Primly exiting the bathysphere, Emile climbed down to the red carpet. Wide-eyed stares greeted his appearance, and Grand chittered unhappily as his eyes darted about. Emile was standing in a small undersea dome, its flat ceiling dotted with six pressure hatches identical with the one he had just used. The curved walls were ringed with thick portholes, clusters of air tanks, and puncture repair kits every two meters. The strip of carpet underfoot led to a half-circle tunnel extending off into the distance. A group of people were standing in the mouth of the well-lit tube; a norm male in a standard business suit, a norm female in a severe business dress, no jewelry, and three hulking trolls in full combat armor and sporting Mossberg SMGs with grenade launchers. Two of the metahumans had chromed eyes, the third was wearing darkly tinted wraparound glasses of unknown function. But Emile suspected they were of military origin.