Chapter 6

First Touch

The jackhammers shut down, and Hal Reynolds waited until the crew shoveled the last of the ice away from the wall. He was standing on the dark gray concrete surface of the "Town," as they’d come to call it, within a few feet of the main structure. Nine weeks had elapsed since the press conference in Berkeley.

The shaft from the ice surface more than 500 feet above measured approximately eight feet in diameter. A conveyor belt-type lift had been installed that could raise or lower people and equipment, and that carried excavated ice to the surface in buckets. Electrical cables and ventilation, water and exhaust pipes for the gas-powered compressors ran alongside the lift.

At the shaft’s base an area roughly 20 feet square had been opened up to a height of eight feet, much of which was already filled with equipment around three walls. Behind the North wall was "Town Hall" – the main structure.

When the shaft had reached the town level after three weeks of drilling, there had been quite a discussion about who should be the first person lowered on a sling. Dan Lightfoot, who’d only recently arrived, argued that since they had no idea what to expect, he should make the descent wearing protective clothing and a respirator, and armed with the detection equipment he’d brought with him. This would give him the chance to make sure there was nothing toxic at the lower surface.

Reynolds, however, was adamant about making the initial descent himself. His rebuttal to Lightfoot’s concern was that none of the samples brought up to date had shown anything hazardous at the surface. At most, they’d found layers of soil, ash and organic matter – moss, ferns and the like – sandwiched between the ice and the concrete.

In the end, Reynolds won out, or so he thought. In reality, Lightfoot decided that Reynolds’ arguments made sense, and opted not to press the issue. Reynolds did agree to take down one of Lightfoot’s devices, a hand-held "gas sniffer," as Lightfoot described it. In reality, it was called a "MultiPhasic Analyzer," or MPA, and it could sample the air, read radiation levels and detect various types of energy including radio and microwaves, with all data recorded internally on a mini optical disk. Privately, Lightfoot called it his "Tricorder," after the devices on "Star Trek."

Reynolds’ trip to the Town’s surface – they now called it "going downtown" – had been uneventful, and Lightfoot’s MPA found nothing more than Antarctic air and water vapor, along with traces of gasoline fumes from the generators and compressors up above. No radiation, no signals, no sign of any kind of electrical activity.

As the work space was opened up by a combination of drilling and melting the ice, the layer directly above the concrete surface turned from clean white ice into layers of dirt and ash averaging around three feet thick, as seen in the core samples, with various types of detritus embedded in it. There were moss, leaves and bits of ferns and other plants, but they also found the well preserved if somewhat flattened carcass of a small mammal, apparently a rodent, frozen at the ice/dirt boundary.

During the process of exposing the concrete surface, Stephanie Mitchell had supervised the survey of the organic matter, much as she would have at any archeological dig. Now the surface was clear and mostly clean and dry. The air piped down from the surface was not being heated, in order to prevent body heat and that given off by lights and machines from melting the ice around them.

As the drillers finished clearing the large ice chunks, Reynolds, Bob Sinclair and Lightfoot moved in with picks and trowels. Reynolds had told the jackhammer operators to stop short of the outer wall to guard against damage. While it was likely made of the same material they were walking on, and therefore very hard stuff, he wasn’t taking any chances.

The three men began to chip and shovel away at the dirt and ice covering the wall just above the surface. After a few minutes’ work, the last bits of dirt in one area fell away, revealing a small spot of the wall. A few minutes later, they had cleared several square feet of the wall, to a height of about two feet, and Reynolds signaled a stop.

Under the work lights, the wall appeared to be made of the same concrete type material as the surface on which they stood. Brushing clear the base of the wall, Reynolds examined the point where it met the floor. It appeared seamless, as if it had all been poured at the same time as a single piece. When Reynolds tapped the wall with the flat side of his pick, it gave off the same dull "tink" sound as had the samples.

"Well, it looks and sounds the same," said Reynolds. "Let’s find out for sure."

Sinclair nodded, and crossed the cavern to a stack of equipment cases. He returned with a case about the size of a small suitcase. Opening it, he extracted a device about one foot long and eight inches square with handles at one end.

"Spectrometer?" asked Lightfoot, disingenuously. He knew precisely what it was.

