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." "This will only take a couple of minutes," Richard said. He started forward, intending to walk around Arak and Sufa and mingle in the crowd. But Donald grabbed him as hard as he had when they were downstairs.
"Knock it off, sailor!" Donald snarled under his breath. "We stay together! Remember!" Richard glared back for a moment, fighting the urge to tell Donald to drop dead. He was so close to connecting with that beautiful woman, it was hard to deny himself. Self-restraint had never been his strong point. But once the intensity of Donald's gaze gave him pause, he relented. "I guess some chow's not a bad idea," he said to save face. "You'd better stay in line, bro," Donald snapped. "Otherwise you and I are going to be banging heads." "Just for the record," Richard said. "I ain't afraid of you." CHAPTER NINE
Suzanne put one foot ahead of the other as she followed Arak and Sufa but she felt disconnected, as if her feet were not solidly on the ground. It wasn't dizziness that she was feeling, but it was close. She'd heard the psychiatric term
depersonalization
and wondered if she was suffering some variation of it. Everything she was experiencing felt so surreal. It was as if she were in a dream, although her senses seemed very tangibly engaged. She could see, smell, and hear just like normal. But nothing else was making sense. How could they be under the ocean! As a geophysical oceanographer Suzanne was well aware that the Mohorovicic discontinuity was the name given to a specific layer within the earth that marked an abrupt change in the velocity of sound or
seismic waves. It was located approximately two and a half to seven miles beneath the ocean floor and
about twenty-four miles beneath the continents. She also knew that its eponymous name came from the Serbian seismologist who'd discovered it. But despite having a name, no one had any idea what the layer represented. As far as she knew, neither she nor any other geologist or seismologist had ever considered the possibility it was an enormous, air-filled cavern. The idea was too preposterous to have been seriously entertained.
"Please give our secondary humans the courtesy they deserve," Arak called out to his fellow Interterrans as he moved forward into their midst. "Back up and give us room!" He motioned for the people to give way, and they silently complied.
"Please!" Arak said gently to Suzanne and the others as he gestured toward an open lane leading out from under the roof of the loggia. He moved ahead and waved for them to follow. "As soon as we depart the foreign arrival hall, it will only be a short journey to your accommodations." As if watching herself in a movie Suzanne walked between the crowds of Interterreans. She sensed that Perry was directly behind her and imagined that Donald and the divers were close as well. The situation was no longer scary. The beautiful people were full of smiles and gave furtive, almost shy gestures of greeting. Suzanne found herself unable to keep from smiling in response.
Can this truly be happening?
she kept asking herself as she followed Arak.
Is this a dream?
Everything was certainly surreal enough, yet there was no doubt she could feel the cool marble on her bare feet and the caress of a gentle breeze on her cheeks. Never had she felt such subtle sensory details in a dream no matter how realistic it had been. Sufa turned to Suzanne. "You'll notice that you people are true celebrities. Second-generation humans are very, very popular. You are all so refreshingly stimulating. I better warn you that you will be in great demand."
"What do you mean, 'second-generation humans'?" Suzanne questioned. "Now, Sufa," Arak chided gently. "Remember what we decided! These guests are going to be introduced more slowly to our world than we've done with others in the past." "I remember," Sufa replied. Then to Suzanne she added: "We'll be discussing everything in due time, and all your questions will be answered. I promise you." The group soon emerged onto a spacious verandah that opened up into a stupendously colossal underground cavern so immense, it gave the impression of being outdoors. The illumination was like daylight although there was no sun. The domed ceiling was a pale blue like the color of the sky on a hazy summer day. A few thin clouds floated lazily with the breeze. The verandah was at the side of a building located on the outer edge of a city. Stretching out from the balustrade was a bucolic vista of rolling hills, lush vegetation, and lakes with a few towns in the near distance. The buildings were constructed of black basalt, highly polished and fashioned into a mixture of curves, domes, towers, and classically columned porticos. In the far distance a series of conical mountains rose up from wide bases to fan out against the dome above to form gargantuan supporting columns.
"If you'll all wait for just a moment," Arak said. He then spoke softly into a tiny microphone on an instrument attached to his wrist.
The five "second-generation humans" were spellbound by the unexpected beauty and breathtaking
dimensions of the subterranean paradise. It was beyond anything that their imaginations could have possibly conjured. Even the divers were speechless. "We're waiting for a hovercraft," Sufa explained. "Is this Atlantis?" Perry asked, his mouth agape. "No!" Sufa said, mildly offended. "This is not Atlantis. This city is Saranta. Atlantis is due east from here. But you can't see it. It's behind those columns that support the surface protuberances you people call the Azores."
