OPEN
They must have thought he was crazy, running through the lock to D Cylinder and stumbling up the narrow stairs to the upper level, shouting, “It’s open! It’s open!”
He came to the communications console just as Beth was [[118]] wiping the last crumbs of coconut from her lips. She set down her fork.
“What’s open?”
“The sphere!”
Beth spun in her chair. Tina ran over from the bank of VCR’s. They both looked at the monitor behind Beth. There was an awkward silence.
“Looks closed to me, Norman.”
“It was open. I saw it.” He told them about watching in the galley, on the monitor. “It was just a few seconds ago, and the sphere definitely opened. It must have closed again while I was on my way here.”
“Are you sure?”
“That’s a pretty small monitor in the galley. …”
“I saw it,” Norman said. “Replay it, if you don’t believe me.”
“Good idea,” Tina said, and she went to the recorders to play the tape back.
Norman was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. This was the first time he had exerted himself in the dense atmosphere, and he felt the effects strongly. DH-8 was not a good place to get excited, he decided.
Beth was watching him. “You okay, Norman?”
“I’m fine. I tell you, I saw it. It opened. Tina?”
“It’ll take me a second here.”
Harry walked in, yawning. “Beds in this place are great, aren’t they?” he said. “Like sleeping in a bag of wet rice. Sort of combination bed and cold shower.” He sighed. “It’ll break my heart to leave.”
Beth said, “Norman thinks the sphere opened.”
“When?” he said, yawning again.
“Just a few seconds ago.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting, interesting. I see it’s closed now.”
“We’re rewinding the videotapes, to look again.”
“Uh-huh. Is there any more of that cake?”
Harry seems very cool, Norman thought. This is a major piece of news and he doesn’t seem excited at all. Why was [[119]] that? Didn’t Harry believe it, either? Was he still sleepy, not fully awake? Or was there something else?
“Here we go,” Tina said.
The monitor showed jagged lines, and then resolved. On the screen, Tina was saying, “—hours the tapes are transferred to the submarine.”
Beth: “What for?”
Tina: “That’s so, if anything happens down here, the submarine will automatically go to the surface.”
Beth: “Oh, great. I won’t think about that too much. Where is Dr. Fielding now?”
Tina: “He gave up on the sphere, and went into the main flight deck with Edmunds.”
On the screen, Tina stepped out of view. Beth remained alone in the chair, eating the cake, her back to the monitor.
Onscreen, Tina was saying, “Do you think they’ll ever get the sphere open?”
Beth ate her cake. “Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know.”
There was a short pause, and then on the monitor behind Beth, the door of the sphere slid open.
“Hey! It did open!”
“Keep the tape running!”
Onscreen, Beth didn’t notice the monitor. Tina, still somewhere offscreen, said, “It scares me.”
Beth: “I don’t think there’s a reason to be scared.”
Tina: “It’s the unknown.”
“Sure,” Beth said, “but an unknown thing is not likely to be dangerous or frightening. It’s most likely to be just inexplicable.”
“I don’t know how you can say that.”
“You afraid of snakes?” Beth said, onscreen.
All during this conversation, the sphere remained open.
Watching, Harry said, “Too bad we can’t see inside it.”
“I may be able to help that,” Tina said. “I’ll do some image-intensification work with the computer.”
“It almost looks like there are little lights,” Harry said. “Little moving lights inside the sphere …”
Onscreen, Tina came back into view. “Snakes don’t bother me.”
[[120]] “Well, I can’t stand snakes,” Beth said. “Slimy, cold, disgusting things.”
“Ah, Beth,” Harry said, watching the monitor. “Got snake envy?”
Onscreen, Beth was saying, “If I were a Martian who came to Earth and I stumbled upon a snake—a funny, cold, wiggling, tube-like life—I wouldn’t know what to think of it. But the chance that I would stumble on a poisonous snake is very small. Less than one percent of snakes are poisonous. So, as a Martian, I wouldn’t be in danger from my discovery of snakes; I’d just be perplexed. That’s what’s likely to happen with us. We’ll be perplexed.”
