The diver—one of the nurses-noticed the two spectators hovering overhead, and beckoned Duncan to join her. He had become so fascinated that he now obeyed automatically, without a second’s thought. Taking several deep breaths, and partly exhaling on the last one, he hauled himself slowly down the line anchoring the dinghy to its small grapnel.
The distance was greater than he had imagined more like three meters than two, for he had forgotten the refractive effect of the water. Midway, his left ear gave a disconcerting “click,” but Dr. Todd had warned him about this, and he did not check his descent. When he reached the anchor, and grabbed its shank, he felt a tremendous sense of achievement. He was a deep-sea diver-he had plumbed the fabulous depth of three meters! Well, at least two point five … The glitter of gold was all around him. There was never more than a tiny speck, smaller than a grain of sand, at any one spot-but it was everywhere;
the entire reef was impregnated with it. Duncan felt that he was floating beside the chef-d’oeuvre of some mad jeweler, determined to create a baroque masterpiece regardless of expense. Yet these pinnacles and plates and twisted spires were the work of mindless polyps, not-except indirectly-the products of human intelligence.
Reluctantly, he shot up to the surface for air. This was easy; he felt ashamed of his previous fears. Now he understood how visitors often reacted to Titan. Next time, when someone politely declined an invitation to take a pleasant jaunt outside, he would be a little more tolerant.
“What are those black things?” be asked Dr. Todd, who was still hovering watchfully above him.
“Long-spined sea urchin, Diadema something-or other When you see so many, it’s a sign of pollution or an unbalanced ecology. They don’t really damage the reef-unlike Acanthaster-but they’re ugly, and a nuisance. If you back into one, the needles may take a month to work their way out. Are you going down again?”
“Yes. 99
“Good. Don’t overdo it. And watch out for those spines!”
Duncan hauled himself down the anchor line once more, and the diver waved him a greeting as he approached. Then she offered him her deadly-looking knife, and pointed toward a small group of sea urchins. Duncan nodded, took the tapering metal blade by the proffered handle, and started jabbing away inexpertly, being careful to avoid those ominous black needles.
Not until then did he realize, to his considerable surprise, that these lowly animals were aware of his presence, and were not relying merely on a static defense. The long spines were swinging toward him, orienting themselves in the direction of maximum danger. Presumably it was only a simple automatic reflex, but it made him pause for a moment. There was more here than met the eye-perhaps the first faint intimations of dawning consciousness.
His knife was longer than the sea urchin’s spines, and he jabbed
vigorously again and again. The cara216 pace was surprisingly tough, but presently it gave way, and the waiting fish raced in to grab at the creamy white flesh that was suddenly exposed.
And then, with growing discomfort, Duncan realized that his victim was not dying in silence. For some time he had been aware of faint sounds in the water around him-the hammering of the other divers on the reef, the occasional “clang” of the anchor against the rocks. But this noise came from much closer at hand, and was most peculiar-even disturbing. It was a crackling, grinding sound; though the analogy was patently ridiculous, it could only be compared to the crunching of thousands of tiny teeth, clashing in rage and agony. Moreover, there was no doubt that it came from the eviscerated sea urchin.
That faint, inhuman death rattle was so unexpected that Duncan checked his onslauLyht and remained howe ring motionless in the water. He had completely forgotten the necessity for air, and the conscious part of his mind had dismissed the mounting symptoms of suffocation as irrelevant-to be dealt with later. But finally he could ignore them no longer, and shot gasping to the surface.
With a profound sense of shock-even of shame Duncan realized that he had just destroyed a living creature. He could never have imagined, before he left Titan, that such an experience would ever come his way.
One could hardly feel much guilt over the murder of a sea urchin.
Nevertheless, for the first time in his life, Duncan Makenzie was a
killer.
SLEUTH
When Duncan returned to Washington, the second time bomb from Colin was ticking away in the Centennial Hotel. Once again, it was so cryptic that it would have been almost unintelligible, even to an outsider who had succeeded in decoding it.
CONFIRM YOUR OLD FRIEND HAS UNAUTHORIZED ACCOUNT 65842 GENEVA BRANCH
FIRST
BANK OF ARISTARCHUS. BALANCE SEVERAL TENS OF THOUSANDS SO LARS THIS
INFORMATION NOT TO BE DISCLOSED ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. PRESUME FROM SALE
OF
TITANITE. MAKING INQUIRIES MNEMOSYNE. MEANWHILE SUGGEST YOU KEEP
ALERT.
REGARDS COLIN.
