Undersea City

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“Cadet Eden, ten-hut!”

I stopped at the edge of the deepwater pool and stiffened to attention. I had been playing sea-tennis with Bob Eskow in the pool courts on a hot Saturday afternoon. I had come out to adjust my oxygen lung—I could see Eskow still in the water, gliding restlessly back and forth as he waited for me—and the Cadet Captain’s sharp order caught me just about to dive back in.

“Cadet Eden, as you were!” I relaxed slightly and turned.

With the Cadet Captain was the O.O.D. He said, “Report to the Commandant’s office at thirteen hundred hours, Cadet Eden. Now carry on.” He returned my salute and walked off with the Cadet Captain.

Bob Eskow poked his head out of the water, flipped back his mask and complained: “Come on, Jim, what’s holding up the game?”

Then he caught sight of the Cadet Captain and the O.O.D. He whistled. “What did they want?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got to report to the Commandant at thirteen hundred, that’s all.”

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