James P Hogan. Inherit The Stars. Giant Series #1

computations of field-vector resultants collected from the

satellites had been right; there certainly had been something big

down here-and it hadn’t been just ore deposits.

“Ma-an,” breathed Stanislow, after staring for a long time. “So

that’s it, huh?”

“That is big!” Peters added with a whistle. The aides echoed the

sentiments dutifully.

Stanislow turned to Mills. “Ready for the big moment, then,

Captain?”

“Yes, sir,” Mills confirmed. He indicated a point about two hundred

feet away where a group of figures was gathered close to the wall

of the hull, surrounded by an assortment of equipment. Beside them

a rectangular section of the skin about eight feet square had been

cut away. “First entry point will be there- approximately

amidships. The outer hull is double layered; both layers have been

penetrated. Inside is an inner hull. . .” For the benefit of the

visitors, he gestured toward a display positioned near the

observation window showing the aperture in close-up.

‘Preliminary drilling shows that it’s a single layer. The valves

that you can see projecting from the inner hull were inserted to

allow samples of the internal atmosphere to be taken before opening

it up. Also, the cavity behind the access point has been

argon-flooded.”

Mills turned to Cameron before going on to describe further details

of the operation. “Lieutenant, carry out a final check of

communications links, please.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Cameron walked back to the supervisory console at

the end of the room and scanned the array of screens.

“Ice Hole to Subway. Come in, please.”

The face of Commander Stracey, directing activities out near the

hull, moved into view, encased in its helmet. “All checks completed

and go,” he reported. “Standing by, ready to proceed.”

“Ice Hole to Pithead. Report transmission quality.”

“All clear, vision and audio,” responded the duty controller from

the dome far above them.

“Ice Hole to Ganymede Main.” Cameron addressed screen three, which

showed Foster at Main Base, situated seven hundred miles away to

the south.

“Clear.”

“Ice Hole to Jupiter Four. Report, please.”

“All channels clear and checking positive.” The last acknowledgment

came from the deputy mission director on screen four, speaking from

his nerve center in the heart of the mile-long Jupiter Mission Four

command ship, at that moment orbiting over two thousand miles up

over Ganymede.

“All channels positive and ready to proceed, sir,” Cameron called

to Mills.

“Carry on, then, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Cameron passed the order to Stracey, and out by the hull the

ponderous figures lumbered into action, swinging forward a

rockdrill supported from an overhead gantry. The group by the

window watched in silence as the bit chewed relentlessly into the

inner wall. Eventually the drill was swung back.

“Initial penetration complete,” Stracey’s voice informed them.

“Nothing visible inside.”

An hour later, a pattern of holes adorned the exposed expanse of

metal. When lights were shone through and a TV probe in-

serted, the screen showed snatches of a large compartment crammed

with ducts and machinery. Shortl3~ afterward, Stracey’s team began

cutting out the panel with torches. Mills invited Peters and

Stanislow to come and observe the operations first-hand. The trio

left the control room, descended to the lower floor, and a few

minutes later emerged, clad in spacesuits, through the airlock onto

the tunnel floor. As they arrived at the aperture, the rectangle of

metal was just being swung aside.

The spotlights confirmed the general impression obtained via the

drill holes. When preliminary visual examinations were completed,

two sergeants who had been standing by stepped forward.

Communications lines were plugged into their backpacks and they

were handed TV cameras trailing cables, flashlights, and a pouch of

tools and accessories. At the same time, other members of the team

were smoothing over the jagged edges of the hole with pads of

adhesive plastic to prevent tearing of the lines. An extending

aluminum ladder was lowered into the hole and secured. The first

sergeant to enter turned about on the edge of the hole, carefully

located the top rung with his feet, and inch by inch disappeared

down into the chamber. When he had found a firm footing, the second

followed.

For twenty minutes they clambered through the mechanical jungle,

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