Read Deep Storm Online

Authors: Lincoln Child

Tags: #General, #Technological, #Fantasy, #Atlantis (Legendary place), #Atlantis, #Fiction - Espionage, #Mind & Spirit, #Espionage, #Thrillers, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective, #Lost continents, #Science Fiction, #Thriller, #Mystery And Suspense Fiction, #Body, #Mythical Civilizations, #Geographical myths

Deep Storm (23 page)

 

Yes. Asher mentioned that to me.

 

Thats not all. It looks like ordinary light, right?

 

Except for how white it is, yes.

 

But its far from ordinary. In fact, its paradoxical. Just about every test Ive run has come back with anomalous results.

 

What? Lights just light, isnt it?

 

Thats what I used to think. But my tests are proving otherwise. Here, Ill give you an example. That piece of equipment youre leaning against? Its a spectrograph.

 

Ive never seen one so big.

 

Ping smiled again. Okay, its a very special photoelectric spectrograph. But it does what all its brethren do, just a lot faster and with greater detail. You know how spectrographs work?

 

They break light up into its component wavelengths.

 

Right. When matter is ionized by heat, say it throws off light. Different kinds of matter throw off different kinds of light. Theyre called line emissions, and the spectrograph can pick them out and sort them. Theyre very important to astronomers. By studying the line emissions of a star, they can determine what that star is made of.

 

Go on.

 

So I used this spectrograph to analyze the beam of light that things throwing out. And this is the result. Ping reached around for a sheet of paper and handed it to Crane.

 

Crane scanned the readout. He didnt see anything particularly unusual. It showed an erratic line, full of peaks and valleys, wriggling from left to right across the page not all that different, he thought, from an EKG.

 

I dont know much about photoelectric spectroscopy, he said, but I dont see anything strange about this.

 

Not strange for a distant star, maybe. But for this little object? Impossibly strange. These she pointed at several sharp spikes on the graphare absorption lines.

 

So?

 

You only get absorption spectrums when there is something in front of the star youre looking at. Like a cloud of gas, or something, that blocks some of the light, absorbs specific wavelengths. You would never see such results from a beam of light in the same room with you.

 

Crane looked at the plot spectrum again, frowning. So youre saying the kind of light this thing is emitting could only be seen from a faraway star.

 

Thats right. The spectrum of light this sentinel is giving off is, fundamentally, impossible.

 

Crane fell silent. He handed the readout back to Ping.

 

And thats just one of a dozen paradoxes Ive discovered about this little fellow. Every test I try yields incomprehensible results. Its fascinating but frustrating, too. Thats why I bothered using a spectrograph in the first place I figured something normally used by astronomers would be safe, at least. She shook her head. And then, there are its physical components. Why is it emitting a beam of light in the first place? And did you notice how the beam always shines in the same direction up whatever way the object is rotated?

 

No, I didnt. Crane reached for the floating object and, half distractedly, turned it over with his fingers. Although it swiveled obligingly under the gentle pressure, the beam of light it emitted stayed in place, rock-solid, pointed constantly at the ceiling, its point of origin moving smoothly over its surface as it rotated. The object felt cold to his touch and strangely slippery.

 

Curious, he said. The light shines from the same relative position no matter how its oriented in space. As if the entire surface is capable of illumination. He pulled the marker closer. No doubt it was his imagination, but it seemed to be growing a little warmer in his hand. He glanced over at Hui Ping. I wonder if

 

Then he fell silent abruptly. She had stepped back from him, and a look of shock and dread had suddenly come over her face.

 

What is it? Crane asked.

 

Dr. Ping took another step back, moving behind a large piece of equipment. Gloves she said in a strangled voice.

 

Suddenly, Crane became aware of an almost painful heat in his fingertips. He quickly jerked his hand away. Released, the sentinel glided smoothly back to its former position in the precise center of the room.

 

He stared at it, rooted in place by sudden fear. Ping had spoken only one word, but her meaning seared its way through Cranes consciousness:

 

Nobody has ever handled it without gloves

 

As the burning sensation in his fingers sharply increased, he felt his heart accelerate and his mouth go dry. He had just committed a cardinal sin, made the most glaring error any rookie researcher could. And now

 

But further thought was cut short by the sudden call of a loud Klaxon. Metal screeched against metal: all around the lab, air vents slammed closed. The overhead illumination snapped off, replaced by red security lighting.

 

Ping had pushed an Emergency Alert button on the wall and sealed them both inside.

 

 

Chapter 27

 

Crane stood, frozen. The sound of the Klaxon seemed to make the walls tremble, and the emergency lights daubed the lab the color of blood.

 

What had happened? Hed touched the alien device and his touch had triggered some kind of reaction. Oh, God, he thought, fear spiking wildly. Have I been irradiated? Some kind of alpha radiation, maybe, or low neutron radiation? How big a dose? And how will I even

 

He shook this speculation away, trying to fight back the fear, trying to think logically. Whats the treatment for partial-body exposure?

 

He backed away from the hovering object. Bath! he shouted. I need a saline bath, quick!

 

Glancing over at Hui, he noticed she was leaning over the equipment and speaking to him yet he could hear nothing over the shriek of the Klaxon.