"So Atlantis does exist?" Perry said.
"Well, of course," Sufa said. "But personally I don't find it nearly as agreeable as Saranta. It's a young, upstart city with rather brazen people if you ask me. But you'll have to judge for yourselves." "Ah, here we go," Arak exclaimed as a domed, saucer-like craft silently materialized at the base of the steps. It arrived so quietly, only those who happened to be looking in the proper direction saw its arrival. "Sorry it took so long," Arak said. "There must be a particularly high demand at the moment for some reason. But please, after you." He gestured down the steps toward an open entrance port that had miraculously appeared on the side of the saucer. The group descended the steps and boarded the craft, which was hovering motionlessly several feet off the ground. It was about thirty feet in diameter with a clear, domed top similar to the kind of purported UFOs seen on the covers of tabloids at grocery checkout lines. Inside was a circular banquette cushioned in white with a black, round central table. There were no controls. Arak was the last to board, and as soon as he did, the entrance port disappeared as silently and as mysteriously as it had appeared.
"Ah, it's always the way," Arak complained after glancing around at the interior. "Just when we're trying to impress you we get one of the old hovercrafts. This one is on its last legs." "Stop complaining," Sufa said. "This vehicle is perfectly serviceable." Suzanne glanced at Donald, who raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. Suzanne looked around the hovercraft. She was so full of questions she didn't know where to begin. Arak placed his hand, palm down, in the center of the black table and leaned forward. "Visitors' palace," he said. He then leaned back and smiled. A moment later the scenery outside began to move. Suzanne reflexively reached out to grasp the edge of the table to steady herself, but it wasn't necessary. There was no sensation of motion nor was there any sound. It was as if the craft were staying still and the city moving as they rose some hundred feet before accelerating horizontally. "You'll be instructed how to call and use these air taxis very soon," Arak said. "You'll have plenty of time to explore."
Several heads nodded. The
Benthic Explorer
team was overwhelmed by everything they were seeing.
They seemed to be cruising through the center of a bustling metropolis with countless people going about their business and thousands of other air taxis zipping in every direction. For Suzanne, this world seemed full of strange contradictions. The city and the advanced technology seemed so futuristic yet the trees and vegetation had a hauntingly prehistoric aspect. The flora reminded her of what had flourished during the Carboniferous period three hundred million years ago. Soon the shiny black basalt multistoried buildings gave way to a less dense, apparently residential area with grass, trees, and pools of water. The crowds of people disappeared as did the swarms of air taxis. Now there were only individual people or small groups walking in the parks. Many were accompanied by curious-looking pets that Suzanne thought were a chimeric combination of dog, cat, and monkey. The scenery began to slow as they approached a magnificent walled palace compound. It was dominated by a large, central, domed structure supported by fluted black Doric columns. Sprinkled around the enclosure were numerous other smaller buildings oval in shape and constructed of the familiar polished black basalt. Walkways snaked through crystal pools, expanses of lawn, and patches of luxurious ferns.
The air taxi stopped its horizontal movement and rapidly descended. A moment later the port opened as silently and as mysteriously as it had before. "Dr. Newell," Sufa said. "This will be your cottage. If you wouldn't mind, please disembark. I will accompany you to be sure you are comfortable." She gestured toward the exit. A flustered Suzanne glanced from Sufa to Donald. She had not expected to be separated from the group, and she was well aware Donald felt they should remain together. "What about the others?" Suzanne asked. She tried to read Donald's expression, but couldn't tell what he wanted her to do.
"Arak will see to their accommodation," Sufa said. "Each will have his own bungalow." "We were hoping to stay together," Suzanne said. "But you will," Arak said. "This palace and its grounds are just for you visitors. You'll take your meals together and if you want to double up in the lodges for your sleeping arrangements, that is up to you." Suzanne's and Donald's eyes met. Donald shrugged. Assuming that left the decision up to her, she climbed out of the hovercraft. Sufa followed. A moment later the saucer silently moved across the lawn to stop at a neighboring cottage.
"Come on!" Sufa encouraged. She'd started up the walkway but had turned back when she was aware that Suzanne wasn't behind her.
Suzanne took her eyes off the hovercraft and hurried to catch up with her host. "You will be meeting up with your friends for a meal shortly," Sufa said. "I just want to be certain your accommodations are acceptable. Besides, I thought you'd like to take a quick refreshing swim before eating. That was my first wish when I emerged from the decon experience."