The Unearthing (11 page)

“Gentlemen,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the Shipsong, “From this point forward our world has been forever changed.” Santino nodded gravely. James turned around, taking a moment to rub his eyes and shake his head once in nervous reaction. Like trying to shake the last remnants of a flash of dream or déjà vu from his mind. It was then that he noticed someone watching a Grid broadcast on a console with a large roll-out screen. The console’s owner had linked to INN and the report onscreen was about the Ship. James smiled. News as it happened.

“Good morning and welcome to the Interactive News Network. As of twelve-oh-seven this morning, life as we have known it is over. In the New Mexico desert at this hour, near the community of Laguna an object, almost certainly a ship, with an approximate measurement of thirty-two kilometres unearthed itself. The United States Armed Forces responded almost immediately, in an effort to secure the Ship and to try and keep a safe distance between it and the thousands of people that have already shown up at the Site. Video images obtained by INN from sources aboard the Concord 3 space station and at the archaeological dig site that originally discovered the Ship show the unbelievable sight of the unearthing...”

The world that Mankind had always known had come to an end. The Ship had put to death all that they thought they knew of Life. A new era had begun: an era of hope and of fear and of order and of chaos, an era of incredible dreams and unimaginable nightmares.

FIVE

REACTIONS

LINX TO: Laura Echohawk

FROM: Mark Echohawk

SUBJECT: What else? The Ship!

Dear Laura,

Sorry I haven’t had the chance to linx you, recently. As you can imagine with everything that’s been going on, I haven’t had enough time to myself to get much of anything done. To make up for it here is one nice, long linx.

I got all your messages and I read and watched each one. I even got a couple of quick linxes from your mom, but she’s been mighty quiet since everything happened. Unfortunately with what’s been going on, I haven’t had much chance to reply.

You asked what the real story was; what’s really gone on since the Ship unearthed itself. Well things are pretty much as reported on INN but I’ll recap for you as I see things: As the deep scan compiled and we began to realize what we’d discovered, the Army came in and took control of the site. After the Ship was unearthed they stuck around to set up an armed camp, virtually overnight. Over a thousand people have gone missing since the Ship was unearthed; either because they were lost during the unearthing or because they wandered off. Whatever the case, the Army used that as an excuse to cordon off the site. I don’t think so many hundreds of kilometres of perimeter fencing have ever been put up so fast. The World Council responded to the American action quickly enough and that’s when things got hairy.

Even before War Three, America’s been very protective of its sovereignty in the global community. So when the World Council declared that the United States didn’t have exclusive rights to the Ship despite it being found on American soil (Never mind that it was in fact found on the territory of the South-western Protectorate and that the Protectorates are considered to be under the trusteeship of the World Council).

America still has military clout and some political influence among the nations of the World Council. However it lacks the economic power it had up until the war and certainly can’t strong-arm the World Council the way it had the old United Nations. But neither America nor the World Council can afford to go to war with one another. Therefore in the end things weren’t as tense as they seemed; the threatened embargo against the US was bluster and bluff, as were the American posturing, threats and anti-World Council rhetoric we’d seen the last couple of weeks before the ‘States acquiesced. It all seemed to be a crisis but no forces were deployed no troops put on standby alert. The World Council had to give the States a way to back down and still save face. Therefore, putting the US military in charge of security at the Ship and putting mainly Americans on the World Ship Summit is not so much an appeasement as it is a symbolic gesture. The people really in charge of the Ship right now are the World Council Special Oversight Commission.

One question that keeps popping up is how we know that the object is indeed a ship. Following the initial scans done by Concord 3, a whole barrage of tests and scans had been done, using equipment that in many cases is still experimental. We’ve successfully compiled a full image of the Ship, both upper and lower halves. It’s one complete, sealed hull. The upper surface is the dome we’re all familiar with. The lower surface is perfectly rounded, but covered with hundreds of overlapping blister-like structures. Although we haven’t been able to determine the source of propulsion for the Ship, we are certain that the Ship landed and then burrowed into the surface of the earth, compacting and displacing the ground, stone and everything between as it came to rest. It could only have done so if it lowered itself very gradually into the ground. Our best guess is that most of the Ship was above the surface of the Earth until the Death Star asteroid slammed into the Gulf of Mexico some sixty-five million years ago.

