Three Miles Down by Harry Turtledove

Author:Harry Turtledove
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

* * *

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.

The newcomers walked by, their heads on swivels, trying to see everything at once. Then it was the turn of the men going home to board the helicopter. A petty officer stood by the little metal staircase that led up to the entrance. “Make sure y’all strap in soon as you sit down,” he said.

Strap in Jerry did. The harness was more elaborate than an airliner seat belt or even the seat-and-shoulder belts new cars used (Jerry’s beat-up Rambler boasted no belts at all). The petty officer climbed in right behind the passengers. He stowed the little staircase and secured the door, then sat up front with the pilot.

Being crewmen, they wore helmets. Jerry envied them as soon as the engine started up again. If being near a chopper was loud, being in one was.… For a few seconds, Jerry couldn’t think of what it was like. Then he decided he knew now what the butter in a blender heard when a cook turned it up to high.

Up went the helicopter, just like that. Jerry craned his neck to keep the Glomar Explorer in sight as long as he could, but the ship soon disappeared behind the whirlybird. Part of his life was disappearing with it—a brief part, a strange part, but an important part. How important? He doubted he’d know the answer to that for years and years. Even when he did know, he doubted he’d be able to tell anybody.

Talking in the cabin was impossible. So was thinking, or nearly. The last time Jerry’d sat through so much noise, he and Anna were seeing Jethro Tull at the Forum. He’d enjoyed that more.

The flight back to Midway took about an hour. The island was actually two sandy islets, neither poking more than a few feet up out of the ocean.

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