Danvar, Hap said, wheezing. Can you fucking believe it?
Did you see the other buildings?
Palmer asked. He was out of breath as well. And I spotted the ground another three hundred meters or so further down.
Hap nodded. I saw. I couldnt have gone another meter, though. Fuck, that was tight. He held his goggles to his face for a moment, checking his readouts most likely, and frowned. Hap shrugged his tanks off.
Dont forget to kill your valve, Palmer said.
Right. Hap reached to spin the knob. There was sand stuck to his face and neck where hed been sweating. Palmer watched his friend shake a veritable dune out of his hair. What now? he asked. Do we poke around? You got dibs on the brewer?
Yeah, I already spotted the brewer. I say we check a few doors, catch our breath, and then get the fuck out of here. If we stay longer than two bottles should last, our friends up top might think we only made it as far as the last assholes, and then theyll close that tunnel on our asses. I dont think I have enough air to get all the way back to the surface without that shaft.
Yeah Hap appeared distracted. He popped off his fins, shook the scoop out of them, and dragged his gear away from the drift invading through the busted window. Good move popping through the glass like that, he said. I just saw you disappear, but I couldnt see inside.
Thanks. And this is good, catching our breath. It wouldve been tight getting back up. We can get our strength.
Amen. Hey, did you happen to spot the other divers on the way down?
Palmer shook his head. No, did you?
Naw. I was hoping theyd stand out.
Palmer agreed. There was almost nothing more valuable to salvage than another diver. It wasnt just their gearwhich could run a pretty coinit was getting cut in on any bounties they had or wills theyd left. Every diver was afraid to some degree of being buried without a tombstone, and so the bone-bounties, as they were called, made every diver a comrade of the dead.
Lets try those doors, Hap said, pointing at the double set at the far end of the room.
Palmer agreed. He got there first and ran his hands across the smooth wood. Fuck me, Id love to get these out of here.
You get those out of here and you could fuck someone prettier than me.
Palmer laughed. He gripped the handle, and the metal knob turned, but the door was stuck. The two of them tugged, grunting. Hap braced his foot on the other door, and when it finally gave way, the both of them went tumbling back into the table and chairs.
Hap laughed, catching his breath. The door creaked on its hinges. And there was some other sound, a popping like a dripping faucet, like a great beam settling under some weight. Palmer watched the ceiling closely. It sounded like the scraper was adjusting itself, like its belly was grumbling around these new morsels in its gut.
We shouldnt stay long, Palmer said.
Hap studied him a long while. Palmer could sense that his friend was just as afraid as he was. We wont, he agreed. Why dont you go first. Ill save my dive light in case yours burns out.
Palmer nodded. Sound thinking. He stepped through the door and into the hallway. Across from him, there was a glass partition with another door set in it, a spider web of cracks decorating the glass, the effect of the building settling or being crushed by the sand. There appeared to be a lift lobby on the other side of the partition. Palmer had been in a few lifts in smaller buildings, found them a good way to get up and down if a building was full of sand. The hallway he stood in extended off in both directions, was studded with doors. To his right, there was a high desk like some kind of reception area, but everything was so damn nice. He coughed into his fist. Hopefully the air here wasnt
Behind him, the door slammed. Palmer whirled in panic, thinking the drift mustve flowed into the room and pinned the door shut, burying their gear. But he was alone in the hallway. Hap was gone.
Palmer tried the door. The handle turned, but the door wouldnt push open. He could hear the rattle on the other side as something was pressed against the door.
Hap? What the fuck?
Im sorry, Palmer. Ill come back for you.
Palmer slapped the door. Stop fucking around, man.
Ill come back. Im sorry, man.
Palmer realized he was serious. Lowering his shoulder, he slammed against the door, could feel it budge a little. Hap mustve shoved a chair under the knob. Open the goddamn door, he yelled.
Listen, Hap said. His voice was distant. He was across the room. I burned my air getting down here. One of us needs to go up and tell the others what we found. Ill get more bottles and come back, I swear. But its gotta be me.
Ill go! Palmer shouted. Thats
my air, man. I can make it back up!
Ill be back, Hap called out. Palmer could hear a faint hiss as valves were opened and a regulator was tested. His valves. His regulator.
You motherfucker! Palmer shouted. He tried the adjacent door, but it wouldnt budge. He went back to ramming himself against the first door. He jerked the handle toward him as tight as he could, then threw his shoulder into the wood, thought he felt the chair budge a little. Again and again. The door opened a crack. And then a gap. Enough to get his arm through. He reached inside and felt the rim of the chair, held it while he pulled the door shut tight against his arm, and the chair popped off the knob and went tumbling. Palmer shoved his way inside, banging his elbows on the two doors, swimming between those priceless walls of wood, tripping over the upturned chair, to see Hap still on the floor, tugging on a flipper.