Perry, Richard, and Michael were off to the side, keeping Sufa, Ismael, and Mary under close guard. Michael was still in his Greek armor, refusing steadfastly to give it up. Harvey was in the passenger portion of the antigravity freighter, which was carrying the Oceanus as its payload. He was ready to direct the craft into the decon chamber behind the great doors.

“That looks familiar,” Donald said as he caught sight of the stainless steel interior. “It reminds me of the room where we had our unsolicited bath on our way into Interterra.”

A sudden rumble shook the ground, causing everyone to struggle with their balance. It lasted four or five seconds.

“What the hell was that?” Perry demanded.

Harvey poked his head out of the freighter. “We’d better hurry,” he called. “They must be opening a geothermal shaft.”

“What would that do?” Donald yelled back.

“Seal the exit vent,” Harvey shouted.

“Come on, Arak!” Donald growled. “Speed this process up.”

“I can’t do any more than I’m doing,” Arak said. “Besides, Harvey is right, there won’t be enough time. The port is going to be disabled.”

“We’re not giving up after coming this far,” Donald warned. “In fifteen minutes Sufa’s going to be shot if we’re not out of here.”

Another short vibration rumbled through the ground, signifying that the monstrous pressure doors were fully open.

“Now it’s up to you,” Arak said. He waved to Harvey to bring in the freighter. “When the inner door opens, power into the launch and retrieval chamber. When that floods and the launch doors are open you’re free to ascend the vent.”

“That’s not the way it is going to happen,” Donald said. “You’re going all the way, Arak. You and Sufa.”

“No!” Arak cried. “No, please! We can’t. I’ve done what you’ve asked, and we cannot be exposed to the atmosphere without adaptation. We’ll die.”

“I’m not asking,” Donald said. “I’m ordering.”

Arak started to protest. Donald responded by pistol-whipping him across the face. Arak screamed and slapped his hands to his face. Blood oozed out between his fingers. Donald pushed him into the stainless steel room.

The freighter responded to Harvey’s commands, effortlessly gliding into the decon chamber.

“Come on, you guys,” Donald called to Perry and Richard. “Bring Sufa but leave the others.”

As soon as everyone was inside, Donald pulled Arak away from Sufa, who was trying to comfort him. The man’s right eye was deeply purple and swollen.

“Get this outer door closed and the inner one open, Arak,” Donald ordered.

Arak mumbled into his wrist communicator and the big doors began to close. Another rumble, signaling a second earthquake, echoed through the room; it lasted slightly longer than the first.

“Come on, Arak,” Donald warned. “Speed this up!”

“I told you I can’t,” Arak cried.

“Richard,” Donald called. “Get over here with one of your knives and cut off one of Sufa’s fingers.”

“No, wait!” Arak sobbed. “I’ll do what I can.”

Arak spoke into his wrist unit and the swing of the great doors quickened.

“That’s much better,” Donald said. “Much better indeed.”

The whole room shook for a moment with the concussion of the doors sealing. Almost simultaneously, inner doors of equal size began to swing open. Beyond was a huge black cavern similar to the one in which the secondary humans had found themselves on their way into Interterra. It had the same briny odor, no doubt from having been filled with salt water long ago.

As soon as the inner door was fully open, Harvey directed the freighter to carry the submersible within. The others ran after it but were impeded by the mud.

“Damn,” Perry said. “I forgot about this part.”

“Get those inner doors closed!” Donald yelled to Arak as they caught up to the freighter. His voice echoed. He handed the gun to Perry. “We need lights. I’m going inside the submersible.”

“Okay,” Perry said. He slipped his index finger around the trigger. It gave him a strange feeling. He’d never held a handgun, much less shot one.

As Donald ascended the submersible’s rungs another earthquake hit. He had to hold on to keep from being flung off. In the distance a sputtering sound heralded a geyser of lava.

“Shit!” Richard exclaimed. “We’re in a goddamn volcano.”

As soon as the latest tremor stopped, Donald scampered the rest of the way up the ladder and disappeared inside the Oceanus. A moment later the exterior lights came on. It was none too soon; the inner doors were nearing their jambs. Once they were shut the only light sources would be the submersible and the fountain of lava in the distance. It was growing by the second.

Donald’s head popped out of the submersible. “Let’s go, everybody,” he said. “Power’s up and life support’s on. We’re ready to button up.”

Arak and Sufa were ordered to climb into the submersible followed by Harvey, Perry, and Michael. Michael finally had to take off the breastplate in order to get down the hatch. Richard was the last in. As he closed the hatch, he saw a surge of water begin to fill the cavern. He also heard popping noises as the water collided with lava to form steam.

When Richard climbed down the ladder into the submersible, Donald told him to take a seat: he didn’t have any idea how much buffeting they would experience as the cavern filled. A few minutes later the Oceanus was bouncing around like a cork. Everyone held on for dear life.

“What are we supposed to do at this point?” Donald yelled to Arak.

“Nothing,” Arak said. “The water will carry the ship up the vent.”

“So does this mean that we’ve made it?” Donald asked.

“I guess you made it,” Arak responded sullenly. He reached over and gripped Sufa’s hand.

Ala slowly lowered her arm. She’d had an ear to her wrist communicator. Although she’d been visibly upset at the word of Sart and Mura’s murders, her expression was again tranquil. In a calm voice she announced, “The Barsama vent was not sealed in time. The submersible has left the lock and is now in open ocean heading due west.”

“And the hostages?” Ponu queried.

“Only two are on board,” Ala said. “Arak and Sufa are still with the secondary humans. Ismael and Mary were left behind and are safe.”

“Excuse me,” Suzanne said, trying to get her attention. What she was hearing seemed impossible. With all the powers and technology she’d imagined the Interterrans to have at their disposal, her erstwhile colleagues had apparently gotten away!

“I believe we must now deal directly with these people,” Ala said, continuing to ignore Suzanne. “Too much is at stake.”

“I think we should send them back and be over with this problem,” one of the elders to Suzanne’s left said. Suzanne swung around to face the woman. In contrast to the speaker of the council, this elder appeared to be in her midtwenties.

“What do you mean send them back?” Suzanne asked incredulously. She felt that, with such a simple solution possible, it was no wonder none of the elders appeared particularly distraught by the developments.

“I agree we must send them back,” an elder on the opposite side of the room said, disregarding Suzanne. Suzanne turned to look at the speaker, a boy of five or six.

“Do we have general agreement?” Ala asked.

A murmur of assent rose up from all the elders.

“So be it,” Ala said. “We’ll send out a clone in a small intergalactic ship.”

“Tell them to use the lowest power possible on the grid,” Ponu said as Ala spoke briefly into her wrist communicator.

“Such an unfortunate episode,” one of the other elders said. “It is a tragedy, indeed.”

“They aren’t going to be hurt, are they?” Suzanne asked. She refused to give up and, to her surprise, Ala finally responded to this question.

“Are you asking about your friends?” Ala asked.