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手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

第50部分（第3页）

Believe　it；　he　thought。　After　all；　what　choice　did　he　have？　Beth　was　out　of　control　and　dangerous。　It　was　too　late　to　save　her　now…in　fact；　it　was　crazy　to　go　anywhere　near　her。　Beth　was　homicidal。　Shed　already　tried　to　kill　him　once；　and　had　nearly　succeeded。

And　Harry　had　been　drugged　for　thirteen　hours；　by　now　he　was　probably　clinically　dead；　brain…dead。　There　was　no　reason　for　Norman　to　stay。　There　was　nothing　for　him　to　do。

The　sub　was　close　now。　He　could　see　the　fittings　on　the　yellow　exterior。

〃Norman；　please　。。。　I　need　you。〃

Sorry；　he　thought。　Im　getting　out　of　here。

He　moved　around　beneath　the　twin　propellor　screws；　the　name　painted　on　the　curved　hull；　Deepstar　III。　He　climbed　the　footholds；　moving　up　into　the　dome。

〃Norman…〃

Now　he　was　out　of　contact　with　the　inter。　He　was　on　his　own。　He　opened　the　hatch；　climbed　inside　the　submarine。　He　unlocked　his　helmet；　pulled　it　off。

〃Your　attention；　please。　Eighteen　minutes　and　counting。〃　Norman　sat　in　the　pilots　padded　seat；　faced　the　controls。　The　instruments　blinked　on；　and　the　screen　directly　before　him　glowed。

DEEPSTAR　III　…　MAND　MODULE

Do　you　require　help？

Yes　No　Cancel

＇＇342＇＇　He　pressed　〃YES。〃　He　waited　for　the　next　screen　to　flash　up。

It　was　too　bad　about　Harry　and　Beth；　he　was　sorry　to　leave　them　behind。　But　they　had　both；　in　their　own　ways；　failed　to　explore　their　inner　selves；　thus　making　them　vulnerable　to　the　sphere　and　its　power。　It　was　a　classic　scientific　error；　this　so…called　triumph　of　rational　thought　over　irrational　thought。　Scientists　refused　to　acknowledge　their　irrational　side；　refused　to　see　it　as　important。　They　dealt　only　with　the　rational。　Everything　made　sense　to　a　scientist；　and　if　it　didnt　make　sense；　it　was　dismissed　as　what　Einstein　called　the　〃merely　personal。〃

The　merely　personal；　he　thought；　in　a　burst　of　contempt。　People　killed　each　other　for　reasons　that　were　〃merely　personal。〃

DEEPSTAR　III　…　CHECKLIST　OPTIONS

DescendAscend

SecureShutdown

MonitorCancel

Norman　pressed　〃ASCEND。〃　The　screen　changed　to　the　drawing　of　the　instrument　panel；　with　the　flashing　point。　He　waited　for　the　next　instruction。

Yes；　he　thought；　it　was　true：　scientists　refused　to　deal　with　the　irrational。　But　the　irrational　side　didnt　go　away　if　you　refused　to　deal　with　it。　Irrationality　didnt　atrophy　with　disuse。　On　the　contrary；　left　unattended；　the　irrational　side　of　man　had　grown　in　power　and　scope。

And　plaining　about　it　didnt　help；　either。　All　those　scientists　whining　in　the　Sunday　supplements　about　mans　inherent　destructiveness　and　his　propensity　for　violence；　throwing　up　their　hands。　That　wasnt　dealing　with　the　irrational　side。　That　was　just　a　formal　admission　that　they　were　giving　up　on　it。

＇＇343＇＇　The　screen　changed　again：

DEEPSTAR　III　…　ASCEND　CHECKLIST

1。　Set　Ballast　Blowers　To：　On

Proceed　To　NextCancel

Norman　pushed　buttons　on　the　panel；　setting　the　ballast　blowers；　and　waited　for　the　next　screen。

After　all；　how　did　scientists　approach　their　own　research？　The　scientists　all　agreed：　scientific　research　cant　be　stopped。　If　we　dont　build　the　bomb；　someone　else　will。　But　then　pretty　soon　the　bomb　was　in　the　hands　of　new　people；　who　said；　If　we　dont　use　the　bomb；　someone　else　will。

At　which　point；　the　scientists　said；　those　other　people　are　terrible　people；　theyre　irrational　and　irresponsible。　We　scientists　are　okay。　But　those　other　people　are　a　real　problem。

Yet　the　truth　was　that　responsibility　began　with　each　individual　person；　and　the　choices　he　made。　Each　person　had　a　choice。

Well；　Norman　thought；　there　was　nothing　he　could　do　for　Harry　or　Beth　any　longer。　He　had　to　save　himself。

He　heard　a　deep　hum　as　the　generators　turned　on；　and　the　throb　of　the　propellors。　The　screen　flashed：

DEEPSTAR　III　…　PILOT　INSTRUMENTS　ACTIVATED

Here　we　go；　he　thought；　resting　his　hands　confidently　on　the　controls。　He　felt　the　submarine　respond　beneath　him。　〃Your　attention；　please。　Seventeen　minutes　and　counting。〃　Muddy　sediment　churned　up　around　the　canopy　as　the　screws　engaged；　and　then　the　little　submarine　slipped　out　from　beneath　the　dome。　It　was　just　like　driving　a　car；　he　thought。　There　was　nothing　to　it。

He　turned　in　a　slow　arc；　away　from　DH…7；　toward　DH…8。　He　was　twenty　feet　above　the　bottom；　high　enough　for　the　screws　to　clear　the　mud。

There　were　seventeen　minutes　left。　At　a　maximum　ascent　rate　of　6。6　feet　per　second…he　did　the　mental　calculation　quickly；　effortlessly…he　would　reach　the　surface　in　two　and