“Give or take a few seconds.”
“So it surfaced almost half an hour ago in northwest Louisiana,” mused Runyan. “It’s passed through the core and is now headed up to a point in the East Crozet Basin in the southern Indian Ocean. And, after another quick pass through the core, it will soon be here.” He stared down at the brown dirt and scrubby grass beneath his feet, as if by concentrating he could peer into the depths of the Earth in reality as he could by imagination and thereby witness this rogue particle at work.
“You think you’re right, don’t you?” Gantt inquired.
“I’m afraid I am,” Runyan answered.
Gantt stared at Runyan and then removed his glasses and wiped sweat from his eyes. “Let me give you a tour,” he said and led his guests to the main tent where he explained the function of the arrayed instrumentation.
At fifteen minutes before two, Gantt had Runyan and Danielson stand aside while he made final preparations. Danielson glanced at her watch at two minutes after the hour just as Gantt turned to announce:
“Come and look—I’m getting a signal on the seismometers.” Runyan and Danielson approached and peered over his shoulder. All three seismometers were showing a definite increase in activity. Gantt turned to the computer, fingered the keyboard, and examined the screen.
“I’m getting a good reading on the distance, but I’m having some trouble determining exactly where it’s heading since, as predicted, it seems to be right beneath us.”
They turned their attention back to the seismometers, which were by now showing great activity.
“Look at this!” exclaimed Gantt. He pointed to the readings on the gravimeters. All were showing a definite and growing anomalous acceleration. Once more, Gantt swiveled in his seat toward the computer, but before he could key in his instructions, confusion erupted.
Runyan first saw the needle of the seismometer in the camp go off scale, slamming against its restraining pin. Before his mind could quite absorb the implication of that occurrence, his body recorded a rapid, bizarre set of feelings.
First, he had the definite sensation that the floor of the tent had accelerated upward suddenly like an express elevator. This feeling was terminated by a sideways impulse as if he had been hit with a sudden, strong gust of wind. Just as quickly, that sensation was replaced by a familiar fearsome tickle in stomach and gonads. Runyan was reminded of a roller coaster as it begins its first terrifying descent, leaving tender organs in the grasp of inertia. His ears registered a sucking whistle, rapidly diminishing in amplitude as if someone had turned on a vacuum cleaner just outside the tent and then whisked it rapidly away.
As these sensations passed, Runyan became aware of chaotic shouts beginning to echo around the camp and of Danielson half sprawled, grasping the back of Gantt’s chair. Danielson had taken a step toward Gantt and had been caught with one foot in the air when she was bumped sideways and knocked off balance. Runyan helped Danielson regain her feet. She collapsed against him, weak-kneed and pale with shock. Runyan held her shoulders gently.
The whistling noise returned, this time not quite so loud and at a higher pitch. Danielson stepped back from Runyan, her hands on his chest, her eyes searching his for explanation, confirmation. After a moment, Runyan looked toward the instrumentation. Danielson’s gaze followed his and they simultaneously swiveled to look at the seismometers. All the needles had fallen to rest, tracking a straight line down the center of the strip charts. In the same instant as the faint whistling stopped, the needles twitched and once more the one on the camp instrument slammed against its restraining pin. As they watched, the needles began to swing, first entirely across the chart and then with gradually diminishing amplitude.
The hoarse voices outside the tent died with the swing of the needles, and Runyan spoke first.
“Goddamn!” he said with measured stress. And then again, “Goddamn!”
As the reaction began to sink in, he felt his legs begin to shake. He moved uncertainly to the nearest chair and collapsed in it. He looked at Gantt, whose face was ashen, and at Danielson who, by contrast, was beginning to regain some color. Her eyes now showed the intensity of contained excitement. She suddenly had an idea, turned and rushed out of the tent. The two men sat in silence until one of Gantt’s assistants burst in.
“Dr. Gantt,” he shouted, “what’n hell was that?”
Gantt turned and looked at him for a long moment before replying, “I don’t know, an earthquake, I suppose.”
“Hell, that wasn’t like any earthquake I’ve ever been in,” replied the other, his voice barely quieter. “Two fellows just outside the tent got knocked on their butts. I was a hundred yards away and didn’t feel a thing. And that noise, I’ve never heard a quake make a noise like that!”
“It was somewhat irregular,” Gantt conceded. “Why don’t you check out the camp and the other sites to see if everything is all right. I’ll see what I can figure out from the data we collected.”
The man knew he was being put off, but could see nothing to do about it. He paused a moment until it was clear that Gantt had nothing further to say, then departed with an aggressive stride, nearly colliding with Danielson, who rushed in as he left.
She hurried across the tent floor and pulled up a chair to sit at right angles to Runyan. His arm was draped on the chair. Danielson grasped his hand in both of hers and gave it a strong, almost painful, squeeze.
Barely aware of Danielson beside him, squeezing his arm, Runyan was caught up in a maelstrom of fragmentary thoughts. He couldn’t grasp the details; they moved too fast, too lightly, wafted away like floating cottonwood seeds if he tried to grab at them. Somehow, though, he caught enough glimpses through the swirl. Us? Them? He couldn’t see who, but he knew the answer.
“You were right, Alex,” Danielson said in a tense hissing whisper. “I don’t see any sign of a tunnel outside the tent, but I know you were right. That force! It could only have been the gravity! It is a black hole!” As she said the last words she raised his hand in hers and banged it back down on the arm of the chair. Runyan winced slightly.
Danielson had been looking at his face without seeing. As the grimace passed briefly over Runyan’s features, she suddenly became cognizant of the black desolation reflected there. She stared at his impassive face as her own tenseness and excitement abated. She turned her head to look briefly at Gantt and read the same feeling of devastation on his face. Her mind spun with conflicting emotions as she released her grip on Runyan’s slack hand and slumped back in her chair.
My god, she thought, it’s like being torn apart, elation and terror at the same time. She recognized that she had been completely committed to this project, that she craved for her passion to be justified. The frightening encounter had been so real, so visceral, she felt—vindicated! But something in her mind cowered like a timid creature, beset by a raging beast. Her mind froze, resisting the full implications of what had transpired here. Where had it come from? What were they going to do? They had done what they had come to do. But were they better off, or worse?
She grabbed at a straw. Take a step, a small step. We’ve got to move on.
“Professor Gantt?” she inquired. “I’ve got to call Bob Isaacs.”
Chapter 14
The satellite, square-rigged with solar panels, sailed a smooth, circular, polar orbit every hour and a half. The rotation of the Earth beneath it brought every square inch of the surface within viewing range in a twelve-hour period. Its eye was a large, finely-honed mirror, bigger than most Earth- bound telescopes. This eye, like many cousins, would never witness the stark glories of the Universe. It was dedicated to peering at the human scurryings below.