"Need anything?" Nils asked.
"Not so far. But I think there's something moving down there."
"Good luck," Nils said. But his voice was empty. He was thinking of
himself. There were so many things that might happen to him down there,
and he had only now begun to think of them.
* * * * *
An air lion was a big creature. If one charged you, it could rip
you right away from any one or all three of the vital strands that
connected you with the surface--cable, air hose, or radio wire.
Actually, the loss of the radio wire was nothing. When there was a
total deadness in his earphones, the radioman signaled frantically and
the diver was hauled up. But loss of either of the other two was fatal.
If your air hose was cut, you died right away, not of lack of oxygen
but of the liquid methane and ammonium that got into your breathing
apparatus. If your cable was torn loose, there was a faint chance.
You hung on, if you could, until the old cable could be taken off the
drum and a new one put on. Then they sent it down and the other diver
snapped it to your suit. But the air hose alone might not be capable of
sustaining the heavy suit--and if it gave way before the new cable was
attached, you were dead.
"There's one!" Kerr's voice was excited in his earphones. "I can see
him now. If he gets a little closer, I can get a shot at him."
"We'll send down Newcomb," Nils said. He stood up and waved to the
installation, where Newcomb was sitting placidly, already hooked up to
cable, hose, and wire. Immediately Newcomb rose and clambered over the
side, down the ladder.
Nils glanced at his watch again. Well, only an hour and ten minutes to
go.
If an air lion didn't get you, there was the chance that your cable
would wear loose or that your air hose would get snarled. The air hose,
after all, was rubberoid and came down loose, not taut. You could get
a kink in it very easily and not be aware of it until that sudden
drowsiness that was oxygen starvation hit you. Then, if you could stay
conscious long enough, you could gasp it into the microphone: "My air
line's fouled!" And if they could get you to the surface fast enough,
or even just get the kink high enough to straighten it out, then you
were saved. If it took too long, you were gone.