Ben held onto the strap of the tank in one hand and the narrow sword in the other. He was soaring through the air like a parachutist who hadn't yet pulled the chord, speeding crazily toward the surface. Just before he hit the water he flung the tank away from him.
The water parted and closed quickly as he speared into the depths, then he slowed, and holding his breath, he kicked toward the surface. His head burst out of the lake. He spit water and sucked in a large breathe of air. He went under again and grabbed the tank as it was slowly floating toward the bottom. He came up holding the strap. He sheathed his sword.
Dahms' head popped through the surface of the water. "Yuk," she said spitting a mouthful. "It’s salty."
Just then Gaal shot through the surface like a bullet through a mirror, and then, as if in slow motion, he came to a stop and fell back toward the surface. His arms flailed outward and started flopping up and down to keep him from sinking into the depths. "Help me," he said rather urgently. There was calmness in his voice, but not in his eyes. "Help me. I can't swim."
"What the hell do you mean, you can't swim?" asked Sam who had just surfaced a few moments before.
Gaal's head disappeared beneath the water, but Ben could still see his eyes, which were wide open, and his mouth, which was turned down in a look of horror. His arms kept flopping up and down, but he wasn't making any progress.
Ben reached over, grabbed him by the chin, and pulled his head out of the water.
Sam was several feet away treading water. "What the hell do you mean, you can't swim?" he repeated.
Gaal coughed out a mouthful of water and took a deep breath. Then breathing easier, he said, "It's not like there are oceans and lakes on Ar where a family can take a picnic lunch and teach their kids to swim."
"Ever hear of the public swimming pool?"
“Yeah, for the rich.”
"Enough of this foolish banter," said Dahms. "Let's get to the wall and then we'll decide what we're going to do." She turned and started swimming.
Ben followed with Gaal in tow.
They reached the wall at the same time.
“Hang on to the wall,” said Ben as he let go of Gaal.
Sam was swimming slow and grimacing as he made his way toward them. “Last week,” he yelled out, “at this time I was happily at work, drinking coffee and punching numbers into a computer. Sure, I was part of the underground, and my thoughts were frequently on the overthrow of Hurd, a most despised man who has plunged the majority of the city population into poverty, and near starvation; and sure, I’ve taken chances in the past by smuggling arms and attending secret meetings in the underground rooms, and sure there have been many rebels who have been caught and either sent to the run or the pits; sure it can happen to others, but it can never happen to you—and then it does. And here I am.”
"Won’t do any good to complain" said Dahms, and then, as Sam grabbed hold of the wall, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
"What's wrong?" He glared balefully at the ceiling. "What's wrong?" He repeated. "We're in a city being run by a maniac. We're in a lake full of fish that want to eat us. And we have a friend who can't swim. And you ask me 'what's wrong?’"
"No. I mean what's wrong with your arm.”
"Oh. . . . Yeah, that too," said Sam. “I should have let go of the tank before I hit the water. The damn thing wrenched my shoulder, and it hurts like a bitch, but I’m going to pretend it didn’t happen. With three zones left it could mean my downfall.” He handed his tank to Gaal and grabbed the wall with his right hand. "Hold the tank while I strap it on my back." Sam slipped his good arm through one of the loops and then gingerly slipped his left arm through the other one. He grabbed the two straps, pulled them around his chest, and fastened the buckle.
Ben had taken classes and had scuba dived many times on his home planet. He hefted the tank above his head, slipped his arms through the straps, and let the tank slid down his back into place.
“Looks like you’re ready to go,” said Sam.
“Yeah,” replied Ben. “Can hardly contain myself.”
Dahms was holding the third tank as she held onto the wall. “I remember that certain species of sharks are extremely aggressive when attacking their prey. And I’m sure that Hurd chose the killers. So, can we swim underwater with those sharks?”
“No,” said Ben. “There must be another way.” He propped his elbows on the wall and pulled himself high enough that he could look into the water on the other side. “I don’t see anything except a lot of hungry sharks,” he said as he continued to watch. “We wouldn’t last a minute in there.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” said Dahms. “If this zone is anything like zone two, then there will be another way.”
Dahms told Gaal to turn around, then she helped him put his arms through the loops. He turned to face her and she buckled the straps. “You have to put this in your mouth, and when we're underwater I’ll be swimming next to you to help you along."
