He reached bottom and moved toward the structure. The wall appeared from the murk much more clearly this time. The bright light showed the old stonework in detail.
The stone was old and badly darkened. The joints between the blocks were overgrown, and in places there were cracks. But overall the structure looked solid.
The door was shut tight. Vance stopped and placed a hand on one heavy panel. The wet wood was very cold.
He tried to push it open, but it did not move. He pushed harder. Nothing. “Door is locked,” he reported.
“Can you force it?” the consultant’s voice came through the line, perfectly calm. “Trying now,” Vance said. He braced his shoulder and leaned in with all his weight.
The wood groaned loudly. He pushed again, and the panel gave a little. It opened very slowly.
He squeezed through the narrow gap. Inside was total darkness. The powerful floodlight illuminated the vast interior.
The candles were no longer burning. The candle stands were still there, but empty. Melted wax had hardened in uneven streams across the metal.
The light moved over the altar, the old icon screen, the high vaults. Everything was empty. Vance moved forward carefully while the camera recorded every step.
He went around the icon screen and entered the main nave. The people were still sitting in their places. There were exactly 23 of them.
They were frozen in the same poses, hands folded neatly. Their faces were still turned toward the altar. But now they were completely motionless. Even their eyes no longer blinked.
Vance walked straight up to the front row. He aimed the floodlight directly at the nearest figure. It was the same elderly bearded man.
His face was still calm. His eyes were wide open, but the look in them was empty now. Whatever had been there before was gone.
Vance reached out and carefully touched the man’s shoulder. The fabric of the old robe was dense and very cold. He pressed lightly.
The body tipped and stayed where it fell. It did not right itself. “Bodies appear to be in rigid postmortem condition,” Vance reported.
“No signs of activity observed.” “Continue filming,” the consultant ordered. Vance slowly and methodically moved through all the rows.
He filmed each figure, their faces, hands, and clothing. All of them were equally still. All of them were equally dead.
He completed the circuit, returned to the starting point, and stopped. One figure was gone. The seat in the third row on the left was empty.
The young woman who had first turned her head during his first dive was no longer there. Vance stood still, puzzled. “Subject seven missing,” he said over the line.
“What do you mean missing?” the consultant’s voice turned sharp. “The seat is empty. The figure is gone. Are you certain she was there?”
“Absolutely certain. I remember her clearly.” There was a short, tense pause. “Search the entire structure immediately,” the consultant ordered.
Vance swept the floodlight across the whole church. He checked the walls, corners, and altar, but found no one. Then he moved toward a side room where it was darker.
The floodlight revealed a narrow passage leading into a utility chamber. The door there stood slightly ajar. Vance pushed it open and looked inside.
It was a small room with bare walls. In one corner stood a table, and on it lay a book. He stepped closer to examine it.
It was a thick book in an old leather binding. It lay open in the middle. Its yellowed pages were completely dry.
The text was written in old church script. Vance bent down and read. “And the service shall continue until the end of the age, so long as the church stands and so long as there are those who serve.”
“For this place is sanctified by blood and prayer, and grace shall not depart from it, even if covered by the waters of the sea.” Vance carefully turned the page. After that came a long list of names.
The names were men and women. Next to each was a date. The last entry was dated April 22, 1954—the day before the town was flooded.
“Book located,” Vance reported. “Recommend recovery.” “Take it,” the consultant answered at once.
Vance picked up the book. It was heavy and dense. He tucked it inside his suit and secured it with a strap…
