The Unearthing (42 page)

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Authors: Steve Karmazenuk,Christine Williston

BOOK: The Unearthing
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“Do you know where I could score?”

Crises end only when growth resumes. Whether it is progress in the same direction as before the crisis or in an entirely new direction is irrelevant. What is vital is that the crisis is put behind. The world moves on. Crisis only becomes disaster when no growth occurs.

 

FIFTEEN

PROGRESS

 

The jump plane launched itself away from the International Airport in Cairo, Egypt. The passengers were pressed tightly into their seats by the G-force acceleration as the plane climbed for orbit. Doctor Matthew N’banga closed his eyes until he felt the fluttering, falling sensation that meant the plane had achieved orbit and zero gravity. He slipped on his console headset as the plane began its trek east, towards Los Angeles. From there, N’banga would be taking another plane further east-southeast to New Mexico and the World Ship Preserve. On the eyepiece viewscreen of his console was a representation of the Ship’s periodic table of elements; two hundred and twenty-seven in all. N’banga was one of the world’s top theoretical physicists; he had worked a number of years ago with the Nairobi Seven; an international group of physicists, chemists and astrophysicists who had successfully disproved the Unified Field Theory; a several-decades-old fallacy that had hobbled physics for far too long. N’banga was joining the Ship Survey Expedition at the World Ship Summit’s request. With the Special Investigative Subcommittee’s recommendation to continue the SSE endorsed by the World Ship Summit finally delivered some eleven weeks after the Night of Blood, work was finally about to resume.

 

N’banga accepted a sip bag of coffee from the stewardess and studied the two hundred and twenty-seven elemental symbols before him. He smiled, deep wrinkles creasing his wide, square face. N’banga had been considered a radical in the physics world because of some of his theories. Among them, his pet theory which had landed him the job with the SSE: It was an established fact that some higher elements on the periodic table could only be created in a laboratory. Even then they were so unstable that they could only exist for a fraction of a second. Many scientists believed these elements simply too unstable to exist naturally and yet there was evidence that they were present in the universe. N’banga’s theory stated that the reason these elements were so unstable was that their atomic matrices were only capable of existing within the bounds of higher dimensional space. Those elements could no more exist within the bounds of three-dimensional space than a Human being could exist exclusively within the limited bounds of one-dimensional space. N’banga’s equations, while sound, were discounted by much of the scientific community. They vigorously defended the notion that all matter existed throughout all dimensions, though Humans were only capable of perceiving three or four. N’banga promptly discounted this by using careful application of Everett’s Multiverse Theory, Freidman’s Quantum Reality Theory, Gavel’s Multidimensional Time Law and Andrews’ Probability Equations. In fact, N’banga was an old friend of Professor Michael Andrews and was looking forward to seeing him again almost as anxiously as he was anticipating encountering the Ship for the first time.

♦♦♦

Colonel Bloom jogged her way along the track extending over the Ship, listening as her footfalls fused into the Shipsong’s symphony. The Ship was aglow in the pre-dawn sky, an alien cityscape awash in blues and golds. Bloom had been back at Fort Arapaho for a week, having spent the last three on sympathetic leave at her daughter’s side. Laura had undergone lung replacement surgery and returned home again. Bloom was in high spirits; Laura was expected to make a full recovery and when Bloom had returned to her duties at Fort Arapaho word had come down that the SSE was to resume work; as of today. They were expecting the arrival of one Doctor Matthew N’banga, who once settled, would be working with Doctors Kodo and Cole on the Ship’s scientific readouts and with Doctors Andrews and Aiziz in the Ship’s language lab. Their goal at this point was still to enter into direct communication with the Ship. Shipsong rang out around Bloom as she completed her run; s
he was going back to the Ship!
It was, besides Laura’s recovery, the best news she had heard since the United Trinity Observants had made their desperate, final attack.

♦♦♦

The plane from Los Angeles touched down and powered off. Soon a door in its side opened and a boarding ramp extended. Bloom stood by the ramp with Major Benedict and Professor Andrews. After some moments a tall, thin and older black man stepped from the plane. Andrews moved forward to greet him. When Doctor N’banga saw Andrews approaching, he rushed down the ramp to greet his old friend with a warm hug.

