“Here we are in the same situation. The only difference is our people have had 40,000 years to develop a guide on what to do in this circumstance. We have to trust the guidance of the directive rather than our own self-serving judgments. The directive has been debated by millions of scholars over tens of thousands of years. The five of us are not about to improve upon their thinking in the next few minutes.
“There’s too much at stake to improvise as Captain Diaz did at first contact with the Alpha. If we do things wrong here, we might plant the seeds for another hostile species to come after us just like the Alpha have done. The greater good for the Novi people is served by us following the directive to the letter.”
For good measure, Hastelloy stood up from his command chair, walked to the front of the bridge and turned around to face his men. After looking at each one of them in turn he leaned forward with his hands on top of the helm station.
“If following the council directive we all swore an oath to uphold is not good enough for you, then consider the situation from a tactical point of view. Landing farther away will allow us to hit the Alpha at a time and method of our choosing. They can only sit and wait for our attack. If we were to land right next to the Alpha ship we’d lose this advantage. They would know exactly where we are and be on top of us immediately. I prefer to attack at a time of my choosing when I’m certain I can win the fight. I refuse to assume a reckless strategy of jumping into an unknown situation and hoping for the best.”
As Hastelloy reviewed his crew again, it was as if he turned a switch. The slouching men with glazed looks in their eyes were replaced with officers sitting at attention with the spark of life glowing in their eyes. The confidence in their commander being guided by sound military thinking and not by politicians or scholars had returned.
The Captain paced back to his command chair satisfied there would be no more questions about his orders. “Now, let’s get this ship on the ground.”
“About that, sir, I’ve put together a landing program to get us on the island, I think. I know it’s my responsibility as the helmsman, and I am sorry to ask it, but I feel a bit out of my league here. Can you or Tonwen double-check my calculations?” Valnor asked.
“Of course. With a fully loaded Nexus and our own lives on the line we’re going to run this landing procedure through every check, and simulation we can come up with. Then we’ll do it all over again for good measure,” the Captain replied.
After spending the next half hour stress testing the landing program, Hastelloy was satisfied with the result. “Well done Valnor, your programming was spot on. The only adjustment we made was to keep us in a high orbit longer to lose our speed so our fire trail will be less noticeable and completely gone by the time we approach our landing site. That way the Alpha will have no clue where we set down and the risk of cultural contamination will be less. Please upload the sequence and begin the countdown.”
The Lazarus boldly dove nose first toward the planet at the blistering pace of 200 miles per second. Just before entering the atmosphere, and a mere two seconds away from colliding with the planet’s surface, the thrusters beneath the front nose fired. The maneuver was just enough to throw the ship into a decaying orbit in the thermosphere layer. As the ship made contact with particles in the atmosphere, the outer hull ignited into flames.
The inferno outside grew more intense and began testing the limits of the heat shields as the craft descended into the mesosphere. At this point, the thrusters on both sides of the front nose fired in an alternating pattern causing the Lazarus to wobble side to side in an effort to bleed off speed more rapidly.
Valnor jumped in his seat as sparks flew from his console. “The hull temperature is out of control sir. Circuits are starting to fry all over the ship. We need to do something.”
“The dye has been cast Ensign. There’s no turning back now. We can’t do anything until we reach our glide pattern,” Hastelloy stated in a calm, matter of fact voice. “Just sit tight, enjoy the show, and try not to get singed.”
Eventually the ship slowed from the friction of the atmosphere. The flames died down and the hull temperature returned to tolerable levels. The Lazarus entered the lower atmosphere and began a gliding descent to its landing zone. Just when Hastelloy breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the most treacherous part of their landing was behind them, the ship bucked to the side and dove nose first toward the planet.
Valnor sprang into action. “I’ve assumed manual control. We’re passing through a severe storm and have lost a lot of altitude. We might not be able to make our landing site.”
“Once we’re through the storm, get us back to our optimal glide path and reassess our chances of hitting the landing target,” Hastelloy ordered while attempting to keep himself from bouncing out of his command chair from the turbulence.
As suddenly as they appeared, the bumps vanished and Valnor delivered his prognosis about reaching the landing site. “We’re in the middle of a sea about 100 miles away from the targeted landing site, but we’re going to come about ten miles short of the island. The really bad news is there’s no other landmass reachable for us at this point. What do we do Captain?”
“Yield your station to me and learn a new trick,” Hastelloy ordered.
Valnor slowly rose from his station. He looked understandably puzzled, but also psychologically devastated. Being relieved of duty was indeed a dire insult, but Hastelloy didn’t have time to give a lesson. He slid into the helm station and immediately angled the ship’s nose downward.
“But sir, you’re losing altitude too fast, you’ll only shorten our gliding distance,” Valnor protested.
The captain paid no attention. The ships speed accelerated as it neared the water’s surface. The craft still had fifteen miles to the island’s shores when Hastelloy pulled the nose back up and held the altitude steady at 150 feet off the waves of the sea below. To everyone’s surprise, except the captain, the loss of air speed was almost non-existent.
