“Now that we all know each other a little better,” Echohawk said, “Let’s take a look at what we’re expected to accomplish, as part of the Ship Survey Expedition.” Echohawk pulled out a handheld remote and a display screen rolled down from the ceiling. The thin flexible fabric of the screen instantly powered up and began the presentation that the World Ship Summit and the Oversight Commission had prepared. They worked through it within an hour; covering their mission statement, objectives and rules of safety and conduct expected of the members of the SSE while they were on duty. The presentation was dull, despite the efforts Echohawk made to bring life to lifeless material. Finally, it was done with; the SSE members were visibly relieved to be through the presentation, some even fidgeting in their seats.
“Well, that’s over with,” Echohawk said, “You will of course all be expected to give the same presentation to your departments, now that staffing is completed. We’ll be making our first foray to the Ship the day after tomorrow. That will give you tomorrow to break in your respective crews. Concluding our official business today, we have a special treat. If everyone would accompany me, please,”
Echohawk led them from the room, out into the air of Fort Arapaho. The military base was a hive of activity as soldiers scrambled about, preparing the last installations necessary to protect the Ship Survey Expedition and defend the Ship. From what invaders, Echohawk did not know. A barracks building was being assembled from prefabricated sections. The barracks would be six storeys high when complete and the Army Corps of Engineers were hard at work. Echohawk led the Ship Survey Expedition through the bustle to the base’s airstrip, where a large helicopter sat waiting. Green and gold, resting on large rocker arms it reminded Echohawk of an insect, especially with the large double blister windscreen in the front. Echohawk, James, Peter, Aiziz, Andrews, Scott, Kodo and Cole climbed into the back of the helicopter, which had two wide benches facing each other, sandwiched between two large observation windows.
The airstrip was located near the ridge of rock that dropped off some seven kilometres to the Ship below. From here the Ship was visible below and around them. The Shipsong was distinct, heard not over the noise of activity around them but accompanying it; it was all-pervasive and all-inclusive, turning even the most random sounds into part of its eerie alien symphony. As the helicopter dusted off, half a world away the World Ship Summit was announcing the makeup of the Ship Survey Expedition. As they flew out over the Ship, two billion people logged on to INN, in what would be the world’s largest ever recorded number of simultaneous unique hits to a single Grid spar.
♦♦♦
The Ship was spread out beneath them in all its magnificence. Even at the altitude the helicopter had climbed to, it stretched in all directions, radiating brilliance as the sun reflected from its eastern surfaces, the western end of the Ship blanketed in a crescent shadow lit only by glowing blue energy conduits that danced across its surface. While his ex-wife would forever remember an airbase in Houston, Texas as the moment the Ship changed her life, Echohawk would forever remember the image of the Pyramid as it reflected the sunlight into a brilliant spear right back into the sky. For a moment he thought he saw the outlines of massive portals just below the ring on which the secondary pyramids circumvented the Ship’s dome. But it was only an illusion created by the natural curves of the hull of the Ship. They crossed the Pyramid heading northwest, until they came upon the Zuni mountain range. The mountains ended abruptly in a razor-sharp cliff curved along the edge of the Ship’s dish, dropping straight down along a sheer and flawlessly smooth slice through the stone and soul of the mountains. The helicopter banked around from the wall of stone and dropped down nearer to the surface of the Ship. Echohawk leaned to look out the window at the topography of the Ship, as it rushed away beneath them.
“Can we get this door open? Would we decompress or something?”
“At this speed the door stays shut from inertia,” The Co-Pilot said, “We’d have to land to open it. I’m only authorized to land this bird where I picked her up, but we’ll do it on other flights. Keep the door open, I mean. Climb on the next one, if you like. One extra ride won’t make much difference; we got all manner of people flying today: members of Congress, foreign dignitaries...the press…shit; we’ll be flying all day.”
“I might just take you up on that offer,” Echohawk said.
“We’ll be coming up on the falls, soon,” Peter interjected. And they were. The helicopter had rounded away from the Zuni Mountains and followed the rising dome of the Ship back to the south. The Ship’s upper hull looked like a small mountain itself; rising gradually from the outer edge of the Ship’s disk, curving up and up again, lording over the plain of its dish and encircled by a wall of earth and stone.
To their left were the walls of Ship’s Canyon, as it had become known. Perfectly smooth, the drop ranged from ten kilometres at its highest to four at its lowest, from the surface of the Earth to the Ship below. A small rain cloud had gathered itself around the Salado Falls, as they were now called. Seven kilometres above, the Rio Salado had been cleaved apart during the Unearthing. Now the river ended abruptly in a huge cascade, spraying down over the Ship. White water and the constant rain of spray struck the Ship; a cloud of mist bathed the canyon beneath the falls, glowing eerily with the reflected light from the Ship’s systems. Authorities were concerned that the river would run itself dry and talks about the engineering necessary to divert the river before it was too late were under way.
