The PI rep and her team looked all around but saw nothing. A frightened expression graced Mills' features, a wary spark twinkled in Meddles' eyes and a glimmer of hope was reflected in Smith's straightened posture. Miss Chaisson stood dejected.

Suddenly, the sand rose and swirled around as a little capsule descended onto a clearance - fifty meters from where the team was standing. They fought against the sand particles catching in their eyes when a powerful air blast sent them hurling a few feet backwards. A loud wave shocked them.

When they struggled back to their feet, the capsule was covered in water. Since it was nighttime, the capsule, like a beam, highlighted everything around it, brighter than the on-land projector itself. They froze in place, since fear had unwittingly paralyzed them, and watched as the engine quietened down. Soon, the doors slid open. And unconscious, on a bendable stretcher, Led O'Donnell was carried out by the mechanic and Arlene onto the cold dampened ground.

"Led? Led?!" Miss Chaisson shrieked, standing up and running closer to the capsule faster than any other member of the team could. Mills, Meddles and Smith staggered to their feet.

However, her excitement quickly ceased to be when she saw the state the young man was in.

"Wha- What's the meaning of all this?" she demanded, disbelievingly. She glowered at Cliff, anger in her eyes. "You, too!" She saw Arlene. "What did you do to him?!"

"Calm down, calm down," Arlene begged, as the mechanic didn't know what to say. "I got him out of the asylum, and Cliff here helped him get to Marbella."

"What? How?" Miss Chaisson asked, challenging both questions at once. Arlene sympathetically sighed.

"The main part is that we got him out of there. He got a little motion sickness, hence the fainting. We must get him to the sub."

Miss Chaisson's lips trembled.

"The sub's gone down. Time's up," Meddles informed, not without a bit of sorrow in his voice. "We tried to stop it, to signal it to come up, but with no use."

"What a pity," Arlene stated, casting a glance at the still-raging waters, then looked at Meddles, concern showing on her face. "How far under is it?"

"Ten meters, no more," Smith replied. "It has only started submersion."

"Good. Now we'll have to do just this," Arlene said approvingly and confidently strode over to the centre of the beach. The others followed her. She stopped and lifted her gaze to the control room.

"But, Miss Winner, we have tried to do so and it didn't work," Mills started to say, his gaze worriedly lingering on her face, but she simply smiled.

"It will work. Don't worry," she promptly reassured him, and lifted her hands in the air. She started signing some kind of different symbols with rapid irregular movements, the smile never faltering to grace her features.

They all froze in silence, and then, after a very little while, the lights flickered brighter. A massive split was heard and then - from among the waters the sub rose. A massive wave. Though being 60 meters away from the ocean, it managed to touch them. The capsule, again, got splashed fully in water. Cliff held Led's stretcher high away from the water.

The team stared in awe at such a happening. The same question was in all of their heads.

"How have you done it-" Mills started, but Arlene again interrupted:

"You'll know when we get back. Now off to the submarine!" She instructed, and suddenly it felt like she was the one responsible. She was in charge of the whole mission. She held the power.

But only for a brief second. The next thing they knew they were all running towards the half-immersed sub, and the trapdoor was starting to open before the bay.

Thank God it hadn't gone away from the bay. But the distance of the sub from the jetty was still quite significant, and might have required some agility of movement.

Everyone except Arlene ran onboard the jetty. The latter stopped and signed something again. The jetty started moving.

While she was doing that, the research team was almost next to the submarine. They waited for them to finish moving.

Finally, the sub was at arm's length from the jetty. They had reached the prior at last and were now one by one carefully stepping onto the sub's smooth surface. Miss Chaisson watched as Smith, Mills and Meddles in that order, were lowering themselves through the trapdoor into the submarine. But then it struck her.

Meddles was also leaving.

"Meddles! Meddles!" she called out upon realizing the very fact of his actions. "Where are you going?"

"Dear Miss Chaisson, even though you have ordered me to stay home, my heart yearns to help our planet," Meddles called back, loud enough for her to hear. "I have no family, but my earnest eagerness to serve the mission. Please let me disobey you just for this instance."

The rain had stopped; the chills persisted. The gale never perished; in fact, it seemed as cold as ever when Led on his stretcher was lowered vertically into the submarine; Meddles held on for a bit by the hole.

"I will return safely, Miss Dianne."

He passed through the trapdoor and disappeared into the darkness. It was as if she had nothing to say. All she could do was just watch, in the blistering cold, as her teammates were setting off on a long-range mission; an ambitious expedition that would stretch out as long as the mids of the Atlantic Ocean, and as far as its depths and below. The cold wind kissed her skin, violently whiffling her coat, and the ocean breeze infiltrated her senses. The blow mercilessly ravaged her hair.

The departure was drawing near.

Arlene from behind her came to the jetty; she gave her a courteous smile before slipping through the now half-closed trapdoor; Miss Chaisson eyed her warily, but she was too far gone.

The trapdoor finally closed. All was done. They were finally off.

She had never believed in God's grace as earnestly as many of her coevals, who weren't involved in science, but now, God was her faith. The only One she trusted. In a world of mad rationality, the only thing she could be utterly sure of was His existence, and of the simple fact that He was beyond her understanding. But even though she could never understand Him, she knew that she could have faith in Him, despite anything she believed in, place her hope in Him, pray for the health of her comrades, and believe in a greater outcome, despite all rationality. And that was a beautiful feeling.

Miss Chaisson stood until the last of the circular surface of the sub had been covered, and slowly trooped to the back of the jetty, without a single tear. She was worried, without question. But she had found new strength inside her veins.

For she hoped.