The yaw numbers slow down, dropping through a hundred degrees, ninety, eighty. At around seventy degrees, something rotates into view at the edge of the screen. It looks like a rugged, particolored sugarloaf rising from the seafloor. Amy gooses the controls a couple of times and the rotation drops to a crawl. The sugarloaf glides into the center of the screen and then stops. "Locking in the gyros," Amy says, whacking a button. "All forward." The sugarloaf slowly begins to get bigger. The ROV is moving towards it, its direction automatically stabilized by its built-in gyroscopes.