Across the Sea, Somewhere

Adelaide watched for an hour before it actually appeared.

She’d known when to expect to see something, roughly. The course that Percy and the Captain had worked on together called for them to approach the first node at 2:15, and there hadn’t been anything that slowed their progress materially. But Adelaide hadn’t wanted to miss anything, so she’d arrived an hour before the node was expected to cross their horizon.

And then she’d spent the whole time vaguely anxious, because there was no guarantee that there would actually be anything visible where the node was. As Captain Mattson had pointed out, it could just be a completely blank spot in the middle of the ocean. And, from a research perspective, that would be fine. Even economically, it would be ok; they had time now to detour to some island and grab whatever seemed valuable. But Adelaide still felt like a kid waiting for a package in the mail, a little knot in her stomach twisting at the idea of sailing uneventfully across an unremarkable bit of sea.

And then, just on schedule, she saw it.

At first, it looked like a really small island. Like not quite a New Yorker cartoon with just one palm tree, but still small enough to be easily taken in at one glance. Adelaide felt that she could probably walk the entire perimeter in about 45 minutes. Although it did look like she’d need some really good boots — it looked weirdly steep. And it appeared to be all rock, with some prominent dark spots that could have been metal.

As she studied it, she noticed some birds approaching the island in slow spirals. This was a strange place for them — there certainly weren’t any trees on the little scrap of land that could support a nest, and it was hard to imagine there was much hunting to be done. Although, now that Adelaide thought about it, weren’t there sea birds that laid their eggs on the edges of cliff faces or something like that? She felt like she had a memory of seeing that on a documentary, but couldn’t remember why the birds would want to nest there. Not that it really mattered — this was some new species, and they could lay their eggs right on the rock if that was what they had evolved to do.

Ray walked up next to her. “So that’s your node thing?”

“Looks like it. Well, the node is actually just a point in space, but it looks like the point in space is somewhere on that little island.”

Ray reached out his hand, and Adelaide gave him the periscope she’d borrowed from Mattson. She’d already added one of those to her shopping list for when they returned. Although there were probably a lot of different options on the market — ideally, she’d like something that could record bits of video, just to have little mementos of the experience.

Ray interrupted her thoughts by saying, “Did you see those birds?”

“Yeah. I was wondering why they’d want to land there. Doesn’t look like there’s much to eat.”

“Take a closer look. They aren’t landing.”

Adelaide took the spyglass back and peered at the surface of the little island. It took a minute to reorient her perspective, but then she saw it. The darker parts of the island’s surface weren’t actually the surface at all — they were tunnels. Even as she watched, one of the birds tucked its wings and dove down into the island, presumably entering one of the tunnels on the top of the hill, although she couldn’t see which one. They were still too distant for Adelaide to get a sense of what the birds looked like, even with the spyglass. But she didn;t see the birds emerge - whatever they wanted down there, they were taking their time getting it.

“That’s wild. What kind of weather or erosion would carve tunnels like that? And why would those birds want to go in there?”

“How close to these node things do you need to get?”

“The closer the better. Why?”

“Because I have a weird suspicion we’re going to be finding out what’s in those tunnels for ourselves.”

***

As they approached, Adelaide tried to distract herself from what she was realizing she was going to do by thinking about how she could have avoided this situation altogether.

There were the obvious things, like not developing a professional interest in the Triangle, never pursuing this line of research, or never pitching this project to Mr. Winfield. Or she could have made any tiny change that would have affected the raw randomness that had led her to this Sea. Or she could have chosen a different node to visit.

Or she could have decided the data they already had was enough. She’d checked with Percy first, to make sure she understood the importance of proximity for the data collection. And he’d been exactly as mathematical and unhelpful as she’d expected: closer was better because it increased the odds that what they collected would contain what they needed. But there was no way to know what the odds were from what distance or if the extra bit of data from getting one foot closer was actually worth whatever risks might be involved.

Instead of the excuse she wanted, Percy had given her the little device that was now strapped to her wrist. He’d told her that it would point her in the direction of the Node’s calculated location, and Adelaide had asked how he’d managed to get something so small to detect deresonance. And then he’d given her a long look and quietly handed her the big backpack that held the Deresonance Detector and told her that she shouldn’t take any risks that jeopardized the device. It was unclear if he was concerned about any risks to her personally.

But, even then, she didn’t have to go. She could have just said it was fine to take the data they had. She hadn’t needed to ask for Grant to drive a dinghy to take her closer, and she hadn’t needed to get in it. She had been touched that Ray insisted on coming and brought Jim, and not entirely surprised that Alessio volunteered to join them: it did seem like it would be good content. But she could have called it off at any time.

And she didn’t need to do what she was about to do.

Because, as they’d gotten closer, she’d gotten a clearer sense of the texture of what they were approaching. And it was harder and harder to pretend that it was made of rock or dirt or anything like that. Or even coral — coral would have been fine. But she recognized this texture, the way that there were little pores, the recurring patterns, and she was just waiting, because eventually someone was going to say that —

“It looks like a beehive,” Alessio whispered.