Onscreen, Beth was saying, “Anyway, I don’t think we’ll ever get the sphere open, no.”
Tina: “I hope not.”
Behind her on the monitor, the sphere closed.
“Huh!” Harry said. “How long was it open all together?” “Thirty-three point four seconds,” Tina said.
They stopped the tape. Tina said, “Anybody want to see it again?” She looked pale.
“Not right now,” Harry said. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, stared off, thinking.
No one else said anything; they just waited patiently for Harry. Norman realized how much the group deferred to him. Harry is the person who figures things out for us, Norman thought. We need him, rely on him.
“Okay,” Harry said at last. “No conclusions are possible. We have insufficient data. The question is whether the sphere was responding to something in its immediate environment, or whether it just opened, for reasons of its own. Where’s Ted?”
“Ted left the sphere and went to the flight deck.”
“Ted’s back,” Ted said, grinning broadly. “And I have some real news.”
“So do we,” Beth said.
“It can wait,” Ted said.
“But—”
“—I know where this ship went,” Ted said excitedly. “I’ve been analyzing the flight data summaries on the flight deck, [[121]] looking at the star fields, and I know where the black hole is located.”
“Ted,” Beth said, “the sphere opened.”
“It did? When?”
“A few minutes ago. Then it closed again.”
“What did the monitors show?”
“No biological hazard. It seems to be safe.”
Ted looked at the screen. “Then what the hell are we doing here?”
Barnes came in. “Two-hour rest period is over. Everybody ready to go back to the ship for a last look?”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Harry said.
The sphere was polished, silent, closed. They stood around it and stared at themselves, distorted in reflection. Nobody spoke. They just walked around it.
Finally Ted said, “I feel like this is an IQ test, and I’m flunking.”
“You mean like the Davies Message?” Harry said.
“Oh that,” Ted said.
Norman knew about the Davies Message. It was one of the episodes that the SETI promoters wished to forget. In 1979, there had been a large meeting in Rome of the scientists involved in the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. Basically, SETI called for a radio astronomy search of the heavens. Now the scientists were trying to decide what sort of message to search for.
Emerson Davies, a physicist from Cambridge, England, devised a message based on fixed physical constants, such as the wavelength of emitted hydrogen, which were presumably the same throughout the universe. He arranged these constants in a binary pictorial form.
Because Davies thought this would be exactly the kind of message an alien intelligence might send, he figured it would be easy for the SETI people to figure out. He distributed his picture to everybody at the conference.
Nobody could figure it out.
When Davies explained it, they all agreed it was a clever [[122]] idea, and a perfect message for extraterrestrials to send. But the fact remained that none of them had been able to figure out this perfect message.
One of the people who had tried to figure it out, and had failed, was Ted.
“Well, we didn’t try very hard,” Ted said. “There was a lot going on at the conference. And we didn’t have you there, Harry.”
“You just wanted a free trip to Rome,” Harry said.
Beth said, “Is it my imagination, or have the door markingschanged?”
Norman looked. At first glance, the deep grooves appeared the same, but perhaps the pattern was different. If so, the change was subtle.
“We can compare it with old videotapes,” Barnes said. “It looks the same to me,” Ted said. “Anyway, it’s metal. I doubt it could change.”
“What we call metal is just a liquid that flows slowly at room temperature,” Harry said. “It’s possible that this metal is changing.”
“I doubt it,” Ted said.
Barnes said, “You guys are supposed to be the experts. We know this thing can open. It’s been open already. How do we get it open again?”
“We’re trying, Hal.”
“It doesn’t look like you’re doing anything.”
From time to time, they glanced at Harry, but Harry just stood there, looking at the sphere, his hand on his chin, tapping his lower lip thoughtfully with his finger.
“Harry?”
Harry said nothing.
Ted went up and slapped the sphere with the flat of his hand. It made a dull sound, but nothing happened. Ted pounded the sphere with his fist; then he winced and rubbed his hand.
