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used the first version of the deep suit three years earlier; it had been designed as a way for divers to reach depths impractical for working in traditional scuba equipment, while hugely reducing the risk of the bends. The suit’s hard body let them breathe air at normal surface pressure, while still leaving their limbs relatively free to move. This updated design also allowed its wearer to turn and bend, if only slightly, at the waist, an improvement on the earlier rigid shell, but it was still a cumbersome piece of equipment, especially above the water.
    ‘I’m always worried about getting something in my eye while I’m underwater,’ said Nina, making sure her ponytail was safely clear of the suit’s neck. ‘Or sneezing inside the helmet. That’d be truly gross.’
    ‘Or if you fart in the suit.’
    ‘I don’t fart, Eddie,’ Nina insisted as he lowered the helmet over her head and locked it into place.
    ‘She does, she just never owns up to it,’ Chase said in a stage whisper to Bejo, who laughed.
    ‘What was that?’ Nina asked suspiciously, voice muffled and hollow through the helmet.
    ‘Nothing, dear. Okay, check your systems.’ Chase examined the gauges on the suit’s bulbous back, where the air tanks and recycling systems were contained, while Nina peered at the repeater display inside the helmet. ‘Seal is good, pressure is good, mix is normal, battery is at full. You’re all set.’
    Nina waddled to the ladder on the dock’s edge. Gozzi stood beside it making the final check of his suit’s systems, while Bobak was already bobbing in the lapping waves. He waved at her, inviting her in. For a moment Nina considered jumping in, then took the more prudent course of climbing down the ladder, the fins on her feet flapping against each rung.
    Chase donned his own deep suit with Bejo’s help, then fastened the belt holding his knife and other gear round his waist. ‘All set, Mr Nina,’ said the Indonesian. Chase gave him a look. ‘Mr Eddie,’ he quickly corrected.
    By now, Gozzi had also entered the water. Chase dropped into the sea beside him with a huge splash. ‘Show-off,’ said Nina as Bejo tossed him the speargun.
    Chase cocked the weapon, then looked at the others. ‘Everyone set?’
    ‘I certainly am,’ Nina replied. ‘Let’s see what’s down there.’

2
    T hough only fifty feet deeper than the original site, the new location was far darker, shrouded in perpetual dusk. All four divers had their suit lights on at full power, but even that failed to make much impact on the gloom.
    Nina held a laminated sheet up to her lights - a printout of the sonar image of the area. ‘This is it. Anyone see anything?’
    Gozzi swung one flippered foot at a rounded stone. ‘This might be another of those bricks.’
    ‘Eddie, give him a hand.’
    Chase joined the Italian, and together they pulled it up. Beneath the sediment, protected from erosion, was indeed another of the crisply edged, slightly curved bricks. ‘Looks like the right place.’
    ‘We’ll do a survey,’ Nina decided. ‘We’ll each take a quadrant, starting from here, out to . . . fifty metres. Anyone finds anything promising, make a note and we’ll collate everything when we meet back up.’
    ‘Make sure we stay in sight of each other,’ Chase added.
    They moved apart. Nina swam rather than using the thrusters, examining the sea floor as she moved slowly over it. A half-buried rock turned out to be another brick, larger than the others she’d seen. She made a note of the block’s position, then thought about the nature of the bricks as she moved on. The mere fact that they were curved would limit their utility; the earliest example of that kind of architectural thinking she knew of was that of the Atlanteans, whose empire had risen - and fallen - about eleven thousand years earlier.
    Quite a gap between eleven thousand and a hundred and thirty-five thousand. Could there possibly have been a civilisation that pre-dated