And here it was, the moment when she could so easily say, “I was thinking the same thing, seems like we should turn around, thanks for coming with me.” Literally no one would blame her, and it probably wouldn’t even undermine the data collection much. That would be it, they’d get back on the Strider and be off, and it would all be fine.

But she somehow had known the whole time she was going to wind up saying, “I think you’re right, but I’m going in there anyway.”

Nobody responded, and there was yet another opportunity to change her mind. But, instead, Adelaide continued, “None of you need to come with me.”

Ray just rolled his eyes at that. Alessio, however, seemed to be considering it. “I don’t think I’ve really seen any insects, have you? Do we have any reason to think anything actually lives in there?”

“Ray and I saw some bird dive into it, so I assume that thing wanted to hunt. But no, we don’t really know.”

“And why exactly do you want to go in there?”

“I need to — it’s a bit technical, but I need to collect some readings from somewhere in there.”

“But you don’t know what we’ll find in there and you can’t explain why the readings matter?”

“Well-”

Jim interrupted. “Kid, that’s how this goes. You go out here, you see wild things. You never know what’s coming - we’re lucky to know this is sketchy ahead of time. You need to find your own reason why this matters to you, and if you don’t, you shouldn’t come out to Sea.”

Alessio rolled his eyes. “I never said I wasn’t coming. I’m just trying to get the whole story, like always. But, yeah, of course I need to know what’s in there.”

Ray looked at Grant and said, “You need to stay out here — we’re all screwed if the boat capsizes while we’re inside. But, Professor, the rest of us are with you as far as you need to go. Let’s just hope we find our way out.”

***

Adelaide took a deep breath and, unable to think of more ways to procrastinate, reached up to touch the hive itself. The texture was surprising — she had expected it to be sort of porous, like styrofoam, but it was hard and unyielding. It was also oddly warm — not burning but noticeable, like a countertop that had had a tray of cookies cooling on it. It made it much harder to think of it as natural, but Adelaide reminded herself that nothing out here was artificial beyond what they’d brought with them.

Adelaide managed to pull herself into the small tunnel without tipping the dinghy over, which she quietly regarded as a serious achievement. Jim and Ray approached quickly behind her, and Alessio managed to make the climb while holding his camera out in front of him. He did a full rotation before entering and then pulled out a red-tinted lamp that he snapped into his phone. With that light, Adelaide could see farther into the tunnel, which appeared to branch a few meters away. She looked back over her shoulder at her crewmates.

“Anyone bring any breadcrumbs? This place may not be that big, but I still don’t love the idea of getting lost.”

Alessio raised a hand. “I’m recording, so we can look back at the tape if we need to.”

“Good point. And I guess the light from the outside might help.”

Jim pulled out a glowstick. “I have a few of these. Think of them as breadcrumbs that light up. Should help.”

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Ok, let’s get going — and if anyone sees anything interesting, let everyone know. Same goes for anything dangerous.”

As she crawled, her eyes began to adjust to the light and Adelaide noticed that the walls were scratched and rough. That seemed odd — why would there be anything routinely entering or exiting that was too big for the tunnel? Maybe it was something intentionally making the marks — something sharpening its claws on the walls. Adelaide decided to keep that image to herself.

When they rounded the first corner, Adelaide was pleased to see that the path back was clear from the light streaming in. But, before she could say anything encouraging, she started to hear a sound, a rhythmic pattern of wind rushing against the walls of the tunnel. Everyone heard it too, and froze, although Ray and Jim were reaching for their holsters. But there was nothing to see, and then the sound stopped.

“Don’t worry, Professor,” Ray said after a moment. “There’s no reason to turn back. It’s just a sound, and, anyway, we don’t know whether it's behind us already.”

Adelaide didn’t respond, but she resumed progress. She worried that the directional device would prove useless, but the passage wasn’t the labyrinth she’d expected. There wasn’t anything like an anthill’s branching corridors or a termite nest’s incomprehensible whorls. This was one path, rough on the edges, that made some turns but mostly moved in one direction. And, strangely, it was the direction she wanted to go. Or that she needed to go — the direction she wanted to go was behind her, she kept reminding herself.

The rhythmic sound and the rush of air repeated itself, but the group still didn’t see any obvious source. In fact, they hadn’t seen anything alive at all. Adelaide eventually began to wonder if there was anything left alive here, if the birds were circling and diving because there was some sort of simple food source, either vegetable or the carcasses of some past colony. She did eventually begin to hear some cries and caws, but she told herself they could be the scavenging birds they’d observed.

After a few minutes, Adelaide realized she’d have answers soon, based on three indicators. First, the tracer suggested she was getting quite close; second, the sounds were getting closer; and, third, she was beginning to see light ahead of her

And so, when they reached the end of the tunnel and the sunlight hit her eyes, she was expecting it. She wasn’t shocked until she saw what was already in there.