“I don’t think we can force our way in. I think it has to let you in,” Norman said. Nobody said anything after that. “My hand-picked, crack team,” Barnes said, needling them. “And all they can do is stand around and stare at it.”
[[123]] “What do you want us to do, Hal? Nuke it?”
“If you don’t get it open, there are people who will try that, eventually.” He glanced at his watch. “Meanwhile, you got any other bright ideas?”
Nobody did.
“Okay,” Barnes said. “Our time is up. Let’s go back to the habitat and get ready to be ferried to the surface.”
DEPARTURE
Norman pulled the small navy-issue bag from beneath his bunk in C Cylinder. He got his shaving kit from the bathroom, found his notebook and his extra pair of socks, and zipped the bag shut.
“I’m ready.”
“Me, too,” Ted said. Ted was unhappy; he didn’t want to leave. “I guess we can’t delay it any longer. The weather’s getting worse. They’ve got all the divers out from DH-7, and now there’s only us.”
Norman smiled at the prospect of being on the surface again. I never thought I’d look forward to seeing Navy battleship gray on a ship, but I do.
“Where’re the others?” Norman said.
“Beth’s already packed. I think she’s with Barnes in communication. Harry, too, I guess.” Ted plucked at his jumpsuit. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll be glad to see the last of this suit.
They left the sleeping quarters, heading down to communications. On the way, they squeezed past Teeny Fletcher, who was going toward B Cylinder.
“Ready to leave?” Norman said.
“Yes, sir, all squared away,” Fletcher said, but her features were tense, and she seemed rushed, under pressure.
[[124]] “Aren’t you going the wrong way?” Norman asked.
“Just checking the diesel backups.”
Backups? Norman thought. Why check the backups now that they were leaving?
“She probably left something on that she shouldn’t have,” Ted said, shaking his head.
In the communications console, the mood was grim. Barnes was on the phone with the surface vessels. “Say that again,” he said. “I want to hear who’s authorized that.” He was frowning, angry.
They looked at Tina. “How’s the weather on the surface?”
“Deteriorating fast, apparently.”
Barnes spun: “Will you idiots keep it down?”
Norman dropped his day bag on the floor. Beth was sitting near the portholes, tired, rubbing her eyes. Tina was turning off the monitors, one after another, when she suddenly stopped.
“Look.”
On one monitor, they saw the polished sphere. Harry was standing next to it.
“What’s he doing there?”
“Didn’t he come back with us?”
“I thought he did.”
“I didn’t notice; I assumed he did.”
“God damn it, I thought I told you people—” Barnes began, and then stopped. He stared at the monitor.
On the screen, Harry turned toward the video camera and made a short bow.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please. I think you will find this of interest.”
Harry turned to face the sphere. He stood with his arms at his sides, relaxed. He did not move or speak. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.
The door to the sphere opened.
“Not bad, huh?” Harry said, with a sudden grin.
Then Harry stepped inside the sphere. The door closed behind him.
* * *
[[125]] They all began talking at once. Barnes was shouting over everyone else, shouting for quiet, but no one paid any attention until the lights in the habitat went out. They were plunged into darkness.
Ted said, “What’s happened?”
The only light came through the portholes, faintly, from the grid lights. A moment later, the grid went out, too.
“No power …”
“I tried to tell you,” Barnes said.
There was a whirring sound, and the lights flickered, then came back on. “We have internal power; we’re running on our diesels now.”
“Why?”
“Look,” Ted said, pointing out the porthole.
Outside they saw what looked like a wriggling silver snake. Then Norman realized it was the cable that linked them to the surface, sliding back and forth across the porthole as it coiled in great loops on the bottom.
“They’ve cut us free!”
“That’s right,” Barnes said. “They’ve got full gale-force conditions topside. They can no longer maintain cables for power and communications. They can no longer use the submarines. They’ve taken all the divers up, but the subs can’t come back for us. At least not for a few days, until the seas calm down.”
