Echoes of the Well of Souls watw-1

by Jack L. Chalker

  Juan Campos wasted no time at all calling in from a dedicated phone at the aircraft parking area. When he returned, he did not look all that happy.

  “My father, he says that I must go with the helicopter,” he told them. “This time it is not my idea!”

  “He’s right,” Maklovitch told them. “I just spoke to him myself on the same line. Mr. Campos is a little nervous about somebody taking up the chopper without one of his men along to see that we go only where we’re supposed to go and shoot just what we’re here to shoot, particularly since we’ll probably be gone well into daylight and they do expect others from the Brazilian side there not long after that. There was no talking him out of it; either Campos here goes or it’s no deal.”

  It didn’t need to be spelled out. After daylight in particular, coming in on this side of the border would reveal some sights camouflaged from routine aerial or satellite surveillance. If they saw them, it wasn’t any big deal, since they couldn’t be sure of their exact location. But no pictures. No more blackmail possibilities or nice photos for experts and their computers to mull over.

  “With the suitcases, that leaves only five seats, including the pilot,” Terry noted, not at all pleased by this turn of events. Flying into a disaster area fraught with sudden dangers and possible horrors didn’t faze her, it seemed, but the idea of being stuck out in the middle of nowhere with Juan Campos sure did. “Who stays?”

  “Well, I want you and Gus out there setting up and getting what you can,” Maklovitch told her. “They want me to do some more standups here and an initial wrap piece, so it looks like I come out with the second flight. They’re not at all sure if we can uplink with the rain, so you’ll need the extra setup time. I’ll bring a sound man and Brazil network people with me on the second ride. We’ll be in contact by radio.” He edged closer to her and added in a low whisper, “Besides, he’s got to come back with Bob to ensure he flies right.”

  Terry nodded. “Okay, then. Doc, you want to come with us now or wait for the second run? It’s probably going to be pretty wet and rough out there, but if you want to come along, feel free. At least you’ll be the first person with any scientific training at all to see the thing.”

  Lori didn’t like it, but she knew she had to go. “I’m coming. Nobody in the history of known science has been able to get this close to an impact of this magnitude so soon. What about rain gear?”

  “Senorita Doctor,” Juan Campos said, “you could wear anything you wished and it would not help when the rain falls. Even with little wind, the rain is so strong and so powerful, it cannot be described but must be experienced. Best to seek shelter when it starts, dress light except for the mud boots, and have one or more dry changes of clothes packed away.”

  “Well, we don’t have any rain slickers, anyway,” Gus noted. “Got some wide hats that’ll help and a couple of umbrellas, for all the good they’ll do, but that’s it.”

  “We’ll manage,” Lori said, not at all certain that it was true. “I’ve been drenched before.”

  Once up in the air, they didn’t need a map to find where to go even in the darkness of the jungle. There were still fires burning all around, and the eerie yellow glow from the crater seemed almost like some great aircraft beacon.

  “What’s causing that pulsing?” Terry asked the scientist. “I mean, I don’t know much about this, but that’s not normal, is it?”

  “Nobody quite knows what’s ‘normal’ in a situation like this, but I can’t explain it and wouldn’t have expected it. It could be rapid heating and cooling, but it seems almost too regular for that. That’s one of the things we might be able to find out if we can get close enough.”

  “Looks pretty promising,” Bob told them. “There’s still lightning and thunderstorms all around, but the area immediately around the crater looks like just smoke from the thing itself.”

  “The white smoke coming from it now is probably mostly steam,” Lori told them. “Groundwater or runoff from the storm is going down the crater, hitting that very hot bottom, and instantly coming back up.”

  “Kind of like a geyser,” Gus said, nodding.

  “Something like that. Or a fumarole. That’s a relative of the geyser that erupts constantly, spouting steam with a roar. It may be days, weeks, even longer before the crater is cool enough to allow people to descend, although the scientific teams probably have moon suits and could do it in a matter of a day or so. They go into still-active volcanic calderas in them.”

