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"Stepfather?" Fiona called again, but they heard only the movement of the water as it settled into a large puddle on the floor. Without bothering to take off their helmets, the four children splashed through the water and hurried down the hallway, past the plaque with the captain's personal philosophy engraved on it, until they reached the Main Hall.
The room was just as enormous as ever, of course, with all of the bewildering pipes, panels, and warning signs, although it seemed as if the place had been tidied up a bit, and there was now a tiny hit of decoration near the wooden table where the Baudelaires had eaten Sonny's chowder and planned their journey through the Gorgonian Grotto. Tied to three chairs were small blue balloons that hovered in the air, and each balloon had a letter printed on its surface in thick, black ink. The first balloon read "V," the second read "F," and only someone as dim as an underwater cave would be surprised to hear that the third read "D."
"V.F.D.," Violet said. "Do you think it's a code?"
"I'm not interested in codes at the moment," Fiona said, her voice tense and echoey inside her helmet. "I want to find my crewmates. Look around, everyone."
The Baudelaires looked around the room, but it seemed as empty and lonely as the grotto. Without the enormous presence of Captain Widdershins – "enormous presence" is a phrase which here means "large physical size, combined with a vibrant personality and loud voice" – the Main Hall seemed utterly deserted.
"Maybe they're in the kitchen," Klaus said, although it sounded like he didn't believe it himself, "or napping in the barracks."
"They wouldn't have napped," Violet said. "They said they'd be watching us the entire time."
Fiona took a step toward the door to the kitchen, but then stopped and looked at the wooden table. "Their helmets are gone," she said. "Both Phil and my stepfather were keeping their diving helmets on the table, in case of an emergency." She ran her hand along the table, as if she could make the helmets reappear. "They're gone," she said. "They've left the Queequeg."
"I can't believe that," Klaus said, shaking his head. "They knew we were traveling through the grotto. They wouldn't abandon their fellow volunteers."
"Maybe they thought we weren't coming back," Fiona said.
"No," Violet said, pointing to a panel on the wall. "They could see us. We were tiny green dots on the sonar detector."
The children looked at the sonar panel, hoping to see dots that might represent their missing crewmates.
"They must have had a very good reason to leave," Fiona said.
"What reason could there be?" Klaus said. "No matter what occurred, they would have waited for us."
"No," Fiona said. Sadly, she removed her diving helmet, and the middle Baudelaire saw she had tears in her eves. "No matter what occurred," she said, "my stepfather wouldn't have hesitated. He or she who hesitates is..."
"Lost," Klaus finished for her, and put his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe they didn't go of their own volition," Violet said, using a phrase which here means "by choice."
"Maybe somebody took them."
"Took the crew away," Klaus said, "and left behind three balloons?"
"It's a mystery," Violet said, "but I'm sure it's one we can solve. Let's just take off our helmets, and we can get to work."
Klaus nodded, and removed his diving helmet, putting it down on the floor next to Fiona's. Violet removed hers, and then went to open the tiny door of Sunny's helmet, so the youngest Baudelaire could uncurl herself from the small, enclosed space and join her siblings. But Fiona grabbed Violet's hand before it reached the helmet, and stopped her, pointing through the small round window in Sunny's helmet.
There are many things in this world that are difficult to see. An ice cube in a glass of water, for instance, might pass unnoticed, particularly if the ice cube is small, and the glass of water is ten miles in diameter. A short woman might be difficult to see on a crowded city street, particularly if she has disguised herself as a mailbox, and people keep putting letters in her mouth. And a small, ceramic bowl, with a tight-fitting lid to keep something important inside, might be difficult to find in the laundry room of an enormous hotel, particularly if there were a terrible villain nearby, making you feel nervous and distracted. But there are also things that are difficult to see not because of the size of their surroundings, or a clever disguise, or a treacherous person with a book of matches in his pocket and a fiendish plot in his brain, but because the things are so upsetting to look at, so distressing to believe, that it is as if your eyes refuse to see what is right in front of them. You can glance into a mirror, and not see how old you are growing, or how unattractive your hairstyle has become, until someone kindly points those things out to you. You can gaze upon a place you once lived, and not see how sinister the neighborhood has become, until you walk a few paces to an ice-cream store and notice that your favorite flavor has been discontinued. And you can stare into the small, round window of a diving helmet, as Violet and Klaus did at that moment, and not see the stalks and caps of a terrible gray fungus growing poisonously on the glass, until someone utters its scientific name in a horrified whisper.
"It's the Medusoid Mycelium," Fiona said, and the two elder Baudelaires blinked and saw that it was so.
"Oh no," Violet murmured. "Oh no!"
"Get her out!" Klaus cried. "Get Sunny out at once, or she'll be poisoned!"
"No!" Fiona said, and snatched the helmet away from the siblings. She put it down on the table as if it were a tureen, a word which here means "a wide, deep dish used for serving stew or soup, instead of a small, terrified girl curled up in a piece of deep-sea equipment."
"The diving helmet can serve as quarantine. If we open it, the fungus will spread. The entire submarine could become a field of mushrooms."
"We can't leave our sister in there!" Violet cried. "The spores will poison her!"
"She's probably been poisoned already," Fiona said quietly. "In a small, enclosed space like that helmet, there's no way she could escape."
"That can't be true," Klaus said, taking off his glasses as if refusing to see the horror of their situation. But at that moment their predicament became perfectly clear, as the children heard a small, eerie sound come from the helmet. It reminded Violet and Klaus of the fish of the Stricken Stream, struggling to breathe in the ashy, black waters. Sunny was coughing. "Sunny!" Klaus shouted into the helmet.
"Malady," Sunny said, which meant "I'm beginning to feel unwell."
"Don't talk, Sunny!" Fiona called through the tiny window of the helmet, and turned to the elder Baudelaires. "The mycelium has destructive respiratory capabilities," the mycologist explained, walking over to the sideboard. "That's what it said in that letter. Your sister should save her breath. The spores will make it more and more difficult for Sunny to talk, and she'll probably start coughing as the fungus grows inside her. In an hour's time, she won't be able to breathe. It would be fascinating if it weren't so horrible."
"Fascinating?" Violet covered her mouth with her hands and shut her eyes, trying not to imagine what her terrified sister was feeling. "What can we do?" she asked.
"We can make an antidote," Fiona said. "There must be some useful information in my mycological library."
"I'll help," Klaus said. "I'm sure I'll find the books difficult to read, but –"
"No," Fiona said. "I need to be alone to do my research. You and Violet should climb that rope ladder and fire up the engines so we can get out of this cave."
"But we should all do the research!" Violet cried. "We only have one hour, or maybe even less! If the mushrooms grew while we swam back to the Queequeg, then –"
"Then we certainly don't have time to argue," Fiona finished, opening the cabinet and removing a large pile of books. "I order you to leave me alone, so I can do this research and save your sister!"
The elder Baudelaires looked at one another, and then at the diving helmet on the table. "You order us?" Klaus asked.
