“Mr. President,” said Winston, “that brings up something that I think I should mention.” He shifted slightly in his chair as the President turned his attention to him.
“A few days ago, a new group of team members arrived at the site. Among them was a graduate student from Holy Spirit University, a fundamentalist school. Since he arrived, we’ve begun intercepting satellite telephone calls that have been traced to the office of Reverend Billy Joe Wilder.”
“The televangelist?” asked the President.
“Yes sir. We know that he made a substantial financial contribution to the project in return for the placement of this student at the site.”
“What’s been the nature of these calls?”
“We don’t know. They’ve been heavily encrypted, and we’ve been unable to decode them.”
“I thought the NSA could decode anything,” said Lindskog.
“The latest public key encryption algorithms are virtually impossible to crack,” answered Chapin.
“If we were to devote our most powerful supercomputer to the task, we might be able to decode a single message, but it could take weeks or even months to do so. That’s why we opposed the Communications Privacy Act,” he said, looking first at Hall, and then at Lindskog. Hall had opposed the bill, which had passed the year before. Lindskog and the majority of both houses had supported it, and Dellinger had signed it into law.
“Well, there’s no point in crying over water under the bridge,” said Dellinger, who was famous for mixing his metaphors. “The key information here is that the religious right appear to have one of their own at the site. What do we know about this student?”
“His name is Eugene L. Northrup. He maintained a 3.4 grade average in his undergraduate work, and he’s currently working on a postgraduate degree in physics. ‘Creation science’ physics, I might mention, which differs considerably from that taught at secular schools. He was in ROTC, and ranked near the top of his class. He’s had weapons and demolition training. He’s due to enter the Army next year.”
“Good grief,” said Dellinger. “Is there any chance he’s armed?”
“That’s entirely possible, sir. His gear was shipped to Tierra del Fuego as cargo, and he carried it onto the boat to Antarctica himself. It was never X-rayed.”
“I presume your people at the site are aware of all this?” asked the President.
“We still have only one of our own men on site, sir, but yes, he is. We also consider the naval officer on site as an asset, and our man’s been keeping him informed. And we’ve also authorized our man to brief the leader of the research team, Dr. Harold Reynolds.”
“Are you sending more people down?” asked Vice President Mohr.
“Well, as I mentioned in my briefing, our chief cryptologist and linguist is leaving today. There’s currently a break in the weather, and if it holds, we’re going to try to fly her in tomorrow.”
“Mightn’t it be prudent to send additional personnel?” asked Mohr.
“I discussed that question with Dan Lightfoot just an hour ago. His feeling was that, between himself and the Navy commander, they can keep tabs on this Northrup character, and that sending in additional agents or troops could arouse suspicion on Northrup’s part. Also, there are logistical factors. The site’s accommodations are already filled to capacity, unless people start sleeping in work areas.”
“So,” said Dellinger, “it sounds as though we have a handle on any potential for sabotage. Let’s address the larger issue. If the team can use the computers and the library to learn enough about how the civilization and its technology worked, and if they believe that it might be possible to revive one or both of the creatures, should they be allowed to do so?” He looked around the room, waiting for a response.
“What pretext would we have for intervening?” asked Lindskog.
“There are any number of national security issues that could be raised that, in coordination with the Australian government, would allow us to step in and take control,” said Chapin. “Biological dangers, technological threats… I don’t think we’d have any real problem justifying intervention if that’s what we decided to do.”
“If the team can get the computers running, it’s possible we could learn a great deal about their society and technology even without reviving the creatures,” said Mohr. “What advantage would there be to waking them up? If I may, why not just let sleeping dinosaurs lie?” His comment caused smiles around the room.
“When you dangle the possible in front of a scientist, you can be certain that said scientist will want to explore it,” said Maxwell. “We’ve got some of the best minds in a variety of disciplines down there, along with intensive interest over the Internet. I can assure you that if it appears to be possible, and if we don’t intervene, the attempt will be made.”
“Roger, you asked what advantage there would be to reviving the creatures.
Arthur, you didn’t really answer the question.”
“Well, despite what can be learned in a library about a society, there’s really no substitute for actually talking to a member of that society. Assuming that they could be revived, and assuming that we could learn how to communicate with them, the amount we could learn might be considerably greater.”
“And what disadvantages might there be in doing so, aside from the possible dangers you’ve already discussed? Anyone?”
“Well as far as the philosophical objections that have been raised in religious circles, I’d say the damage has already been done,” said Lindskog. “Whether the creatures can be revived or not, the fact of their existence doesn’t change either way.”
“But if they can be revived, what do we do with them? Put them in a zoo somewhere?” asked Hall.
“That’s a very good question,” said Dellinger.
“Just off hand,” said Maxwell, “my guess would be that a habitat could be constructed, perhaps even with their help, where they could live comfortably, and be studied. Hell, they’d probably want to study us, as well. Remember, this was an advanced civilization, and if they stored away two of themselves to return later, it’s a pretty safe bet that they would have selected two of their best and brightest.”