“Then we’re stuck down here?”
“That’s correct.”
“For how long?”
“Several days,” Barnes said.
“For how long?”
“Maybe as long as a week.”
“Jesus Christ,” Beth said.
Ted tossed his bag onto the couch. “What a fantastic piece of luck,” he said.
Beth spun. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Let’s all stay calm,” Barnes said. “Everything’s under control. This is just a temporary delay. There’s no reason to get upset.”
But Norman didn’t feel upset. He felt suddenly exhausted. [[126]] Beth was sulking, angry, feeling deceived; Ted was excited, already planning another excursion to the spacecraft, arranging equipment with Edmunds.
But Norman felt only tired. His eyes were heavy; he thought he might go to sleep standing there in front of the monitors. He excused himself hurriedly, went back to his bunk, lay down. He didn’t care that the sheets were clammy; he didn’t care that the pillow was cold; he didn’t care that diesels were droning and vibrating in the next cylinder. He thought: This is a very strong avoidance reaction. And then he was asleep.
BEYOND PLUTO
Norman rolled out of bed and looked for his watch, but he’d gotten into the habit of not wearing one down here. He had no idea what time it was, how long he had been asleep. He looked out the porthole, saw nothing but black water. The grid lights were still off. He lay back in his bunk and looked at the gray pipes directly over his head; they seemed closer than before, as if they had moved toward him while he slept. Everything seemed cramped, tighter, more claustrophobic.
Several more days of this, he thought. God.
He hoped the Navy would think to notify his family. After so many days, Ellen would start to worry. He imagined her first calling the FAA, then calling the Navy, trying to find out what had happened. Of course, no one would know anything, because the project was classified; Ellen would be frantic.
Then he stopped thinking about Ellen. It was easier, he thought, to worry about your loved ones than to worry about yourself. But there wasn’t any point. Ellen would be okay. [[127]] And so would he. It was just a matter of waiting. Staying calm, and waiting out the storm.
He got into the shower, wondering if they’d still have hot water while the habitat was on emergency power. They did, and he felt less stiff after his shower. It was odd, he thought, to be a thousand feet underwater and to relish the soothing effects of a hot shower.
He dressed and headed for the C Cylinder. He heard Tina’s voice say, “—think they’ll ever get the sphere open?”
Beth: “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“It scares me.”
“I don’t think there’s a reason to be scared.”
“It’s the unknown,” Tina said.
When Norman came in, he found Beth running the videotape, looking at herself and Tina. “Sure,” Beth said on the videotape, “but an unknown thing is not likely to be dangerous or frightening. It’s most likely to be just inexplicable.”
Tina said, “I don’t know how you can say that.”
“You afraid of snakes?” Beth said, onscreen.
Beth snapped off the videotape. “Just trying to see if I could figure out why it opened,” she said.
“Any luck?” Norman said.
“Not so far.” On the adjacent monitor, they could see the sphere itself. The sphere was closed.
“Harry still in there?” Norman said.
“Yes,” Beth said.
“How long has it been now?”
She looked up at the consoles. “A little more than an hour.”
“I only slept an hour?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m starving,” Norman said, and he went down to the galley to eat. All the coconut cake was gone. He was looking for something else to eat when Beth showed up.
“I don’t know what to do, Norman,” she said, frowning.
“About what?”
“They’re lying to us,” she said.
“Who is?”
[[128]] “Barnes. The Navy. Everybody. This is all a setup, Norman.”
“Come on, Beth. No conspiracies, now. We have enough to worry about without—”
“—Just look at this,” she said. She led him back upstairs, flicked on a console, pressed buttons.
“I started putting it together when Barnes was on the phone,” she said. “Barnes was talking to somebody right up to the moment when the cable started to coil down. Except that cable is a thousand feet long, Norman. They would have broken communications several minutes before unhooking the cable itself.”
“Probably, yes …”
“So who was Barnes talking to at the last minute? Nobody.”
“Beth …”
“Look,” she said, pointing to the screen.