"I don’t think I can do it,” said Gaal. He didn’t look happy.
"Would you rather swim with the sharks," she said indicating the other side of the wall with a nod of her head.
"That would be impossible since I can't swim."
Sam sounded frustrated. "Look," he said, "the main difference between a good swimmer and a beginner is a good swimmer isn't afraid to get his face wet. So, just get it in your mind that you love getting your face in the water, and you're already past the beginning stage."
"You're so full of shit," retorted Gaal.
"No. Really," replied Sam. "Just get it into your brain that you don't mind getting your face wet. That's all there is to it."
Dahms looked a bit amused by Sam's twenty-second swimming instruction, which was meant to take Gaal from the beginner's level to the intermediate level. "Well maybe that's not quite all there is to it," she replied, "but actually swimming under water is easier than swimming on top, because the tank will be supplying the air."
Gaal's face went white at the thought of it. "You must be joking," he said.
"We're not joking," yelled Sam. "By God man, you've got to do it, or stay here and shrivel up like a prune in this salt water."
"He's right," said Dahms. "We don't have the time it takes to teach someone how to swim, but from what I've seen, you're a natural athlete. I mean you have the physique and the coordination of a good athlete. You've done well in battle, and you have the courage. So, now you need to get the right mental frame about swimming. Just relax, and we'll help you."
Gaal looked at Ben. “You said you’d teach me how to swim.”
“I said it would be a quick lesson, and you’ve had it. Besides, they’re right—when you’re under water you don’t have to worry about having air. The only thing you have to know is when you want to go forward you put your hands in front of you, cup them, and pull the water toward you, and when you want to stop, keep your arms beside you. Think you can do that?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Gaal.
Dahms looked at the walls surrounding the lake. “You don’t suppose there’s a path that we can walk, do you?”
“No,” said Sam. “If that were so, then we wouldn’t need the tanks, and secondly this is a more difficult zone than the zone with the snakes.” He paused a moment, then said, “Maybe there’s a trapdoor on the bottom of the lake.”
Ben was still propped up on the wall and was thinking that Sam’s theory sounded plausible. “Yeah,” said Ben. “Let's swim along the wall going to our left, of course, and look for a tunnel or a trap door on the bottom of the lake. There has to be a way around the sharks. I’m sure Hurd wants to make a sport of it without us getting eaten right away."
Ben was still propped up on the wall watching the sharks when suddenly one of them turned and started swimming toward him. At first he didn’t think anything of it, but when he realized it was speeding up he yelled, “What the hell!” He didn’t know whether to tell them they were being attacked or not. And then th
e damn thing slammed into the wall and knocked him and the others into the water.
Rocks broke loose from the top creating a ragged edge. The shark swam out thirty feet, then turned and made another run at the wall. It shook again as the shark slammed into it. More rocks broke loose. A gap started to form at the top.
“Damn, that’s one hungry fish,” said Ben. “I think we better go.”
They started swimming to the left helping Gaal as they went.
They had only gone a short distance when Sam shouted out, “There. It looks like a metal door.”
"Must be the way," said Dahms. She took Gaal’s mouthpiece and handed it to him. “Put this in your mouth and blow hard. That’ll get the water out of the lines, then take in a deep breath. If the tank is working, you’ll be able to breathe freely.” She looked at Sam. “Since your shoulder hurts, maybe I should wear the tank.”
“You think we have the time for this discussion?”
“Not really,” said Ben. “But there is one more thing you need to tell Gaal.”
Dahms gave Ben a ‘what?’ look.
“Equalizing the ears.
She grimaced. “You’re right,” she said. She looked at Gaal. “It looks like it’s thirty or forty feet to the door. As you’re swimming down you’ll feel a pressure on your ears, and at that time you have to pinch your nose and blow real hard to equalize them.”
Gaal grimaced. “Are you crazy?”
“Damn,” yelled Sam. “Are you a man or a sissy?”
“Alright,” growled Gaal. “Let’s go.”
“Yes,” said Sam. “Let’s go.”
Ben looked down the wall when he heard a loud crashing sound. The top of the wall broke loose where the shark slammed into it for the third time. The rocks came tumbling down, and it swam through the barrier.
“I doubt that Hurd planned this,” said Dahms.
“Yeah,” said Ben, “but he’s probably enjoying the hell out of it.”
