Chapter 28

 

 

The ice wall disappeared, and Perry felt himself falling. He was surrounded by black, the lights on his helmet pressing against a darkness they could not expel. He jerked and raised his arms to balance himself, but it was a useless gesture. The sudden loss of all visual clues slammed the accelerator on his heart. Panic was tempting him.

He took several deep breaths. He wasn’t falling. The cable was still attached to his suit. The motion he had felt was the pressure of the current that Griffin had described earlier. It had pushed Hairy around a little; of course it would push him.

“You okay, pal?” Gleason’s words oozed from the communication system. They sounded good but far too distant. “Your heart rate just went through the roof.”

“Yeah . . . yeah, I’m fine. Just startled when the current hit me.”

“Take a minute,” Gleason said. “There’s bound to be some disorientation.”

“You think?”

“I don’t need to tell you where you are, Perry. You’re in a place no one has ever been before.”

“Except the guys who built the ziggurat.”

“Yeah, well, they haven’t been around for a while. Tell us what you see.”

The comment puzzled Perry at first. They were seeing what he was seeing. The video feed traveled from cameras on his suit to the surface. Then it hit him: Gleason was making an effort to get Perry to focus, to talk, to calm down. He wished he were a character in an adventure novel. Those guys never showed any fear. But he wasn’t. He was a human pendulum swinging in the dark at the end of a very long cable. Perry decided talking was a good idea.

“It’s dark. Really dark. My lights are penetrating only a few feet—no, wait, scratch that. I think it’s an illusion. There’s nothing for the light to fall on. I’m getting no bounce-back.”

“That’s our take on it, Perry. I should have thought of that after seeing the images from Hairy.”

Perry tried to focus his eyes, but there was little to focus on beyond his helmet. He raised a hand and saw the suit’s white shell appear. There was no hand to see, just the manipulator which operated from within the suit. The pressure would be too great for a mere glove. The light bounced back with such intensity that it hurt his eyes. “The water is so clear it’s as if I’m floating in space. I was expecting some particles in the water. This stuff is cleaner than tap water.”

“How do you feel about kicking up the power on the lights?”

The suit was designed with several sets of light banks. Each bank carried two groupings of halogen bulbs. Perry couldn’t have them all on while descending the shaft. That much light reflecting off the ice would have blinded him. “Will do.”

Slowly—Perry had no other way of moving—he reached for the control panel on his left wrist and activated the other lights. The buttons were protected from the pressure and water by a plastic shield.

The area around Perry lit up. He was centered in a sphere of light. He let slip a nervous laugh. “I feel like a UFO.” This time, he could see bits of white floating in the distance. “Ice specks.”

“We see them. Griffin says you pushed out ice bits when you emerged, just like Hairy did.”

“Makes sense.”

“You should press on,” Gleason said. There was an edge to his voice. It didn’t take much imagination to guess that Enkian was growing impatient again. “Sarah says you should orient yourself ten degrees north and proceed straight ahead. Depth below you is 220 meters, but that will decrease as you move forward.”

“Understood,” Perry said, glad to have something to do. “Activating heads-up display.” He pressed another button on the control panel and several orange displays appeared around the periphery of the face mask. He could see the outside temperature, which was well below freezing, the water being kept liquid by the high pressure. He could also see that the temperature inside the suit was a comfortable sixty-one degrees. He found the compass indicator and took a bearing. “Engaging props.” Small propellers positioned at his shoulders and waist began to move him forward. An onboard computer gauged Perry’s vertical orientation and automatically adjusted the speed of the independent propellers to prevent him from tumbling like a sock in a dryer.

“Sarah says propulsion is normal.”

“Yeah, it’s working fine,” Perry said.

Gleason came back on the line. “Our friend wants you to make the best speed possible.” His words were terse.

“This thing only has two speeds: slow and slower. If he has any complaints, he can come down here and show me how to do it.”

There was no response. Perry focused on steering the suit through the water with a control built in the left arm. When the propulsion system was activated, the left-hand manipulator became the equivalent of a steering wheel. By twisting the wrist left or right, up or down, he could control his motion in three dimensions. It had taken hours of practice in the NASA tank, but he had finally gotten the hang of it. Here it was different. In the test tank, Perry could see the bottom, the surface, and the tank’s walls. Under the ice, Perry could see several meters in front of him, but with nothing to reflect his lights, he was flying in a fog. Like a pilot at night, he was maneuvering by instruments alone.