By the time you read this linx I will be about a day away from announcing that I have accepted the position as head of the Ship Survey Expedition that the World Council intends on sending to the Ship. I’m already whittling away at the short list of people I want on the SSE. I’m thrilled! Who wouldn’t be? I’ll be one of the first people in world history to set foot inside an alien vessel. I haven’t slept much these last few nights, just because I’m so excited at the prospect. I promise I will still be at your place for thanksgiving. I’m anxious to see you and to see your mother again. Nothing, not even the Ship, will keep me away from your table. What you do to a turkey words cannot do justice.

In any event, I have to cut this linx short and go to bed. It’s been another long day of inquisition here in Geneva testifying before the World Ship Summit and the Oversight Commission. I wish to God they’d have let us testify over the Grid from Laguna. My time would be better served there than here. Oh, well. Tomorrow I’ll be announced as the head of the Ship Survey Expedition and I’ll be on the next jump plane home after the press briefings. Home for the next little while will be Laguna, New Mexico.

All my love.

♦♦♦

Pope Simon-Peter, the Vicar of Christ, Servant of Servants and Earthly head of the Catholic Church sat in his private garden eating breakfast. It was an hour after dawn and the weather was cool. His handlers wanted him to eat indoors but there were still blooms on the many plants he tended here in his private time. Here was his sanctuary. The garden, hidden within the walls of the Vatican and accessible only through the Pontiff’s private apartments had long been a refuge of the Popes and the variety of flora and landscaping in the enclosed half-acre courtyard reflected the different men who had come to occupy the loneliest position within the Clergy. He, himself enjoyed coming here and feeding the squirrels; one of them did tricks for the peanuts he brought with him.

Pope Simon Peter, born Vincent St-Amand seventy-two years before in a small village in Haiti, had the distinction of being the second Black pope and only the fourth Pontiff in the Church’s history to call for a Vatican Council. He was the first to open the Council proceedings to the religions of the world; a decision that had earned him criticism and condemnation from more than one Council of Bishops and had doubled the number of death threats he received in any given day for the last three weeks.

He remembered the announcement well. He’d made it from the balcony of St Peter’s Basilica during Mass two days after the Unearthing. The crowd that had gathered that morning had exceeded the capacity of the Square to hold them. Streets had been blocked off and loudspeakers set up so the assembled masses could hear him. He stood on the balcony that morning, making his first public appearance since the Unearthing as a cool rain came down over Rome. Pope Simon Peter spoke into the microphone discreetly hidden in the fabric of his vestments.

“My brothers and sisters in Christ, our world has been changed forever by the events in the South-western Protectorate,” He began.

This had been his first official comment on the Ship and because of this an immediate hush fell over the thousands of people below. Pope Simon Peter licked his lips and continued: “There is a new universal truth: We are not the only intelligent life that has graced God’s Creation. This news is an awesome revelation. For though it has answered a very old question the Ship has posed others to us now. Questions that are frightening and almost terrible: if we are not unique in the universe, then what is our place in God’s plan? Why was the Ship discovered now? What does it mean for our future as a race? And most importantly, what divine message is hidden within the Ship? For I believe that this Ship is indeed part of God’s plan for us. I believe that the Lord intends us to learn something, to come to some revelation and that this Ship is the means to that end. But I also believe that this message is intended for all people, for all of God’s children. And it is for this reason that the Fourth Vatican Council must be open not only to the leaders of the Holy Catholic Church but to the leaders of all of the world’s religions. I have already spoken with Israel’s Rabbinical Council and with the Imams of the Council of Islam and they have confirmed their willingness not only to attend this Council but to assist in organizing it.” His last few words had nearly been drowned out by the uproar from the assembled masses. Many of the Faithful were old enough to remember the terror attacks on the Vatican that had claimed the life of one of Simon Peter’s predecessors and utterly destroyed the Sistine Chapel. Many more were those who remembered only that the terrorists had been radical Muslims. Most of these souls so sadly unforgiving, had forgotten the years of the Great Reconciliation of Faith that Pope Gregory XVII, who had overseen the reconstruction of the Vatican, had organized between Christians Jews and Muslims.

