The only thing the cabin didn’t have that a cruise ship would was patio doors leading to a balcony. Instead, it had small windows as if to disguise the true nature of what the Colossus 3 was hiding on the inside.
Linda went to the closest window and ran her hands over it.
“It’s barely big enough,” she said. “Even without the tank and cooling pump.”
They’d never get through without removing their bulky equipment.
“Eric,” Juan sai
d, “we’re on the starboard side of the ship, one level down. We’re going to have to go through a window without our air or coolant. How close can you get?”
“Hold on,” came the reply. Then a powerful light illuminated the window. “I see you. But I can’t get too close or we might get tangled with the ropes of the lifeboat davits.”
“Get right above us.” Then Juan asked Linda, “Ready?”
She nodded. “It’s better than being the frog in a slowly boiling pot of water.”
“The water outside is probably hotter than the water in here, so we don’t want to break the window until we’re ready to leave. We’ll take off the air tanks but keep the masks on until we have to go. Detach my coolant hoses from the suit.”
As soon as she unplugged them, the water around him instantly felt twenty degrees warmer.
He shrugged off the tank and pump. Then he disconnected Linda’s cooling unit, and she took off the equipment.
“All set?” Juan asked.
“I’m burning up. Let’s go.”
He rammed the fire extinguisher against the window. It cracked but didn’t break. He tried twice more before it shattered. He used his pry bar to clear the glass.
“Go,” he said. Linda took one last breath, detached the hose from her mask, and wriggled through.
Juan was getting light-headed. He remembered that he was supposed to take something else with him that was important. What was it?
He looked down and saw the mesh bag holding the books. That’s what it was. He picked it up and it felt like it was packed with lead.
He took a few deep breaths and unplugged his mask.
Squeezing through the window while carrying the sack required all of his rapidly draining strength. When he was finally free of the ship, he saw Linda’s silhouette floating above him in Nomad’s light.
He swam to her and saw that her eyes were barely open.
He shook her shoulder to keep her from passing out, but that’s exactly what he felt like doing. His limbs were like jelly, and he suddenly realized he was no longer holding the bag. It had slipped out of his grip. He looked down, but it was lost somewhere among the ropes of the lifeboat davits.
Every stroke toward the waiting Nomad was a chore, but he didn’t let go of Linda. She was feebly kicking, and the combination of heat and lack of air was about to render her unconscious.
He spotted the flashing light next to the open air lock door on the bottom of the sub and willed himself to reach it. He pushed Linda into the small space and followed her in.
His muscles were aching, but he forced himself to drive through the pain and pull the hatch closed. When the light was green, he slammed his hand into the button that would purge the water.
Then he blacked out.
When he came to, he found himself lying on Nomad’s floor covered with cold packs. He tried to sit up, but Julia pushed him back down.
“Linda,” he croaked.
“She’s all right.” She pointed at Linda lying next to him. She was also buried in the cold packs. Her eyes were blinking.
“I’m never getting in a Jacuzzi again,” she said.