Stranger Suns Read online

  She hovered over him, and seemed to float back as he sat up on one elbow. Malachi was drinking coffee at the table. His white cup resembled a huge tooth.

  “What time is it?”

  “You've slept five hours,” Malachi said.

  Juan shivered, wishing for sunny beaches and simple pleasures, then wondered what lay under the ice, and suddenly imagined a city locked in the cold, its cellars sunk deeply into the bedrock of the continent.

  Lena was looking at him with concern. “Antarctic dryness affects some people strangely. You just about collapsed. How do you feel now?”

  He sat up on the edge of the bunk and slipped on his boots. “What did you say before?” he asked as he got up and staggered to the table.

  “They've found an opening,” Malachi said as Juan sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  He gulped down the coffee and stood up. “Let's go.”

  * * *

  Blue light streamed from the excavation, as if a strange sun were rising from the ice. A frigid breeze cut through the starry night as Juan followed Lena and Malachi down into the glowing pit. They found Rassmussen staring into a circular opening set at a shallow angle in a rising black surface.

  Juan came up at his left and peered into the blue glare. His pulse quickened; the curved surface suggested a giant dome below the ice.

  Rassmussen said, “The diggers say that the opening simply appeared. It was gone when I got here, then showed itself. If these five square meters of exposed curvature hold true, it's maybe two or three kilometers across, with this entrance somewhere near the top.”

  “So this is where the tachyons are coming from!” Lena exclaimed.

  “It may well be,” Rassmussen said, “that they are tachyons.”

  Juan threw back his hood and stepped up close. “There's a floor,” he said, peering into the chamber.

  “Wait!” Mal shouted as Juan entered an egg-shaped chamber filled with blue light. There seemed to be no other exit. Mal came in next to him.

  Juan grabbed his friend's arm, pulled him deeper into the chamber and shouted, “Stand well back. I want to try something!”

  “What are you doing?” Malachi demanded.

  “I think I know!” Juan shouted, turning in time to see the opening glow red and disappear.

  “We're trapped,” Malachi said.

  “No, wait.”

  Juan moved forward. The glowing red circle appeared again. “It's a lock!” Lena shouted from outside.

  “Step back again!” Juan called out, retreating. “And stay back. I want to see if it's triggered from both sides.”

  Again, the opening glowed red and disappeared.

  “I hope you're right,” Malachi said.

  They came forward. The circle glowed open and they emerged into the cold.

  “But where does the lock lead?” Lena asked excitedly.

  “A buried city?” Malachi said.

  “So there was an advanced civilization in Antarctica,” Lena added.

  Juan said, “Let's look around before Titus drops a security lid. Are you all game?”

  “Without a doubt,” Malachi replied.

  “This lock,” Rassmussen said as Juan led the way back inside, “is impossible!”

  From the middle of the small chamber, they turned and watched the exit glow red and blend seamlessly into the blue inner surface. “There must be an inner door,” Juan said eagerly, moving toward the other end.

  An orange glow appeared before him. “You've triggered it,” Malachi said. Juan felt a gentle breeze as he went through the opening.

  Overhead, yellow-orange squares of light curved away to the right, following the bend of a long passageway. The black floor reflected the lights as a dull streak.

  “It spirals downward,” Malachi said.

  Juan led the way, examining the markings on the walls. Runs of concentric circles alternated with squares and triangles, joined by wavelets. For a moment he heard a strange whisper in his ears, but it stopped as he listened to it. He turned and looked back toward the lock. The others gazed back with him.

  “It had better open when we leave,” Lena said. “Maybe we should go back now.”

  “Let's look ahead a ways,” Juan said, moving forward. Suddenly he was aware that all the surfaces of the passage seemed new, with no sign of wear. Not one light was out.

  “A culture so advanced,” Lena said, “existing long before us. Could they still be here?”

  The passage continued to the right, its black walls displaying the same endless frieze of markings and oval, doorlike depressions.