"Yep," Reynolds replied.

Sinclair flipped up the lid of what appeared to be a standard laptop computer that remained in the case, revealing a keyboard and display screen. He handed Reynolds a cable, which Reynolds connected to the spectrometer.

"This’ll zap the surface with a laser and vaporize just enough of it to get a reading on its composition," Reynolds explained. Lightfoot passed on the chance to tell Reynolds that he not only knew how it worked, but had used much smaller and more sophisticated units than this relatively clunky example.

As Sinclair booted the computer and turned on the power supply in the case, Reynolds positioned the spectrometer, holding it against the surface of the wall. "Say when," he told Sinclair. "Gimme a second," Sinclair replied. He waited until the program finished launching, and then set the parameters for the analysis. "Okay, go."

Reynolds pushed a button on the spectrometer, and there was a muffled pop as the laser fired. Less then a minute later the data appeared on the laptop’s screen.

"It’s the same stuff," said Sinclair.

"No surprise," Reynolds replied. "Okay, let’s start clearing a larger area, working in that direction."

Reynolds was indicating his right as he faced the wall. Their echo soundings had shown what appeared to be rough bands running up the three faces of the bottom portion of Town Hall. Reynolds was hoping the bands indicated stairways, which might in turn indicate an entrance.

The jackhammers went back to work, again stopping short of the wall so that the final few inches could be uncovered by hand. Reynolds left the latter task to three of the grad students, and he, Sinclair and Lightfoot returned to the ice surface – "uptown."

The top of the shaft was no longer open to the elements. A large prefab shed had been brought in and erected to allow work to continue without regard to the weather, which was getting progressively nasty as Antarctica moved into Fall. At one end of the shed were offices and lab facilities, and at the other end were living quarters. While the main open area of the shed was not heated, the offices, labs and quarters were, and the three men removed their parkas as they entered the main office. Stephanie Mitchell was sitting at a computer, and looked up as they entered.

"Well?" she inquired.

"Same material," Reynolds answered, "just as we expected."

"Any organics on the wall’s surface?" she asked.

"No, it was clean from the ice level up, which doesn’t surprise me," said Reynolds. "The angle’s sharp enough that not much could stick to the surface, especially since it must have been scoured by snow as the ice was building up."

The lower part of Town Hall that made up the first level rose at just less than a 45 degree angle until it reached a height of about 60 feet. A flat area roughly 30 feet wide surrounded the second truncated pyramid that sat on top of the lower one. The second pyramid itself rose at the same angle, but to a height of another 35 feet, making Town Hall overall about 95 feet in height.

With his hunch that the rough bands might be stairways, Reynolds had toyed with the idea of sinking the shaft to one of the flat areas surrounding the upper pyramid, guessing that these would be the most likely spots for entrances. Doing so would save them 60 feet of drilling.

In the end, he decided to start at the base, since he was only guessing about the presence of stairs.

"They’re clearing East of where we first uncovered the wall, and should get to the midpoint where the ‘stairs’ are in a couple of hours."

"I think I’ll head down to watch for a while," said Mitchell. She finished the line she’d been typing, saved her work, and got her parka from the rack by the door. As she pulled it on, the phone connected to the cavern rang, and she answered it.

She listened for a moment, and then said, "Okay, I’ll tell him," and hung up the receiver.

"That was Rank," she said to Reynolds. "He’d like you guys back down there. He says they’ve found something you’ll want to see."

"Let’s go," said Reynolds.

When the four team members got to the bottom of the shaft, Reynolds was surprised at how much progress had been made in such a short time. The exposed section of the wall was now perhaps ten feet wide and three to four feet high, with one section a few feet wide cleared to about six feet up, which was about as high as the crew could clear without bringing in something to stand on. Matthews came across the cavern to meet him.

"We’ve been working across and then up, and it’s this section over here that you wanna look at," he said, leading Reynolds and the others to the highest-cleared section at the left of the exposed area, near where they had started.

As they reached the wall, Matthews turned on a flashlight to supplement the worklights in the cavern. He played the light over the surface of the wall, and it was immediately apparent why he had called them down.

"Wow!" said Reynolds.