“You’re witnessing the wing-in-ground effect at its best right now,” Hastelloy instructed. “When a winged craft in an atmosphere is flown close to the water, wingtip vortices are disrupted. The result is lower induced drag, which increases the speed and lift of the aircraft. We’re basically riding a cushion of air between the water and the belly of our ship.”
Once the Lazarus was over the island, Hastelloy deployed the air brakes, pulled the ship up into a series of controlled stalls and set the craft down, light as a feather, a few hundred feet from the southern shore. He instantly stood up from the helm station and issued orders.
“Tonwen, distribute vaccinations to everyone for the viruses and bacteria on this world and then pop the hatch. We’ve got work to do.”
The captain turned to meet Valnor’s wide-eyed gaze, “Don’t worry. You didn’t fall asleep during class. They don’t teach that little maneuver at the academy,” and walked towards Tonwen to receive his injection.
On his way to receive his own vaccination, Valnor stopped to talk with Gallono. “I am not sure about you, but I am real glad he’s on our side.”
Chapter 12: Just a Warm Up
Alex huffed and puffed as she willed her legs and arms to descend one more rung down the ladder built into the side of the tunnel Professor Russell, Dr. Andre, and she discovered. Although young and in reasonably good shape, climbing down the three hundred foot ladder was testing her limits. Maybe it wasn’t the physical exertion so much as the mental strain of lowering herself into a seemingly bottomless pit.
The darkness pressed in around her like no other place she’d ever been; it was almost suffocating. She couldn’t shake the sensation of having an anchor tied around her waist dragging her down to the bottom of the ocean. The feeling only intensified as she sank deeper and deeper down the dark shaft.
Alex looked straight ahead, past her hands, to the polished metallic side of the tunnel. It was unnatural, she thought, how the light from the miner’s lamp on her head didn’
t reflect much off the wall. Normal polished metal amplifies light hitting it; instead, this substance greedily horded the illuminating rays so she could only see ten feet into the darkness that enveloped her. The one comfort keeping her from scampering back up to the surface was the voice of Professor Russell down below growing closer.
Alex’s foot slipped off the next foothold, nearly causing her to fall. She managed to pull her body weight back up with her arms and let out a labored sigh. “Are we there yet?”
“I’m afraid I can’t see you quite yet, but judging by the smell, I’d say you’re getting close,” Professor Russell teased.
“Raise your hand if you’re sure?” Alex quoted from the old underarm deodorant commercials as she continued climbing again. “I think I could’ve put a whole stick of deodorant on this morning, and I’d still smell like a wet dog right now.”
Finally, Alex saw solid ground beneath her feet and gratefully let go of the ladder. Panting like she just ran a mile in world record time, she gasped, “I have to say . . . you two . . . are putting me to shame. Here I am . . . half your age . . . about ready to pass out, and you’ve barely broke a sweat.”
“My dear, that was just a warm up. Now we have to hike three miles back to the Sphinx and cap it all off by climbing back up,” Dr. Andre said. “Do you need to rest a few minutes before we proceed?”
Not to be outdone by her elders, Alex took a deep breath, stood up straight and started walking down the tunnel with determination in every step. “Just try to keep up.”
Even though Alex was only five foot six inches, she felt a compulsion to hunch lower as the tunnel’s ceiling was only a few inches above her head. She felt a certain sympathy for her two companions who actually needed to bend lower as their height exceeded that of the six foot wide, six foot tall metal tube.
As she led the subterranean march back to the Sphinx, a feeling of being trapped began to overwhelm Alex. The claustrophobic feeling of the darkness grew to a fevered pitch as a thousand needle pricks danced up and down her spine. Her mind was briefly pulled back from the ensuing panic attack by the professor’s astute observation.
“Have you noticed how the light from our lamps doesn’t reflect off the walls much? It’s a little eerie don’t you think?”
“Well yeah,” Alex blasted back. “You’d think the assistant to a field archeologist would get numb to any creepy feelings when entering a tomb or underground tunnel. I still get the brief mental twinge like I just walked across someone’s grave but that always goes away after a short while. This place just won’t quit. I feel like a little kid who just watched Children of the Corn at midnight and then ran into the nearest corn field to experience the terror first hand.”
Professor Russell let out a hearty laugh. “I guess that’s one way to think of this place. If you want to torture yourself by all means keep it up.”
“If you have a better mindset for me, I’m open to suggestions,” Alex responded with a touch of anger at her very real fears being dismissed so flippantly.
“I’ll admit when I first climbed down the ladder I had the feeling something was lurking just outside the reach of the light waiting to grab me,” the professor said. With a chuckle he continued. “Now I can’t shake the image of a giant ogre sitting on a toilet at the end of this tube waiting to flush. I sure hope he’s reading a good article and takes his time.”
Alex burst out laughing at the mental image, and just like that her anxiety was gone, washed away with a giant flush.
“On a more serious note, how do you think a tunnel like this has remained hidden for all these years?” Professor Russell asked.
Dr. Andre answered promptly. “That is not hard to understand at all. The Sphinx rests in a depressed section of desert. The sands are constantly shifting to fill any voids. As a result, for most of its existence, the Sphinx has been buried up to its neck in sand.