“Depth is now 175 feet and rising,” Gleason said. “The bottom is rising quickly.”

“Fine with me,” Perry said. “Cable is feeding well?”

“Perfect.”

“I’m going to kick it into high gear.”

“Noted. Don’t get any speeding tickets.”

“Okay, Dad,” Perry quipped. He set the propulsion system to the next level, increasing his speed through the water another knot or two. He was moving against the current but still making headway. At least the trip back will be faster.

Something swam past, and Perry jumped in the suit. “Did I just see that?”

“Sarah let out a whoop. She must have seen it too. What was it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get a look . . . wait, there’s another one. Wow! Is Gwen seeing this?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s bouncing like a cheerleader.” Perry could hear excited yammering over Gleason’s words. “She wants you to get closer.”

“It’s in my path, so I have no choice.” Before Perry was an amorphous blob of white. It pulsed. As he neared, Perry could see long strands of tissue hanging from beneath it. It also had pale green lights along its tentacles. “It looks like a jellyfish of some kind.”

“Gwen says she doesn’t recognize it.”

“The thing is the size of a softball,” Perry said. “How can it live down here?”

“I don’t . . . wait . . .”

“Perry, it’s Gwen.” Her excitement carried over the distance. “This is remarkable. This is unbelievable. I never would have guessed. It’s an unknown species of cnidarian, a very simple form of life. The cnidarians we know of have only two layers of tissue—no head, gut, or brain.”

“It’s pretty . . . in its own way.”

“The lights are bioluminescent. Now that you’re closer I can see the lights moving. The comb jellyfish does something similar. The lights run along its body. The interaction of luciferin and luciferase produce flashes of light.”

“It doesn’t seem bothered by me.”

“It doesn’t think, Perry. It’s mostly water and about one percent tissue. The rest is . . . ow!”

“Gwen? Are you there, Gwen?”

“It’s Gleason again, Perry. Mr. Enkian isn’t keen on all the PBS talk.”

“Understood,” Perry said, biting his tongue. They were the first people to see this new form of life, and they were being forced to ignore it.

“Depth is one hundred feet and decreasing.”

Perry moved forward.

 

Jack turned his attention from the screen to watch the action taking place near the center of the Chamber. Boxes, some made of cardboard, others of wood, and still others of plastic had been carried in from Enkian’s plane. The crew opened each box with an unexpected delicacy. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he stepped away from the monitor and approached two of Enkian’s men who were opening one of the plastic boxes. Two guards walked with him.

“Lunch?” Jack asked. “I hope you brought enough to share.”

The men ignored him. Instead they reached inside the container and gently removed an object.

“A rock?” Jack said with surprise. “You guys transported rocks to Antarctica?”

 

The water remained clear, and Perry could see the bottom rising to meet his feet. He slowed the propulsion system and cut it off once his feet touched the soft, sandy surface. “Feet down,” Perry said.

“What’s the surface like?” Gleason asked.

“Sort of a sandy-mud. It’s a little slippery, but I’m having no trouble standing.” He looked around him. Bits of the bottom floated in front of his helmet. Perry wondered how long the bits of debris had rested on the bottom before he came along to disturb them. “I can see the surface. It’s maybe five feet over my head.” The powerful lights reflected off of the shimmering surface, making it look as if a layer of mercury had been dumped on the water.

He took a step and felt the lake bottom give slightly under his feet. The suit responded well, but he still felt as if he were strolling though syrup. Like Armstrong on the moon, he pushed himself through the alien territory, but unlike the lunar astronauts, Perry felt not only his own weight but that of the water. It was work, despite his having adjusted the dive suit’s buoyancy.

Each step brought him closer to the surface. He stopped to take a couple of deep breaths. “This is a little like work,” he said.

“Take your time, pal,” Gleason said. “That thing has been down there a long time. No need to press things now.”

Perry saw something to his left, a large cylinder he knew well. “My navigation is pretty good. I found Hairy.” The cryobot lay lifeless on the bottom. Sarah had guided it close to shore and raised it so that its camera broke the surface that was just a foot above Perry’s head. “It seems to have slid back a few feet. Probably happened when the cable disconnected.”

