I turned back. Near the corridor entrance, skeletal metal stairs ricketed into the ceiling.
Staying off surveillance had been a forlorn hope.
However we fought the mutiny, we’d have to do while the mutineers watched.
31The metal stairs between levels three and two went on forever. With the unsteady weight of the pressure suits, we could only take them at heavy left. Each tread was marked with the octagonal Montague logo and rang beneath our boots. Far too late, I realized I should have counted the turns to guess the distance. The only reason I could think of to have such a difference between floors was that level two must be above the water, and level three deep enough that it could spread out.
Endless stairs through basalt. I was so sick of blue-gray basalt.
Far too slowly, we reache