“It was uncovered once by King Thutmose IV around 1425.” Dr. Andre instructed, “By the time Napoleon and his army arrived in Egypt, the great statue was once again buried up to the neck. The sand was not fully cleared away again until 1936, so we have really only had about a hundred years of full access to the Sphinx to work with. To be fair, most of the work done today revolves around preserving the statue, not exploring for fabled mystery chambers.”
“Over the years, three holes have been put into the Sphinx,” Professor Russell added. “One right behind the head, and two others around the base. It’s surprising none of those initiatives discovered anything. Instead, they were promptly sealed back up.”
“Maybe those projects were approved because the people hiding the chamber knew they wouldn’t come close to anything critical,” Alex submitted.
“Even armed with tools like ground penetrating radar, archeologists weren’t able to find this place,” Dr. Andre protested. “The bulk of the Sphinx’s body sits directly on top of the tunnel entrance which blocked the readings. Plus, who would have ever thought to look for an entrance to the tunnel three miles away across the other side of the Nile River? There was virtually no chance of discovering the tunnel until your sonic density procedure was perfected.”
Alex suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and shushed the others. As the induced silence set in a faint whisper from the darkness ahead came clear. Slowly, the explorers proceeded forward. It definitely was not voices, but it grew louder with each hesitant step. It began to sound very much like the squeaky sound of someone washing windows up ahead. Soon the noise was all around them and accompanied by the loud echo of trickling water.
“Do you think your giant finally finished his business,” Alex asked.
“No my dear,” Dr. Andre answered. “I believe we are walking directly underneath the Nile River right now. The engineering that went into build this tunnel is just remarkable. There is not a single seam allowing the ground water all around to seep in. This tunnel is a real marvel.”
Professor Russell stopped to scrape his hand along the side of the passageway. His fingertips made a muffled squeak as they moved along the smooth wall. “Now that I think about it, there’s nothing proving this tunnel was constructed thousands of years ago. Look at the walls, the alloys used in them couldn’t have existed back in ancient Egypt.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Alex said. “There’s nothing indicating this tunnel was constructed along with the Sphinx. The hidden room and tube could’ve been added later. Heck, it might have been put in last year and serves as a secret government base, or some high end dry cleaning business for all we know.”
“I think we will acquire the answer to all your questions in a few minutes, young lady,” Dr. Andre said. “I see the end of the tunnel up ahead, and the dreaded climb back to the surface awaits.”
The professor focused the beam of his flashlight and the three explorers followed the light until it ended at a shiny wall with ladder rungs heading up built into the side. When they reached the base of the ladder, Dr. Andre directed his flashlight up the shaft. A collective groan escaped all three when they saw no end to the darkness above.
“Oh . . . joy,” Alex sighed.
Chapter 13: Follow the Directive
After receiving his injection, Hastelloy took some time to look around his ship. Gallono would report the specifics, but he could plainly see the old girl’s best days were behind her. The air reeked of ozone from circuits that shorted out during their blazing hot descent. The multiple electrical fires left the air thick with smoke to the point Hastelloy could only see faint outlines of the workstations and his crew just a few feet away. “So what’s the good word Gallono?”
“I have the final damage report. Do you want the good news, the bad news, or the really bad news?” Gallono asked. He was attempting to make light of the situation, but the fact that he wouldn’t raise his head to make eye contact with Hastelloy told the real story.
“Let’s start with the good, and work our way down.”
Gallono slowly raised his head, sporting a force
d smile. The kind of pasted on look a boy makes while the first girl he asks out on a date turns him down cold. “There’s some good news actually. First, the Nexus and the accompanying regeneration chamber are still functional. Along with that, we still have full sensor capabilities and can pretty much monitor activity throughout the entire solar system. The catch is the ship’s power system is damaged to the point we don’t have enough juice to sustain operating the Nexus in its current configuration.
“What are you getting to Commander? We won’t be able to keep everyone in the Nexus alive?”
“No sir, that’s not it,” Gallono replied. “Right now the information of everyone in the Nexus is at the surface and capable of being transferred to the regeneration chamber. This draws an unsustainable amount of power. Moving the lives already in the Nexus to permanent stasis will conserve power.”
“That means if any of us die we’ll also be locked in the Nexus until we get back to Novus,” Tomal protested.
“I can solve that issue by establishing a separate partition within the Nexus to house the five of us,” Gallono stated, happy to be able to show up the cocky engineer. “If we die, we’d still come back through the regeneration chamber without trouble.”
“This step will give us enough power to keep the Nexus, regeneration chamber, and the sensors going?” Hastelloy asked.
“A qualified yes,” Gallono replied. “There’s not enough to run the sensors all the time. My recommendation is we only run a sensor sweep every couple of weeks.”
“Can we pick and choose who we move into permanent stasis, or is it all or nothing?” Hastelloy asked.
“Unfortunately, there’s no middle ground here. It is all or nothing.”
“Very well, implement your recommendation. If that’s the good news, I am not sure I can handle the bad.”
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