by Joshi, S. T
To the left was a semicircle of instrument banks that reminded the director of pictures he had seen of the operations room of the national cosmodrome in Kazakhstan. Technicians sat or stood behind dozens of flickering monitors while others moved too and fro from one station to the next. In addition to Russian he heard snatches of speech in several other languages, some of which were a distinct surprise. On the other side of the chamber opposite the rank of instruments was … well, it was difficult to tell exactly what it was.
At first glance he thought it was an incomplete, unfinished black sphere some two stories high. Looking closer he saw that its apparent depth was an optical illusion, albeit an extremely effective one. What at first glance appearance to be a globe on closer inspection revealed itself to be more of a hemisphere. The outer rim was uneven and fuzzy. He rubbed his eyes. Every time he looked at the thing it appeared to change shape ever so slightly. The more solid base it rested on, or rather disappeared into, was a twisted mass of distorted gray metal. Or maybe it was ceramic in nature, he decided, or perhaps glass. Not being a materials scientist he couldn’t tell, especially from a distance. Regardless of what it was made of, the interlocking, fused shapes that comprised the base were as enigmatic as abstract art, their overall appearance oddly unsettling.
He did not dwell on the singular object because, fascinating as it was, it paled in comparison to the shapeless gray-green mass that dominated the center of the room. The massive uneven lump would have filled a good-sized aircraft hangar all by itself. It was featureless save for numerous dark blotches that streaked the sides. Emerging from terminals in the floor, a feathering of wires ran into and over the quiescent mass. Additionally, the entire hill-sized mound was enclosed in what at first glance appeared to be a glistening fish net, but which on closer inspection revealed itself to be made of braided wire.
So intent was a captivated Koslov on the greenish hill and the vision-distorting construct at the far end of the huge chamber that he twice tripped over cables that snaked across the floor. When he and his escort finally halted by the nearest node of linked electronic consoles, Yefrem proceeded to introduce him to a stolid, handsome woman in her early fifties.
“Comrade Koslov, this is Dr. Marian Schumenko. Doctor, Comrade Koslov is director of safety and security for the …”
“I know who he is.” A narrowing stare so intense it seemed capable of igniting newsprint swept perfunctorily over Koslov before turning back to the console before her. Ignoring the two men, either of whom had the power to order her immediate arrest or detention, she exchanged words first with the younger man seated at the console to her right before moving on to look over the shoulder of another seated at her left. Moments passed. As if abruptly recalling the terse introduction she spoke without looking back. Her mind, Koslov could tell, was wholly focused elsewhere.
“Tell him not to touch anything.” She was plainly speaking to Yefrem. “And to stay out of the way. That includes you as well, Comrade Colonel.”
The expression on the KGB officer’s face tensed but he said nothing. His reaction was all that was necessary to tell Koslov who was really in charge here.
He looked around as lights flashed and beeping alarms began to sound. Activity, already high, intensified throughout the chamber. Men and women who had been working in immediate proximity to the hemispherical object and the looming green-gray mass moved rapidly away from both. The scientist’s slight already forgotten, Yefrem leaned close to his guest and whispered.
“While the regulation test of the above-ground facility has already commenced, I can tell you that the experiment that is about to take place here is infinitely more important.”
“What are you testing for?” Workers and techs continued to clear the floor. Throughout the open chamber yellow flashing lights fastened to floor, walls, and ceiling turned to red.
“To tell you the truth, no one is really certain. But I can say that this is not the first time the great mass you see before you has been tested. A similar assessment was attempted once before, three years ago, although on a much lesser scale.”
“An assessment? Of what—that?” Koslov indicated the greenish-gray hill. “What is it, anyway? It looks like a pile of coagulated industrial sludge.”
Yefrem smiled, but this time humorlessly. “We are convinced it is organic.”
Koslov gaped anew at the shapeless mass. “What, that? Even a dead blue whale is not so big.”
The colonel nodded. “Hence the need for proper assessment. We still do not know exactly what it is. Every attempt at straightforward dissection has failed. The epidermis, if that’s what it is, appears soft, yet it cannot be cut. Not by blade, not by saw, not even with an industrial laser. Steel and ceramic break against it while a laser simply warms the area on which it is trained.”
“Then how do you know it is organic?”
“A small section was raised, lifted and placed in a portable MRI scanner. The resultant imaging made no sense. What was observed appeared scrambled and disorganized, with no recognizable cellular structure.” He nodded at the shadowy hillock before them. “Much as it all appears to be. One theory holds that it is a mélange of many far smaller creatures forced together by heat and pressure. Another—and I know this sounds extreme, but I only pass on what I have been told—is that it is something of extraterrestrial origin that survived a fall through our atmosphere. The impenetrability of its exterior would allow for such a descent. We have recovered small bits of possible organic material from meteorites. Why not something much larger?”
Koslov tried to make sense of the whirl of new information. “And what of the peculiar construction at the far side of the chamber?”
“Ah. That is an entirely different problem. Though inorganic, it is likewise composed of unknown materials. In addition it possesses some interesting optical properties that our physicists continue to study.”
