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第51部分（第3页）

〃It　wont　do　any　good。〃

〃Beth；〃　he　said。　〃e　on；　now。。。　。〃

〃I　cant　do　it；　Norman。〃

〃Of　course　you　can。　Open　the　hatch；　Beth。〃

〃You　shouldnt　have　e　back；　Norman。〃

There　was　no　time　for　this　now。　〃Beth；　pull　yourself　together。　Open　the　hatch。〃

〃No；　Norman；　I　cant。〃

And　she　began　crying　again。

He　tried　all　the　hatches；　one　after　another。　B　Cyl；　locked。　C　Cyl；　locked。　D　Cyl；　locked。

〃Your　attention；　please。　Thirteen　minutes　and　counting。〃　He　was　standing　by　E　Cyl；　which　had　been　flooded　in　an　earlier　attack。　He　saw　the　gaping；　jagged　tear　in　the　outer　cylinder　surface。　The　hole　was　large　enough　for　him　to　climb　through；　but　the　edges　were　sharp；　and　if　he　tore　his　suit　。。。

＇＇349＇＇　No；　he　decided。　It　was　too　risky。　He　moved　beneath　E　Cyl。　Was　there　a　hatch？

He　found　a　hatch；　spun　the　wheel。　It　opened　easily。　He　pushed　the　circular　lid　upward；　heard　it　clang　against　the　inner　wall。

〃Norman？　Is　that　you？〃

He　hauled　himself　up；　into　E　Cyl。　He　was　panting　from　the　exertion；　on　his　hands　and　knees　on　the　deck　of　E　Cyl。　He　shut　the　hatch　and　locked　it　again；　then　took　a　moment　to　get　his　breath。

〃Your　attention；　please。　Twelve　minutes　and　counting。〃

Jesus；　he　thought。　Already？

Something　white　drifted　past　his　faceplate；　startling　him。　He　pulled　back；　realized　it　was　a　box　of　corn　flakes。　When　he　touched　it；　the　cardboard　disintegrated　in　his　hands；　the　flakes　like　yellow　snow。

He　was　in　the　kitchen。　Beyond　the　stove　he　saw　another　hatch；　leading　to　D　Cyl。　D　Cyl　was　not　flooded；　which　meant　that　he　must　somehow　pressurize　E　Cyl。

He　looked　up；　saw　an　overhead　bulkhead　hatch；　leading　to　the　living　room　with　the　gaping　tear。　He　climbed　up　quickly。　He　needed　to　find　gas；　some　kind　of　tanks。　The　living　room　was　dark；　except　for　the　reflected　light　from　the　floodlights；　which　filtered　in　through　the　tear。　Cushions　and　padding　floated　in　the　water。　Something　touched　him　and　he　spun　and　saw　dark　hair　streaming　around　a　face；　and　as　the　hair　moved　he　saw　part　of　the　face　was　missing；　torn　away　grotesquely。

Tina。

Norman　shuddered；　pushed　her　body　away。　It　drifted　off；　moving　upward。

〃Your　attention；　please。　Eleven　minutes　and　counting。〃　It　was　all　happening　too　fast；　he　thought。　There　was　hardly　enough　time　left。　He　needed　to　be　inside　the　habitat　now。　No　tanks　in　the　living　room。　He　climbed　back　down　to　the　kitchen；　shutting　the　hatch　above。　He　looked　at　the　stove；　the　ovens。　He　opened　the　oven　door；　and　a　burst　of　gas　bubbled　out。　Air　trapped　in　the　oven。

But　that　couldnt　be　right；　he　thought；　because　gas　was　still　＇＇350＇＇　ing　out。　A　trickle　of　bubbles　continued　to　e　from　the　open　oven。

A　steady　trickle。

What　had　Barnes　said　about　cooking　under　pressure？　There　was　something　unusual　about　it；　he　couldnt　remember　exactly。　Did　they　use　gas？　Yes；　but　they　also　needed　more　oxygen。　That　meant

He　pulled　the　stove　away　from　the　wall；　grunting　with　exertion；　and　then　he　found　it。　A　squat　bottle　of　propane；　and　two　large　blue　tanks。

Oxygen　tanks。

He　twisted　the　Y…valves；　his　gloved　fingers　clumsy。　Gas　began　to　roar　out。　The　bubbles　rushed　up　to　the　ceiling；　where　the　gas　was　trapped；　the　big　air　bubble　that　was　forming。

He　opened　the　second　oxygen　tank。　The　water　level　fell　rapidly；　to　his　waist；　then　his　knees。　Then　it　stopped。　The　tanks　must　be　empty。　No　matter；　the　level　was　low　enough。

〃Your　attention；　please。　Ten　minutes　and　counting。〃　Norman　opened　the　bulkhead　door　to　D　Cyl；　an

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