“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Donald said. He pointed to a window to their left. “Perry, you and Michael climb through and come back out through the same one. We’ll either be working on the Oceanus or we’ll be waiting here in the shadows.”

“Do you think there’s an alarm system in the museum?” Perry questioned.

“Nah!” Richard said. “There’s no locks or alarms or any of that kind of stuff. Apparently nobody ever steals anything down here.”

“All right,” Perry said. “We’re off.”

“Good hunting,” Donald said. He waved as Perry and Michael ran hunched over to just below the window. Grunting and groaning, Perry boosted Michael up so he could get a grip on the sill. Once he was inside, he leaned back out and pulled Perry up. A moment later the two disappeared inside the building.

Donald redirected his attention to the submersible.

“Well, are we going over there or not?” Richard questioned.

“Let’s do it!” Donald said.

They kept low to the ground as they sprinted over to the minisubmarine. Donald lovingly patted its HY-140 steel hull. In the darkness its scarlet color was a dull gray although the white lettering on the sail stood out sharply. Donald made a slow inspection of the craft with Richard close on his heels. He was impressed with the Interterran repairs; the outside lights and the manipulator arm that had been destroyed in the plunge down the vent shaft looked completely normal.

“It looks perfect,” Donald said. “All we have to do is get it into the ocean and we’re home free.”

“None too soon for me,” Richard said.

Donald went to an outside toolbox, opened it, and took out several wrenches. He handed them to Richard.

“Start with the starboard side camcorder,” he said. “Just detach it from its housing. I’m going below to check out the battery level. If we don’t have power, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Roger,” Richard said.

Donald climbed the familiar rungs, rapidly ascending to the ship’s hatch. He was mildly surprised to find it undogged and slightly ajar. Grabbing it with two hands he raised it all the way. After one last visual sweep around the area, he lowered himself into the opening and clambered down into absolute darkness.

Once Donald had reached the deck, he moved forward by feel. He was so familiar with the craft, he could literally move around inside with his eyes closed, or so he thought until he tripped over the two books Suzanne had brought along to impress Perry. Donald cursed less for the tripping than for striking his hand against the back of one of the passenger seats while trying to maintain his balance. At least he didn’t fall which could have been lethal in the tight quarters.

After rubbing his hand to dispel the pain, he inched forward. As he neared the dive station a bit of light filtered in through the four view ports, making his progress easier. Careful not to hit his head on any of the protruding instrumentation, Donald lowered himself into the pilot seat. Outside he could hear Richard clanking against the hull with the wrench.

The first thing Donald did was switch on the instrument lights. Then, with trepidation, he allowed his eyes to move over to the battery level indicator. He sighed with relief. There was plenty of power. Then, as he was about to check gas pressures, he froze. A noise coming from behind him told him that he was not alone. Someone besides himself was inside the submersible.

At first Donald held his breath, straining to listen. Cold sweat appeared along his hairline. Seconds passed, though it seemed like hours, but the noise did not repeat itself. Just when Donald began to wonder if his imagination had misinterpreted the sounds of Richard removing the camcorder, a voice came out of the darkness. “Is that you, Mr. Fuller?”

Donald swung around. His eyes vainly tried to penetrate the darkness. “Yes,” he said with a voice that cracked. “Who’s here?”

“Harv Goldfarb. Remember me from Central Information?”

Donald relaxed and took a breath. “Of course,” he said irritably. “What the devil are you doing in here?”

Harvey inched forward. The lights from the instruments illuminated his deeply creased face. “You got me thinking today,” Harvey said. “You’re the first hope I’ve ever had for getting back. I was afraid you might forget me, so I thought I’d sleep in here.”

“Mr. Goldfarb, we can’t forget you,” Donald said. “We need you. Did you check out the TV cameras on the outside?”

“I did,” Harvey said. “I don’t think they’ll be a problem. What is it you are planning on transmitting?”

“We’re not sure at this stage,” Donald said. “Maybe you or us or even all of us.”

“Me?” Harvey questioned.

“Actually we only want the capability to transmit,” Donald said. “It’s the threat that’s important.”

“I’m getting the picture,” Harvey said. “They let you out because they’re afraid that I’ll expose Interterra over the airwaves.”

“Something like that,” Donald said.

“It won’t work,” Harvey said flatly.

“Why not?”

“Two reasons,” Harvey said. “First, they’d cut my power before they’d let you out. And second, I won’t do it.”

“But you said you’d help.”

“Yeah, and you said you’d take me to New York.”

“That’s true,” Donald admitted. “Actually we haven’t worked out any of the details.”

“Details, ha!” Harvey scoffed. “But listen. I live here. I can tell you how to get out. Many a night I’ve dreamed about escaping the monotony of all these interminably pleasant days.”

“We’re open to suggestions,” Donald said.

“I gotta be sure you’ll take me along,” Harvey said.

“We’ll be happy to include you,” Donald said. “What’s your idea?”

“Will this submarine work?” Harvey asked.

“That’s what I’m checking,” Donald said. “We’ve got plenty of power, so if we can get it out into the water, it will work.”

“Okay, now listen,” Harvey said. “Has your orientation gotten around to telling you that the Interterrans live forever? Not in the same body but in multiple bodies?”

“Yes,” Donald said. “We’ve already visited the death center and witnessed an extraction.”

“I’m impressed,” Harvey said. “They are moving you right along. So you understand that the process works only if they are extracted before death. In other words, it all has to be planned. You get what I’m saying?”

“I’m not sure,” Donald admitted.

“They have to be alive when the memory is extracted,” Harvey said. “Or more properly, their brains have to be functioning normally. If they die by violent means, the story’s over. That’s why they are so terrified of violence, and that’s why there hasn’t been any violence in Interterra for millions upon millions of years. They are incapable of it except by proxy.”

“So we threaten violence,” Donald said. “We already thought of that.”

“I’m talking about something more specific than just violence,” Harvey said. “You threaten death specifically. Death without any of their extraction nonsense unless they do what you want.”

“Aha!” Donald exclaimed. “Now I get you. You’re talking about taking hostages.”

“Correct!” Harvey said. “Two, four, as many as you can get, and not clones, because they don’t count. And a word of caution: the clones don’t mind violence. They do whatever they are told.”

“Slick!” Donald commented. “It’s a multiple threat built into one.”

“Correct,” Harvey said proudly. “And you don’t have to monkey around with this TV camera nonsense.”

“I like it,” Donald said. “How about you going out and telling Richard to hold up on removing the camcorder. I just want to check the gas pressures, and I’ll be right out.”

“You promise you’ll be taking me,” Harvey said.

“You’re going,” Donald said. “Stop worrying.”

“All right, hold up!” Perry ordered. “Either you know where you are going or you don’t. We’ve been wandering around in here like a couple of dopes for twenty minutes. Where are the goddamn weapons?”