The protocol for opening the door had been relaxed somewhat. The wall of ice that had been built in the tunnel to the Outhouse was not duplicated for the Penthouse, but explosive charges had been set in the tunnel ceiling at the western corner of the tunnel at the Penthouse level. Both Reynolds and Matthews had detonators. Fred Taylor was also to be stationed at the top of the shaft, ready to perform his grisly task should it be necessary. Lightfoot and Greissman would stay outside the air lock until the door was open. All four of the door team would be wearing full biohazard suits.
As Reynolds finished eating, he looked at Lightfoot, who was sipping the last of his coffee.
“Well, Dan, you ready to go exploring again?”
“Can’t hardly wait.”
Reynolds turned to Mitchell. “You’re sure you want to be there? You can still change your mind.”
“Not on your life. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come along every day.”
“OK, let’s get started. Bob, I’d like you to personally make sure the Outhouse and the main chamber are clear. I want everyone out within a half hour.”
“No problem,” Sinclair replied.
“Where’s Arnie?” Reynolds asked.
“He’s already at the airlock, checking his gear. Even though he doubts he’ll find anything we didn’t see at the Outhouse.”
“Good and conscientious,” Reynolds observed.
The four pulled on their parkas, grabbed their gear and headed for the elevator.
As they walked, Reynolds leaned over towards Mitchell. “Don’t ever say I never take you anyplace nice!”
She laughed and poked him in the ribs. “Yeah, the penthouse suite!”
Chapter 18
The Penthouse
Both chambers were clear. The lights and video equipment were in place. The door team was suited up. Matthews and Taylor were in position with their respective detonators. The balance of the team watched on monitors in the main office.
Reynolds again leaned in against the wall, somewhat more awkwardly this time in his full bio suit. “Here we go,” he announced into his intercom.
He pressed on the first button with both thumbs, applying ever-greater pressure. It refused to budge. After thirty seconds or so, he relaxed. “It doesn’t want to go down,” he said. After a few seconds to gather his strength, he pressed again, with all the pressure he could muster. Again, nothing.
“I’m gonna try the mallet,” he said. He’d brought it with him, and would have kept it inside his parka to keep it warm were it not for the bio suit. Instead, he’d wrapped several layers of cloth around the peen to avoid marring the button.
Positioning the mallet carefully, he gave the button a whack. Nothing. He tried again, using additional force. Nothing. “Alright, you bugger, this is it!” he said. He raised the mallet a good 18 inches and brought it down on the button, and this time the button gave. It hadn’t gone all the way down, at least the way the Outhouse button had, so he gave it a couple of taps with the mallet, and pushed it all the way in.
“OK,” he announced. “One down, two to go.”
Again he started by pushing on the second button, and after a few seconds of increasing pressure, it slowly went down. “Alright!” he said. “Second button’s down, by hand.”
He moved to the third button, and pressed with both thumbs. It surprised him, going down under only moderate pressure. “There we go! All three buttons are down,” he said, and pushed himself away from the wall. He moved next to the other three, who were watching through the air lock windows.
“Nothing’s happening,” said Greissman, stating the obvious.
“No shit, Sherlock,” said Lightfoot with a grin.
“I don’t get it,” said Reynolds. “The buttons stayed down, just like they did when we opened the Outhouse. The combination on the wall is the same. Why isn’t it opening?”
“Do you think it might be because it’s 65 million years old?” asked Lightfoot.
“Out of warranty?” quipped Mitchell.
“Maybe using the mallet wasn’t such a good idea after all,” said Reynolds. “Maybe I broke the lock.”
A voice came over the intercom. It was Dick Behling. “Hal, remember Barry’s theory that the Outhouse had been soaking up energy from our lights? Maybe that’s the problem. Except for a small part of its base and the tunnels up the stairs and to the door, Town Hall’s still completely buried under ice. Maybe its batteries need charging.”
“Oh, cripes,” Reynolds replied, “are you suggesting that we’re going to have to excavate the whole damn thing and light it up before we can get inside?”
“I don’t think so. I’d be willing to bet that if we can put as much energy on the walls of Town Hall as we have on the Outhouse, we can charge it up enough to get the door open.”
“But as Barry pointed out, the Outhouse was lit for more than a week before we opened the door,” said Reynolds.
“OK, so let’s put more energy on it. We can clear more wall surface in the main chamber and in the tunnels on the second level, and really blast it. Full spectrum lights, instead of LCDs, and lots of ‘em.”
“What about melting?” asked Reynolds. “Putting a lot of energy onto this thing’s going to melt the ice in the main chamber and the tunnels.”
“Hal, that’s no big deal,” Matthews chimed in. “We can pump it up top.”
Reynolds considered these new options. His choice was either to try drilling through the door or wait a few days and see if it would open. If it didn’t, of course, he’d be back to the drilling option.
“OK, let’s try it.”
Over the rest of the day, every available light fixture was hauled downtown and brought to bear on the exposed surfaces of the lower pyramid’s base and the walls of the upper pyramid. Whereas the Outhouse had been lit by a combination of worklights and LCD lights with a total of just over 2,000 watts, Town Hall eventually had just less than 5,000 watts pouring onto it, which was as much generator capacity as could be spared.