“We are
all
God’s children!” He called out loudly by way of admonition, “And as such the Ship belongs to us all! Therefore only if we join together can we hope to understand the mystery of the Ship. Only if we come together as one can we hope to find God’s truth to us all. To try and do so separately would damn us all to stumble through the darkness, blind and ignorant forever.”

And the deed was done. The Fourth Vatican Council had been called and today Pope Simon-Peter would oversee the awesome task of finalizing the list of delegates to be invited to the conference. The faiths of many Catholics had been shaken in some cases to the very foundations. Conversely the latest statistics from the Interactive News Network showed that overall attendance at religious gatherings was up over thirty percent; broken down religion by religion the Catholic Church was fourth overall in increased attendance behind Islam, the collective banner of the Pagan religions and of all things, Scientology.

♦♦♦

Lieutenant Colonel Margaret Bloom sat in the Base Commander’s outer office at Houston Air Force Base. She had spent most of the last several days in the stockades aboard Concord 3 and back dirtside. After the Ship was unearthed they’d dropped her into the deepest hole they could find while the world turned its attention to the Ship. Now that the dust was finally settling they’d pulled her out. Bloom expected it wouldn’t be much longer before she saw the inside of another prison cell. She’d resigned herself to spending time behind bars the moment she made the decision to send the survey revealing the Ship to INN. Bloom knew the drill: She’d be called into the Base Commander’s office, he’d chew her a new asshole and then she’d be brought up on formal charges and escorted back to the barracks by the MPs. There’d be a meeting with a JAG officer and then she’d sit back and wait for the court martial. Bloom wasn’t sure whether or not she’d be exonerated. She wasn’t sure she’d still have a military career when this was over with, either. The loss of flight privileges would be the most heart wrenching, but it was a small price to pay for what she’d accomplished. Who the hell knew? She might still be able to get a job with the World Space Agency. The door to the Base Commander’s office opened. Colonel Hays stuck his head out and looked at her.

“We’ll see you now Bloom,” He said, sternly.

“
We
?” she repeated as Hays closed the door. Bloom rose and stepped into the inner office and found herself looking right at General Harrod.

“Lieutenant-Colonel, after your...behaviour…aboard the Concord Station, we cannot allow you to represent the United States on an international venture, again,” Hays said, “You violated direct orders from the head of the DIA, used World Space Agency property in an illegal fashion for unlawful ends, incited others to mutiny and put into danger the lives of officers in the field. On top of that you also violated several civilian statutes regarding private domain satellite channels and endangered some very valuable corporate property.” Bloom heard Hays, but wasn’t listening. Her eyes remained locked on Harrod. He had fled Concord 3 within half an hour of the first INN broadcast about the Ship. Here he was, back again. She knew she’d nuked her career when she’d sent the link to INN. What she didn’t realize was just how personally Harrod was taking this one. He wouldn’t be here unless he wanted to make sure she was
completely
fucked. Best then to cut to the chase.

“Am I under arrest, Sir?” Her eyes never left Harrod’s. Hays activated the console on his desk and pulled up a file.

“No, Lieutenant-Colonel,” he said, “I’m afraid you don’t get off that lucky.” Bloom didn’t allow herself to react to Hays’ statement. She simply continued to stare coldly, hatefully into General Harrod’s eyes. The man showed no emotion, revealed no expression. He exuded power and a cold, calculating arrogance. He stared at her with a predatory dispassion. She was no threat to him and he would never allow her to become a threat.