"No shit!" replied Sinclair.

There, starting roughly four feet up the wall from the floor, was a horizontal band of markings about two feet high. Rather than being carved into the surface as with Egyptian hieroglyphs, however, these markings stood out from the surface, in relief. While Reynolds was no expert at languages or hieroglyphs, he’d taken courses that had surveyed the subjects, and though these were unlike anything he could remember having seen, he was certain that this was writing.

"Stephanie, you’ve probably had more exposure to ancient writing and symbols than the rest of us. What do you make of it?"

She took the light from Matthews and ran it along the exposed section of markings.

"I’ve never seen anything like these before, but I don’t think there’s any doubt that it’s writing of some sort. Ornamentation tends to have symmetries, and there’s no symmetry here. Also, look at the pattern – the symbols run in columns, the way Chinese would be written."

She pulled off her glove and was about to touch the markings when Matthews stopped her. "You don’t want to do that," he said. "It cold enough that your skin will stick to it.

"Here, try this," he offered. He fished a surgical glove out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"I found out the hard way," he said with a grin.

As Mitchell examined the markings, Lightfoot turned to Reynolds. "Mind if I take some pictures?" he asked.

Reynolds was a bit surprised, but could see no reason why not. "Sure, go ahead," he replied. He was even more surprised when Lightfoot immediately pulled a camera from his pocket and proceeded to snap a half dozen pictures of the markings. Sensing that Reynolds hadn’t expected this, he offered an explanation.

"Cameras are standard issue. There’re times we need to document spills and other hazards before evidence can be removed or covered up."

Reynolds nodded. This seemed reasonable. In any event, photographs of the markings would be all over the Internet within days, if not hours, and Lightfoot’s having the first shots would make no difference.

"Can I get copies?" he asked.

"No problem," said Lightfoot. "I’ll transfer them onto a DVD-ROM for you."

It was only then that Reynolds noticed that Lightfoot’s camera was a Canon digital model. While the results would look fine when viewed on a computer screen, they’d fall far short of the resolution obtained with standard film cameras. Of course, Reynolds had no way of knowing that Lightfoot’s camera wasn’t the same type you’d buy at the local photo shop, its imaging and storage systems having been replaced with the finest technology the NSA had at its disposal. The resolution and detail on the images Lightfoot had taken would virtually match those shot on film.

Over the next three hours, the crew exposed the surface of the wall from one end of the cavern to the other. As they reached the far right end, Reynolds and Sinclair stood close by, and when the grad students uncovered what could be nothing other than steps up the side of the pyramid base, Reynolds was elated. He’d been right after all.

He also realized that this meant a tremendous amount of work lay ahead, since with the approach he’d chosen they’d need to tunnel up the side of the pyramid to reach the next level. His alternative would be to sink another shaft from the ice surface about 60 feet north of the existing shaft, and bypass the stairs altogether. Doing so, however, would raise the possibility of missing something on the way up the stairs. Reynolds was assuming that any entrances to Town Hall would be at the upper level, but it was only that – an assumption.

The hour was late, so Reynolds told the crew to knock off for dinner. Afterwards, he assembled the entire team in the main office.

"We need to decide how we’re going to tackle Town Hall. As I see it, we have two choices: we can dig our way up the stairway, or sink another shaft and come down directly at the second level."

He explained his thoughts on the pluses and minuses of the two approaches, and the team debated for a half hour before the consensus swung to going up the stairway from the current cavern.

"The thing is," Rank Matthews interjected, "if we’re going up the stairway, I’m going to need some additional equipment and people. The guys are getting worn out just digging horizontally. Going up is gonna kill them."

Reynolds had anticipated Matthews’ concern. "Yeah, we’re gonna need more resources to pull this off. Both equipment and personnel."

"We’re already over budget," Sinclair offered helpfully.

"I think it’s time to shift gears here in a major way," Reynolds replied. "Arcon’s already said thanks but no thanks on any additional funding, and Cal doesn’t have a whole lot of spare cash floating around to toss at Geology. I’ll talk to Royce Clayton and see if he has any ideas for some additional funding."

The meeting broke up, and Reynolds waited until everyone had left before placing his call to Clayton. The two men spoke at least every couple of days so Clayton could stay on top of the situation.

