by Alton Gansky
“Testing controls,” Sarah announced. She moved the stick in various directions. “Everything is perfect. Hairy is responding like a sports car.”
“I don’t see anything,” Tia said.
“There’s no light down there,” Griffin explained. “We’re looking at a world that hasn’t seen light for a very long time.”
“Activating stereoscopic cameras,” Sarah said. The dim light that had been pushing valiantly against the abysmal blackness suddenly had help. The monitor lit up and the image sharpened.
“What did you do?” Enkian asked.
“We’ve been looking through a single camera lens,” Sarah explained. “Because the probe was in a shaft, the only place we could place a camera was in the nose, but most of that area was taken up by the heating element. Hairy has stereoscopic cameras and lights, one set on each side of its hull. The lights give us better illumination, and having the cameras separated by Hairy’s width gives us the advantage of binocular vision.”
“Depth below?” Perry asked.
“Two hundred meters,” Sarah said.
“I thought the lake was deeper than that,” Larimore stated.
“It is,” Griffin explained. “It’s well over five hundred meters at its deepest point, but we’re stationed over the shallow end. The lake bottom slopes.”
“There’s an object below the ice, near the waterline on the southern shore,” Enkian said. “Head there.”
“How do you know that?” Jack asked.
“I know many things.”
“I should run some exercises before I send Hairy on an ex-tended trip,” Sarah said.
“Exercise on the way,” Enkian ordered.
“How far is it?” Sarah asked.
“Don’t embarrass yourself playing games,” Enkian said, his tone dark. “You’re here because of that object. This place was chosen because of its proximity to it.”
Perry frowned. Enkian knew too much, more than anyone should. Perry had even kept his closest friends out of the loop until they were on-site. Someone up the chain of command was talking about things meant to be secret.
Sarah looked at Perry as if he had a choice.
“Do it,” was all he said.
Henry Sachs sat on the sofa in the living room of his spacious home. At five thousand square feet, it was far too large for just him and his wife, but it served its purpose. Entertaining clients was part of his duties as president of Sachs Engineering. Senators and generals had walked the halls of his home, but those corridors were empty now except for the ghosts of memory.
Sachs pulled his wife of decades closer, tightening his embrace and listening to her soft sobs. He had kept the news from her as long as he could, but she had a right to know about her son. “We don’t know that he was on that plane,” Sachs had said, but the words reverberated with pessimism. He had reminded himself of Perry’s resolve, intelligence, strength, and faith, and he shared all of that with her. It was all hollow and as empty as the house that shrouded them in darkness, the house where Perry had grown up. A tree house he insisted on building himself remained in the large oak that shaded the backyard. It had been saved in hopes that Perry would settle down one day and provide Mom and Dad with grandchildren to spoil. Now it was a monument to an ended life.
Henry Sachs grieved in a way he never could have imagined. He hurt with a pain that could not be described. The ache was so deep he was sure his soul had shriveled like a grape left on the vine. He also knew that the woman he held grieved far more deeply than he could. It was what mothers did.
The phone rang, but Sachs ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to people. No one had words that could bring relief. None would sympathize in a way that would ease the pain.
It rang again. And again. The wireless phone sat on the table, refusing to be ignored. Sachs snapped it up. “What?”
“Please hold for the president,” a sweet voice said.
A moment later: “Henry?”
Sachs was surprised but too crushed to care. “Yes, Mr. President.”
“There’s a military transport waiting for you at the airport. I want you to come for dessert.”
“Thank you, Mr. President, but there’s no need. I appreciate the kindness but . . . but we’re just not up to it.”
“I understand, but you should come anyway. If you leave now, we can have pie by midnight.”
Something wasn’t right. Pie? “Sir, I don’t understand.”
“A driver will be at your door in the next five minutes.”
“But sir—”
“Henry, come to Washington.”
“I’m worried about running aground,” Sarah said. “The bottom is rising pretty fast.”
“Keep going,” Enkian said.