The pilots kept the helicopter a respectful distance from the clouds and the waterfall, but they lingered; as all were transfixed by the site of a colossal waterfall that had only existed for a matter of days. Soon they were on their way back to the landing strip at Fort Arapaho, the Ship even more real to each of them than it had been before. Despite having found the Pyramid, despite having seen the Ship from the Ramp or the edge of Ship’s Canyon countless times, only now did they truly feel its presence. Only now did they understand the magnitude of the Ship’s significance. The gravity and significance of the task ahead left them sober with fear and humility.
SIX
OATHS OF OFFICE
It was a miserably cold and rainy day. A massive storm cell had stalled over the Ottawa valley and showed no signs of dissipating. Cold, hard rain came down, dampening and chilling the air to unseasonable lows. It was almost black out as the newly sworn-in Canadian Minister of Defence left his Ottawa residence for the Hill, the short trip to the waiting car left him shivering. The waters of the Rideau Canal that afternoon were choppy and black, the streets slick and the skies promising more to come. The Peace Tower seemed forbidding to the Minister as they drove toward the Hill along Sussex Drive. The American Embassy flashed into view, an eyesore: a steel and glass construct designed to be attention-getting, completely and deliberately out of place with its historic surroundings. The Minister was reminded yet again of the difference between Canadians and Americans. It didn’t surprise him in the least that their political attitude was that they should stand out even in another country’s capital. Then it was gone, the US embassy passing out of view and they were turning onto Wellington Avenue, up to Parliament. The Minister looked out at Parliament Hill as they crossed the gates onto the grounds of the Nation’s Capital. Then his car was plunging into the new underground parking garage; a misnomer because it hadn’t really been “new” since it had been built some twenty years before. His assistants were already waiting for him as he stepped from the elevator from the garage into the Parliament Buildings on his way to his offices. His new offices, as Minister of Defence.
“We’re still trying to get the offices organized,” Diane, his assistant said, “But we’re going to need another full 48 hours. So far, we’ve managed to flag the more important files; here’s a list of everything that needs your immediate attention, your direct attention and your constant attention.”
She handed the Minister a handheld display, its screen alive with filenames. “Seco
ndary and tertiary concerns are going to the Deputy Minister and to the rest of the staff. You have a Cabinet meeting at seven, Cabinet meet-the-press at nine, a meeting with the heads of the Armed Forces at nine thirty, Parliament and then a meeting with the Solicitor General and the heads of the RCMP, CSIS and the NIS about the Montreal situation at three-thirty.”
“When do I get time to be brought up to speed, personally?” the Minister asked. Diane consulted her data pad.
“Sometime over the Christmas Break,” She said, “In the meantime you’ll have to play catch up. Don’t worry. I have everything under control and we’ll spoon-feed you until we can get you sat down long enough to get up to full speed. We’re even covering anticipated questions from the Opposition during Question Period.”
“I couldn’t do it without you, Diane.”
“I know.”
Later he was sitting behind his desk, the doors to his office closed and Diane on guard at her desk in the outer office. It wasn’t yet seven and the Minister had already been at work for over an hour. The rain outside was hitting the window with a cold, cruel rattle, making it impossible to see out. The windows were misted and the water ran in slick rivulets down the windowpanes. The wind whipped up, assailing the building with more rain. It was cold out and damp. His offices, lit by a desk lamp and windows with curtains thrown wide, were dismal and dark, made all the more oppressive by the Gothic architecture and the weather. The Minister contemplated how much nicer this place would look when the sun was out on a nice, crisp October afternoon. A gust whipped a screaming spray against the windows again and made him wonder how he was going to make it through such a day. He turned his attention back to the two consoles on his desk. One was blank, while the other displayed a summary that he was supposed to be studying. The Minister decided that he needed tea; it was too damn early in the day to be trying to filter through this many documents without a good, strong cup of tea. He reached for the other console, meaning to contact Diane when it chimed, apparently of its own volition. Diane appeared onscreen, her earpiece discreetly hidden under her hair.
“Minister, you have a linx from the British Embassy,” Her voice said over speakers hidden on the desk.
The Minister arched an eyebrow and shrugged, slipping on his own earpiece, forwarding the second console’s audio to the unit.
“Put it through in here,” He said. Diane nodded and vanished from the screen a moment later. The screen remained blank for a few more seconds before the image of the British Ambassador to Canada appeared onscreen in a short cascade of pixels. The Minister himself didn’t immediately recognize the man, but identifier software was part of the communications parcel on his console. The ware was able to name him, displaying that text along with other pertinent data at the bottom of the screen.
“Mister Ambassador,” The Minister said, “Good morning. I must say, I didn’t expect to hear from your offices. Let alone from you, sir.”
“Good morning, Minister,” the Ambassador said, “No, I don’t suppose you would have expected a linx from me. However, neither protocol nor security concerns would permit me to see you in person.”
“Security concerns?” The Ambassador shook his head in an apologetic, self effacing gesture.
“I’m sorry, Minister. This won’t be much of a welcome to the job,” He said, “And usually you would be afforded more time to settle into your position as Defence Minister before I contacted you. However, given the nature of the ongoing situation in the Protectorates to the south, time is of the essence. I had to contact you as soon as possible.”
