Lincoln Child - Deep Storm

As he watched, Rafferty sent another puff of compressed air over the bottom of the hole. A small storm of sediment and loose gabbro erupted into the yellow glow of the Marble's exterior light, to be quickly sucked away by the vacuum unit.

"Careful," Korolis murmured. "What's the distance?"

"We're there, sir," Rafferty replied.

Korolis turned back to the viewscreen. "Another jet," he said.

"Another jet, aye."

He watched as another stream of compressed air shot over the bottom of the dig interface. He could see the two large sentinels floating on either side, glittering tails moving restlessly back and forth, tendrils drifting lazily. They were like spectators at a show. And why not? It was only right they should be here. They had come not only to witness his triumph, but also to guide him through the fabulous technological riches that awaited. It was not chance that brought him here on this most critical of dives: it was destiny.

"Again," he whispered.

Another jet of air; another gray storm of matter. The viewscreen quickly cleared as the vacuum unit sucked away the particulate. Korolis gripped the control handles even more tightly.

The radio on his control panel squawked into life. "Marble Three, this is Dive Control. Marble Three, this is Dive Control. Please acknowledge-"

Without taking his eyes from the viewscreen, Korolis reached down and snapped off the radio. He could see something now-a bright sheen, almost like the reflected gleam of metal.

"One more shot," he said. "Very carefully, Dr. Rafferty. Smooth as glass."

"Very good, sir."

A ripple of compressed air shot through the dark water beneath them; a fresh confusion of gray and brown particles. And then, as it cleared, Korolis gasped.

"My God," he breathed.

The air-jetting system had cleared the base of the shaft, revealing a smooth, glassy surface. To Korolis, pressed up against the eyepiece, it looked almost like someone blowing dust from a tabletop. Beyond lay an illusion-at least, he thought it was an illusion-of nearly infinite depth: a black infinity extending below. His searchlight was reflecting from the glassy surface, but he thought he could make out another light source, dim and strange, beyond and below the bright corona.

On either side of the Marble, the large sentinels had grown agitated. No longer content to simply drift, they were moving back and forth across the narrow diameter of the tunnel.

"Extinguish the light," Korolis said.

"Sir?" Rafferty said.

"Extinguish the light, please."

Now Korolis could see more clearly.

They were suspended above a massive cavity, of which only the smallest speck had been exposed. Whether the cavity was hollow-or whether the glassy surface directly below them filled it, like glue forced into a hole-he could not be sure. The velvety blackness gave no distinct impression, save that of vast depth.

But no …a faint light appeared from far below. As he stared, barely able to breathe, it slowly brightened.

It was coming closer.

"Sir!" said Rafferty, his normally reserved voice tense.

Korolis glanced at him. "What is it?"

"They've stopped broadcasting their signals."

"You've regained full control?" Korolis asked.

"Yes, sir. Wireless and remote systems, as well. Sensors, too: ultrasound, radiation, magnetometer, everything."

Korolis turned back to the viewscreen. "They're showing themselves to us," he murmured.

The light was closer now. Korolis noticed that it was wavering slightly: not in the lazy, undulant way of the sentinels' silhouettes, but in a sharp, almost fierce pulsation. And it was a color he had never seen before: a kind of deep metallic sheen, like the glow of black light on a knife blade. It seemed he could taste it as much as see it. This was a strangely unsettling sensation. Something about it made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up.

"Sir!" said Rafferty again. "I'm picking up radiation signatures from below."

"What kind of radiation, Dr. Rafferty?"

"Every kind, sir. Infrared, ultraviolet, gamma, radio. The sensors are going crazy. It's a spectrum I don't recognize."

"Analyze it, then."

"Very well, sir." The engineer turned to his station and began punching in data.

Korolis turned back to the viewscreen. The glowing object was still rising toward them out of the rich blackness. Its strange color deepened. It was shaped like a torus, its outline pulsating ever more brilliantly. As he stared, openmouthed, the lambent otherworldliness of it brought back a sudden memory of childhood, long forgotten. When he was eight, his parents had taken him to Italy, and they had attended a papal mass at St. Peter's basilica. When the pontiff had brought out the host and raised it toward the congregation, Korolis felt himself galvanized by something like an electric shock. Somehow, the richness of the baroque spectacle brought the true import of it home to his young consciousness for the first time. There, at the tabernacle, the pontiff was offering them the most wonderful gift in the universe: the sacred mystery of the consecrated host.

Of course, organized religion had long since lost its usefulness for Korolis. But, staring at the wondrous, shimmering thing, he felt the same blend of emotions. He was among the chosen. And here was the offering of a higher power, the most wondrous of gifts.

His mouth was dry, and the coppery taste had returned. "Either one of you want to take a look?" he asked huskily.

Rafferty was still hunched over his laptop. Dr. Flyte nodded, then slid his way across the cramped interior and took up a position at the view port. For a moment, the old man said nothing. Then his jaw worked briefly. "'No light; but rather darkness visible,'" he murmured.

Abruptly, Rafferty looked up from his laptop. "Commander!" he barked. "You need to see this, sir."

Korolis bent over the screen, which showed two images, each one a blizzard of narrow vertical lines.

"At first I couldn't identify the spectrum of electromagnetic radiation," Rafferty said. "It made no sense; it seemed impossible."

"Why?" Korolis found his glance stealing back toward the viewscreen.

"Because the spectra contained wavelengths of both matter and antimatter."

"But that can't be. Matter and antimatter can't exist together."

"Exactly. But that object you see on the screen? Sensors said it was composed of both. Then I separated the matter signature from the antimatter signature. And I got this." Rafferty waved toward the computer screen.

"What is it?"

"Hawking radiation, sir."

At this, Dr. Flyte turned from the viewscreen in surprise.

"Hawking radiation?" Korolis repeated.

Rafferty nodded. Sweat had appeared on his forehead, and there was a strange brightness to his eyes. "It's the thermal radiation that emanates from the edges of a black hole."

"You're joking."

The engineer shook his head. "The spectrum is instantly recognizable to any astrophysicist."

Korolis felt his growing sense of euphoria begin to dissipate into disbelief. "You're saying that object we're looking at is a black hole? Composed of both matter and antimatter? That just isn't possible."

Flyte had returned his gaze to the viewscreen. Now, he pushed himself back, blue eyes flashing in his pale face. " Ehui! I think I understand."

"Then explain, please, Dr. Flyte."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen. That torus-shaped object down there isn't a single black hole. It's two."

"Two?" Korolis repeated, his incredulity deepening.

"Two, yes! Imagine two black holes-they'd each be extremely small, perhaps the size of a marble-in very tight orbit around each other. They're orbiting at a furious rate, a thousand a second or more."

"Orbiting how?" Korolis asked.