Sarah sighed. “I’m pushing against the current, which makes the device more difficult to control.”
“I said, keep going.”
Sarah nodded and held in check what she really wanted to say. She was sure this Enkian jerk had a very short fuse, and if he didn’t, his long-haired associate certainly did.
She pushed the stick forward, and it resisted. The control system was designed to give real-time feedback and sensory response. Sarah felt as if she were piloting the cryobot from inside. She focused on the readouts before her. The cameras were good, but no matter how high-tech, they were two-dimensional. After the initial exposure, the images lost clarity. Blackness was pierced by high intensity lights.
The lake bottom was rising, and she pulled the stick more. As the depth decreased, the force of the current subsided. Griffin had remarked that such was to be expected.
“She needs to stay off the bottom,” Perry said. “If she doesn’t, she might foul the line.”
Sarah took a quick look at him. He seemed composed, firm, and focused, but she could see the stress in his eyes. She didn’t know the man well, but he was unlike anyone she had met. He had showed courage and determination, but his most attractive quality was his concern for those around him. She could tell having his team in the grips of a gun-toting mob was weighing on him.
“She’s doing fine,” Enkian said.
A gauge reading grabbed Sarah’s attention. “Odd.”
“What?” Perry asked.
“My readings show that the bottom is rising, so I’ve decreased Hairy’s depth. We sound off the ice above. That distance, the distance between Hairy and the ice lid above, should be decreasing, but it’s not.”
“It’s following the slope of the lake bottom?” Perry asked.
“No,” Sarah answered. “It’s rising. In fact, it looks like . . . well, it looks like there is an airspace above the water and below the ice.”
“Let’s see,” Enkian ordered. “Take it up, but don’t damage the device against the ice.”
Sarah hated taking orders from the man. He had no hand in designing the cryobot, had done no work or planning to make all this happen. He had just shown up with his thugs. She pulled back on the stick. A moment later, the camera broke the surface of the water. Instead of an eerie and dark underwater scene, the monitor now showed a cavern with a ceiling of ice in the distance.
“Wow,” Gleason said. “It looks like a frozen Carlsbad Cavern.”
“Not nearly as large,” Perry said, “but much larger than I expected.”
“Turn to your left,” Enkian said. He seemed unimpressed with the ice cavern. “Quickly.”
Sarah pushed the stick to her left, and Hairy’s propellers redirected the view.
“There it is,” Enkian said.
“I don’t believe it,” Dr. Curtis remarked quietly. “It can’t be.”
“It is,” Enkian said. “Just as the prophecies said.”
Sarah turned to see Griffin’s jaw drop, then she looked at Perry, who stared at the image with unblinking eyes.
Looking back at the monitor, Sarah studied the rock formation that had captured everyone’s attention and blinked.
“You were right, Perry,” Jack said. “It’s a pyramid u
nder the ice.”
“Not a pyramid,” Enkian said. “Something far more impressive—a ziggurat. The ziggurat.”
“You can’t mean—” Dr. Curtis said.
“Bring the probe up,” Enkian ordered. “Prepare the other cryobot. I want it working in the next hour.”
“That’s impossible,” Perry said.
Sarah couldn’t see her captor’s expression, but she heard it in his voice. “Make it possible.”
Chapter 25
Perry was breathing hard, his body trying to suck more oxygen out of the thin, icy air. His back hurt, but it was only a tingle compared to the pounding in his head. Recent events had kept him from drinking the water and taking the pain relievers he needed to ward off the altitude sickness that always seemed to be at arm’s length.
Despite being winded, despite the jackhammer rattling in his skull, he kept working. Enkian had been serious about loading the larger cryobot in place and having it done in the hour. It was not an easy task. Perry had allowed a full day to make the switch, but Enkian cared nothing for Perry’s schedule.
