"He said he didn't remember being anywhere," Batson countered.
"That doesn't mean he wasn't someplace. It just means he doesn't remember," Fran said.
"It just sucked them in," Pencak marveled, standing a respectful five feet away from the Wall.
"What do you think it is?" Fran asked the older woman. "Do you still think it's a door?"
"Of course," Pencak replied. "But a door to where? I don't think it's a direct line to Tunguska. Maybe they're in Meteor Crater. Or in South America. Or farther. Who knows? We'll just have to wait until they come back. In fact, I think it might be more than a door."
"You seem very certain they are coming back," Lamb noted, eyeing Pencak with suspicion.
"The soldier came through unharmed, except for what the Russians did to him. There is no reason to believe that whatever force is behind this Wall is malevolent."
Lamb turned to Tomkins. "I want you to send a remote camera through ASAP. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Tomkins whispered into his microphone for a few seconds and the cable began moving. A few minutes later a large steel suitcase appeared in the hole and hit the ground with a slight bump. Tomkins disconnected it and opened the case. He set up the small TV they'd used above, hooking it into the power line. Then he placed the reel holding the fiber-optic cable near the Wall.
"Ready to go, sir."
Fran frowned. She wasn't sure this was a good idea, but she had nothing concrete to base that feeling upon and she could sense that Lamb was not in a mood for any dissension.
"Go ahead," Lamb ordered.
Tomkins slowly unwound the reel and the optic cable, small camera in front, snaked across the floor toward the Wall. It touched the black and slowly melted in, until suddenly the Wall flashed white. The cable spun off the reel faster than the eye could see, disappearing, and dragging the TV and suitcase with it. Tomkins leapt away, almost getting smashed as the TV flew by. The entire system was gone in less than half a second.
Tomkins stared at the Wall in disbelief and then back at Lamb, speechless. Fran glanced at Pencak, who was as expressionless as ever.
"Send the cage down," Lamb ordered. "I need to make some calls."
After he had disappeared up through the hole, Fran turned to the other two scientists. "What do we do now?"
Batson simply shook his head. "I don't know."
Pencak sat down on the rock floor near the black Wall, her bad leg stretched out in front. "We wait. I think they" — she nodded at the Wall-"whoever they are, have the initiative now, along with Major Hawkins and Ms. Levy."
"Shit," Batson muttered, walking away from the two of them and sitting down in the far end of the cave, where the ceiling curved down. Fran moved over and joined him.
"How are you doing?"
Don eyed her suspiciously. "All right."
Fran stared at him for a couple of minutes until he finally spoke again. "What? What are you looking at me like that for?"
"I know what it feels like," she said.
"What what feels like?" he snapped.
"At least you don't have the shakes too bad," she noted.
Don glared at her. "I don't need any shit from you."
"No, you don't. You do a good enough job of that yourself." She reached over and grabbed his right hand, wrapping it in both of hers. "It will be all right."
Don kept the angry look in his eyes for several minutes, then it gradually faded and he leaned back against the smoothly cut wall. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just don't feel too hot."
"I know," Fran said. "Like I said, I've been through it. It gets better."
He looked up at the Wall. "I don't think so."
Fran followed his look. "I do. I have to."
Lamb rubbed his forehead nervously as the screen wavered and then cleared up. When the President appeared, Lamb gave a dispassionate recital of the events of the previous hour.
When he had finished, the President sat silent for a few minutes, his gaze turned away from the camera. Finally he looked at Lamb. "All right. You've got two people missing. One of the men you thought was lost at Tunguska came through this thing. So we know for sure it's some sort of transporter, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"And nobody but this soldier has come through, right? No Russians, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"And we don't know where these two people who went through your side have gone?"
"No, sir. I'm having imagery taken at Tunguska, but we have the same problem of not knowing what's happening under the tarps out there."
The President drummed his fingers on his desktop, eyes lost in thought. "If the Russians have them, they'll ID Levy very quickly. And Hawkins knows too damn much." He slammed his palm onto the desk in frustration. "Dammit, Steve, this is a screw-up. We still don't know who or what we're dealing with. Do you, or any of those people you have with you, have any idea of what to do next?"
Lamb shook his head. "No, sir. I'm thinking of sending a remote camera with a SATCOM transmitter through. Maybe we can get pictures of the other side then."
"Do you think Levy is a Russian agent? That she knew what this Wall is, and has been using these transmissions for her own purposes?"
"It's possible, sir." Lamb shrugged in frustration. "I just don't know."
"If the Russians were behind this, why would they send this fellow Richman through?"
"I don't think they would have done that on purpose. Maybe there was a mix-up. But maybe they aren't behind it."
The President considered that for a few seconds. "What about Pencak?"
"She's made no overt actions."
"You have no idea how this Wall works?"
"No, sir."
"We don't have anything like it in the pipeline?"
"No, sir."
"Not even on spec?"
"No, sir."
"Nothing from Intel that anyone else might have such a thing?"
"No, sir."
The President glanced past the camera at someone who must have entered the office with him. "All right. What about the Russians? Anything on the fleet movement?"
"It's in position south of here, sir. They're just holding in place. I am concerned that if they really aren't behind this, they may try something in response to our recon team in Tunguska."
"I've received nothing about that through diplomatic channels," the President noted. "Either they haven’t ID’ed the two bodies as ours, or they have a reason to keep it quiet. With all the trouble he's having with his own Parliament, Pamarov can't afford to cause any waves." He glanced down at the notes on his desk. "Anything on the other bomb?"
Lamb had checked that with his assistant before getting on the air. "No, sir. Not a word."
"Sending that team into Tunguska was a mistake, Steve. Letting Levy and Hawkins go through was too. Let's not have any more."
The screen went blank.
THE OTHER SIDE
Hawkins blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim surroundings after the flash of white light. He was completely disoriented and his senses shifted into focus slowly. The experience of going through the Wall had run from the feeling of sinking into molasses-as Richman had said-to feeling as if every cell in his body was being stretched, to a sudden snapping back to normal.
He felt no immediate threat, so he took it one sense at a time. He was cold, colder than he'd been in the chamber. Hawkins estimated it was in the high forties, yet the air had a very curious texture to it almost like a humid summer day. The first thing he could clearly see was Levy standing at his side, peering about. Directly behind them a shimmering replica of the Wall stood. He scanned outward, trying to keep his brain moving with his eyes.
As best he could make out, he was inside some sort of massive cavern or building. Metal struts loomed up from the nearest wall and disappeared overhead into darkness. Hawkins strained his eyes into the dimness, trying to make out the exact dimensions, but he could only see the solid wall closest to them and another directly across. There were numerous large, blocky objects scattered about on the floor, the exact purposes of which were indeterminable. To the far left there appeared to be a bright light glowing. Unable to determine the scale of the light Hawkins had no idea how far away it was, but he estimated at least two to three kilometers.