 

“Michael!” N’banga exclaimed, “It’s been far too long!”

 

“How are you Matthew?” Andrews asked, “I haven’t seen you since your guest lecturing days at Cambridge!”

 

“And the last I’d heard, old friend, you held the Big Chair over there.” Andrews’ smile seemed suddenly very strained.

 

“Yes,” he said. “That…didn’t exactly work out.” He turned around, gesturing to Colonel Bloom and Major Benedict, both of whom were left wondering just how many universities Andrews had been expelled from.

 

“Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Colonel Margaret Bloom, base commander at Fort Arapaho and head of the Ship Survey Expedition.”

 

“Pleased to meet you, Doctor N’banga,” Bloom said, shaking his hand.

 

“And this is Major Jack Benedict,” Andrews said, “Head of security for both the base and the SSE.” Benedict shook N’banga’s hand.

 

“Welcome to Fort Arapaho,” Benedict said.

 

“Doctor N’banga, I’m sure, given the time difference, that you’re anxious to get settled,” Bloom said, “Your bags are being taken to your quarters. If you like I can take you over there right away.”

 

“That won’t be necessary, Colonel,” N’banga said, “I’ve actually been taking flight-lag medication and I’m quite anxious to see the Ship.”

 

Bloom smiled. “A feeling I know all too well,” She said, “Our daily briefing is in one hour. That’ll give you time to get settled. I’ll see you, then.”

 

Andrews took N’banga from the airfield. “Come along, Matthew,” He said, “I’ll take you on to the commissary and some food and then we’ll go to the main research lab. Doctors Aiziz, Cole and Kodo are already at work.”

 

“I can’t wait to get in,” N’banga answered.

♦♦♦

“What is the latest report from the Ship, Mister Chairman?” The British Defence Minister asked. “With the Ship Survey Expedition about to resume, has there been any sign of Colonel Jude or Gabriel Ashe?”

It was her go as head of the Committee meeting and it was being held on London time. None of her American counterparts had had the benefit of a night’s sleep. They all suspected and would have been right to assume she’d scheduled for eight hundred hours, London time, deliberately.

 

“No,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said in reply to her question, “Jude’s men made a final sortie to the Ship last night. They found no trace of either of them.” The Minister re-focused his attention on the matter at hand and stifled a yawn. It seemed that since he’d allowed the Prime Minister to appoint him Defence Minister he’d not had a proper night’s sleep. Certainly not since the attacks.

 

“Was that prudent?” the British Minister asked the Chairman.

 

“Every precaution was made to minimize risk of exposure,” The Chairman said, “Microwave suppression fields to cut out existing surveillance systems…digital simulations of the environment channelled simultaneously into surveillance banks…stealth approach…the usual gamut.”

 

“And what did they find?” the British Minister asked.

“Nothing,” The Chairman replied, “Not a damn thing. It looks as though Ashe and Jude somehow made their way deeper into the Ship.”

 

“Then there’s still the risk of a discovery when and if the SSE find a way into the Ship?” the Natural Resources Minister asked, from his seat next to the Minister.

 

“At this juncture I suspect that if they find anything, it’ll be two dead bodies,” The Chairman said, “But without foreknowledge of what the rest of the layout of the Ship looks like, we have no way of knowing. Jude and Ashe could have gotten anywhere within the inner hull or the airframe.”

 

“Are they now presumed dead, then?” MI-6 asked, “And if so, what do we do when and if their bodies
are
discovered? We don’t have any containment of the situation.”

 

“With Major Benedict in place,” the Chairman said, “And Colonel Bloom under General Harold’s thumb we can anticipate containment.”

 

“Would either of them be capable of a sanitization?” the British Minister asked. The word alarmed the Minister when he heard it spoken. More alarming still was the casualness with which the British Minister asked the question.
Sanitization
only had one meaning in this context.

 

“If necessary I believe Major Benedict might,” The Chairman said, cautiously, “However, Colonel Bloom would not and would most certainly fight such an order if she heard wind of it.”

 

“You
believe
Major Benedict
might
,” MI-6 repeated, “Not exactly what I’d call a glowing recommendation.”