The four of them bent at the waist and went under, propelling themselves through the glassy water toward the rusty door.
Ben kept his eye on the shark as they swam down. The large grey beast turned and started toward them.
Ben kicked harder and drew his sword. They were almost to the door when he turned to watch it.
Sam grabbed the handle and started pulling, but the door was either too heavy or rusted. He signaled for Gaal and Ben to give him a hand, and when the three of them heaved, the door swung slowly open.
Ben grabbed Dahms’ shoulder and motioned for her to hurry as he pointed at the shark, which had increased its speed and wasn’t more than twenty meters from them.
The shark slowed its speed a little and started making a strange side to side motion as it came in for the kill. Its mouth was open displaying jaws with large, white teeth.
Ben had heard that hitting a shark on the nose with your fist would cause it to turn and swim away, but he knew there would be no hitting this one—it was too large and too hungry.
There was only one thing he could do, and he hoped it would work. When the shark was in striking distance Ben used his sword and stabbed it on the snout.
The shark turned quickly and swam away. After twenty meters it turned around and started back.
Ben twisted around and saw that the others had gone into the tunnel. He calculated the size of the opening with reference to the size of the shark. You big bastard. You won’t be able to follow me in here.
He swam through the opening and sheathed his sword. Keeping his left hand outstretched in front of him he propelled himself into the semi-darkness. The tube went down about ten feet and made a sharp turn toward the center of the lake. After he had gone another twenty feet he could just barely make out the form of Gaal struggling to get down the passageway using his hands to push against the bottom.
Gaal swam another ten feet, then disappeared as he turned upward and swam out of sight.
When Ben made the turn and swam out of the passageway he found himself on the bottom of the lake. In the water with the sharks.
Ahead, about ten meters he could see Gaal and another twenty meters Dahms and Sam were sharing air.
Ben started after them. He had swam no more than fifteen feet when one of Hurd's ancient Earth sharks suddenly appeared making that same strange movement with its head. Ben pulled both swords simultaneously from their sheaths and waited.
It was only a few feet from Ben when it slammed into something hard and unyielding. It swam a short distance away, and attempted its attack from another angle, but the results were the same.
Ben sheathed his short sword and with his arm outstretched he swam toward the side until he felt a hard, clear-plastic wall between him and the main body of the lake. It appeared they were in a long transparent tube, which was acting as a barrier between them and the sharks. It would keep them safe, at least, from whatever was outside the tube.
After another forty meters Dahms and Sam came to a halt. When Ben got closer he could see why—the tube forked, which meant they had to decide which way to go. But, of course, left was the only choice.
Another shark slammed into the barrier.
Dahms started to her left, which was no surprise to Ben. They swam a hundred yards and came to another fork. Again Dahms chose the left.
Ben had heard about Hurd’s pride about being left handed. He said that left-handed people were smarter. And Ben was sure that in his egotistical mania he believed it. He just hoped Hurd hadn’t given into a moment of reverse psychology.
After another two hundred yards Ben knew they were getting close to the other side of the lake, and none too soon, Dahms and Sam had already run out of air and had discarded their tank. They were using air from the last two tanks. It took a minute for Gaal to understand that he had to give up his mouthpiece for Sam to use. At first he was reluctant, but obviously he knew it was necessary, and he finally gave it up.
They had gone another fifty meters when Ben saw something in the near distance. It was a solid wall blocking the passageway.
So, thought Ben, Hurd changed the pattern after all. From the history, which he had studied in school, he had found that a monarchy was as good or as bad as the dictator who ruled it. Hurd, having set himself up as a dictator, could have done wonderful things for the city and for the people. With all the wealth accumulated from the Zen I crystals he could have constructed another dome making the city larger and alleviating the overcrowding. He could have built more schools and libraries (the smart politicians realize that a powerful country is only as powerful as the people are intelligent). He could have built more roadways and expanded the spaceport bringing in more trade. He could have developed better relations with the outsiders, thereby enhancing trade with them. And most importantly he could have encouraged the growth of the middle class by raising the wage base.
Instead Hurd had chosen the path which many dictators had followed throughout the history of the Galaxy. Indeed, he had become a fool in greed—the greed of power and money.
Ben looked at the blockade. He knew that the other three were thinking that they had come to their end. He took another drag off the mouthpiece and handed it to Dahms.
