Forbidden the Stars Part 7

"Yes."

"Caught with our pants around our ankles, I would say," Alliras put in. "d.a.m.n."

They were interrupted by a message sent from Calbert. The cas.e.m.e.nt appeared over the DMR of the survey playback. "Michael, one of our probe sentries has picked up small ma.s.s readings in the event area."

"Be right there," he replied, and the three men hurried back to the Operations Center.

Calbert greeted them with a nod. He pointed his hand to a medium-sized DMR on the east wall.

"Initial readings indicate a number of objects, ranging from 50 kg to 5000 kg ma.s.s."

"Meteors?"

"No, ion pulse radar shows the objects as irregular, not cylindrical or spherical. We should be getting an image in about three minutes."

The technicians and operators in the room all ceased their work and looked up at the DMR as the screen flicked to visual camera.

There was nothing on the screen at the moment, but the radar magnification indicated a range of 932 meters.

At a range of 500 meters, several objects could be discerned. One looked like the remnants of a Nelson II drill. Closer still, and the ATV could be seen, horribly mangled and burned.

One hundred meters in, the probe picked up two objects: the bodies of the two surveyors.

"Alive?" Michael shouted.

A tech punched a command sequence into his keyboard, and reported, "No, sir."

"d.a.m.n!" Alliras swore; it was becoming a mantra.

Another technician reported, "All other objects identified as equipment from the survey team. Tools, rations, other accouterments." Specific details at this point was lost on Michael and the others.

"What about the TAHU?"

"No sign, sir."

"Recover everything out there," Michael directed. "I want a detailed report and autopsy on my desk by nine tomorrow."

The probe would magnetize the objects and drag them back to the Canuck Flyer Canuck Flyer, the mining orbiter, a large complex the surveyors used as a way station between Luna and the asteroids. With hundreds of engineers and processing technicians on board at any given time, there was a more than adequate mechanical and chemical laboratory, as well as an experienced medical staff on hand, more than qualified to perform the necessary procedures.

"What happened to Alex Manez?" Alliras said, but no one ventured an answer.

Michael, his body stiff, turned from the operations room and headed for the conveyor.

Alliras accompanied him down the hall. When Michael punched the up b.u.t.ton for the conveyor, intending to ride to the seventeenth floor where his office was located, Alliras said, "I think I'll go home to my wife, if that's all right."

"I wish I could do the same," Michael said in a soft voice. "Right now, I have to write a press release for the media, and I have a few unpleasant calls to make to Margaret and Gabriel's families."

"I don't envy you that task. By tomorrow, SMD stock might well be worthless."

When the Alliras's conveyor arrived first, he shook Michael's hand. "I'm truly sorry about all this. I hate to sound clinical, but unless we can find out what that element your surveyors found on Macklin's Rock, there's no upside to this. The media will eat us for breakfast. We'll lose our funding and our charter."

"I know. Take care, Alliras. See you tomorrow." "I'll stop by mid-morning, if that's all right."

"Just fine. Convey my apologies to Angela."

"I will. Try to get some sleep tonight yourself."

"Right."

Alliras stepped inside the conveyor tube. He nodded and tried to give Michael a smile as the doors shut.

The second tube arrived, and Michael rode it up to the top floor of the building.

In his office, he place two commlink calls. One to the Manez Family, and one to the Sheridans, and expressed his condolences as best as he could for the loss of their children and for their missing grandchild.

He then typed a short press release or the media, posted it on the a.s.sociated Press Mesh Board, Highest Priority, then turned off his computer, opened the liquor cabinet and withdrew a bottle of scotch. He poured himself a stiff measure in a plastic coffee cup.

After a quarter of an hour, he placed a commlink call to his home.

"Hey, babes," he said when his wife, Melanie, answered.

"You're still at work?" she asked.

"Yeah. I think I might be a while. All-nighter. Gotta be here in case they find anything."

"What's wrong?"

Michael had to take a deep breath, and then he filled her in. They talked over the link for three hours.

He made sure to tell her he loved her before hanging up.

Michael finally stretched out on the couch in his office to try to catch a few winks.

Unknown :

Disconnected.

Free falling.

Force of pressure.

The depths of s.p.a.ce.

Lost in the farthest reaches.

Found by the light of Sol.

All things seen as if one.

Nothing is possible when everything is gone.

Feeling his way through the mora.s.s of darkness.

Screaming against the vast vacuum of madness and pain.

Sailing with the solar wind as guide to his destination.