“And what about the question of breeding?” asked Hall. “It’s also a pretty safe bet that that’s what they had in mind.”
The room became silent for a long moment, and then Dellinger spoke.
“We assume that their intent was repopulation, which brings us to perhaps the most important question: are we humans prepared to share the planet with another intelligent species?”
“We’re having a hard time already sharing it amongst ourselves,” observed Hall.
“True,” said Lindskog, “but think how much we might be able to learn from them. Their society managed to last millions of years, and might still be dominant if they hadn’t been wiped out by a freak of nature. What if they could teach us to manage the planet more wisely, maybe even learn to get along?”
“You know,” said Dellinger, “in many ways the questions we face are the same that we would if these were indeed aliens from another planet, as we previously thought might be the case. Some of you might be amused to know that this is a subject on which I was briefed shortly after I took office. The NSA and the military have developed contingency plans for such an event, and I’d say that those plans apply in this case.
“To summarize, the plan is to determine the intent of our visitors, and if they prove to be friendly, to invite them in, so to speak. My feeling is that that’s the best way to proceed in this situation.” He looked around the room for reactions.
“I agree,” said Lindskog. The others followed in their assent, either verbally or with nods.
“Fine,” said Dellinger. “Then we agree to take precautions, but to allow the project to proceed. After all, as Arthur pointed out, the chances of actually having to deal with these creatures are probably pretty slim in any event.”
“If I might add one final though
t, Mr. President,” said Maxwell. “I referred to ‘Noah’s Ark’ earlier as an analogy for the pyramid. It’s struck me that, if you wanted to repopulate a planet, I’d think you’d want to use more than just two individuals to do so. Not only for reasons of efficiency, but for genetic variety.”
“But there are only two of these sarcophaguses in the pyramid,” said Dellinger.
“Yes sir. In the upper pyramid. Let’s not forget that underneath it is a larger pyramid with several times the volume, and we presently have no idea what it might contain. I think we should be prepared for the possibility that there could be more than just two of these… sarcophaguses,” he said, repeating the President’s incorrect pluralization of the word.
Dellinger stared at Maxwell for a moment before replying. “Thank you, Arthur.”
•
“Hal, can you spare a minute?” asked Lightfoot. He was accompanied by Fred Taylor.
“Sure,” Reynolds replied, giving them a quizzical look.
“Step into my office,” said Lightfoot, indicating the photo lab.
Once the three men were inside, Lightfoot turned on the warning light outside the door to prevent any interruption.
“It appears that our friend Eugene Northrup may be something more than just a graduate student in physics,” he began. “He’s also had ROTC training, including weapons and demolition.” Reynolds raised his eyebrows.
“Since he showed up, we’ve been seeing encrypted satellite telephone calls from here to the offices of Billy Joe Wilder, the television preacher.”
“Have your people been able to decode the calls?” Reynolds asked.
“Nope. It’s the latest PGP encryption. Essentially unbreakable. These days, it’s off-the-shelf stuff.”
“So what’s your take on this guy?”
“Well, back home, a lot of fundamentalist religious types are awfully upset about what we’re doing down here. They think we’re uncovering the work of the Devil, and they’re screaming at the top of their lungs that we be stopped and the whole site closed and buried. Preferably with all of us inside.”
“That’s a cheerful thought,” said Reynolds.
“We don’t know for certain, but there’s a possibility he could be armed. He could be here to try to sabotage the project.”
“So why don’t we simply ship his ass out of here?” Reynolds asked.
“Well, so far this is just speculation. As I said, we don’t know for sure whether he’s armed, or what his intentions are. Plus, as I understand it, a fair amount of money was put up for him to be here.”
“Yeah, that’s true. So what do you suggest we do?”
“We think the first thing we should do is search his room,” said Taylor. “Let’s see if he does pose any kind of threat.”
“What if he’s hidden weapons somewhere else?” asked Reynolds. “It’d be a cinch to bury something in the ice where nobody’d find it.”
“I thought about that,” said Lightfoot. “Unfortunately, he could carry enough high explosives inside his parka to do some real damage. I think we all need to keep an eye on him. We should also watch out for anything suspicious-looking inside the Penthouse once he gains access.”
“Why not just keep him out?” asked Reynolds.
“On what grounds?” Lightfoot replied. “We’re going to need all hands for the survey and cataloging, and it’d look awfully odd if we told him he wasn’t needed.
“The other thing we can do is make a copy of the encryption software in his satellite phone. That’d let us listen in on his conversations with the good reverend.”
“You can do that?” Reynolds asked.
“Piece of cake,” said Lightfoot. “They teach us that kind of stuff in spy school. The first time he goes downtown, I’ll slip into his room, give it a search and clone the phone.”
“Great. I’ll make sure he’s on one of the first teams to go down.”
“It also occurred to us that he might have ideas about our fail-safe system in the shaft. I carry the detonator box with me, but he could either have one of his own or be able to jury-rig something, so I’m going to install a hidden switch between the terminals and the charges.”
“That sounds prudent,” said Reynolds.