  “Too bad we don’t have any of those suits in the budget,” Gus commented. “I’d like to get a down-the-throat shot.”

  They were quite close now, close enough to see the strange yellow-gold shape at the bottom, even though that bottom was a quarter of a mile deep and still shrouded in steam.

  “Funny,” Terry said, looking at the unearthly scene. “I don’t see that dark spot now. Maybe you were wrong, Gus. Maybe it was just a trick of the camera.”

  “Not like that,” Gus maintained. “There’s nothin’ to cause that kind of thing.” He frowned. “I tell you, Terry, if that thing opens up and some Martian machine pops out, I’m runnin’!”

  “I’m more curious as to why the crater isn’t deeper,” Lori commented. “It’s amazingly shallow for something that large coming in at that kind of speed.”

  “Looks plenty big enough to me,” Gus replied.

  “Sure, but the velocity at impact had to be close to Mach 3, maybe more. You crash anything going at close to three thousand kilometers per hour and you’re going to get one whale of a deep hole. With an object twenty, maybe thirty meters across or more—it was very hard to tell—the crater should be many times deeper than it is. There are a lot of unexpected phenomena here. Enough, I’m afraid, to shake up several disciplines. They’ll be years figuring this thing out! And that firestorm—it shouldn’t have happened. An asteroid’s just a huge piece of rock, and there’s nothing in the jungle to ignite or explode that way. There must have been some sort of gas or explosive material that went up on impact. This is a very strange thing, indeed, we have here.”

  “Like that place in Siberia you were talking about?” Terry asked.

  “As mysterious as that, only very different in the phenomena. At least this time we’re on the scene.” She sighed. “I wish I had some instruments here. At least I could take initial measurements. It might be nice to know if this area’s now radioactive, for example.”

  “Radioactive!” Gus exclaimed nervously. “You mean we might be going into something like that?”

  “It’s possible. We don’t really know what’s orbiting out there in space.” Another cheery thought, that comes too late, she mused to herself.

  Terry looked down at what was rapidly resembling a moonscape. “Think any natives are down there? I heard all sorts of stories about some of these tribes.”

  “Impossible!” Juan Campos responded. “You see it. What could have lived through that impact, not to mention the firestorm?”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Bob noted. “I’ve seen bombardments so thick you couldn’t believe a gnat could live through it, but when they went in afterward an amazing number of people were still alive and in fighting shape afterward. You never know. Still, I’d think that any of the primitives alive in these parts are still running. To them, this had to feel like the end of the world. It’s possible to live through a bombardment, but those who have say it’s the most terrifying thing imaginable, and they knew what was going on. Imagine how afraid these savages must be with no idea of what was going on.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve seen that sort of thing, too,” Gus admitted. “But I ain’t so sure about the reaction. I wish we’d brought along a couple of those guns.”

  “You would never be able to use them, senor,” Campos said matter-of-factly. “The Indians would not be seen until they wished to be seen. The darts in their blowguns are tipped with poisons and sharp enough to go through clothing, and they are accurate. These people also know wh
at guns do and will guard against them. There may be a tribe or two that still are ignorant of the outside world, but I doubt it. They just do not like our world and ways, rejecting them in favor of the jungle and their own ancient life-style. But I think our pilot friend is right. This would have frightened them and awed them far too much for them to become curious. In a few days, or weeks, they might investigate, but not right off.”

  The pilot surveyed the area. He didn’t need the helicopter spotlights to see the general area, not with the glow from the crater and the illumination of the newly risen moon, but the searchlight gave detail to the immediate ground surface. “I can’t tell how hot it is, particularly with all the charred vegetation, but there’s a clear spot over there about a kilometer from the crater that looks like good, solid rock. It’s not raining now; you might just get lucky if it’s cool enough.”

  “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” Lori responded. “The immediate area was burned quickly in the firestorm.”

