The Atlantic Abomination
“At last Mary broke in, her voice shaking. “You know, I’d just figured out another explanation for Luke’s survival. I was going to suggest it could be an unexpected result of the Ostrovsky-Wong process. I was rehearsing the scorn I meant to pour on the Chief’s theories. And now—”
“And now we find a life-form absolutely and utterly different from anything known before.” Peter put grimness into the words. “It’s so different I’m even prepared to accept it could be intelligent.”
“I’m glad it’s dead,” Mary whispered.
“So am I. … Think the ’nef will lift it?”
She took a moment to understand him. “Are you out of your mind? You want to take that thing to the surface? We can’t dig it out of the mud by ourselves, for heaven’s sake! And even if we did, if it’s built for this kind of pressure it will just break to pieces on the way up.”
“I’m not so sure,” Peter murmured. He plunged back towards the dead beast, and began to survey it cautiously, scraping away ooze by the shovelful from around its legs.
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