AN: Sequel to 'Corridors of the Mind.' This story wraps up the loose ends from that other one and answers questions like, 'Who wanted Brody dead?' and 'What really happend with Tony and the officer?' I know been a long time since I wrote 'Corridors of the Mind' but if you don't remember it, just read it again.

Depths Of The Soul
By Shell Lee


Jim woke up slowly. His head hurt and it felt like he had been run over by a big eighteen wheeler. He reached up to try and rub away some of the pain only to find he couldn't. He was strapped down to some kind of table.

"I see you have woken up." The voice only seemed to make the pain worse. "That's good." It seemed familiar but not. If only the little people with the jackhammers would let up for a moment, maybe he could think of why.

Whoever had him captive knew he was awake, so he just opened his eyes. Big mistake, the light only made the tap dancers more energetic. The voice chuckled. "You have a headache? That's understandable, after the crash you were in. Pity too. There's no way anyone could've survived that."

With that comment, the memories came back with a vengeance. He remembered everything. The shutle going out of control. Him yelling to Tony to get out of there and leave him. Tony flat out refusing. Them both watching as the ocean floor rushed up to meet them.

"Where's Piccolo?" Jim's voice sounded rough and unused.

"He's right here. If you just open your eyes, you'll be able to see him."

Slowly, to give his poor eyes a chance to adjust this time, Jim opened his eyes. He was in a dark reddish room, and next to him was Tony Piccolo strapped eagle to the wall.

"Is he alive?" Jim couldn't tell if the body was moving or not.

"Yes. For now."

"What do you mean 'for now'?" He closed his eyes against the light. It still hurt.

"I might decide to kill him later. Just like I might decid to kill you and screw the money I'm getting for you're sorry hide."

"What do you want with us?" The voice seemed chatty enough, if only it would stay that way, he might get enough information to get out of here, or at least find a way to get a message to the SeaQuest.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."


"Enough Questions!" The voice echoed off the metal walls. "You will find out everything soon enough."


"No." Lucas couldn't believe it. He was gone. His roommate and friend, Tony Piccolo, was dead. They had been getting closer ever since that fiasco with Mark Girodey. Under the surface, they had a lot in common.

Now he was dead.

"I'm sorry, Lucas. I know I'll miss them too." Wendy had only found out about the crash a few hours ago. She hated the fact that she had lost a student and friend. Beneath the tough guy surface, Tony was a good person, who wouldn't hurt a fly.

And Jim wasn't that bad either. He was noble and more serious than the first impression would indicate.

Their deaths would be hard felt among the crew.

"No, they can't be dead." She recognized the first stage of mourning, denial.

"I need to get back to my work in med bay. If you need anything, anything at all, even if it's just someone who'll listen, come down. My door's always open." She would've stayed longer but there were people in med bay depending on her. No matter how much she just wanted to mourn, the living demanded attention.

And she still had to tell Dagwood and Darwin.


Lucas just sat there, on Tony's bunk. It was too much. Dead, even the word was final. God, how would he be able to sleep? It'd be impossible now that the human buzz saw was gone. Lucas laughed. Tony hated it when Lucas called him that. It was getting back at the ex-con for calling him Luke.

It struck him that he would never be called Luke anymore. Lucas laid down on Tony's bunk and cried. He cried for all the little things, like name calling and fighting, and the big things, like talking about girls. Tony was the big brother he never had.

He would miss Jim too. He knew anything he didn't want to talk with Tony about, whether it was cause he wasn't comfortable about talking to Tony about it or that he was afraid Tony'd make fun of him for it; he could talk to Jim about. And he had.

They were gone. Dead. In the forever kind of way.

Something was wrong with that idea, though. He didn't know what. But there it was something deep down inside of him was yelling that they weren't dead, that they couldn't be dead.

It was a strong enough part that, when Lucas stopped crying, he got on his computer and started looking for anyway they could've survived.