 

“Has the Committee always been a league of assassins?” the Minister interjected, “First the Chairman orders a hit on Gabriel Ashe, now you’re talking about a death warrant on whoever discovers the corpse? This isn’t what the Committee is here to do!”

 

“There is precedent, Minister,” his British counterpart explained, “Antecedent of the Ashe slaying: the Ukraine, two years ago, for example. A few months prior a discovery in Utah necessitated sanitizing everyone at a ranch. When we can, we recruit. When we cannot...”

 

“I won’t be party to that mass killing,” The Minister said, “What happened in the Ukraine was
barely
justifiable under the Charter of Suppressing Evidence of Extraterrestrial Life. That entire mandate’s been obliterated with the unearthing of the Ship. Now you’re talking about killing people for discovering the bodies of a lunatic and a government killer!”

 

“The Minister raises an excellent point,” The Curator of the Smithsonian Institute added, “Surely an appropriate cover can be found to explain the bodies should they be discovered? They’ll be badly decomposed to be sure; enough so that no cursory identification of Gabriel Ashe will be possible. The bodies can always disappear after being discovered.”

 

“It isn’t likely that any explanation we come up with will be wholly believed.” The Chairman replied.

 

“That’s often the case with the real truth as well,” The Minister countered, “I move that we prepare a contingency strategy for the discovery of the corpses of Gabriel Ashe and Colonel Jude that does
not
involve terminal sanitization.”

 

“Seconded,” The Curator concurred.

 

“And what if they’re discovered alive?” MI-6 asked.

 

“After ten weeks it isn’t likely they’ll be discovered at all,” The Minister said, “If any one of them comes out alive I think we can agree it’s going to be Colonel Jude. And from what I know about him he’ll sanitize witnesses, himself.”

 

“There is a motion before the Committee,” the British Minister said, “All in favour?” It was with great reluctance that a small majority of hands were raised. A bare majority for the motion, but since joining the Committee it was only the second motion the Minister had seen carry without unanimity; the only vote he had ever seen the Chairman and MI-6 lose and the only time he had dared vote against either.

♦♦♦

Bloom couldn’t help the spring in her step as she strode into the briefing room. In less than two hours she would be going back into the Ship.

 

“Good morning,” she said, sitting down at the conference table, “I trust most of you have had the chance to meet Doctor N’banga, the newest member of the SSE.” N’banga nodded and smiled.

 

Bloom pulled out the screen for her console and continued. “So, let’s get right into it,” she said, “I’m as anxious as anyone else to get back to the Ship. First off: as per new directives from the World Ship Summit, Major Benedict and a team of security officers will be accompanying us to and into the Ship; they’ll be present with the teams at all times. Doctor Cole, you’ll have two guards posted at the lift inside the First Chamber, inside your infirmary. Sonia, two more will be stationed just outside the Language Lab. The Major’s asked me to relay all this as he is coordinating last-minute efforts to ensure our safe passage to the Pyramid.” Bloom referred to her console again.

 

“I’m sorry,” Andrews said, clearing his throat, “I understand what happened. But the Ship Survey Expedition is becoming dangerously militarized. I’m not—”

 

“The matter’s not open for discussion, Michael!”

 

“I’m not comfortable with the armed presence!” Andrews yelled, “I’d at least like to go on record saying as much. Next you’ll be issuing sidearms to the civilians on the Expedition!”

 

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Bloom said, “Major Benedict is not involved with the expedition; he is involved with security. The guards will not interfere with you; they are there for your benefit, and if you fucking interrupt me again, Andrews, I will
personally
ensure you spend the rest of the day in the infirmary.”

 

“Colonel, if I may,” Andrews persisted.

“No, you may not. Sonia, how are things coming on the language front?”

 

“We’ve been working with linguists, mathematicians and cryptographers from around the world over the Grid,” Aiziz said, uncertainly, “We have been able to determine that Shiplanguage is largely contextual; each runic symbol can have any number of meanings depending on its position in a sentence, the runes adjacent to it and finally, the total number of runes in a sentence.” She referred to her console and continued: “We’ve also discovered basic meanings for over a hundred runes. We now believe that we have a sufficient basic written vocabulary to begin learning Shiplanguage in earnest. From here we should be able to quickly establish a direct dialogue with the Ship.”

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