按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Below； in the great room with light…blue walls streaming with sunlight； he waited for his bubbles to clear； watching the rise and fall of the hull above him。 When he had adjusted to his underwater world； Moore swam toward the bow； found the taut anchor line and began to follow it hand…over…hand into the depths； his breath appearing before him in crystal globes that ascended to the surface。 He went slowly； clearing his ears by squeezing his nostrils shut and blowing every few seconds。 In another moment he sighted the bottom； ridges of sand and high walls of tangled coral； and he let go； kicking smoothly away； when he came to the end of the anchor line。 Following the bottom； he swam toward the curtain of blue before him； his legs doing all the work； his arms held loosely at his sides。 Familiar sights told him he was in the right place： the bulbous mass of brown brain coral that had amazed him the first time he'd seen it； magnificent forest of staghorn coral； now filled with the dart and shimmer of dwarf herring； an angelfish； strikingly blue and yellow； moving gracefully past him。
Through thick clumps of algae that stirred with the currents below； Moore saw a brigade of crabs on the march； freezing solid when they sensed his movement。 The reefs were alive； fish flew like birds through the coral openings or whisked themselves into holes to await his passing。 The reef dwellers were too accustomed to the predators to take any chances。 A shadow covered him； and he looked up。 Thirty feet above an eagle ray swam； the wings rippling like beautiful muscle。 It vanished into the blue gloom。
Moore had been angling down as the bottom dropped away； and now he faced a wall of gnarled dark coral。 He swam through a maze of sea fans； then rose above the wall and stopped abruptly。
Beneath him stretched the Abyss： dark； forboding。 The sea turned from blue to black in those depths； like the huge mouth of something waiting to devour him。 Though he'd been prepared； the sight of it sent an electric chill through him。 Abruptly the vision of the ghost ship； lit by moonlight； glowing green and iridescent； came to him。 He brushed it away。 If ghosts did exist； Moore thought； they probably were down in that awesome hole。 He glanced up at the silvery surface； then thought of the brass ship's pass he'd found last year and began to descend。
There was a freighter down there somewhere； Moore knew； probably so deep his lungs would explode before he could ever reach it。 It had gone down sometime in a battle during World War II…that was all he could glean from the stories that floated about the island。 Details were sketchy； and no one here really liked to talk about the war。 He had gone diving in this area the year before； after another fierce storm； and had discovered a ledge littered with pieces of metal； railings； even the bow portion of a shattered lifeboat。 On that dive Moore had found an old ship's pass； the glass missing but the brass still shining。 He had taken the pass back to the inn； but when he'd returned to the Abyss a few days afterward the sand had settled back like a flat white carpet； and nothing remained。 Another storm had hit soon after； but he hadn't had the chance to dive again； so he'd had to wait for the following season in hopes of finding something else he might be able to salvage。
He continued downward。 Where's that ledge？ he wondered suddenly； trying to pierce the deep…blue mist。 It's dropped away entirely。 But then it materialized and he reached it； swimming along a high ridge of rock…dappled sand。 There was something metal a few feet ahead： a rusted can。 He picked it up。 It was still sealed； though badly dented。 He let it fall； swam on。 In the midst of clumps of coral； probably ripped from the reef at the Abyss rim； there were shards of timber and more cans which gleamed brightly。 He held one up and saw himself reflected in the scoured metal。 It had been buried。 Food supplies for that freighter's crew？ he wondered。 Maybe。 What would be inside？ Peaches？ Vegetables？ He wondered if out of curiosity he should open one to see what was included in a 1942 merchant seaman's diet。
The Abyss stretched down beneath him like the empty socket of a huge eye； there was a series of ledges； all sand choked with rock at various depths； one beneath the other until they faded from sight。 One of them； a massive Mt。 Everest of sand； caught his eye。 It had a definite shape； but he couldn't determine what it reminded him of。 Moore descended； intrigued by the mound； he hadn't noticed it before； but then his attention had been on an upper ledge； not the lower ones。 He was perhaps ten feet above it when he realized something was protruding from the mass of sand and rock； his heart began to beat more rapidly。
Moore hovered over it； fanning the sand back with quick motions of his fins。 The top of a cylinder of some kind protruded vertically。 He felt it gingerly。 Iron。 Unmarked by marine growth； the object； like the cans； had been pletely covered over by sand。 There was glass in it； very heavily scarred。 What in God's name？ he wondered。 He reached down and pulled at it； only half…expecting it to e free； it wouldn't budge。 Moore began to dig the sand away from the object； then wrenched again at it。 No use； David old cock； he told himself。 This…whatever…is stuck tight。 He checked his wristwatch。 Time to head for the surface。 But this cylinder： the scars of sand abrasion glinting； the glass inset。 Fascinating as hell。 It could be something worthwhile； he thought。 Or perhaps。。。he gazed down at the sand stirred by his every movement。
Or perhaps something was buried beneath it。
Moore unstrapped his knife from its sheath and dug rocks away from the cylinder's base。 He uncovered more iron； gleaming and pitted； an inch at a time。 Digging in wrist deep； he pulled the sand away in handfuls。 He pried the rocks loose with his blade and let them roll off into that deep hole below him。 Another glance at the watch。 Time to go！ But he was functioning like a machine now； digging and lifting； slowly uncovering what appeared to be a thick； gleaming iron support for that cylinder。 There were no growths； it had been buried here for a long time。 His knife scraped across flat rock and he shifted his digging to another section。
And then he froze。 Forgot to exhale； then exhaled； the bubbles rattling toward the surface over a hundred and fifty feet above。
He had heard something； muffled and far away； like iron being hammered underwater。
Moore waited； his heart pounding； but the noise didn't e again。 What was it？ He looked around and then realized something very odd： he hadn't seen any fish at this depth。 Very odd； in waters teaming with snapper； grouper； jacks； albacore。 Moore glanced up； looking for the reassuring distant glow of the sun。 There were remnants of jagged rock hanging over him； as if what had once been a ledge just above had given way。 He tried to quiet the inner voices。 Get to your boat； they whispered。 Something is wrong here。
Where were the damned fish？
He continued digging； lifting out coral clumps。
The sand pletely obscured his vision； like the roil of white clouds； it had to be extremely deep here；