Warmth, blessed warmth.
Doctor Grant removed his helmet and breathed deep the sea.
His host passed him a drink.
He knocked it back vigorously, producing a smile from the young man.
"So tell me doctor, what possessed you to venture this far into the unknown? "
"That would be destiny, I believe."
"Ha! And I suppose destiny is why I can smell my blood in you?"
"Indeed."
"But that's all my fathers intuition, now isn't it?"
"Your father?"
"Yes. He's with the Don now. But we'll see him soon enough."
The Don...
How in the hell had Dr. Grant found himself in such terrible company? Even though he was acutely aware that the young man in front of him was basically the harbinger of the end of the world, he found it difficult to not feel relaxed and welcome.
He kept reminding himself that he wasn't dreaming.
Unless, he was already dead, and this was only a dream of the madness?
But regardless, breathing in the sea, drinking under water... truly this was madness, no matter what way you cut it.
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