“When we examine those places,” Danielson said, pointing at the computer paper at Runyan’s feet, “do you expect to see something definite?”
“Maybe not,” said Gantt, looking at Runyan. “Granted that we’re dealing with a small black hole, and that it was created artificially, which seems to follow.”
Runyan nodded assent.
“Then,” Gantt continued, “we’re also talking about something beyond our technological feasibility. Suppose the only thing remaining at the ‘launch site,’ if I may call it that, is a burned spot and the impression of three round pods—I believe that’s the classical imprint of a UFO.”
“If we know where to look, we can find that too,” said Danielson, “if not with satellites, then a direct fly-over.”
“I suppose we must keep an open mind,” said Runyan, “but I have a feeling that the clues will be more definite.”
They lapsed into silence. Gantt broke it with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but despite the evidence, I find the whole thing too incredible to believe. An artificial black hole planted here in the Earth—I mean, my god!” He raised his hands and eyes in an imploring salute to the skies.
“Alex,” he continued, “you said a while ago you were relieved the issue was now out in the open. I must say I don’t feel that way at all. After all, proving that we are dealing with a black hole is only the tip of the iceberg. Until we know who and why, we’ve barely begun to plumb the mystery. The most stupendous, terrifying, and profound aspects of this situation would seem to be before us.”
He was silent for a moment and muttered, “Christ,” and poured himself another jigger of bourbon and drank it off.
Runyan had slumped in his chair, chin on his chest. “I suppose you could be right, Ellison,” he said. “I have a hazy idea of what’s going on that suggests to me that, conceptually anyway, we’re over the hump.”
“How could we be? What in the world are you thinking?” Gantt demanded.
Runyan waved him off with a hand. “It’s too vague. I’m probably being naive or stupid or both.”
Gantt glared at him, uncomfortable with this dismissal.
At last he said, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ll go nuts if I just sit here and think about it. I’ve got to do something.” He stood up and looked around impatiently.
“Should we have another look for a hole in the ground?” asked Danielson. “I really wasn’t very thorough.”
“We could do that,” agreed Gantt. “We don’t really want to attract too much attention to what went on here. On the other hand, if we don’t look now, any sign may get covered up by people shuffling around.”
The moment of tenseness forgotten, they discussed the problem of security for awhile and finally decided they would stage a reenactment. This would show who was knocked down by the passage of the hole, thus showing where to look without giving away their object. Gantt would then order some rearrangement of equipment that would occupy most of the members of the entourage. This would give Runyan and Danielson a chance to search the ground for signs of penetration without drawing notice.
They put this plan into action with Runyan noting the vicinity where the hole had come up and Danielson several hundred feet away locating where it had descended.
Then Gantt gave orders to set up a fourth instrumentation site outside of camp and prepare accommodations for Runyan and Danielson, a legitimate task postponed earlier. Danielson joined Runyan. For the next few minutes they assiduously searched the several square yards just outside the main tent, Runyan erect and Danielson in a low crouch.
“Let’s try something else,” Runyan finally said. He directed Danielson to stand against the tent wall.
“Now I’m going to jump and stamp—you look for some sign of settling dirt.”
He launched himself upward and came down with a satisfying thud. He looked at the ground as Danielson peered around. They looked up at one another and shrugged. Runyan repeated the faintly ludicrous operation, working systematically across the suspect area.
On the fifth try, Danielson pointed, “There, just by your left foot.”
Two small stones were wedged in a depression, but as they looked a trickle of loose dirt sifted beneath the stones and disappeared.
Runyan crouched and carefully plucked away one of the stones in each hand. Beneath them was a hole in the sunbaked clay soil the size of a finger. Danielson jogged over to Gantt’s tent and returned with a coat hanger under her arm and another she busily untwisted. When she straightened the hanger, she lowered it slowly into the hole. It met only minor resistance and sank to the hook, which remained on the edge, marking the spot.
They walked to the second location and after a brief search found another hole. Again, they straightened a coat hanger and embedded it to mark the spot. Runyan rummaged up a tape measure he had spotted in the main instrumentation tent, and they marked off the distance between the two holes, which Runyan recorded in a small notebook in his pocket.
“Alex,” Danielson asked as they headed back to Gantt’s tent, “is there a special significance to the fact that it came down a bit further to the east? Is that related to the Earth’s rotation from west to east?”
“That’s one of many effects,” he replied as they settled into their chairs, “but you have to be careful to treat all the irregularities, all the perturbations.”
“How does the rotation come in?” she asked.
“Well, here, I’ll show you.” Runyan retrieved his computer output from the ground where he had left it and turned it over on his lap to write on the blank side. He pulled out a pen and carefully blocked out a set of equations. Danielson scooted her chair around close to his so she could see.
Gantt returned an hour later and found them in an animated discussion of orbit perturbations. He did not follow the details, but it was clear to him that Danielson was holding her own with Runyan, giving him pause with penetrating questions and occasionally adding a twist of her own. Although the discussion was purely intellectual, Gantt could sense the electricity between the two. Alex is well into stage two, he thought, black hole or no. Then a question of the generation and propagation of seismic waves arose, and Gantt pitched into the discussion as well.
They were still at it when the dinner bell sounded. Runyan and Danielson lagged behind as they headed for the mess tent.
“Listen,” Runyan said quietly, leaning over toward her, “there’s not much to do here in the middle of god’s country, but how about an evening stroll after things cool off. The desert can be quite beautiful then.”
Danielson turned her head to look up into his eyes, light flashing within the dark aura of his hair and beard. She wanted to be alone with him.
“That sounds very nice,” she said, holding his gaze for a moment. Then, with a new energy, they moved to catch up to Gantt.
After supper Runyan and Danielson joined Gantt at his tent in the fading evening light. Despite the lingering heat, they went inside the tent where Gantt switched on a generator- fed bulb. They discussed their current position and laid plans for the immediate future. Although the major point they had sought to check seemed well settled, they agreed that Gantt’s station should remain in operation to compile a precise record of the behavior of the object. Danielson would return and report to Isaacs and redouble the effort to discover the hypothesized point of origin. Runyan would report to Phillips and resume his orbital calculations. Gantt again proferred his bottle of bourbon, and they drank a nightcap to seal their arrangement. Danielson excused herself. Runyan followed a few minutes later.
Runyan pushed aside the tent flap and stepped out. The acrid aroma of tarpaulin mingled with the wafted delicate fragrance of grease wood. The clean dry air was warm and enveloping, as if you could shuck your clothes and drink it in through every pore. Runyan waited for his eyes to adjust, then turned toward Danielson’s tent, a sense of anticipation beginning to tickle his loins. He peered through the darkness toward her tent, some forty paces away on the other side of the one erected for him, but could only make out the vaguest outlines. Then he saw her, waiting for him in the deepest shadow. The familiar feeling of sweet power flooded him, and his mind filled with images of her warm curves, putting flesh to the dim silhouette he could barely perceive as he approached.