Thirty
The 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 reached Portal level.
The cavern ceiling was only about five meters up, shorter than those below. The bricks insulating the facility from Tritium looked even heavier, though. The airlock’s fittings made me think of a mi