For one instant he feels the power of all.

The next moment the call comes to him.

It is power; it is for him.

The beacon of a million stars.

The sh.o.r.es of all consciousness.

The signal is Home.

It calls him.

Come, Alex.

Come.

USA, Inc. Exploration Site : Mission Orcus 1 Orcus 1 : : Pluto :

Helen's voice of authority cut off the argument that threatened to boil over from the collected scientists. of authority cut off the argument that threatened to boil over from the collected scientists.

"We've got something on the spectrograph sensor at the artifact site. It's the Dis Pater Dis Pater." Immediately, Henrietta Maria and Sakami Chin rushed over to the communications desk.

Sakami's eyes flashed all over the communications boards. "What is it?" the planetologist asked.

Helen replied in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

"It's glowing-and the sensor reports that it's giving off electromagnetic wave vibrations. Initial wave length at 6662.04 angstroms, a frequency of 450 terahertz increasing in frequency at an accelerating rate of 60 terahertz per hour per hour."

"Can it do that?" George Eastmain, the astrophysicist, shook his head in disbelief.

Helen shrugged; her specialty was navigation and communication. "Maximum wave length of 3997.23 angstroms will be reached in approximately five hours."

The captain speculated, "Some kind of broadcast? Could the Dis Pater Dis Pater be some kind of antenna array? If so, where is the broadcast originating?" be some kind of antenna array? If so, where is the broadcast originating?"

"Unknown."

Between 7000 and 4000 angstroms is the visible spectrum of light. Something's coming at us!" exclaimed Dale Powers, calculating the mathematics in his head: "... At just under the speed of light!"

Justine raced for her bio-eco suits.h.i.+eld, and donned it in record time. With her, the Science Team dressed and entered the air lock, leaving Helen behind to monitor communications and control.

Taking the ATVs, both packed with a.n.a.lytic and survey equipment readers, the group raced for the artifact.

Twenty minutes after the initial reading reported by Helen, the Science Team and the captain gathered around the monolith. For a few moments, they did not move from the ATV, so stunned were they by the change in Dis Pater Dis Pater.

The color of the monolith had changed from transparent to a deep cherry red. They heard the cyclic wave emissions as a hum, which resonated in a growing and lessening volume.

Justine swallowed. "All right people; let's act like we know what we're doing. I want every kind of reading you can imagine taken on that thing." When they did not react immediately, she spoke in a loud commanding voice, "And I want it ten minutes ago!"

Quickly, the six scientists spread out to check the existing a.n.a.lytical equipment, and soon, reports were filtering in from each area of expertise.

Justine retrieved the AV interface camera, and filmed everything as it happened. She gave instructions to Helen to EPS live to Luna station. The power costs would be extraordinary, but if the CEO of the United States of America wanted some tangible information, she was going to give it to him in spades.

Ekwan was the first to call out. "I read temperature change."

"Specify," Justine ordered, a.s.suming temporary command of the Science Team. If Dale Powers had any objections, he did not voice them.

"Surface temperature of artifact rising," the j.a.panese scientist explained. "minus 210.8C...minus 210.1C...minus 209.6C..."

"Projections?"

Ekwan consulted his computer. At Ground Zero, temperature will read 0.0C"

"Interesting," Justine said. "Peripheral effects? Climatology of the surrounding area?"

Ekwan shook his head. "It depends on how long Dis Pater Dis Pater holds that heat. We could have a few isolated whirlwinds, maybe some nitrogen hail or methane rain. If the artifact cools quickly, there is nothing to worry about. I'm a.s.suming it will begin to cool once... holds that heat. We could have a few isolated whirlwinds, maybe some nitrogen hail or methane rain. If the artifact cools quickly, there is nothing to worry about. I'm a.s.suming it will begin to cool once...whatever...reaches us."

George Eastmain reported, "The thing is changing color slowly. It's going through the entire visible spectrum. The color right now equates to about 6,250 angstroms. Over the next few hours, we'll see it get light red, then yellow for a few minutes, changing into the greens, then blues, and finally into the violets at Ground Zero-about 4,000 angstroms or less."

"Wave emissions increasing in pitch." Johan Belcher looked up at Justine. "In about two hours it'll reach a frequency too high for us to hear, but it might wreak some havoc with our communications."

"Noted." Justine played the camera over the artifact, noting that it had already lightened in color. "Is there any kind of spectral a.n.a.lysis possible? Can we tell what this thing is made of?"