Two days later, sleeping alone in his room, Reynolds was awakened by a knock at his door just after 5:00 AM.
“Hal,” said Sinclair. “Get dressed. The door’s opening.”
It took Reynolds less than a minute to pull on his clothes, and he accompanied Sinclair downtown. Sinclair briefed him as they walked.
“Evidently, the power’s slowly building up, and since the buttons were in their down position, the door started opening as it got enough juice. Rank was checking the wiring, and he was the one who found it.”
When they arrived at the air lock, Matthews was there, watching through the windows. He turned to Reynolds as the two men approached.
“Well, so much for the full-tilt protocol,” said Matthews, “It decided on its own when it was ready to open.”
The door had already moved back into the wall, and was more than half way open as it slowly slid to the left, just as had the door to the Outhouse.
Reynolds checked the pressure gauges inside the air lock, and was relieved to see that they indicated essentially neutral air pressure inside the Penthouse. At least nothing gaseous was pushing to get out.
“OK,” said Reynolds, “let’s go back and get the team together. We better grab something to eat while we’re there, ‘cause I get the feeling this could be a long day.”
An hour later, the entry team — Lightfoot, the “Star Trek” fan, called it the “away team” — was back in place and ready to go. The door was now fully open, having receded completely into the wall. Reynolds shined his flashlight through the two sets of air lock windows, but couldn’t see anything.
“Dan, Arnie, you guys ready?” asked Reynolds.
“All set,” said Greissman. Lightfoot nodded inside his helmet.
Lightfoot opened the outer door, and he and Greissman entered, closing the door behind them. Their equipment was already inside. Greissman turned the valve that would increase the air pressure inside the air lock by an additional five pounds per sq
uare inch as a precaution. After two minutes, with their ears having popped, he signaled to Lightfoot, who turned the handle of the inner door and, with an effort against the pressure difference, pulled it open.
From inside the air lock, the two men took their respective readings. Lightfoot was done relatively quickly, and he spoke first. “This is fascinating. The atmosphere inside contains nitrogen, argon, carbon dioxide, neon, helium and other trace gases, but no oxygen whatsoever.”
“That’s exactly what I’m showing,” said Greissman.
“What do you think that means?” asked Reynolds.
“It’s probably an artificial atmosphere. The oxygen’s been removed.”
“Why would they have done that?”
“Well, one reason I can think of is to prevent oxidation of items stored inside.”
“What would you recommend, Arnie?” asked Reynolds.
“I think for the time being, it’d be a good idea to preserve the atmosphere inside as much as possible. At least until we have some idea of what’s in there. I don’t see anything dangerous in the readings, so I’d suggest we dispense with pressurizing the air lock to limit our contamination of their atmosphere.”
“Sounds fine to me,” said Reynolds.
“Then let’s go,” said Greissman.
“We’ll be right behind you. Don’t touch anything!” Reynolds cautioned.
Lightfoot stepped through the inner door and entered the Penthouse. Greissman followed by a few feet. They’d decided to stay apart initially on the assumption that the floor would act as a light switch in the same way the floor of the Outhouse had. This would conserve Town Hall’s energy. Once Greissman closed the inner airlock door, Reynolds and Mitchell repeated the process.
The four humans found themselves standing in a corridor, the walls of which echoed the shape of the door. It was shaped in an arch, with a point at the ceiling. It was about seven feet wide, nine feet high, and it ended in what appeared to be a wall at the far end, about 30 feet away.
“OK, let’s stay spaced apart until we get to the other end. There has to be another door there,” said Reynolds. With Lightfoot and Greissman in the lead, the four slowly made their way to the other end.
“Now what?” asked Greissman.
“When was the last time you went to a supermarket?” Lightfoot responded. “Step towards me.”
He and Greissman both stepped in toward the door and stood next to each other. For a moment nothing happened, and then the walls of the corridor began to brighten, stabilizing at a dull glow. Simultaneously, the wall in front of them slowly began to slide sideways. Lightfoot held out his MPA and took a set of readings.
“I’m showing electrical activity. Very low level. No radiation, no radio frequencies other than our intercoms. It looks safe.” He turned and looked at Reynolds. “Hal?” he asked.
Reynolds thought for a moment before responding.
“My concern is that if we all go in, the door may close behind us. That’d cut us off from contact with the outside.”
“I strongly urge you not to do that,” came the voice of Fred Taylor over their headsets.
“Commander, it’s not just your concerns that make me cautious,” Reynolds answered. “I’m also worried that it might not open again once we’re in. Town Hall appears to be running on very low power, and who knows what else we might activate once the door closed. We could use up all the power and end up stuck in here.”
Rank Matthews’ voice was the next one on the headsets. “Hal, does it look like you could brace the door open?”
Reynolds considered this. Leave it to Rank to come up with an obvious solution. “Yeah, I bet we could.”
