"What if we open it up and it's just a lot of rusted junk inside, and nothing valuable or enlightening at all?" Ted said, " 'A new threshold in the evolution of the human species'?" They heard the intermittent ping of sonar. "Nine hundred feet." He slowed the descent. Is evolution a road? I thought it wasn't I thought evolution was undirected." "Well, a crossroads is a crossing of roads. "How about 'A crossroads in the evolution of the human species'?" Maybe 'A turning point in human history'?" "Momentous moment?" Norman said, frowning. I was thinking of "This is a momentous moment in human history.' " So we need something to say, a memorable phrase. "Oh, I'm sure there'll be all sorts of documentation. At the threshold, with the cameras rolling." I've been wondering about what we should say." "You know," Ted said, "when we open this alien craft up and make our first contact with another form of life, it's going to be a great moment in the history of our species on Earth. "What a thrill." Norman wished he would shut up. "Have you ever done anything like this before, Norman?" The interior of the submarine was growing colder. The pilot had to rub the dials with a cloth to read them. "It's a plateau between two undersea ridges, the South Fiji or Lau Ridge to the west, and the Tonga Ridge to the east." "Actually," Ted said, "if I remember, this particular region of the Pacific is called the Lau Basin, isn't that right?" It seemed that the interior of the submarine was now much smaller, the walls closer to his face. "That's normal pressure adjustment," the pilot said. The submarine creaked loudly, then made several explosive pops. "Thank you, gentlemen, and have a good bottom stay, both of you," the pilot said. He fumbled in his pocket, found a five-dollar bill, thought better of it, took out a twenty instead. You always pay the pilot on your way down, for good luck." "Didn't they mention that to you? Old tradition. "Oh yes," Ted said, reaching into his pocket. We traditionally stop about here, sir the sub sticks in the river, takes us for a little ride." "Sir, we are in a current of different salinity and temperature it behaves like a river inside the ocean. "Four hundred feet." The submarine lurched, then eased forward. The pilot flicked on red interior lights.
Now it was quite dark outside the instruments glowed green. Was he nervous? Norman couldn't tell: he was feeling his own heart pound. That's what we are doing now, descending to that plain." One is the relatively small rectangle bounded by Samoa, New Zealand, Australia, and New Guinea, which is actually a great undersea plain, like the plains of the American West, except it's at an average depth of two thousand feet. "There are only a few places where it is less. Most parts of the Pacific are so deep we'd never be able to visit it in person." He explained that the vast Pacific Ocean, which amounted to half the total surface area of the Earth, had an average depth of two miles. "You know," Ted said, "we're really quite lucky about this site.
All that happened was that it got darker and darker. Norman felt the rumble of the electric motors, but there was no real sense of motion. The pilot said something on the radio, and turned up the Mozart. Now there was nothing to be seen through the porthole but undifferentiated blue water. Motors rumbled and the sub moved forward, the diver slipping off to one side. "We'll leave the sled now," the pilot said. The light in the submarine from the porthole was a beautiful blue. He adjusted valves above his head and they heard the hiss of air, startlingly loud.