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stable.”
    â€œI’m not leaving yet.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t risk—”
    Jack interrupted, “I’ve found the Kochi Maru .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe ship is here…but I don’t know for how long.” As the sub hovered atop the ridge, Jack stared out the acrylic dome. On the far side of the hellish valley lay the wreck of a long trawler, its hull cracked into two sections. In the dull glow, the shattered windows of the pilothouse stared back at him. On the bow were printed black Japanese letters. He was well-familiar with the name: KOCHI MARU . Spring Wind.
    But the name no longer fit the wreck.
    Around the ship, molten rock welled and flowed, forming ribbons and pools of magma, steaming as it quickly cooled in the frigid depths. The forward half of the ship lay directly over one of the vents. Jack watched as the steel ship began to sink, melting into the magma.
    â€œIt’s smack dab in the middle of hell,” Jack reported. “I’m gonna get a closer look.”
    â€œJack…” It was Lisa again, her voice hard with a pending command. But she hesitated. She knew him too well. A long sigh followed. “Just keep a watch on the external temp readings. Titanium isn’t impervious to extreme temperatures. Especially the seals—”
    â€œI understand. No unnecessary risks.” Jack pushed both foot pedals. The sub shot off the ridge, climbing higher at the same time. As he glided toward the wreck, he watchedthe temperature continue to rise.
    Seventy-five…one hundred…110…
    Sweat pebbled Jack’s forehead and his hands grew slick. If one of the sub’s seals should weaken and break, the crushing weight at this depth would kill him in less than a second.
    He climbed higher, until the temperature dropped below a hundred again. Satisfied he was safe, he goosed the sub, passing over the valley. Soon he hovered over the wreck itself. Tilting the sub on its side, he circled the broken ship.
    Leaning a bit, Jack stared down at the wreck. From this vantage point, he could see the broken stern resting a full fifty yards from the bow. The hollow cavity of the rear hold was turned away from the vents. Across the silt, lit by the fiery glow of the nearby vents, lay a scattering of crates, half buried, wood long turned to black from the decades it was submerged.
    â€œHow’s it looking, Jack?” Lisa asked.
    Narrowing his eyes, he studied the spilled contents of the wreck. “Ain’t pretty, that’s for damn sure.”
    After a studied pause, Lisa came back on. “Well…?”
    â€œI don’t know. I mortgaged the ship and the old family ranch to finance this trip. To come up empty-handed—”
    â€œI know, but all the gold in the world’s not worth your life.”
    He could not argue with that. Still, he loved the old homestead: the rolling green hills, the whitewashed fences. He had inherited the hundred-acre ranch after his father died of pancreatic cancer. Jack had been only twenty-one. The debts had forced him out of the University of Tennessee and into the Armed Services. Though he could have sold the place and finished school, he had refused. The land had been in the family for five generations—but truthfully it was more personal than that. By the time his father had passed away, his mother was already long in her grave, succumbing to complications from a simple appendectomy when he was a boy, leaving no other children. Jack hardly remembered her, just pictures on the wall and a handful of memories tied to the place. No matter what, he refused to lose even these slim memories to the bank.
    Lisa interrupted his reverie. “I could always try extending my NSF grant and scrounge up more funds.” It was her government money that had allowed them to lease the Nautilus and test its patented Bio-Sensor system.
    â€œIt won’t be enough,” Jack grumbled. Secretly he had hoped