“I’ve got a tape measure,” said Mitchell, rummaging in her bag. She handed it to Lightfoot, who handed the end of the tape to Greissman. They knelt down and measured the doorway.
“Five feet, seven inches,” said Lightfoot.
“I can cut you a beam in about five minutes,” Matthews said.
“OK, Rank, do it. And let’s get 300 pounds of sandbags up here too. I’d rather the door stayed open on its own if possible.”
Turning to Lightfoot, he said, “Dan, why don’t you and Steph trade places, and you and I can go back and get the stuff.”
“Right,” said Lightfoot.
Reynolds and Lightfoot retreated back to and through the air lock.
“Whadya think?” Greissman asked Mitchell.
“I’m one giant goose bump,” she replied.
As they stood in position to hold the door open, Mitchell aimed her flashlight into the interior. Greissman followed her cue and did the same with his.
The door opened into a large chamber, perhaps sixty feet across to the corner opposite the door, though it was hard to tell by the glare of the flashlight. The two walls to either side appeared to be essentially vertical at their bases, but at about eight feet up, started leaning inward as they arched up to a peak about 30 feet overhead.
In the center of the chamber there was a raised area that appeared, from the angle from which they were viewing it, as if it repeated the triangular shape of the chamber itself. On top of the raised area there were two large shapes, viewed on end in the forms of equilateral triangles, each with one point embedded in the raised surface and a horizontal flat surface on top. From where they stood, there appeared to be another object on the other side of the triangular forms. As Mitchell and Greissman moved the beams of their lights around the chamber, they could see a series of openings punctuating the walls, indicating rooms off the main chamber.
Suspended from the ceiling by three slender columns was another shape, slightly smaller than the base of the raised area, and about nine or ten feet above the base.
After what seemed like only moments, but was actually nearly fifteen minutes, they heard the airlock door behind them open, and turned to see Reynolds and Lightfoot hauling a piece of I-beam into the corridor. The two men brought it to the doorway, and moving around Mitchell and Lightfoot, placed it in position to brace the door open.
“Don’t move,” cautioned Reynolds. “Let’s get the sandbags in place.”
He and Lightfoot went back, and in several trips, brought six 50-pound sandbags to the doorway, stacking them two across and three high between Mitchell and Greissman. When they were done, Reynolds motioned the two of them to step away from the door. The I-beam was about an inch shorter than the span of the doorway, and Reynolds had placed it hard on the side away from the door’s current position inside the wall. As Mitchell and Greissman stepped back, he watched the door, and it stayed where it was.
“Good,” he said, “I think we’ve got double protection now, and this way the door won’t be straining to close itself, using up power.”
“We are using power to light up the hallway,” observed Lightfoot.
“Yeah, but I think it’s already a bit brighter in here than before. Remember, their lights are incredibly efficient, and we’re pumping a lot of energy into this thing. I’d say we’re gaining on it.”
Looking at each of the others in turn, he said, “Everybody ready?” He got nods from the other three.
“How about this time, ladies first?”
Mitchell grinned. Affecting a Southern accent, she said, “Charmed, I’m sure,” and stepped through the door.
The prearranged plan was to perform a quick survey of the interior, determine whether it was safe to enter without bio suits — a question already partly answered — and then regroup outside and assess the situation.
“Let’s spread out, folks,” said Reynolds. “Steph, you’re the boss for the time being. Tell us what you want.”
Mitchell took a few steps to the right, and swept the floor with her light. “I don’t see any debris. The surfaces look clean.” She and the others swung their lights around the chamber. The two walls to either side were punctuated by two openings each; the wall with the door through which they’d entered also had two openings, one on either side of the entry.
/> “Let’s split up. Dan, Arnie, why don’t you guys check the doors. Hal, let’s you and I check this thing in the middle. If you see anything organic-looking or any kind of debris on the floor, stay clear. Don’t touch anything, and take lots of pictures.”
All of the team members had cameras: Reynolds had a standard digital camera; Lightfoot had his souped-up Canon; Greissman and Mitchell had film cameras.
Mitchell and Reynolds approached the freestanding structure in the center of the chamber. The base was indeed triangular, echoing the shape of the walls. It was roughly a foot high, and each side was around 25 feet long. Centered in the base and aligned pointing towards the door to the outside were the two large shapes, side by side and separated by about 30 inches. Viewed on end, they were triangular, with the bottom foot or so embedded in the base. They were roughly eight feet long and the top surface was a bit more than four feet wide. At the other end was another object, this one about five feet tall. As Mitchell moved to the side of the base, she saw that this third object was triangular as viewed from above, and that its top surface was at an angle, slanting down away from the center of the base. It looked like a podium.
Mitchell stepped onto the base, and examined the nearest of the two objects. The top surface was covered with writing, again in relief, but the letters were shiny. Shining her light on them, she saw that they appeared to be covered with gold.
“Hal, come look at this,” she said.
Reynolds stepped up, moving to the space between the two objects across from Mitchell. “Wow,” he said. “It’s beautiful!” He pulled out his camera and took a series of photos. Mitchell did the same, and then started taking measurements, which she entered into her ePad.
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