“Hey, those are my firecrackers. I don’t want anyone else playing with them.”
Reynolds smiled. “Hell, I don’t even want you playing with them.”
Chapter 21
The Library
It had taken a full day to pump enough fresh air into the Penthouse to make it safe to enter without respirators. Then, under Stephanie Mitchell’s direction, seven teams of students spent the next four days meticulously photographing and cataloging the contents of the six rooms surrounding the main chamber. Two of the teams concentrated on the library.
The crew still avoided walking or standing near each other, to avoid turning on the lights or anything else. The main chamber and each of the rooms had been lit with work lights on stands.
While the work was in progress, Florence Hummford arrived and, working behind the students, began organizing the tablets that had fallen from the shelves. In doing so, she was able to make the first real progress toward decoding the written language, as she found that the tablets that were still on the shelves were arranged in an orderly fashion. The tablets were in what appeared to be alphabetic order, since the topmost character of the writing on their spines would match over a large number of tablets.
She had no way of knowing where the alphabet started or ended on the shelves, nor which direction it ran, but she was at least able to put the letters in order. The arrangement also seemed to confirm that the writing did indeed read from top to bottom.
Having the alphabet in order allowed her to return the tablets that had fallen on the floor to their original locations on the shelves. By the end of her first full day at the site, the library survey had been completed, and the tablets were all neatly shelved.
Town Hall had now been soaking up energy for nearly two weeks, and the entrance hallway walls appeared to be at full brightness. It was now time to try to turn on the lights in the library, hoping that this wouldn’t turn on the lights throughout the Penthouse.
Dressed in their bio suits, and with their test equipment inside the library, Dan Lightfoot and Arnold Greissman would act as the guinea pigs. Hal Reynolds would wait out in the main chamber to watch for any signs that anything other than lights were activated. Both airlock doors were sealed, and the rest of the crew was cleared to the surface.
“Ready when you are,” said Lightfoot.
“Let’s do it,” said Greissman, taking a step towards Lightfoot. Almost immediately, the ceiling reacted, going from dark to a warm glow in less than three seconds.
“What’s happening outside?” asked Lightfoot.
“Nothing. I guess each room does have its own switch,” Reynolds replied. “Let’s get the sandbags stacked in there so you guys can run your tests.”
Within a few minutes the six sandbags were stacked in front of one of the computer stations, and the ceiling came back on. Reynolds kept his eyes on the screen area and keyboard, but could see no change.
Ten minutes later, both Lightfoot and Greissman had detected no change in the atmosphere, and the three men removed their helmets.
“Steph?” Reynolds called over the intercom. “You and your people can come on in.”
“We’ll be right down,” came her reply.
Reynolds and Lightfoot turned off the work lights and waited for them to cool enough to be moved safely. As Greissman packed his equipment, Reynolds strolled around the library, feeling somewhat awed by the room and its contents. The spectrum of the light from the ceiling in the Outhouse had proven to be almost an exact match for daylight, and was continuous, in that there was no subliminal flicker as was the case with incandescent and some fluorescent lights. It created the strange feeling of being outdoors while knowing that you were indoors.
He moved down the shelves, looking
at the now neatly-ordered tablets, wondering what they would contain. The cataloging had revealed that there were more than 20,000 of them.
“Hal? You still in here?” Lightfoot called.
“Over here, Dan.”
“We can move the lights now.”
“Be right there.”
As soon as they could get the lights repositioned on the outside walls, he planned to change out of his bio suit and come back down to observe. This was where the secrets of Steph’s “Sapiosaurs” would be unlocked, and he didn’t want to miss any of it.
Outside, as Reynolds, Lightfoot and Greissman were approaching the corner of the Penthouse, Mitchell, Hummford, Ruggiero, Hanrahan and Phil Schumacher, the second MIT student, came barreling around the corner on their way to the library. Both groups fairly skidded to a stop.
“Whoa, what’s the rush?” asked Reynolds.
“Step aside, buddy, we got scientific stuff to do in there,” replied Mitchell with a grin.
“I’ll be back down in a few minutes,” Reynolds said. “Don’t uncover any major secrets without me, OK?”
“Oh, alright,” said Mitchell, in mock dejection. The groups went their opposite directions.
Once inside the library, Mitchell turned to Ruggiero and Hanrahan. “OK, guys, you’re the computer whizzes. Let’s see if we can get this baby booted up.” She turned to Schumacher. “Phil, would you set up the video cameras? I want one on an overview and the other tight on the display.”
“Sure,” said Schumacher. He started extending the legs of the tripods he’d carried in.
Hanrahan and Ruggiero walked over to the station in front of which the sandbags had been stacked. It was as inert as all the others. Mitchell and Hummford moved close to watch.
“What do you think?” asked Ruggiero.
“I’m thinking Windows Ultima,” said Hanrahan. Ruggiero elbowed him in the ribs. “Come on,” she said, “this was an advanced civilization. No way they’d use Windoze,” she said, emphasizing the “doze” end of the word.
Sapiosaurus | Out Of Time Page 19