“Makes sense,” Gleason said.

Perry took a few more steps. The work was getting more difficult, and he was feeling a tug on his back. The cable that kept him connected to the surface was becoming deadweight. The plastic lines that shielded the fiber optics and communication lines had been designed to counter the weight of the cable. They carried enough buoyancy per foot of length to cancel the weight of a foot of metal cable. Even so, Perry now had to tug much of it behind him.

“Maybe I’m too old for this kind of work,” he said. “I feel like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Did you ever see that movie?”

“No, but I read about it in the history books,” Gleason joked. “I wish there was something we could do.”

Perry looked up. The surface was just inches above his head. “Okay, here goes.” Perry took two more strides, and his helmet broke the surface, water pouring off his faceplate in sheets. The lights that had been struggling against water were now set free in an open area of air. “Wow,” Perry said, lifting his head. It was the same scene he had seen through Hairy’s electronic eye, but the best video image could never replace the created human eye.

He was standing neck deep in Lake Vostok, his helmeted head above the surface like a beach ball. Fifty feet above him was an ice ceiling that arched down to either side. He estimated the distance from wall to wall was three hundred feet. Perry felt as if he were trapped in an upside-down bowl.

“Amazing,” he whispered. Straight ahead about fifteen feet away was the side of a building, a brick wall that sank beneath the shore and rose until it disappeared into the ice ceiling. The scale of it was impossible to take in. The wall’s edges disappeared into ice on either side. From the surveys conducted before the mission began, Perry knew the ziggurat covered several acres. He was standing at the base of a man-made mountain. The receding ice had only laid bare a small portion of the ancient structure, but it was enough to knock Perry back on his heels.

There was a scratching sound that pulled Perry’s attention back. “I’m getting some noise on the line.”

“Sachs, this is Enkian. Press on.”

“What, no ‘please’?” Perry moved up the gentle slope, the water level moving down his suit. The cable became heavier as more of it was pulled from the water. The suit was becoming a problem. It wasn’t designed to stroll around on dry land. Perry pushed forward, grunting with each step. After what seemed like a mile journey,

carrying a backpack of concrete, Perry stood close enough to touch the ziggurat.

“How I wish I were you right now,” Enkian enthused. “You are about to touch what has been hidden for millennia.”

Perry was sweating, and his heart was slamming. “Yeah, well, I’d trade places with you if I could.” He leaned forward and laid his left-hand manipulator on the surface. The only sensation was of resistance. He wondered what the building felt like. “The surface is largely intact. You were right. The larger stones are made of smaller bricks, and a few of them are loose.”

“Pick one up.”

Fortunately, Perry did not have to bend over far. Sections of the wall had crumbled, leaving bricks at the base sticking out from the sloped surface. Perry found one in easy reach, closed the three-fingered manipulator hand around the brick, and pulled.

“Gently!” Enkian ordered.

“I’m doing my best. Back off.” Perry wiggled the brick until it came free. “It appears to be smooth, almost glazed.”

“That’s how the Babylonians did it. The outer surface was covered in glazed brick. There are several ziggurats still standing, so we know this to be true. Turn it over.”

Perry did as ordered, twisting the manipulator so the various sides of the object could be seen in the artificial light.

“Stop! Turn it back around.”

Perry did and saw what caught Enkian’s attention—writing. “It looks like a bunch of lines and dots.”

“It’s a type of cuneiform. It predates Hebrew and any other script you know about.”

“So we can’t read it,” Perry said. He looked at a string of marks.

“I know what it says,” Enkian remarked. “It’s the name of an ancient god—Marduk.”

Perry brought the brick to his waist and dropped it in a thick plastic bag. This would keep him from having to hold on to the artifact while being towed back to the surface.

There was a pop.

The lights went out, suffocating Perry in abysmal blackness. “I’ve lost lights,” he said calmly. There was no response. “I say again, I’ve lost lights.” Nothing. Just the sound of his own breathing. “Um, hello. Anybody there?”

Nothing. The sudden darkness had startled Perry, but the next realization terrified him. He couldn’t hear the fans that circulated warm air though his suit.

The suit had lost all power. Perry began to sweat as the cold began to seep in.