Additional rigging was attached to the aluminum support frame, and larger guides had to be installed to allow for the greater circumference of the new probe. Despite the cold in the Chamber, sweat began to bead on Perry’s brow. Gleason and Jack were working just as hard, with Dr. Curtis, Griffin, and Gwen helping what little they could.
Guards hovered over each worker, offering no help and saying nothing. Wherever Perry moved, two armed men went with him. He tried to enlist them to help him carry a large bracket that would hold the cryobot until it was ready to be lowered. The gunmen just stared.
“It’s your boss’s project, you know,” Perry had said. “He might give you a bonus.” The men just raised the barrels of the machine guns a few inches.
Perry looked up from his place by the shaft and saw Enkian and Tia standing over Sarah and giving her orders about the position and direction of Hairy. He struggled to reconcile what he had seen on the monitor with everything he previously believed. He had known they were looking for an enigmatic object below the ice, one never before detected, but actually seeing it had quaked his soul.
“We need to name this,” Jack said.
“You and your penchant to name things,” Gleason said with a slight shake of the head.
Jack ignored him. “Hairy II seems so impersonal.”
“It’s an impersonal object,” Gleason replied.
“You see there?” Jack retorted. “That’s your problem. You’re too academic. Did you ever name a car? What’d you call your first set of wheels, Perry?”
“Ford.”
Jack shook his head. “I’m immersed in a romantic black hole.” He looked at the now-vertical cryobot which looked much like an upside-down rocket. “I dub thee Slick.”
“Slick like ice?” Gleason asked.
“I had a dog named Slick,” Jack said. “It’s the best I can do. I don’t do my best work under the gun—if you catch my drift.”
“Wait a minute,” Dr. Curtis said. He stepped to the monitor and looked at the even rows of stones, one laid upon another. Hairy was close, and Sarah had, at Enkian’s order, zoomed in the cameras for a tighter shot. He studied the image and then began to mutter. “Enkian and Tia . . . Tia and Enkian.” He stopped and turned to Tia. “What’s your last name?”
“Why?”
“Humor an old academic,” Curtis said. “It’s not like you’re going to let us out of here alive anyway. Besides, I doubt it’s your real name.”
She looked at Enkian, who was smiling. He nodded.
“Matteo.”
“Enkian and Tia Matteo,” Curtis repeated. “Why does that sound so familiar . . . Enki and Tiamat!”
Perry watched his friend closely. He also watched Enkian, whose wan smile unnerved Perry.
“That’s right, Dr. Curtis,” Enkian said. “You’re good at puzzles.”
“I know those names,” Perry said, “but I can’t place them. What am I missing?”
“They’re the names of Babylonian gods,” Curtis said. “In the Babylonian pantheon, they are the top dogs.”
“Don’t mock the gods, Dr. Curtis,” Enkian snapped, his smile dissolving in an instant. “I have no patience with such things. And not Babylonian. Pre-Babylonian.”
“Hold on,” Jack said. “Why would someone take the names of ancient gods?” His words ground to a halt. “You’re telling me that thing is . . . is the Tower of Babel?”
“Not a bad guess,” Enkian said.
“I can’t believe that,” Curtis said. “It’s in the wrong place. Maybe it’s just another pyramidal building. The Aztecs built them, the Egyptians, and others. Pyramid shapes are found all over the globe—they’re considered sacred shapes in many religions—but that’s a far cry from the Tower of Babel.”
“Is it?” Enkian said. “Do you think I would travel this far, spend this kind of money, take this kind of chance for just another pyramid? If I wanted to see ziggurats, I’d have flown to Iraq.”
“This is nonsense,” Curtis said. He looked at Perry. “I’m not buying it. It’s impossible, Perry. It’s beyond impossible. We’re at the South Pole. Babylon prospered in a land far from here.”
“What you believe is of no consequence to me,” Enkian said. “You can believe your eyes or not. I don’t care.” He turned back to Sarah. “It’s time to launch the new cryobot.”
“We have to pull Hairy back up,” she said.
“Disengage the power and optic lines,” Enkian said. “We no longer need it.”