Ben was told that when Hurd was first coming into power, one of the council men spent time with him trying to make him understand wisdom and benevolence; and especially the importance of intelligence. Keep the populace educated and keep your city strong. For a while it seemed Hurd was learning, but then greed crept in, and Hurd chose selfishness over the good of the people. What a fool he is, thought Ben.
He watched as Sam, obviously out of desperation and anger swam to the wall and started hacking it with his sword. A big chunk of the material was loosed from the wall and fell slowly through the water landing gently on the bottom of the tube. It took the four of them only a moment to realize they might be able to get through. Ben, Dahms, and Gaal joined with Sam, and they started hacking the wall with their swords.
Soon they had broken a small hole thr
ough to the other side. That damned Hurd, thought Ben, he stayed true to form.
The four of them kept hacking almost frantically as they realized time was running out. They never stopped for a moment's rest and only quickly would they hand the mouthpieces back and forth for more air.
The hole seemed to be growing too slowly. With his short sword he started hacking faster, but the more he hacked the more it seemed it was useless work. The greater the physical activity, the more the air he needed, and now it was almost gone with the hole only being half the size they needed to get through.
Ben was thinking they had come to their end when a snout and part of the jaws of a shark protruded through the opening and snapped at his arm.
Damn! thought Ben.
The shark pulled back, then crammed its head further into the hole trying to get at Ben. His jaws opened as wide as he could get them in the small opening, then shut, then opened and shut several times as if on automation. They opened and shut, opened and shut, opened and shut. It reminded Ben of a child's toy he had once seen in a museum, which was designed like a pair of false teeth. Wind them up and they would go click click click click rapidly for at least a minute.
The shark gave up and backed out of the hole.
A moment later the huge fish swam with full force at the hole. The wall shuddered and started to give.
What the hell, thought Ben. He unstrapped his tank and gave it to Dahms. Then he swam to the top of the wall and waited for the next attack, which came quickly. As soon as the monster's head appeared through the hole with a crashing force, he rammed his sword through the top of its skull.
Blood clouded the water and before Ben could withdraw his sword the thrashing of the shark brought down the wall. Ben, being at the top of the tube, was safe, but Dahms, Sam, and Gaal had to swim quickly to the ceiling as the shark started thrashing toward them. He swam down the enclosed hallway crashing against the sides of the tube, swinging his great head back and forth.
Ben didn't wait to watch as it disappeared into the murky passageway. He swam over the rubble only to find another wall about twenty feet away. It had to be a trick, if it wasn’t, they were doomed. He searched the floor and found a trap door partly covered by mud and algae.
Dahms caught up with him and started shoving the mouthpiece in his face.
He took a drag of air, which proved to be difficult indicating that the air was almost depleted, then he pointed at .the trap door and the four of them grabbed the handle and swung it open.
It was dark below, but Ben was confident that this was the way out. He motioned for Dahms to go first, which she did, but she surprised him when she unstrapped her tank and handed it to him. What was her reason? He didn't know, but he had to be close to her when she needed air. He followed, closely.
She went down the tube, which after ten feet made a sharp u-turn and finally pointed up. At the top she swung the metal door open and propelled herself out of the tunnel.
He expected her to wait for a final drag of air, but she didn't. Instead she swam for the surface, blowing bubbles as she went.
Damn, he thought, she knows how to do a free ascent. Now where did she learn to do that on Ar.
Sam swam beside Ben and pulled on his arm, and when Ben looked at him, Sam shrugged his shoulders and pointed at Dahms.
A little difficult to explain right now, thought Ben. Knowing there were still a couple of breaths of air left, he handed the tank to Sam, then started toward the surface while blowing bubbles.
When he broke the surface, Dahms, instead of swimming for the shore was still treading water waiting for the others.
“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.
Just then Sam's head popped through the water.
"It's a technique I learned when I was on Trandon. Some friends took me diving, and they showed me how to ascend from the bottom by blowing air."
Sam spit water, let go of the tank, then said, "Well you scared the hell out of me when you took off like that. I couldn't figure out what you were doing"
Just then Gaal broke the surface.
"You were right," yelled Gaal interrupting their conversation. "It is easier swimming underwater." His arms started flopping and just before his head went under he managed to cry out, "A little help, if you don't mind."
Dahms grabbed him by the shoulder, and the four of them made their way to the beach.
Chapter Thirty-Six