  Rassmussen said, “It's demoralizing. The lock back there implies a fantastically sophisticated power-handling capacity.”

  They entered a large oval area, with a large circular opening in the black floor. The spiral passage continued to descend on the far side. Juan approached and looked down.

  The shaft was lit by orange-yellow light, with no sign of bottom. Warm, oxygen-rich air pumped up from below. He looked up and saw that the shaft did not continue through the ceiling, then took a coin from his pocket and dropped it in. It fell slowly, as if held by a force.

  Rassmussen said, “It keeps a flat angle.”

  “An elevator?” Malachi asked, standing on the edge as he peered down.

  “Heeeey!” a voice cried behind them. Juan started. The sound echoed through the passage. He turned to look back.

  “Help!” Malachi shouted suddenly.

  Juan spun around as his friend fell into the well. “Jesus,” Lena said, dropping to her knees. She reached out with both hands, but Malachi was already too far down.

  “Bloody stupid!” Malachi shouted, waving his arms. His figure dwindled.

  “Mal!” Juan called, kneeling next to Lena.

  “It's okay,” Malachi answered faintly.

  “I can't see him,” Lena said.

  Juan glanced up at Rassmussen. The older man seemed confused. “It wasn't a normal fall,” he said, stepping back from the opening.

  “We've got to do something,” Lena said as she and Juan got up.

  “Heeeeey!” the cry echoed again behind them.

  “Over here!” Lena called back.

  Juan heard footsteps. Two silhouettes came around the curve and stopped; a third dark shape joined them.

  “Who are you?” Juan shouted.

  The shadows came forward and became human figures. Juan recognized Florman, the tall, lanky excavation engineer, and Summet's stocky frame. The third man was a stranger.

  “Obrion, what's going on here?” the director demanded.

  “You know as much as we do. Who's this?”

  “Inspector Ivan Dovzhenko, this is Dr. Juan Obrion. You've met the others, I believe.”

  Juan gave the Russian a quick nod. “We've just lost Mal, Titus. You startled us and he fell into this opening.”

  As Summet looked down the well, Juan glanced at Dovzhenko. Youngish with blond hair and gray-blue eyes, he seemed too stocky for his height. The usual second-rate Soviet scientist doubling as an ERS national observer. The best knew enough not to waste their time.

  “You shouldn't have come in here,” Summet said.

  Juan said, “Mal went down slowly. He's somewhere below.”

  “Rassmussen, what do you think?” Summet demanded.

  “I agree.”

  “And you, Dr. Dravic?”

  “We all saw the same thing,” she said.

  Summet looked down into the well again and said, “I should order you all out of here right now.”

  Dovzhenko seemed nervous and wary. “Dr. Obrion, I must protest this—”

  “We've got to find him,” Juan said. “Down this passage.”

  Summet glanced at Dovzhenko, then nodded. “Wait here. I'll send down packs for you. You can't go bare-handed.”

  “Please hurry,” Lena said.

  Summet looked back up the passageway. “What in hell is this place?” He turned to Juan. “Is this where your tachyon
beam is coming from?”

  “It's still on?” Juan asked.

  Summet nodded, then motioned for Florman and Dovzhenko to follow him out. “Stay put!” he shouted back as he hurried away.

  3. THE SEEKERS

  Summet and Dovzhenko came back with six small packs, wearing their own, and carrying four others. “We'll leave one here,” Summet said, dropping two at Juan's feet.

  “You're both coming with us?” Juan asked, noticing the exasperated look on Dovzhenko's face as he put down the two he had carried in.

  Summet nodded. “There's an automatic in each pack. Keep it handy. We don't know what's in here.”

  Juan disliked weapons, but he strapped it on. Lena looked at hers as if it were a jawbone club, then slipped it into her thigh pocket. Rassmussen took his out, checked the safety, and put it back.

  Summet gestured to Juan as Florman's men left. “You lead.”

  Juan went around the well and started down the next turn in the descending spiral. After a few moments he again heard the strange whispers, and glanced back. Lena's eyes darted nervously. Magnus frowned. Summet and Dovzhenko suddenly stopped.