Reynolds brought his superior up to speed on the day’s progress before shifting to the topic of locating funding not only to maintain but expand the effort.

"Hal, given the magnitude of what you’re uncovering, I’m pretty sure I can scare up some money to do the job right. This is a major find, and I’ll be amazed if there aren’t at least a dozen other universities that would love to be in on this. Give me a few days, but don’t worry about it."

"Great, Royce. I’d also like to keep Rank Matthews and his three guys here. Could you see if Arcon would be willing to put them on leave of absence so they can stick with the project? I’ve already talked with Rank, and he and his people would like to see this through."

"I’ll check with Greg Hurlburt at Arcon, but if they balk, I’d say let’s just hire them away if we have to."

"Good. Royce, the press guys here know we found something big, and they wanna know what it is. If it’s OK with you, I’d like to let them go downtown and see for themselves."

"I suppose word’s going to leak out soon enough anyway," Clayton replied. "We might as well make sure the facts are revealed, rather than wild speculation. It’s fine with me."

"Great. I’d hold a press conference, but it’d be kinda silly with only two reporters and a cameraman."

The two men said goodbye, and Reynolds got ready for bed. With the activity of the day, he hadn’t had time to reflect on their findings.

As he lay in bed, he tried to imagine who and what the beings who had built the city were. He was leaning increasingly toward the theory they had been aliens, who came to Earth tens of millions of years ago, while dinosaurs still existed, built an outpost, and then departed. Or had they? Maybe their bodies were entombed inside the pyramids.

What did they look like? Was it they who killed off the dinosaurs? And if they did, was it by accident, perhaps through biological contamination, or was it on purpose, through hunting for sport or for meat?

As a scientist, he’d had a passing interest in the possibility of extraterrestrial life, but as a geologist, he’d never expected that he’d be the one to find evidence that it existed.

As he drifted to sleep, his mind filled with depictions of aliens from films and books. He imagined the city as it must have appeared while they walked its streets, and saw them climbing the stairway of Town Hall. He imagined himself following them up the stairs, and coming face-to-face with them at the top. And as his thoughts turned into dreams, he raised his hand, and said "Hello." And the aliens raised their arms, and...

•

Upon returning to his room, Lightfoot downloaded his pictures into his computer and transmitted them via secure satellite link to Florence Hummford. When the transmission was complete, he placed a voice call to her, again using his satellite phone.

"Hi, Flo, it’s me. Did they arrive intact?"

"I’m looking at them now."

"What’s your first impression?"

"This doesn’t match any human style of writing that I’ve ever encountered, and I’ve seen just about everything that’s been found. I’ll run a computer check, but I doubt we’ll find anything that matches. What’s the scale here?"

"Sorry, but I didn’t have a ruler with me – these were pretty impromptu. The band is about two feet high, so the average height of each symbol is right around two inches."

"The nearest thing I can think of is Sumerian. If you look at image number three, notice that the strokes have a wedge shape to them, but where Sumerian cuneiform characters are essentially straight, these symbols include curved shapes."

"Yeah, I thought of Sumerian writing when I saw them, too. What about the vertical orientation?"

"That matches early Sumerian, but the cuneiform shapes and the vertical orientation are almost certainly simply coincidental. This is definitely not Sumerian.

"How much of this is there?" she asked.

"These photos were from the first area uncovered. So far they’ve cleared a little more than 20 feet, and the band continues the full length of what’s been exposed. I’d be willing to bet that the markings run around the entire structure."

"When can I get a larger sampling? I want to get the computer working on an analysis."

"The team photographer’s working behind the crew, taking extensive photos. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll have them on DVD-ROM by tomorrow. The low-res versions will be posted on their web site by tomorrow afternoon our time."

"That’s enough to give me a start," said Hummford, "but I’ll need the hi-res versions as soon as possible."

"I’m sure I can find a way to borrow a copy of the disk and send them to you."

"I’ll be waiting by the screen."

"OK. Talk to you then, Flo."

"Bye, Dan."

Lightfoot then placed a call to Gordon Winston. He briefed him on the day’s findings, ending with the fact that Berkeley was going to try to obtain additional funding.