“Regarding what, may I ask?”
“Regarding a package that you will receive late this evening. The package will arrive from the British Embassy, by a special secure carrier. It will be a document pouch, the contents of which you are required to read only when you are alone and only from a secure workstation.”
The Minister was annoyed by the sudden cloak and dagger nonsense. “And the topic of these secure documents?”
“That is something I will be unable to discuss with you, Minister, until such time as you have read the contents of the document pouch and contacted me on channel QU137. It’s a secure channel and the linx will be routed to me no matter where I am.”
“This all seems absurdly dramatic.”
“This is a very serious matter, Minister,” the Ambassador said, gravely, “And you’ll better understand and appreciate that when the carrier arrives, tonight. We’ll speak then and I’ll answer any questions you have.” The image of the British Ambassador to Canada froze and depixillated, leaving the Minister both dumbfounded and annoyed. He toggled the intercom.
“Diane, would you be so kind as to bring me the largest goddamned pot of tea you can find? I have the feeling I’m going to need it.”
♦♦♦
Echohawk strolled into the briefing room, sipping from a coffee mug so large it was nearly a thermos. He relished the bittersweet coffee’s heat and energizing caffeine as it pumped from his mouth to his senses through an expanding warmth in his belly.
“Good morning everyone,” He said, “Well, we’ve all had a chance to see the Ship from the air and now our skills as an expedition team will be put to the test: Today, we will be allowed down to the Pyramid and with luck, we might actually get a look inside.” He thumbed a button on the remote. The thin fabric screen lit up with a view of the Pyramid as seen from the Ramp, the land bridge that the Ship had allowed to remain between it and the outside world. The image had depth of field and proportion creating the illusion that the screen was a window overlooking an actual scene, instead of a 3D liquid crystal display. The view slowly tracked in as the Ship Survey Expedition watched.
“This footage was taken two hours ago, by a remote-controlled drone using a Cannon Magic Mirror,” Echohawk explained, “It rolled to within ten meters of the Pyramid at the top of the Ship and recorded these images. Take a close look: it’s about to zoom in on the base of the Pyramid facing the ramp.” The image onscreen changed again as the telephoto lens on the drone switched focus to pull in close to the pyramid. They could all clearly see that there was a depressed archway in the Pyramid’s surface some five meters high and just as wide. The back of the archway was sealed, but all indications seemed to point to this being a hatch.
“The Army’s recorded similar archways on all the other exposed pyramids along the Ship’s dome,” Echohawk explained.
“I expect we’re looking at the main doors into the Ship,” Andrews said.
“I would argue that you’re right,” Scott replied, “But we could just as easily be seeing thruster ports.”
“I agree,” Andrews replied, “However, thruster ports don’t usually have control panels put to either side.”
“What?” Scott and Aiziz asked together. Andrews took up a laser pointer from his position at the horseshoe-shaped table.
“Here and here,” He said, pointing the laser beam to either side of the image of the arch onscreen, “Professor Echohawk, can we get a zoom in on those locations?” Echohawk consulted the remote he was holding. A moment later, the image did zoom in to one side of the arch. There was a long, recessed panel beside it. The panel was filled with what appeared to be a number of rectangular tiles, all of which had some device inscribed upon them.
“Can we get a better view of those tiles?” Aiziz asked with urgency, “Can we see the inscriptions on them?”
“Unfortunately no,” Echohawk said, “This is already an enhancement of the original image. We’ll have to wait until we get out to the Pyramid, itself.” Aiziz stared long and hard at the indistinct image before her.
“Well, then, what are we waiting for?”
They rode over from Fort Arapaho to the Pyramid in a small convoy of all-terrain transports. The long, multi-wheeled vehicles drove out in a row; the SSE heads and their small entourage of assistants in the first two vehicles, an Emergency Medical Response unit directly behind them; a communications wagon behind that and finally, two
cargo haulers that carried all the equipment they would need for their forays into the Ship. Echohawk, Scott and Andrews sat together in a knot of conversation.
“I argue that the arched depression is a door,” Scott explained, “Because on a vessel this size, you’d probably have a network of antenna and sensor arrays across the entire hull. Same thing with weapons, assuming it had any, and because of the sheer size of the thing, manoeuvring and propulsion would have to be spread over the whole surface of the Ship, especially if it was able to make planetfall.”
“Are we sure it landed?” Andrews asked.
“It couldn’t have crashed,” Scott replied, “It wouldn’t have stayed together this well and there’d be some evidence of a crash trail, or a much larger impact crater in the local geography. No, the Ship dropped right out of the sky and nestled itself into the ground.” Having been married to a fighter jock, Echohawk knew a little about physics and a little about aerospace engineering. His engineering studies at university had been one of the factors involved in his introduction to Margaret Bloom in the time of history that Echohawk had begun referring to as What Couldn’t Have Been That Long Ago.
The Unearthing Page 11