  “Do you hear that?” Summet asked.

  They all listened. A whine rose up from the silence.

  “I hear it,” Dovzhenko said.

  Juan imagined a snakelike vehicle slipping up through the corkscrew passage. “Clear the way!” he shouted, moving to his right. As he turned and pressed back against the wall, it yielded behind him. He stumbled back—

  —into a brightly lit room.

  The harsh white light blinded him as he fell back on his pack. He rolled over and squinted as he pushed against the floor with his gloved hands, then slowly got to his knees.

  Around him stood objects that looked like cabinets, and benchlike structures of various sizes. Suddenly the ceiling glowed red. He began to sweat in his parka. Then the ceiling faded back to white and cool air rushed in around him.

  He took a deep breath and stepped toward the wall, looking for the entrance. A bright red oval appeared, and the wall seemed to lose its solidity. He held out his arms, marched into the glow—

  —and stepped through into the winding passage.

  “Juan!” Lena shouted with relief.

  “I'm okay,” he said as they gathered around him and watched the portal fade away. He stepped toward the oval indentation. Faithfully, it glowed again, a graceful, fluid entranceway that engineers and architects might dream about; but if the past had accomplished all this, he thought, then the present was a time of decline.

  “No further,” Summet announced. “We'll get specialized teams in here. What happened in there?”

  “I'm not sure, but I may have just been given a bath.”

  “Why do you think that?” Summet asked.

  “It got very hot,” Juan said, “then cool. Reminded me of infrared heaters in bathrooms.” He looked at the oval indentations on the far side of the passageway. “I think there are chambers all up and down this spiral, and I'll bet each one is different.”

  “What is this place meant to be?” Summet asked.

  Dovzhenko came up to him. “I must remind you,” he said softly, “that this is now a UN-ERS find, fully protected by treaty. Until we can guarantee equal access for all signatories, it must be off limits to all further exploration.”

  “You're right,” Summet said after a moment, “but emergency provisions apply right now. We'll leave as soon as we find Malachi Moede.”

  “We've got to go on now,” Lena insisted before Dovzhenko could protest. “He may need help.”

  “He's only one man,” Dovzhenko said.

  “What's wrong with you?” Juan demanded.

  “Calm down,” Summet said.

  “We're wasting time, and he wants to waste more with formalities.”

  “Dr. Obrion,” Dovzhenko said, “I sympathize with your concern for your colleague, but as a scientific observer for a signatory to the UN-ERS treaty, I must enforce parity in the exploration of this find.”

  “What!” Juan asked angrily. “You're out of your mind.”

  Lena's face flushed with anger. “If Malachi is injured or dies,” she said, “we will hold you responsible.”

  “Of course,” Dovzhenko answered. “I understand your feelings completely.”

  “You don't,” she said. “We'll settle with you personally.”

  “Ivan, come with me,” Summet said. “You three—find him fast and bring him out. If you don't in a reasonable time, come out. For the record, you should not have come in here in the first place. Understand?”

  Juan nodded.

  “You're endangering yourselves and other scientific workers,” Dovzhenko insisted.

  Summet took him by the arm and led him up the passageway. “They'll be right out, Ivan,” he said softly, then looked back at Juan and shouted, “Hurry!”

  * * *

  “Help!” Malachi cried out as he fell.

  Lena was on her knees, reaching out to him.

  “Bloody stupid!” he called back, then saw that he was sinking much too slowly for it to be dangerous.

  “Mal!” Juan cried.

  “It's okay!” he shouted.

  His fall quickened. The opening grew small overhead and disappeared. Air pressure popped his ears. The bottom was rushing up to crack his head and snap his spine. He screamed and looked down. There was no bottom.

  His grandmother in Kenya had once told him a story about a boy who fell into a deep well and found an ocean under the earth. There he became a cabin boy on a pirate vessel and grew up to command a craft of his own, visiting all the ports of the strange, starless ocean. He grew old in this life, until a giant dropped a bucket into the well and fished him up, ship and all. . .

