"How about Jupiter?" asked Deirdre. "The gravity's four times the earth's, and the atmosphere is thousands of miles thick. The pressure at the surface should be tons to the square inch."
Morton nodded. With the same false geniality he added, "And there'll be no light. Sunlight will never get through that muggy thick atmosphere! So we consider ourselves to be rational beings and guess that the bolides come from Jupiter! But I must admit that the last bolide was headed inward toward the sun, and from the general direction of Jupiter. So-o-o-o, do we warn the world that creatures from Jupiter are descending in space ships and are settling down under water, at a depth of forty-five hundred fathoms? Like hell we do!"
He got up and walked abruptly away.
"I ..." said the bald-headed man, shaking his head incredulously, "will put this gadget away and go back to carve some more squid."
"I'll talk to Manila," said Davis drearily. "Something is coming up from below. There shouldn't be any ships allowed to come this way until we find out what's happening."
Deirdre smiled at Terry, now that they were alone.
"Have you anything very important to do just now?"
He shook his head.
"If the things that are coming up are—space ships, we can't fight them. If they're anything else, they can't very well fight us. If we wanted to attack something at the bottom of the sea we'd have to fumble at the job. We wouldn't know where to begin. So maybe, if a submarine power wants to attack at the surface of the sea, it may find it difficult, too."
He frowned. Deirdre said, "Let's go look at the sea and think things over!"