“Let me guess.” Koslov had not risen to his present position through a paucity of imagination. “Both of these enigmas were found together, or at least in close proximity to each other.”
Yefrem nodded. Somewhere a siren wailed for attention. “Not simply together, but linked. By a braided cable of unique alloy. That, at least, our people have been able to analyze. Though far from perfected, the results of that research have gone a long way toward enhancing the reliability of such things as the interior lining of our biggest rocket engines.”
Gazing at the drab greenish mass, Koslov asked the obvious question. “Why would two such diverse anomalies be tied together?”
The colonel shrugged. “Until we can divine the nature and possible purpose of each, none can say.”
“I take it then that the previous assessment you mentioned did nothing to resolve such questions?”
“Not only did it not resolve them,” Yefrem replied, “as is the case with many experiments it only raised new questions.” He nodded toward the center of the chamber. “When the first overtly invasive attempts did not succeed in providing an entry into the mass, someone thought to try a high-powered electric arc cutter. This was duly acquired from the Energimass people and applied to the volume’s exterior. Though it remained inviolate, a tiny section was seen to jump in response to the application of localized current. Subsequent attempts at other sites around the lump’s perimeter produced identical responses. More importantly, with each use of the arc cutter the edges of the hemispherical object appeared to give off a brief pulse of dark light.”
“Dark light?” Koslov made a face.
“That is how it was described to me. I was not present to witness it personally. I am told that photographic images taken at the time fail to replicate the phenomenon correctly.” He turned to face the Director. “Even that, however, is not the most interesting or intriguing result of the initial experiment, which took place on the twenty-first of July three years ago.”
Searching his memory for some happening of significance on the referenced date, Koslov came up empty. Yefrem elabora
ted.
“This impenetrable mass and its attendant inscrutable object were originally discovered and subsequently extracted from where they had been found buried deep within the Antarctic ice. They were then transported here via ship and in great secrecy—through the Black Sea, then up the Dnieper and into this facility via the tunnel that was constructed between here and the river.” His voice fell to a murmur.
“On the same day as that first experiment three years ago, at the same time as a glow was detected from the hemispherical object, the lowest temperature ever recorded on the surface of this planet was observed. Minus eighty-nine point two centigrade … at our Vostok Station in Antarctica, not far from where these peculiar discoveries were found.”
A disbelieving Koslov drew back slightly. “You’re not implying, Comrade Colonel, that there might be some sort of connection between the two?”
Yefrem shrugged. “It is not my job to speculate on such things. I am merely sharing the same information that was passed to me. What happened on that day may be no more than coincidence. Make of it what you will.”
Though the colonel seemed as though he might have had more to say, and Koslov certainly had additional questions, their conversation was interrupted by the sounding of a warning klaxon loud enough to drown out casual conversation. After a final check of one last connection the sole technician remaining on the chamber floor hurried to his assigned station. Koslov did his best to mimic Yefrem’s intensity as the colonel stared at the somber mass whose motionless bulk all but filled the expansive chamber. Nearby, Dr. Schumenko was muttering a stream of commands to the man seated before her.
The lights in the chamber dimmed. A final verbal warning was given over loudspeakers. There was a pause, then final directives were broadcast. Switches were thrown, connections made. A loud crackling sound filled the air as a tremendous jolt of electricity was passed through the cables that ran into the central mass and simultaneously electrified the net that was draped over it. Koslov felt the remaining fine strands of hair on his head twitch and his skin tingle. For certain there would be no shortage of current to deliver to the mass of presumed organic material. Not with the plant itself directly overhead.
Additional commands were given. The power was shut down. Had the edges of the hemispherical shape brightened, as they supposedly had three years ago? From his vantage point at the opposite end of the chamber Koslov could not tell.
It was quiet in the chamber, the only noise coming from the overhead air circulation equipment. Then people began to talk, to discuss, to debate. Otherwise nothing had changed. The steely Dr. Schumenko’s attitude remained resolved as she continued her terse conversation with colleagues. Unaware of how tense he had grown, Koslov jumped slightly as Yefrem’s hand came down on his shoulder.
“Quite a show, was it not?”
“Most … most interesting.” Koslov swallowed. “What happens now?”
“Now? Now we go back to work. With the exception that you are now privy to this place and to what goes on down here. If there are any actual results, I will see that any such information is passed along to you in a suitably safe format. Come, I will accompany you back to your office.” He smiled. “Now I will have that tea.”
Leaving behind the consoles and their busy, attendant scientists and technicians, they started back toward the main doorway. As they did so Koslov observed that a pair of technicians had gathered around one place at the near periphery of the greenish mass. They were soon joined by a third man, and then several more. Halting, he pointed.
“What’s going on over there?”
Yefrem glanced in the indicated direction, shrugged. “A burned area, perhaps. Even if penetration was accomplished it is not for us to linger and wait for the analysis. If anything of interest has been found it will be duly recorded and passed along.” He resumed walking.
Koslov hesitated. There seemed to be some agitation among the cluster of technicians. A moment later he heard the scream. It was the first of several.