  His fall slowed again. He caught his breath and looked around at the brightly lit shaft, examining the niches and odd markings as he drifted down.

  Peering down, he saw that the shaft had narrowed, but there was still enough space for him to pass through the center of a catwalk. He spread his legs wide and landed gently. He stood still for a moment, glanced up into a bright haze, then looked around and noticed three oval niches spaced evenly around the shaft.

  He stepped toward one. It glowed—

  —and he slipped through into a large drum-shaped chamber filled with soft yellow light. The amber floor sloped into a flat circle at the center.

  He went down the incline. It all seemed oddly familiar, as if his life had been lived to bring him here.

  * * *

  Juan picked up the extra pack and led the way around the well. Malachi could be anywhere inside this structure. Now that Antarctica's six months of night had begun, it would be harder to bring in supplies by air, impossible if the weather turned bad. They might have to leave Mal behind if Summet was forced to seal off the find while the UN-ERS debated what to do next.

  As they went deeper into the spiral, Juan was startled by the possibility that the builders of such an advanced structure had perished. Rassmussen was right about the lock and chamber portals; such fluid control of matter and energy implied even greater capabilities. Materials synthesis alone would have insured survival.

  “Call out,” Lena said as she came up beside him. “He might hear us.”

  “Malachi!” Juan shouted, suddenly imagining his friend among the builders, talking with them, exchanging ideas, laughing at the simplicity of solutions to age-old problems. Perhaps there was only a small population left, living for noble purposes, free of material want.

  “I'm here!” Malachi's voice answered, startling them.

  They hurried forward. “Are you hurt?” Juan called out.

  “No!” The Kenyan strolled around the bend; they rushed to him.

  “What happened?” Juan asked.

  “I'll show you.”

  Juan stared at his friend, relieved.

  “I'm quite all right.”

  Juan grinned and gave him the spare pack. Rassmussen helped him to slip it on.
“How far down did you go?” he asked.

  “I estimate walking back two kilometers. Come, I'll show you.”

  “Titus wants us out of here,” Juan said. “The lid's about to come down.”

  Malachi grimaced. “To blazes with him. This won't take long.”

  * * *

  Malachi paused at the edge of the flat circle in the center of the drum-shaped chamber. “Watch,” he said, “when I step into the center.”

  The yellow light faded into darkness. Three-dimensional starfields appeared around them. Juan felt vertigo, but oriented himself by the silhouettes of his companions blotting out the stars.

  “They're so bright and clear,” Lena said.

  Malachi's arm reached out and pointed. “Notice the small red marks by yellow-orange suns.”

  “So they were fond of building planetariums,” Rassmussen replied.

  “Yes,” Malachi said, “but these shots were not taken from Earth. You won't recognize any of these starfields. Follow me.”

  Juan watched his dark shape leave the circle and move up the incline. Lena and Rassmussen followed. As Juan caught up, the warm yellow glow again filled the chamber.

  Malachi passed through the dissolving portal. Lena and Rassmussen slipped through. Juan hurried after them and emerged in the spiral passage.

  Malachi was on the other side, triggering another entrance. Juan waited for Lena and Rassmussen to go through, then followed them into another white-lit room.

  As his eyes adjusted, he saw that this chamber was bare, except for a shadowy heap in the center. They approached, and it became a pile of skeletons. “Not human,” Malachi said. “Double thumbs, large ribcages, four toes. From the numbers here, it seems unlikely these were freaks.”

  Lena picked up a skull. “It's half again as large as ours, and look at the size of these eye sockets.”

  “I wonder how they died. And why were they piled here?” Rassmussen asked.

  Juan felt the floor tremble.

  “What was that?” Lena asked.

  Malachi said, “The ice may be pushing part of this structure around.”

  Another tremor followed the first, then subsided.

  “Maybe these were the builders of this place,” Lena said. “Too bad. They might have taught us a lot.”