Paz pulled Ina close to her, kicked with both feet and paddled with a single free hand. Her strength, several times that of even the most powerful human swimmer, adapted to moving with both speed and agility in deep water, propelled Paz and her unconscious cargo up through an ever-widening pall of silt.

Up, up, through near-total darkness, into a twilight of shimmering midnight blue.

Please, Paz prayed in her mind, please let me not be too late.

Thirty fathoms above, the sport-fisher convertible boat bobbed on the sea as the weather continued to take a turn for the worse.

Wilder slung his head over the side of the boat and spat into the water, dry-heaving. After two hours, he had nothing left to puke.

"Ohhhh man, I hate water so much,&...

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