Sarah turned, the color seeping from her face. “You’re not serious. You want me to just leave Hairy down there?”
“That’s exactly what I’m ordering. Now do it.”
“We can’t do that—”
“Yes, you can,” Enkian said. “When you explained the operation of the device to me, did you not say that it could be operated remotely through transmitters?”
“Yes, but we can’t transmit radio through two miles of ice, not with enough signal integrity to operate intelligently.”
“I don’t care about that. I’m assuming that the device is designed to release its umbilical. Is that true?”
Sarah didn’t answer.
“Your silence is answer enough,” Enkian said. “Cut it loose.”
“It won’t take that long to pull it up,” Sarah said. “We might need it later.”
“Don’t question me!” Enkian raised a hand to slap her.
Perry was there before the enraged man could begin his swing. Perry clamped a hand on the raised arm. A sharp pain pierced his side, and Perry dropped to the ice. He looked up to find Tia glaring down at him, the barrel of her gun pointed at his head—the same barrel she had just thrust into his ribs. “You are now expendable,” she said. Perry saw her finger tighten on the trigger.
“No. I have a job for Mr. Sachs.” Enkian directed his eyes to the dive suits.
“You can’t be serious,” Perry said, struggling to his feet.
“You’re the one who brought the suits.”
Perry chose not to respond. Enkian nodded at Tia, who stepped over to Griffin and placed the barrel of her gun to his throat.
“Ease up,” Perry says. “I’ll do it.”
Wide-eyed, Griffin rubbed his throat.
Perry stood next to one of the AD suits and examined it closely. The hardshell suit was going to be his lifeboat. Like an astronaut, he was going to be fully dependent on the suit. There were a dozen different ways in which he might die. If the suit’s heater failed, he’d freeze before they could pull him to the surface. If the suit had a flaw in its specially designed skin or in its articulated joints, then the high pressure of the lake could push freezing water in through the smallest of holes. It would be an unpleasant way to die. Other death scenarios floated in the dark waters of his mind, but he pushed them away. It was better to think of life.
A sound behind him made him turn. He saw Jack walking his way. Wi
th him were Griffin and Gleason.
“How you doing, buddy?” Jack asked, his face chiseled with concern.
“I’m okay.” He didn’t feel okay.
“Why don’t you let me go?” Jack said. “That woman gave you a pretty hard jab in the ribs.”
“You’re more busted up than I am,” Perry said. He looked at his friend’s blood-soaked sleeve. “And my ribs have fared better than yours did. Besides, I don’t think you’d fit in the suit.”
“I’d make it fit,” Jack said.
Perry nodded. “Yeah, I know you would, but I can’t allow it. From the beginning, the plan was that I would go down.”
“That’s only because you didn’t include us in the planning,” Gleason said.
“I’m sorry, but it had to be that way.”
“Then let me go,” Gleason said. “We’re about the same size. In fact, I’m a little smaller. I’d fit in the suit easily.”
Perry shook his head. “We’re not calling the shots. Besides, I’m the one who practiced in the suit before we came down. You’re not qualified.”
“I don’t believe this,” Griffin said. “You guys are trying to elbow out one another for the privilege of dying first.”
“We’ve always been a little competitive,” Perry said. He began to examine the suit, which hung on a metal support. “Batteries are charging, although I hope I won’t need them.” Power from the surface would supply the energy the suit needed to operate. The batteries were for backup. Perry thought about how quickly and easily Enkian had cut off Hairy. He was sure the man would cut him off with no more thought.
“I don’t understand,” Griffin said. “When they held the gun to my head, you didn’t hesitate to say you’d go down the shaft. I can understand why you’d do it for these guys, but why me? You don’t even like me.”
“I never said that, Griffin,” Perry said. “You’re a good man, just too full of yourself. Purpose and happiness aren’t found in knowledge.”
Griffin choked. “It’s the only thing I’ve found that brings me any peace.”
