it to the bottom hydrophones,” Suzanne explained. “By powering forward while descending we’ll reach bottom directly at the well head. It’s like we’re gliding to the target.”

“What will we do until the divers arrive?” Perry asked. “Just sit and twiddle our thumbs?”

“Hardly,” Suzanne said. She forced another smile along with a shallow laugh. “We’ll unload the drill bit from the tray along with the tools we’re carrying. Then we’ll back off. At that point we’ll have about twenty to thirty minutes to explore around the site. That’s the part I think you are going to truly enjoy.”

“I can’t wait,” Perry said with the kind of sarcasm Suzanne was beginning to dread. “But I don’t want you doing anything out of the ordinary on my behalf. I mean, don’t try to impress me. I’m already impressed enough.”

Suddenly the monotonous pinging of the sonar changed. The sub was nearing the bottom, and the forward short-range sonar had a solid contact. The tiny screen showed the well head and the pipe snaking down from above. Donald jettisoned several of the descent weights and the craft’s gliding plunge slowed. He then began a careful adjustment of the variable ballast system to achieve neutral buoyancy.

While Donald was busy pumping oil, Suzanne reached behind her and turned on a small CD player. It was part of her master plan. All at once the sound of Igor Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring filled the sub’s interior. Taking the music as a cue, Donald leaned forward and switched on the outside lights.

Perry’s eyes widened as he glanced out the view port. The planktonic snow had all but disappeared, and the clarity of the icy water was more than he imagined. He was able to see for several hundred feet, and what he saw left him flabbergasted. He’d expected a flat, featureless plain similar to what the bottom looked like on his dive off Santa Catalina Island. At most he thought he might see a few sea cucumbers. Instead he was gazing at a misty tableau the likes of which he’d never imagined: huge, dark gray, columnar forms with flat tops dotted the landscape, jutting up in a stepwise fashion like the frozen pistons of an enormous engine. The haunting shapes extended out as far as Perry could see. A few long-tailed, big-eyed fish lazily darted in and around them. On some of the rock ledges sea fans and sea whips waved sinuously in the current.

“Good God!” Perry exclaimed. He was mesmerized, especially with the dramatic music in the background.

“Rather exceptional, eh?” Suzanne said. She was encouraged. Perry’s reaction to the scenery was his first auspicious response.

“It looks like some ancient temple area,” Perry exclaimed.

“Like Atlantis,” Suzanne suggested. She was intent on milking the situation for all it was worth.

“Yeah!” Perry blurted. “Like Atlantis! Jeez! Can you imagine bringing tourists down here and telling them that it was Atlantis? What a freaking gold mine this could be.”

Suzanne cleared her throat. Bringing tourists down to her precious seamount was the last thing she wanted to see happen, but she appreciated Perry’s enthusiasm. At least he was engaged.

“Current is less than an eighth of a knot,” Donald said. “Coming up on the well head. Prepare to off-load the drill bit.”

Suzanne swung around to attend to her duties as copilot. She powered up the servos for the manipulator arms. Meanwhile Donald set the Oceanus down expertly on the rock floor. While Suzanne prepared to lift the drill bit and tools from the submersible’s tray, Donald used the UQC phone.

“On the bottom,” Donald said. “Off-loading the payload.”

“Roger,” Larry said in reply over the speaker. “I guessed as much when I heard Suzanne’s music. Is that the only freaking CD she has?”

“It’s the best one for the scenery down here,” Suzanne interjected.

“If we make any more dives I’ll loan you some New Age CDs,” Larry answered. “I can’t stand that classical stuff.”

“Am I looking at basaltic dikes out here?” Perry questioned.

“That’s my guess,” Suzanne said. “Have you ever heard of the Giant’s Causeway?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Perry said.

“It’s a natural rock formation on the northern coast of Ireland,” Suzanne said. “It looks something like what you’re seeing here.”

“How big is the top of this seamount?” Perry questioned.

“I’d estimate about four football fields,” Suzanne said. “But, unfortunately, that’s nothing but a guess. The problem is we haven’t had enough bottom time to explore the whole thing.”

“Well, I think we ought to,” Perry said.

Right on! Suzanne said to herself. She had to resist the temptation to yell out to ask if Larry and Mark had heard Perry’s comment over the UQC.

“Does the whole top of the mountain look just the same as it does here?” Perry asked.

“No, not entirely,” Suzanne said. “On the limited amount we’ve seen there are some areas of more typical undersea lava formations. On the last dive, though, we caught a glimpse of what might be a transverse fault, but we were called back before we could check it out. The mount remains largely unexplored.”

“Where was the fault in relation to the well head?” Perry asked.

“Due west from here,” Suzanne said. “Just about in the direction you’re looking right now. Can you see a particularly high row of columns?”

“I think so,” Perry said. He pushed his face against the Plexiglas to try to look slightly behind the sub. There was a row of columns at the edge of his visibility. “Would finding a transverse fault be significant?” he asked.