“Give me the manipulator arm,” Jonas ordered. “I want a rock sample.”
Then she turned, swam to the fissure’s mouth, and released a single, powerful jet of water that shot toward the surface—a signal to the rest of her kind, hidden in deeper, darker trenches around the world.
In the center, suspended in the water, was a single, intact object: a buoy from the Mana One. Its light was still blinking. One long, two short. One long, two short. “Give me the manipulator arm,” Jonas ordered
“Mac, get us—”
“Not a sequel,” he said quietly. “A second genesis.” Its light was still blinking
Then the second one appeared. The female. She was larger. And on her dorsal fin, fused to the cartilage, was a piece of twisted, heat-corroded metal. The serial number was still legible: MANA-ONE-DS-01 .
Mac’s voice was a whisper. “Jonas… how many more are down there?” “Mac, get us—” “Not a sequel,” he said quietly
“You hearing this, Mac?” Jonas asked, his voice flat over the comms.
The Neptune’s Grave began to rise, but Jonas knew they weren't escaping.
“That’s not possible,” Jonas whispered. “That’s the male. We buried him under fifty thousand tons of rock.”