Zack helped Carlos past a slippery patch. "Let's go to plan two."

Andy was manning the pump, awaiting a hand signal from Zack before he sent the explosive liquid flowing into the ground.

"If it's in there," he said with obvious satisfaction, "this is going to make it very unhappy."

Cadmann nodded and found a comfortable place to sit. He was suddenly aware of fatigue and cramped muscles. Somewhere someone was cooking, and the fragrance of lamb stew with fresh vegetables was suddenly overwhelming.

Carlos appeared, holding two heaping bowls.

"They should give medals for this, Martinez."

"By the time the paperwork goes through, we'll both be dead and gone."

"Too true."

The stew was thickened with leftover Year Day rice, and utterly delicious. Cadmann leaned back against a rock, listening to the useful bustle around him, warmed by the food and the nearness of his friend.

The clouds shrouded the stars. The twin moons must have already risen, but another two or three hours would pass before they were visible this low in the gorge.

All there was now was the steady gurgle of the water and the human sounds around them. For some reason that he couldn't name, Cadmann felt a sudden, strong urge to see the stars, the moons.

Why?

Because you're going down there tonight.

"What are you thinking about, Cadmann?"

"Mary Ann." His teeth wrestled with an undercooked, mildly seasoned portion of lamb. It resisted for a moment, then his teeth found the grain.

"I'm hoping she's not worried."

"Sí. I was thinking of Bobbi. I hope she's well, out of surgery, and not worrying about me. It is not good for las palomitas to worry."

"Especially when there's nothing to worry about."

"Precisely."

They turned to face each other, and Cadmann managed to hold his bland expression for about five seconds before both gave in to a wave of grim laughter.

"Clear the holes!" Andy shouted, and the hose was pulled from the ground, the pumps and barrels wheeled away toward the rock wall.

A wire was run down the pipes and its end clipped into a detonation switch. Andy came over to sit with Cadmann and Carlos, twenty meters from the hole.

"You ready for this?"

"If you're going to collapse this whole shore area, the least you can do is give us time to swim for it."

"Naw. We've got at least eight meters of rock under us. We've already identified enough outlets to release the pressure. Fireworks no. Earthquakes yes. Ready?"

"As we'll ever be."

He switched on his radio. "Two and three?"

"Standing ready."

"Good news. On zero. Three, two, one—"

Cadmann squinted as Andy said "zero!" sharply, and twisted the detonator toggle. There was a dull thud that shook the rock beneath them, and a jet of flame-tinged smoke erupted from the hole.

There was a second, more violent tremor, and a tickle of panic shot up Cadmann's spine. Then silence except for a steady hissing sound and a jet of grayish smoke from the hole. Cadmann sneezed against a horrid chemical smell.

Andy got to his feet. "If it's down there, it should be very dead," he said.

Shoulds were going to get them all killed.

"How long before we can go down to check?"

"How quick can you get wet?"

"Got it. Zack?"

There was no reply, and he raised his voice. "Zack?"

The camp administrator's voice came in over the radio. "Is that

Cadmann bellowing for me, or has one of our elephants gone into rut?"

"We haven't hatched any elephants yet."

"Then put Cadmann on."

The smoke streaming from the ground was taking on a darker color. Got you... I hope. "Zack, Cad here. I need those dozen men you promised me."

"You'll have them. You're sure you have to go in, Cad? It's probably dead." Zack hesitated. "No, dammit, ‘probably' isn't going to help me sleep any better. We'll Skeeter in the last two from camp. Take about twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes," Carlos mused. "Time for a short nap or a long prayer. Or another bowl of stew. Come on."

"Aren't you worried about cramps?"

"Nah. I've been through menopause."

Cadmann stood, shaking the stiffness from his knees. "You're a very sick man, Carlos. Probably your most endearing trait."

GRENDEL'S MOTHER

Beowulf spoke:

"Let your sorrow end! It is better for us all to avenge our friends, not mourn then forever. I promise you—she shall have no shelter, no hole to hide, no towering tree, no deep bottom of a lake where her sins may hide."

BEOWULF

The water was dark and cool, shallow now and calmer than the rushing currents of the Miskatonic behind them. Cadmann's head broke the surface and he held his handlamp up. Its beam probed the blackness as he climbed out onto the limestone gallery.

Carlos surged out of the water, and their combined beams gave Cadmann a grasp of the dimensions of the chamber. The roof was only a meter above his head and was dappled with some kind of webbed moss. Something far to the left gave off a faintly purplish luminescence. Although there was no smoke in the air, it had to be rich with nerve poison. He didn't dare remove his mask.

The chamber was too small to hide anything much larger than a rat; the torchlight splashed bright and hard against the farthest wall. Shallow pools stood beneath embryonic stalactites. A slow, steady drip of water raised echoes everywhere.

The rest of the men were out of the water now, and Cadmann adjusted his throat mike.

"All right. Anyone see anything? Jerry?"

"Not a thing. I think it went deeper back."

"Agreed."

A slick, rounded hump of rock was the next barrier. Cadmann clambered to the top and played his torch down into the darkness.

"Andy!"

The engineer responded with a hand-held scanning unit. He clambered up to the top of the rock and perched there. Together they scanned the dark water.

"Nothing for at least twenty meters. Just rock and wet. Do we go for it?"

"You got anything better to do?"

"Not a thing."

Cadmann, Andy and Carlos hammered pitons into the rock, then attached cables and ropes and climbed cautiously down the side into a lower body of water.

The gloom was absolute, as if no ray of light had penetrated this deeply since the Miskatonic first cut this chamber from the rock.

Tiny blind things moved sluggishly aside as he swam through the murk. Some wriggled like eels, and others scuttled along the bottom of the pool like crabs. They groped through the dark, trying to avoid him, gliding through his torchlight as if totally unaware of it.

No sound but the faint re-breather hiss in his ears, no natural light at all now. Just eleven men and two sterile women swimming silently through the murk. And we've all made our deposits in the sperm bank.

The rock walls began to close in from the sides, and Cadmann bumped against first one and then the other as his finned feet flailed for balance before he found the right path.

"Andy," he croaked into his throat mike. He suddenly remembered the first time he had tried to use a mouthpiece and a throat mike at the same time: he had swallowed about two cups of Barrier Reef brine. "How far did you say these caves extend?"

"I didn't. All we can do is search for an hour, hope that we can find our target. ‘Target.' Sounds like I expect it to be standing still, doesn't it? Anyway, then we make our way back out." Each of the thirteen members of the team carried two additional re-breather cartridges in their bulky backpacks.

That gave them a total of two hours—but Cadmann had no interest in letting things get down to the last few seconds. Fifty minutes in, fifty out. Twenty-minute margin for error.