The Dig by Alan Dean Foster

None did. Among those so inclined, none had the strength or talent. They could only flow and observe, drifting as easily through the rock beneath the travelers’ feet as through the air above their heads.

Low was tiring of ruined walls and crumbling structures. “Look, we’re not going to find anything up here. We should’ve gone the other way.”

At which point Robbins halted and pointed. “Is that so? Isn’t that another one of those metal plates? The kind that we used on the asteroid?”

The scientist shaded his eyes. “I believe you are right, Maggie.” He hurried forward, the others following.

It might have been a little larger than the four plates they had used to activate the asteroid-ship, but there was no mistaking the shape, the way the inscriptions were laid out, or that soft charcoal-gray sheen.

“Let’s take it back to the asteroid and see if it fits the dome,”

Low suggested. “Maybe it’ll kick the thing into reverse. Maybe it’ll do something.”

“It’s certainly worth a try,” Brink agreed.

Spreading out, they dug at the loose dirt and gravel until they could slide their fingers under the plate’s curving edge. Despite their best efforts, it would not come free.

Lying prone and squinting, Low continued to scratch dirt from beneath the metal. “It’s set in a groove of some kind. Maybe we ought to leave this one alone.”

“Nonsense!” Brink moved forward. “Here, let me.”

Additional work reduced the height of the surrounding soil until they had room to shove the disk to one side. It shifted reluctantly to its right, sliding on ancient bearings.

They probably shouldn’t have been surprised, but were, when a shaft was revealed beneath. It was wider and not as deep as the one that had led them to the asteroid’s interior.

“I can see the bottom.” Robbins leaned over to peer cautiously downward. “There’s a smooth floor and some loose rock.” She took a step back from the opening. “It looks like debris that’s fallen in.”

“The result of natural weathering processes,” Brink explained. “There is no vacuum here to preserve structural integrity.” He glanced over at Low. “If you would like to be the first to enter, Commander, I will gladly defer.”

Low considered. He’d been watching and studying Brink as well as Maggie ever since they’d left the asteroid. The scientist seemed as competent on the ground as he’d been in space, if a touch overly eager to leap ahead where Low would have acted cautiously. It was going to be impossible to restrain his enthusiasm forever. Maybe now was the time to let him take the lead for a while. It would be useful to see how he would act when allowed to choose the direction of their advance.

“Ludger, I think archaeology’s probably more your line. I’m liable to disturb something when I don’t even know what I’m looking at. You go first.”

The scientist considered the drop. “It is not that far. Getting out again may pose a problem, however.”

“We’ll just use the escalator.” Low grinned. “Can’t find anything useful if we don’t look.”

Brink nodded. Slipping his legs into the gap, he started to turn, intending to grip the inner edge of the shaft and then lower himself as far as possible by his hands before dropping free.

“It’s not bad,” he informed them. “If I can just reach—”

There was the sound of rock giving way, and Robbins screamed, “Look out!” as she stumbled backward. Low dove forward, grabbing for the scientist’s wrists, but he was too late. Brink lost his grip and fell.

Instead of quieting, the rumbling and grinding grew more intense. “Get back!” Low yelled at Robbins as he scrambled backward. The warning was unnecessary. She was already retreating.

The entire section of ground in which the shaft opening was embedded promptly gave way, collapsing into the chamber below. Dust and echoes rose from the cave-in, accompanied by a single muted curse in German. Then there was silence, broken only by the plastic click of broken rock settling into place.

Low rose and brushed at his coveralls. The opening at his feet was now some twenty feet across. “Maggie, you all right?”

She was standing on the far side of the hole that had opened in the ground, cautiously peering down and waving at the dust, which continued to drift upward.

“Ludger? Ludger!” There was no response.

Treading carefully and testing his footing before putting down his weight, Low walked around the opening to rejoin her. The ceiling collapse had left a pile of rubble that reached nearly to ground level, offering a comparatively easy way down. Of their companion there was no sign.

“Ludger!” Cupping his hands to his mouth, Low leaned over and bellowed into the depths. A couple of eerie echoes were all that responded. He turned to Robbins. “We’ve got to go down and find him.” She nodded assent, her expression stricken.

They searched until they found the point where the pile of collapsed material came closest to ground level. Gritting his teeth, Low took a running start and leaped for the crest of the pile. He landed solidly, slipped backward and found himself tumbling out of control.

The floor was featureless and unmarred by the collapse. Robbins was at his side in seconds as he struggled to sit up.

“You okay?”

He brushed gravel from his sleeves. “Yeah. Lost my balance. Looks like you didn’t have any trouble.”

She smiled apologetically. “Three years’ varsity gymnastics. My mother thought I was wasting my time.” She helped him to his feet.

“Stay close,” he told her.

She eyed him sardonically. “Why? So I can give you a hand, or so you can give me a hand?”

“Whatever,” he snapped. Together they began to circle the base of the collapse. Ancient building material and natural rock and earth mixed to form the high mound.

As they searched, they spared an occasional glance for the underground chamber in which they found themselves. It was enormous, much larger than the interior of the asteroid. As with that vehicle, pale illumination emanated directly from the walls and floor. The ceiling, however, gave off no light. Either that part of the system had failed or this chamber was differently designed. As a result, the illumination was dimmer than it had been aboard the transport.

Low’s examination of their new surroundings was interrupted by a cry from Robbins. “Oh my God!” Darting forward, she knelt and began pulling at something sticking out of the pile of detritus. An arm.

The only visible part of the scientist, it was still attached to the rest of him. “Careful.” Working frantically, Low moved the larger rocks while Robbins dug away the smaller debris. “We don’t want to bring any more of this down on him.”

It seemed to take forever before they had enough of the rock shifted to be able to drag Brink’s body from the heap. The scientist’s eyes were shut, rock dust covered him from head to foot, and he was badly bruised and scraped. The multitude of small cuts, however, paled beside the deep bruise above his temple.

“Concussion,” Low announced curtly as he studied the wound. “Maybe contusions. Could be internal bleeding. Damn.” Removing his shirt, he made a crude pillow for the scientist’s head, resting it gently on the compacted garment.

They alternated performing mouth-to-mouth and CPR. Low tried everything he knew, and Robbins added a few first-aid tricks she’d picked up in her travels, but nothing worked. Angry and frustrated, the Commander finally leaned back against the small mountain of debris, running a hand through his dust-speckled hair.

“Well, that’s it.”

“What do you mean, that’s it?” Robbins’s professional demeanor was badly shaken. “It can’t be! We haven’t been here half a day.”

“Doesn’t matter how long we’ve been here.” Low spoke quietly, evenly. “If we’d been here a week, he’d still be just as dead.” It sounded harsher than he intended. He looked away from her. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Robbins knelt by the scientist’s side. She’d seen a great deal of death, altogether more than was reasonable for someone her age. It had been by choice, an unavoidable corollary to several of the dangerous stories she had volunteered to cover. It was the suddenness of Brink’s passing that hit her so hard now. The suddenness, and its matter-of-factness. They were not in a war zone, not trying to avoid terrorist fanatics, not dealing with the deadly vacuum of space. The scientist had been doing his job, was all. And now he was dead, victim of the dispassionate collapse of the entrance to still another alien construct. It was so damned impersonal. A lousy rockfall, something that could just as easily have happened back home in Germany.

Here, on the verge of great despair and equally great discovery, it struck her as obscene. She did not cry. It would have been unprofessional, and besides, she was too furious at an indifferent Fate.

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