He got his shoulders through the entrance, and pushed forward. "There's a metal framework here. With, uh—Hell, Tri, I don't know what to make of this." He carried a camera on his left forearm. "Maggie, are you there?" he asked through the commlink. "Can you see this?"
"Maggie's coming," said Andi, who was watch officer.
He struggled to get closer.
"What do you have, George?" It was Maggie. He knew she'd be straining to see the object on the big screen.
"Don't know." He was in now, and stood over the device. Metal bars and plates were connected to a system of springs and pulleys. Everything was heavily corroded.
"Shine the lamp to your left," Maggie said. "Look, there's a tray." There were small objects that looked like stones in the tray. "See if they're loose," she said.
He took one out, dabbed at it carefully, and held it close to the camera. There was a dark smudge on it.
Maggie was silent for several moments. Then her voice went very soft. "Goddammit, George, I think you've found us a printing press!"
"Well, good," said George.
"Yes." Her voice was ecstatic, and he heard her clap. "Show me the frame."
He did.
"Closer," she urged. And then: "It's got some sort of typesetting arrangement. It's filled with type."
"What language?" said Andi. "Can you tell?"
"Not yet. But we might be able to restore enough of it." He listened to her breathe. "It might be the jackpot."
"How do you mean?"
"Place like this would need multilingual prayer-cards. Or whatever. If there's a Rosetta stone here, this could be //. George, haul it out."
Henry was napping in the community room when his commlink chimed. He came immediately awake. Henry lived these days in constant fear of disaster. He knew he was violating safety procedures, risking his people, risking his career. Not good, but he knew that history was watching him. It was not a time for caution. "What is it, Andi?"
"Kosmik on the line. You want to listen? Or take the call?"
"I'm busy," he said. "You do the talking. If necessary, tell them you'll check with me and get back. And, Andi?"
"Yes?"
"Don't give them any trouble. Okay?" He shook the last of the sleep out of his brain, got up, and walked wearily downstairs to Operations.
Henry loved Quraqua. He loved its quiet mountain ranges, and its long wandering rivers; its vast silences and its abandoned cities. The ancient walls and towers rose out of deep forests, bordered great plains, embraced harbors. Many of the more recent ruins remained in good condition: one could not stroll through them without anticipating that the dusty fountains would one day flow again, the lights come on, and the avenues fill with traffic. Quraqua was a place, in Richard Wald's memorable phrase, "on the shore of time."
He had been here sixteen years, had married two of his wives here, one of them atop the Golden Stair at Eskiya. He had gone back to Earth only when necessary, to fight with the Second Floor about funding, or to take on those who wanted to rearrange his priorities. He was a blue-collar archeologist, an excavator, a detail man, tough, competent, good to work for. Not brilliant, in the way that Richard was brilliant. But solid. Methodical. If one could say that Richard Wald was curious about the inscription at Oz, it was equally arguable that Henry was driven by it. And not because of some deeper mystery behind the arcane symbols, but because he understood he was locked away from fundamental truth, essential to understanding this thing he loved so much.
Andi was waiting for him. As he arrived, she pressed Transmit. "This is the Temple. Go ahead, Kosmik."
The monitor glowed, and Harvey Sill's image appeared. "Dr. Jacobi, please. Director Truscott wishes to speak with him."
"Dr. Jacobi is not available. Director Truscott may speak with me if she wants. I'll be happy to relay her message. Or if you prefer, I can have Dr. Jacobi return the call."
"Oh, for God's sake." Melanie Truscott replaced Sill. "We don't have time for bureaucratic nonsense, young lady." She paused, and lifted her eyes above Andi, as if she were searching the room. "Henry, I know you're there. Please talk to me. We have an emergency."
Henry sighed, and walked around in front of the screen. "Hello, Melanie," he said wearily. "What seems to be the problem?"
"We've had an accident."
Henry glanced sharply at Andi, a gesture delivered primarily for Truscott's benefit. "What happened? Do you need help?"
"No. But you might be in some danger."
"What do you mean?"
"We lost control of one of the snowballs. An orbiting piece of ice. It fell into the Yakata three minutes ago."
He smothered his anger. "Where?"
"Roughly sixteen hundred kilometers south of you. It impacted at seventy-two point five south, one-fifteen point two west."
Andi brought up a map of the region, and marked the location.
Truscott's eyes fastened on Henry. "A tsunami has formed," she said.
"Melanie, you are a bitch."
"I'm sorry you think so, Henry. But I hardly think that's the issue." She looked guilty. She tried to stare him down, but the fire had gone out of her eyes.
"How big is the wave?"
"We don't have a measurement yet."
"Please let me know when you do."
"I will. And, Henry—I'm sorry about this. If we can help—"
"Yes. Of course. Temple out." He broke the link. "We'll need to evacuate the Temple. How fast do tidal waves travel?"
Andi was already consulting the data banks:
TSUNAMI. (SEA WAVE, SEISMIC WAVE, TIDAL WAVE.) AN OCEAN WAVE RESULTING PROM AN UNDERSEA EARTHQUAKE, VOLCANIC ERUPTION, OR OTHER SUBMARINE DISTURBANCE. THE TSUNAMI MAY REACH OVERWHELMING DIMENSIONS, AND HAS BEEN KNOWN TO TRAVEL ENTIRELY AROUND THE EARTH. (Cf., THE ARGENTINEAN PLATE SLIPPAGE, 2011.) IT PROCEEDS AS AN ORDINARY GRAVITY WAVE. THE WATER FORMING TSUNAMIS TENDS TO BUNCH UP BEHIND THE WAVE WHILE IT IS TRAVELING THROUGH DEEP WATER. ON APPROACHING SHALLOW AREAS, VELOCITY DECREASES, BUT THE WAVE WILL INCREASE SHARPLY IN HEIGHT. LOW-LYING AREAS MAY BE ENGULFED. TSUNAMIS DO NOT RESULT IN ANY WAY FROM TIDAL ACTION. THE POPULAR TERM "TIDAL WAVE" IS A MISNOMER.
She scanned ahead.
VELOCITY OF THE WAVE EQUALS THE SQUARE ROOT OF GRAVITATIONAL ACCELERATION TIMES THE DEPTH OF THE WATER.
"Do we have the sea depths south of here?" Henry asked.
Andi shook her head. "I don't think they've been measured very exactly." Her fingers danced across the keyboard. "Best guess is that it will be traveling at five or six hundred kilometers per hour. But it's only a guess."
"Son of a bitch." She listened to Henry's harsh breathing.
Hutch was riding her cart, carrying six containers toward the sub bay when Henry broke in on the common channel. "We've got an emergency," he said softly.
She turned a comer and saw Eddie Juliana coming out of one of the storerooms. He was scribbling on a lightpad.
Henry outlined the situation briefly. Hutch thought it was probably a false alarm, a maneuver in a war of nerves. But Eddie was staring at her, eyes wide.
"We don't know yet how fast it's coming," Henry continued, "or where it is, or how big it is. But it could be here in a couple of hours. Everyone is to leave the Temple. Return immediately to Seapoint."
"My God," said Eddie, "we'll lose it all."
George broke in: "Henry, we're in the middle of something."
"Now, George. I want everybody back here within thirty minutes. Please acknowledge to Andi. Don't worry about securing equipment. Frank, what's the status on the sub?"
Carson was enraged. "It's loaded. We were just getting ready to head for the pier."
"Forget it. Is-Tommy with you?"
"Yes."
Eddie climbed onto the cart. "Get going," he said to Hutch.
"Tommy." Henry sounded calm. "Take the sub and head straight out to sea. Go as far as you can."