"What is that?" he asked in a whisper.
"That, Dr. Crane, is the Marble. It's what everything else here-everything else-works in support of."
"Is that what is doing the digging?"
"No. A double-shielded tunnel-boring machine, depth modified, does that. The Marble's current job is to follow the boring machine, shoring up the fresh sections of shaft with steel bands. Later-when the shaft is complete-the Marble's job will shift to exploration and, ah, recovery."
"Is it autonomous?"
"No. There is no way all its functions can be automated. It has revolving crews of three."
"Crews? I don't see any hatch."
Admiral Spartan gave a dry bark that might have been a laugh. "At the depths we are working, Doctor, there can be no 'hatch.' Because of the pressure, the Marble must be perfectly round-it can't depart from the spherical in any way."
"So how do you get the crew in and out?"
"Once the crew is inside, the skin of the Marble is welded shut, then the weld is polished to a mirror finish."
Crane whistled.
"Yes. That's why each shift is twenty-four hours: entry and exit is so time-consuming. Luckily, as you can see, we have two backups, so while one is at work another can be prepped and resupplied. That way, work can continue around the clock."
They lapsed into silence. Crane found himself unable to take his eyes from the brilliantly shining sphere. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Even so, it was hard to imagine three people crammed into such a tight space. He noticed a nearby viewscreen, showing a grainy image of the technicians hovering around the Marble: apparently, it was a video feed from inside the Marble itself.
"I gather you're not convinced it's Atlantis we're after," Spartan said drily. "But what we're after is not your concern. The medical situation, on the other hand, is very much your concern. You're not just answering to Asher anymore-you're answering to me. It goes without saying that you are to discuss none of what you see here with anyone in the unclassified section. Your movements here will be monitored and you will need escorts to the more sensitive locations-at least at first. We'll of course provide the tools or instruments you require. You've done classified work before, so you know the privilege-and responsibility-it entails. Abuse that privilege, and the next set of lights you're hauled before won't be for taking your photograph."
At this, Crane at last pulled his eyes from the Marble and glanced at Spartan. The admiral wasn't smiling.
"What has happened, exactly?" Crane asked.
Spartan swept his hand across the wall of glass, down toward the hanger deck below. "Until now, the Drilling Complex has been unaffected by whatever is making our people sick. But over the last twelve hours, three people in the complex have fallen ill."
"What are the symptoms?"
"You can ask them yourself. There's an emergency medical station on deck four. We've activated it, and you can use that as a temporary infirmary. I'll have the workers report to you there."
"Why wasn't I told about these new cases?" Crane asked.
"You are being told about them. The workers are high security and, as such, aren't permitted access to the unclassified levels."
"I could use Dr. Bishop's help."
"She has limited access beyond the portal, on an emergency-only basis and accompanied by marines. We'll deal with that situation if and when it becomes of critical importance. Now, if I may continue. In addition to the cases I mentioned, I have noticed others in the Complex who are becoming…psychologically affected."
"Does Corbett know?"
"No, and he's not going to. Corbett is, shall we say, porous. Any expertise he can offer should be filtered through you." Spartan glanced at his watch. "I'll have a detail take you back to your quarters. Get some sleep. I want you back at nine hundred hours tomorrow, and I want you fresh."
Crane nodded slowly. "So that's it. You've given me access because the rot's setting in here, too."
Spartan's eyes narrowed. "You have a new job now, Doctor. It's not enough just to learn what's making people sick. You have to keep them healthy." And he gestured again toward the Marble and the technicians that surrounded it. "Because everything, and everyone, in this Facility is dispensable-except the drilling. That must continue at all costs. This work is of vital importance, and I will not allow anything or anyone to slow us down. I'll drive the Marble myself if I have to. Do I make myself clear?"
For a moment, the two men stared at each other. Then Crane gave a small nod.
"Crystal clear, sir," he said.
24
Crane lay back wearily in his bed. It was almost three in the morning, and the Facility was quiet. He could just make out the slippery, seductive sounds of a jazz clarinet filtering through the shared bathroom: Roger Corbett was a fan of Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw.
The day had been filled with more surprise and wonder than any other he could remember. And yet he was so weary that the moment he closed his eyes he felt sleep steal toward him. But he could not sleep, not quite yet. There was one thing he had to do first.
He reached toward the desk and retrieved a manila folder. Opening it, he pulled out a short document: the eyewitness account Asher had mentioned of the actual sea-burial event. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he glanced at the top page. It was a large photograph of a sheet of illuminated manuscript: tiny blackletter script offset by colorful-if disquieting-border illustrations and a lavish initial capital. The vellum was badly worn along two horizontal lines where the sheet had apparently been folded, and its edges were darkened with handling and long years. The text was in Latin, but thankfully Asher's researcher had supplied an English translation, which was appended to the photograph. Crane turned to the translation and began to read.
It was in the year of our lord 1397 that I, Jón Albarn, fisherman of Staafhörn, was made witness.
I had broken my arm most grievously at that time and was unable to sail my boat or ply my nets. Being on a day gone out to walk the cliffs, I at once noticed the heavens grow full bright, albeit the sky was cloud obscured. There came to my ears the sound of strange singing, as if of a multitude of voices, which made the very empyrean tremble.
I tarried not, but ran back forthwith to acquaint all the people of this revelation. But many folk of the village had heard with their own ears and seen with their own eyes and were making their way to the shingle beach. It being a Sunday, all the men of the village were at home with their families. And it was in but short order that the village was empty and all had gathered by the waters.
The heavens grew yet brighter still. There was a heaviness in the air that was passing strange, and many amongst us remarked at how the hair on our flesh grew light and stood on end.
All at once there came many bolts of lightning and thunderclaps. Then the clouds over the ocean came asunder, casting off rainbows and boiling mists as they did fall back. A hole appeared in the heavens. And through that hole shewed a giant Eye, wreathed in white flame. Pillars of light shone down from it, straight as any column, and the seas upon which the holy light fell grew most strangely calm.
All the people of the village were passing glad, for the Eye was of a great and wondrous beauty, bright beyond measure and girdled with dancing rainbows. And they all did talk of how the
Almighty God had come to Staafhörn to favor us with His grace and benediction. The menfolk of the town began to speak amongst themselves of how we should sail out to the wondrous light, to praise the Lord and receive His blessing. One or two amongst us said, nay, the distance is too great across the sea. But the Eye was of such surpassing beauty, and the encircling fire of such purity and whiteness, that soon all had taken to the boats, eager to touch the divine light with their own hands and contrive that it should fall upon them. Only I was left behind: the boats were filled with all the town, men, women, and children, and with my arm sadly broken I could not sail myself. And so I made my way up to the cliffs in order to better behold this miracle.