Like a cross-section on some architect's drawing, the river's erosion exposed the ravaged hull's interior. Thousands of sphere-shaped rooms packed the interior, making it resemble a slice of extraordinarily holey Swiss cheese. The canyon looked dark and misty, like the Amazon overgrown with an arcing canopy of huge silver trees.
"Angus, why didn't your map show all these rooms inside the Dense Mass?” Connell asked.
Angus shrugged. “The platinum compound is much denser than rock. The GPR couldn't penetrate it, especially near the bottom range."
Connell moved to stand next to Angus. “How much platinum do you think is in this thing?"
"I couldn't begin to calculate it,” Angus said as he peered up into the towering ship-canyon. “But it looks like the entire hull is platinum, and logically it's of the same composition as the dust we analyzed. It looks like the hull is very compartmentalized, probably to prevent depressurization in case of an accident — or perhaps in case of battle damage — which means it's not just the exterior hull that's thick platinum, but most or all of the interior walls as well. I'd take a rough guess that there's over two million tons of pure platinum here. That's hundreds of time more than all the platinum that's been mined in man's history. At current prices, that's fifty-four trillion dollars."
"Let's worry about mining history when we're topside,” Lybrand said. “I want to get on the move."
Randy stepped forward, thumbs hooked in his backpack straps. “We can't leave yet,” he said. “We have to look around. We have to look inside, see what we can learn."
Angus looked at Randy as if he were dumber than a dry dog turd. “Are you nuts? We need to get out of here. We can look all we want when we come back with some serious firepower."
"I don't think we'll be able to come back,” Randy said. “There's a new species down here. A very important species, I'd imagine. Wouldn't you say, Sanji?"
Sanji nodded. “Highly important, yes. And that is an understatement."
Randy continued. “An important species and this is their natural environment. These beings, these sentient beings, are hostile. If any humans come down here, they may have to harm the rocktopi."
"No fucking shit, Sherlock,” O'Doyle said. He looked very pale, but his eyes still shone with determination. “We'll harm them all right. See what happens when I come down here with a trained platoon and the proper equipment."
"That's not what I mean,” Randy said. “People won't let us harm them. Sanji, what's the scientific community going to say when we tell them what's going on down here?"
Sanji was silent for a moment, as was everyone else. The reality of the situation suddenly began to sink in. Sanji spoke, his voice calm and patient. “They will not let anybody come down here — not for a long time. Especially because the rocktopi are hostile. People will study this place for years before anyone comes down here, and then it will be some anthropologist who will try to communicate with them. This is proof that we are not alone in the universe, the most important discovery in the history of man."
"Horseshit,” Angus said. “We own the place, we'll do with it as we please."
"It will not matter,” Sanji said. “There is nothing in the history of science that compares to this. All the top scientists in a dozen different fields will implore the president himself to stop development of this area, and he will do just that."
"The scientists won't be the only ones stopping us,” Randy said. “So will the military. The army will have people here on the double, and they'll gather as much knowledge as they can while the government stalls the scientific community. And that's if we have a chance to get the news out. If we don't, this place will wind up being little more than a myth, like Roswell."
Angus seemed unwilling to accept the logic. “The government can't say boo if we tell the truth. If we let a few of the right people know about the place and what's really down here, the government can't get away with a cover-up. This is just too big. This is the information age, don't forget, and communication is a wee bit more advanced than the days of Roswell. We can protect ourselves and still keep it quiet from the bleeding-heart scientists. I've got a fucking profit-sharing clause in my contract, and I'm not about to give up a piece of fifty-four trillion!"
"We'd have to go public,” O'Doyle said quietly. “We'd have to have all our faces on national news and tell the whole thing."
"Why in the hell would we do that?” Angus asked. “Then we won't be able to mine. People won't stand for it."
"Because if we don't go public we're dead,” O'Doyle said. “Randy's correct. The military would do anything to have total control over this place. Anything, including killing all of us."
"That's an exaggeration,” Angus said. “Do you expect me to believe that the government goes around killing American citizens to keep secrets, you paranoid bastard?"
O'Doyle's voice sounded dark, ominous. “I know that's exactly what they do. I've done it myself."
The river's roar was the only sound as everyone stared at O'Doyle. Connell knew what the man had done for a living, but it was different to hear it from the horse's mouth.
"So it may be now or never,” Randy said, breaking the short silence. “We have to take a look inside, learn all we can right now, because we may never get another chance."
"We may not get a chance to do anything if the rocktopi come in here!” Lybrand said. “Don't you people get it? We're fighting for survival, not a paycheck, not the cover of Scientific American! We need to get out now and evaluate this after we're safely up top. They may not come in here right now, but this is their holy ground. Sooner or later they're coming in to get us!"
Connell thought on her words. She was right. No matter what the religious taboo, they couldn't bank their safety on the rocktopi's unpredictable behavior. And what did they know about that religion, anyway? As far as they knew, the rocktopi had a mandatory five-hour waiting period before carving up defilers. He was about to tell everyone to move out when a distant shout interrupted him. It was Veronica, yelling from some fifty yards away, by the cavern's towering wall.
"Come over here!” she called. “You have to see this. I've figured the bastards out!"
Connell wanted to kick himself for letting her slip away from the group. He hadn't even noticed her walk off — he'd been too preoccupied staring at the impossible ship. What the hell was she thinking? How could she wander away from the group at a desperate time like this?
"She's slipping,” O'Doyle said quietly, as if he'd read Connell's mind. “You'd better bring her back and keep close tabs on her, Mr. Kirkland. I've got a bad feeling she's slipping quick."
Connell cupped his hands to his mouth. “Get back here, Veronica! Get back here now!"
"It's their whole story,” Veronica yelled back, her voice faint as it filtered toward them over the river's roar. “Come on.” She disappeared into what appeared to be an alcove.
"I'll get her,” Connell said. “I'll drag her back if I have to, we need to move."
"I… I need a break,” O'Doyle said. “My leg is bleeding a little."
Connell looked at O'Doyle's thigh. Spots of blood showed in the KoolSuit material. He'd forgotten just how bad O'Doyle had been cut. The big man sat heavily — he was too tired to stand.
"Twenty minutes,” Lybrand said. Her voice sounded low and cold. “Twenty minute break. Then we're going."
"I'm going in that ship,” Randy said.