Audible only to those in the immediate vicinity, the yelling did not immediately alert the bulk of the scientific staff. Koslov, however, was close enough to see the curve at the base of the mass from which the half dozen technicians fled. They had not been studying a burn mark, as Yefrem had casually suggested. They had been examining one of the many dark streaks that scored the hillock’s flank. As the director’s mouth opened wide he saw that it was something more than a dark mark.
It was an eyelid. The technicians were fleeing from an open eye.
The revealed iris was a fiery red-orange, the pupil comparatively small and black as ink. Frozen in place, unable to move from where he was standing, Koslov saw another similar dark space higher up twitch, flutter, and open. A second eye appeared. Then a third, then two more, until the eruption of ferociously hued oculars rose like a passing wave across the flanks and top of the great mass. The chamber was filled with screams now. Scientists were rising from behind their consoles to point excitedly while lesser techs were scrambling at their instrumentation.
Magnified by the enclosed space, a great groaning sound echoed throughout the chamber, a metallic creaking as of a great weight being shifted. As the stunned Koslov stared, the huge compendium of organic material shifted slightly. No, he told himself. It was not a compendium. What he now beheld was a single organism flecked with ever-increasing numbers of multiple eyes whose inhuman glare was intense enough to shrivel one’s soul. The sight was awe-inspiring, overwhelming, humbling. Terrifying.
Then the first mouth appeared, no rhyme or reason to its location, and extended itself pseudopod-like to inhale a staring technician who was standing too close.
That should have drawn, should have held, every bit of Koslov’s attention. Instead he found himself being violently shaken. With one powerful hand Yefrem was gripping the director’s left shoulder. With the other he was pointing. Not at the rippling, heaving, increasingly animated pulpish atrocity before them, but to its right. To the far end of the chamber.
The hemispherical relic was spinning so fast that the motion was barely detectable. Purple light danced from its fringes, shards of lightning spitting off in all directions. As he gawked at the geometrically obtuse base that now pulsed with an unvarying ominous glow, Koslov found that he suddenly understood the meaning of dark light.
It was neither the refulgent base nor the spinning hemisphere that had drawn the colonel’s attention, however, but what was becoming visible within. It was a depth, a core, a penetration into Somewhere Else. And at the back of that unimaginable deepness something was moving. Something so vast and frightful as to make the creature that was now heaving within the frail electrical net that struggled to contain it appear as no more than an ant would to a human.
Staring at that which should not be looked upon, Koslov tried to scream and found he could not. His mouth, his vocal cords, his thoughts, were as paralyzed with fear as was the rest of his body.
Feeling himself stumbling, he turned in shock to see Yefrem peering hard at him. The colonel’s expression was set, his gaze determined. In his other hand he held the pistol which Koslov knew had occupied the concealed vest holster all along. Of the two formidable escorts who had previously accompanied them there was no sign. They had fled. But not the colonel.
“Get out, Koslov! Run! Maybe you can do something!”
“Do … ?” The stunned director fumbled for words, his attention locked on the hideously animated mass of protoplasm that shuddered in the middle of the chamber. With every moment it was growing more and more active. As he stared, additional tentacular mouths emerged from the heaving mass to snatch up another screaming technician, then another, and then Dr. Schumenko herself. She was not so proud that she failed to scream like a girl as she was sucked down and disappeared into the weaving, tooth-lined tube of flesh.
“Try!” Yefrem gestured sharply. “You see what’s in there? Do you see what’s lurking? That construction—it’s a portal of some kind. A gate, an openi
ng … I don’t know. I’m no scientist. But I know what I see. We’ve opened it somehow. We’ve opened our world to somewhere else, somewhere horrific, and it has to be shut! Before things worse than this can come through!” With his free hand he shoved Koslov so hard that the director stumbled. With his other he was already firing at the surging mass behind them.
“Do whatever you can, Koslov! Do whatever you have to do!”
His mind awhirl, his nerves screaming, the colonel’s last words echoing in his head, Koslov fled. As he ran for the doorway he was passed by the two guards who had originally granted them entry. Courageous men, they were firing at the now moaning, gibbering mass of seemingly indestructible organism as fast as they could unload the magazines of their weapons. Their bullets, like their bravery, had no effect on it.
Then he was out in the corridor. Resolutely ignoring the screams and confusion that surged around him, he forced his way to the lift that had brought him down to what was now a warren of horror. Espying the closed door, he experienced an awful moment when he feared that the lift had been rendered inoperative. When it opened at his touch he felt a surge of relief. Only the visible buttons were necessary to activate the lift and send it rising upward. This had the added benefit of shutting out the screaming below. Wedded to their assignments, none of the bevy of confused technicians had joined him. When the full overwhelming horror of the situation below ground reached them he had no doubt there would be mass panic to reach the restricted lift, any lift, or the tunnel that led to the river, or to access any other means of transportation that might enable the staff of the secret facility to flee.
The comparative silence above ground when he emerged from the lift was shocking in its normality. Plant personnel strolled calmly about the manicured grounds. A flock of cranes from the nearby lake soared overhead. A trio of workers carrying food from the cafeteria eyed him in confusion as he ran past them, breathing hard. Ignoring calls and greetings, he rushed to reach the site of the above ground test. A check of his watch showed that it was already well underway.