"Actually, they’ve decided to open the project to other schools. Reynolds and Clayton discussed it while you were talking with Flo."

Lightfoot knew that the NSA had been monitoring all communications from the site. "Any change in our position?"

"What do you think, Dan? You’re down there. You’ve seen the thing close up. Do you think it’s an alien artifact?"

"At this point I’d have to say yes," Lightfoot replied. "The sediment layer under the ice contained enough organic material to positively date it to at least 50 million years or so, which doesn’t leave room for any other explanation. And the writing we’ve discovered just doesn’t... I don’t know, it doesn’t feel human."

"Yes, I saw your photos," said Winston. He paused for a moment.

"Alright. We think this is an alien construction. But your scans detected no traces of radiation or electrical activity, and the site’s been buried for millions of years, so we can probably assume that it’s completely dormant. Even plutonium would have decayed to harmless slag in that amount of time. I think for now we can maintain the status quo. We have people ready to move on a moment’s notice if necessary, but for now I think we’ll keep a low profile and let the academic community continue."

"Sounds fine to me," said Lightfoot. "What about the general public? Do we try to keep this under wraps?"

"Dan, there are too many people down there, and too many ways for them to get word out to try to keep this a secret at this point. Conspiracy buffs may love to think that the government has been hiding evidence of alien contact for decades, but we both know that that’s nonsense.

"This is potentially the most exciting discovery in human history. I don’t think we could cover it up even if we had reason to want to."

"I thought that’s what you’d say, Gordon, but I’m pleased to hear it nonetheless."

"At the same time, Dan, there’s also the possibility that this could be the most dangerous discovery in human history. It’s possible – if not probable – that we’re dealing with an alien technology here. If so, their technology is without any doubt far more advanced than our own."

"I’d say that’s a fair assumption," Lightfoot agreed.

"Dan, I want to be optimistic about this discovery, but it’s my responsibility to take into account the possible threat to national security. Hell, for that matter, world security. A technology we don’t understand by its very nature brings the chance that there are hazards involved that we can’t even imagine. And it’s not just the potential for technological dangers that has me concerned. There’s the real possibility of biological danger. This thing appears to have been built at right around the same time the dinosaurs went extinct, and as we’ve discussed previously, this could be more than a coincidence."

"So what are you leading up to, Gordon?" Lightfoot asked, although he had a queasy feeling he already knew.

"Now that we know the structures are definitely artificial, I want us to be prepared for every contingency." He paused, as if for dramatic effect. "I’m sending you a package."

"That’s what I figured," Lightfoot replied.

"It’ll be contained in a spectrum analyzer which, by the way, is fully functional. It’s tactical, very clean, with a yield of 50 kilotons. Contact George Quincy by secure line once you receive it, and he’ll brief you on getting at the controls."

"Right."

"We managed to delay the next supply ship leaving from Tierra del Fuego, and it sails tomorrow, so you’ll have it in about four days. Also on board will be a fellow named Dr. Arnold Greissman from the CDC. He’s bringing in the gear you’ll need for a complete Level 3 containment when it comes time to open the structure. He’s been briefed, and he knows who you are and for whom you work."

"Good," replied Lightfoot. "I’ve felt a little lonely down here, surrounded by academics. They’ve been polite, but I’ve still felt like the odd man out."

"Before this is over I expect your population at the site will close to double. You’ll soon have lots of company."

"It’s gonna get cramped down here. It’ll be several months before any new construction will be possible. In case you hadn’t noticed, Winter’s coming on soon."

"I’ve noticed, and frankly it gives me the heebie-jeebies that we have to wait for breaks in the weather to be able to land aircraft there for the next six months. If you end up having to evacuate, it could be quite a struggle getting everyone to McMurdo in bad weather."

"Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. "

There was a pause as both men contemplated the reason for and difficulty of an evacuation.

"Alright, I can’t think of anything else at the moment. Keep me posted," said Winston, signing off.

"Will do."

Lightfoot finished up by resampling the high resolution images to the lower resolution a standard camera would provide and copied them onto a DVD-ROM for Reynolds. No point in tipping his hand technologically at this point, he thought.