  The pilot set the helicopter down gently. Terry cautiously opened the door, looked down, grabbed a large flashlight, and then stepped out onto the surface. Fine dust and ash blew around from the backwash of the rotor blades, but she reached down and felt the soil and nodded. “Slightly warm, but no big deal,” she shouted back into the cabin.

  They all got out now except the pilot and Campos, who handed down the three large silver suitcases containing the portable dish unit to Gus. The three quickly moved away so that the helicopter could lift off. They all had their canteens, first-aid kits, and sufficient rations for the short time they would be there.

  They watched the chopper rise, hover a moment as if reluctant to leave, then head out to the west toward the Campos compound. It was quickly swallowed up in the clouds and night. The blowing ash settled, and when they moved back in to retrieve the equipment, they were startled to see a form standing there.

  “I decided to remain with you,” said Juan Campos. “Even under these conditions, this is a dangerous place for two senoritas and one unarmed man.”

  All three of them had an uneasy feeling about the man, but there wasn’t much they could do. Forty minutes, Terry thought frantically. Maybe less, each way, with maybe twenty on the ground. Not even two hours. He has to know that. But the animal lurking under that civilized veneer of his wasn’t buried very deep, and it might not think that far ahead.

  “I thought you had to guide the helicopter back and forth,” Terry said aloud to him.

  “Oh, he does not have any equipment in the helicopter. It is ours, after all. He will have no trouble finding his way back, either—he is a good pilot—and there is little for him to see until dawn. It is safe enough for now.”

  She sighed. “Well, then, help us lug this stuff over to a reasonably flat, stable area and help us set it up.”

  There was the sound of not so distant thunder. “Is all that waterproof?” Lori asked. “I think it might well get rained on, and us, too.”

  “Oh, it’s pretty well sealed,” Gus assured her. “Just keep the control box lid down tight and latched in a direct downpour. The big problem is stabilizing the dish, particularly in a heavy wind, along with the fact that ku- bandsignals are real bad in rain and heavy weather.”

  “We better think of some shelter for ourselves, too, just in case,” Lori said. “This place looks pretty blasted, but over there the trees seem scorched but still standing.”

  “You can take the small flashlight and have a look-see,” Gus told her, “but I wouldn’t go too far ‘round here. There’s all sorts of mean, nasty critters live in these places, and it’s pretty damn sure not all of ‘em got blown to hell or had the sense to run.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she came back sarcastically. What she really wanted to do was have a look at that crater, but until they were set up, there wasn’t much she could do about that. She could see it, though, so tantalizingly close, with its eerie yellow glow and its strange, regular pulsing. It might be irresistible after a while.

  From the jet, the whole region had looked more like the landing zone, but here, on the ground, it was much different. A surprising amount of the jungle was intact, although it showed the effects of blast and fire. Huge areas had been uprooted almost instantly, the giant trees lying there, all pointing away from the crater. Still, even here, the roots of some were so deep, and the underbrush was so thick below them, that large stands survived, and it appeared that the blast had affected barely another kilometer or two of the jungle beyond their camp. It indicated that the blast had been far less powerful than she’d originally thought and that the firestorm had occurred not on impact but ahead of it, not destroying the jungle but burning away the top instead.

  She suddenly thought she saw something moving in the darkness and swung the flashlight toward it. The beam fell on an enormous, hairy multicolored spider standing atop one of the blasted trees. For a moment she couldn’t tell if it was dead or alive, but then, suddenly, it jumped out of the beam and to her right.

  She decided that she’d had enough exploring for the night and hurried back to the others.

  “Find anything?” Gus asked as he finished the assembly of the main dish with a socket wrench. “Jumping spiders,” she told him nervously. “Bird spider,” Campos elaborated, helping Gus mount the dish into the suitcase console. “Very common here. They will attack if threatened but will try to run away if they can. So something did live through all this, then?”

  Gus was a little more worried. “Sounds like we was talkin’ sense up there. I bet there’s more life still around here than anybody’d thought.”