 

What? he said.

 

More shouting, gesticulating.

 

What? he called again.

 

Hui turned, pressed a button on the wall. Abruptly, the Klaxon fell silent. A moment later, normal light was restored.

 

I said, its okay! she cried. Its only infrared!

 

Crane stared at her. Infrared?

 

Yes. Ive just now gotten the readings on this console. When you touched it, the marker began emitting infrared light. Ping watched her instrumentation a moment longer. Then she stepped around the equipment and, holding up a portable Geiger counter, ran it up and down Cranes front, letting it come to rest on his fingers. Just trace background readings the kind youd find throughout the Facility.

 

At that moment, Crane became aware of loud voices and pounding on the door. Hui turned, trotted quickly over to a communications console, grabbed a handset. Dr. Ping here, she spoke into it. Erroneous alert. I repeat, alert sounded in error.

 

An incorporeal voice responded, toneless and mechanical. Enter validation code.

 

Hui turned to a keypad, punched in a series of numbers.

 

Validation code verified, the voice said. Standing down.

 

With another clanging of metal, the coverings drew back from the ventilation ducts and fresh air drifted into the lab once more. Hui unlocked the door and opened it; the two marines, who had been hammering on it, almost tumbled inside.

 

False alarm, Hui said, smiling deferentially and nodding. Im very sorry for the inconvenience.

 

The marines looked around suspiciously for a moment, rifles at the ready. Hui continued to smile and nod, and after a moment with a last look at Crane the two ducked back outside and resumed their positions flanking the entrance. Hui closed the door once again, then turned toward Crane. Her smile immediately turned sheepish.

 

Sorry, she said.

 

Youre sorry? I just made a mistake that would put a schoolboy to shame.

 

No. I thought you knew the guidelines. I overreacted, IWell, I guess were all a little tense down here. Every test weve done shows these things to be inert, benign. Still

 

Her voice trailed off and they stood a moment in silence. Crane exhaled slowly, feeling his heart decelerate. His fingertips still tingled.

 

Hui seemed to be pondering something. Actually, she said slowly, I think you might have just done me a favor, Dr. Crane.

 

Hows that? Crane asked, absently rubbing his fingertips.

 

Youve given me something else to analyze. Because now, the marker is emitting two kinds of electromagnetic radiation.

 

Crane looked at her. You mean

 

Yes. Hui pointed at her instrumentation. Its still generating infrared as well as visible light.

 

Once again, Crane approached the object, a little warily this time. It floated there before him, shimmering, its edges wavering ever so slightly, like the delicate, inconstant lines of a mirage. Why would it be doing that? he murmured.

 

Thats the question, isnt it, Dr. Crane?

 

Crane peered at it. It couldnt have anything to do with its method of propulsion could it?

 

That seems highly unlikely.

 

Self-defense mechanism?

 

You mean, to make you let go of it? Equally unlikely. Something as sophisticated as this would have more effective ways to protect itself. Besides, we tried to damage one theyre impervious to everything weve thrown at them. Your fingers couldnt be much of a threat.

 

Crane circled the marker, frowning. He still felt a little shaky from the adrenaline rush of fright. Picking up a plastic test tube, he very carefully maneuvered it up and around the floating sentinel, caught it, then sealed the tube with a red rubber stopper and paused to examine it. The tiny entity hovered at the precise center of the test tube, supremely oblivious.

 

Asher thinks its a message of some sort, he said. The on-off pulses of light are a digital code.

 

Hui nodded. A logical conclusion.

 

I wonder how hes doing, Crane said, more to himself than her. He felt guilty for not connecting with the chief scientist. The last time hed spoken to Asher had been in his stateroom, when Spartan and his marines had burst in. Hed been so busy since then that hed simply had no time to contact the man or seek him out.

 

Ill send him an e-mail, Ping said. She sat at her desk and began to type. She paused, frowned, then typed again. Thats funny, she said.

 

What is? Crane said, stepping toward her.

 

Im getting network errors. She pointed at the screen. Look. Maximum allowable dropped packets exceeded.

 

What kind of network are you running?

 

Standard 802.11g wireless, the same kind the entire Facility uses. Hui typed some more commands. There same thing again.

 

Ive never had any problems with the network in the Medical Suite.

 

First time its ever happened to me. Always been rock solid before. Hui retyped the commands. Okay. Got the e-mail through on the third try.

 

But Crane was still thinking. Whats the frequency band of an 802.11g wireless network? he asked.

 

Five point one gigahertz. Why? Hui turned from the computer screen to face him. You dont suppose

 

That somethings interfering with it? Good question. You have any other five point one gigahertz devices in this lab?

 

Nope. Only the wireless network is transmitting on that frequency

 

Huis voice faltered. For a moment, scientist and doctor looked at each other. Then as if with a single thought they both turned toward the little marker hovering serenely in the test tube Crane was holding.

 

Hui rose from her chair, walked to a nearby lab table, and fished through an assortment of meters and handheld devices until she located an analyzer. She stepped up to the floating object, held the analyzer before it, peered at its tiny screen.

 

My God, she said. Its transmitting on five point one gigahertz, as well.

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