“The bends only happen if you’ve been breathing air under pressure. Antoine’s not been breathing for weeks, right? So no risk. Trust me, this is the easiest way.”
Cally shuddered at the reminder, unable to look away from his box. “All right.”
Brent wedged his suit against Antoine’s box then powered his thrusters, pushing it out of the silt. A cloud engulfed both him and the box. “Give me a minute. Getting this on is fiddly.”
Was Antoine aware of what was happening? Could he hear them? He was alive in there, but the sun would be up by now.Would he be asleep? That would make it easier.Please let him be asleep.
Then, from within the box, came the scrape of metal on metal.
“Did you hear that?” Brent asked.
She had. “He’s awake.” Could Antoine hear them? Was his vampiric hearing enough to catch her words, even through her suit? “Hang on, Antoine. We’re getting you out.”
“He’s feral, Cally,” Brent said, his voice flat through her speakers. “Even if he can hear you, all you’ll do is make him crazy.”
A faint thud as Antoine shifted, then another in close succession, like he was thrashing within. Cally stilled, listening, eyes prickling with tears as the muted clinks continued.
“All right, I’m done,” Brent said at last. Antoine’s box now had straps around both ends, bright orange sacks floating limply in the water. “Now we need to inflate these evenly, otherwise he’s going to tilt and risk slipping free.”
“We?”
“I mean me.”
“How are you going to manage that by yourself?”
“Well…” Brent fell quiet, but the problem was obvious.
“This is a two-person job, isn’t it?”
“Normally? Yeah.”
“So tell me what I need to do.”
“What you need is hours of training working that manipulator arm. What youdon’tneed is to mess with this now, and risk tearing one of these bags with your claw.”
He was right. He was also stubborn. “Can you do it alone? Yes or no.”
“Yes. Probably.”
“We get one shot at this, Brent.”
“Then I better get it right, hadn’t I?” His exosuit moved up to the first bag, the pincer claw extending to grip the valve. “Here we go.”
He twisted the first valve, then glided toward the second. The first swelled, dragging the ropes tight as the box tilted upward.
“Come on, come on,” Brent muttered, fumbling for the next valve. The second sack began to fill, but too slowly. The ropes were slipping.
“Let me help.” Cally was already maneuvering above the box.
“No, just—”
“I won’t touch the valves.”
“If you damage that bag, we’re fucked.”
“I know, damn it. Let me concentrate.” Cally angled her suit over the rising end of the box, nudged her joystick, and pressed one leg onto the box, pushing it down.
“That actually worked,” Brent said, surprise carrying through the tinny speakers.