  “Perhaps you are right, senor,” Campos agreed. “In which case it will be a very good idea to stay away from the trees unless we must use them for shelter. The spiders and most insects are not big problems, but the snakes can be very dangerous, and if anything would survive all this it would be la anaconda and her kin.”

  The satellite dish was mounted into the main suitcase unit; Gus took out a small sledgehammer, pounded stakes into the rock and anchored the dish to them with a strong wire. He jiggled the thing a few times, then seemed satisfied.

  “Next thing we do is see if we have juice from the battery pack, and then I’ll try and align this sucker,” he said.

  One whole suitcase, it appeared, was a battery. “How long does that thing last?” Lori asked him.

  “Oh, about an hour at full power, maybe more at a lower setting.” He used a small electronic device to take a preliminary sighting, then switched on the unit and plugged in a tiny Watchman-style television that showed only snow. Checking the instrument often, he turned a few cranks on the dish mount, and suddenly a very snowy test pattern came in. It was somewhat distorted, weak, but it was there.

  Terry plugged in a headset and threw a small switch. The television went black, but she paid no attention and instead said, “Hello, Atlanta. Hello, Atlanta. This is Terry at the crater. Do you receive us? Over.” She toggled the switch down.

  “Audio is fair,” a tinny voice in her ear responded. “No video. Over.”

  Toggle. “We don’t have a camera plugged in yet. Because of power limits and distance to the crater, we are unable to do live shots from the rim, but as soon as John gets here, we’ll go out with the hand-held and then immediately feed tape. Over.”

  “Understood. There is a storm over the base at the moment delaying everything. Best guess is that it’ll be about two hours until it clears and they can get to you. Advise you use the time for pickup shots if the weather is still clear there. If Sutton is up to it, try her in a standup. Feed what you get when you get it, but leave at least fifteen minutes. Over.”

  Two hours!“Uh—we might have a problem before that,” she said low into the mike. “We have the nonteam member present and armed. Over.”

  “Can’t do much about it. Handle it the best you can. We are advised of the situation from the pilot at base. Do whatever you have to. Suggest you shut down now until you are ready to feed. Over.”

&n
bsp; When you make deals with the devil, make sure it is you making the deal.

  “All right. As you said, nothing much can be done about it. Out.” She looked over at the cameraman. “Shut it and seal it, Gus,” she told him. “They want us to do pickups at the crater if the weather holds.”

  The thunder rumbled across the ghostly landscape.

  “That storm is toward the rancho,” Campos noted. “I can tell. The storms do not last all that long, but they are fierce and they can be a problem. I think perhaps the helicopter will be late.”

  Damn it!Terry thought sourly. At least he could have been a little less clever. “It’s raining there now,” she admitted to him. “But they don’t think it’ll be a serious problem unless it comes this way.”

  There was a sudden, extremely bright bolt of strobo-scopic lightning close by, and then a very loud explosion of thunder.

  “I hate to say it,” Gus yelled, “but I think we got that serious problem!”

  Before anyone could reply, there was a sudden rush of wind and the heavens opened with a vengeance. It wasn’t like any storm Lori had ever known; the rain was so heavy and dense, it was nearly impossible to see, and the roaring sound was deafening. Campos and the two women grabbed the flashlights and Gus snatched up the portacam unit, fortunately still in its case, and they headed for the shelter of the trees, spiders and snakes be damned. There was no hope of staying dry; as Lori ran toward the jungle, she was soaked through in an instant, and she could feel the intensity of the downpour as it pounded her through her clothing.

  The trees were not the shelter they would have been only hours before, but there were places where the rain was deflected by higher foliage in spite of the fire damage. Surrounded by gushing waterfalls of runoff from the tree tops, the spot she found was fairly well protected.

  She’d been afraid that she would slip and fall on the rock or trip over some wreckage of the destroyed forest, but somehow she’d managed to make it without mishap. Now, sheltered and catching her breath, she was aware of a series of sharp, thundering explosions that reverberated through the jungle. In a moment she realized that they were all coming from the same direction—the crater!