Майкл Крайтон - The Andromeda Evolution

Stone complied.

The rangy older man stepped over to one of the turbines. Holding the instrument near the floor, he began sweeping it back and forth. His eyes stayed on the compass needle.

As it fluttered, he stopped.

Taking careful steps around the room, Odhiambo used the relationship between current and magnetism to find a hidden line of electrical current. By watching the direction of the swinging compass needle, he determined the flow of current and followed a live wire across the room.

“The electricity goes this way,” he said. “That canary survey puts us at nearly a kilometer deep. Well below the waterline. You said the transformer can push power only a short distance. Well, if we continue in this direction we will find ourselves . . .”

“Directly under the lake,” said Stone. “It makes no sense.”

Unfazed, Odhiambo methodically followed the line. It ended at a blank wall. He paused, frowning.

“I do not understand,” said Odhiambo, standing under brightly lit canary drones. “The electricity flows this way. There should be some kind of duct or maintenance hallway, at least.”

Stone rechecked his neck monitor. With a swipe of his thumb, he turned off the canary cameras and reactivated the laser rangefinders. The room filled with an invisible sweep of precisely measured beams of near-infrared light, projected from spinning mirrors in the hearts of the drones.

The monitor began to display the wall and floor surfaces in exquisite detail. Among the patterns and shapes, Stone saw the man-shaped outline of Harold Odhiambo. And under the feet of Odhiambo’s silhouette, he saw the familiar lines of a hexagon.

“Harold, look down at your feet.”

The silhouette on the screen looked down.

“I see nothing . . . wait, an imprint. But those are everywhere.”

Stone lowered the monitor to his chest, where it dimmed itself. He was already walking toward Odhiambo. He had identified two barely noticeable grooves, visible only at submillimeter-level precision. Luckily, he recognized them for what they were.

Hinges.

Fight or Flight

ITOLD YOU,” SAID ODHIAMBO, SMILING. “THE ELECTRICAL conduits must lead somewhere. Otherwise the dam serves no purpose.”

Leaning on his digging trowel, Odhiambo was able to unlatch the hatchway. He levered it open, and the hexagonal lid rose to reveal a dark hole. Inside, Odhiambo saw the glinting bones of a metal utility ladder leading down. The six-sided shaft cut straight into the substrate and disappeared into black depths.

“I thought you’d be more upset,” said Stone, leaning over the shaft with a canary resting on his palm. “Now that we know this isn’t an alien structure, after all.”

“Oh,” said Odhiambo. “We most certainly do not know that. In fact, I am more convinced than ever that this structure is alien in origin. Human involvement or not.”

Stone looked at Odhiambo to see if he was joking. It appeared he was not. Shrugging, Stone removed his hand from under the glowing drone. It hovered in place for an instant, then began to slowly lower into the pit. The rest of the canaries continued to survey the control room.

“I guess we’ll find out,” said Stone.

The squawking of a loudspeaker startled everyone, but most of all Peng Wu. She let out a surprised shriek and clapped a hand over her respirator in embarrassment. Over the course of the exploration she had grown increasingly tense, to the point that now a facial tic had appeared under her left eye. Years of emotional mastery seemed to be fracturing under the strain of this mission and its secrets.

Embedded in the beige face of a bloodstained control panel, a small square speaker was sounding a transmission alert at full volume.

“Attention,” announced a tinny voice. “I don’t know if you can hear me but by my estimates, you should have reached the control room by now. If so, good work, Nidhi.”

The team looked at each other in disbelief.

“That’s Sophie Kline, isn’t it?” asked Stone.

Vedala could only nod.

“What happened here was an accident. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.”

Riddled with waves of static, the astronaut’s words echoed through the room. Stone and Odhiambo left their rucksacks and equipment at the open mouth of the hatch. They joined Vedala, who was standing near the desk.

Peng Wu began to pace back and forth.

“No,” Peng said. “No, no, no. This is not good. She’s working with them .”

Her attention split, Vedala cocked her head at Peng. Them?

Kline continued her monologue over the speaker. “I can’t explain to you what I have accomplished. And you could never understand my reasons. But I want you to know . . . this is for the good of all humankind.”

Peng looked around in dismay.

“We have to leave here,” she said. “She’s not on our side. She’s dangerous.”

Turning to go, Peng collided with a small figure who had been hiding behind a dark, thrumming turbine. Tupa was knocked to the ground. The adult-sized T-shirt he wore billowed around him, ghostlike. Instantly on the attack, Peng began to raise her boot for a vicious stomp but the boy scrambled away, his borrowed machete clattering to the ground. Back on his feet, he stood exposed in the light of several canaries, chest heaving.

“Tupa!” shouted Stone, recognizing the boy’s lanky silhouette.

As Peng stood staring, Stone rushed over and swept the boy up in his arms.

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“Hi Jahmays,” said the boy, grinning.

“I said we have to go,” said Peng, her voice rising. “Now. All of us.”

The former soldier seemed to already understand the dire implications of Kline’s speech. Her resolve only grew as Kline’s slightly slurred words continued to wash over them like rain, the echoes of each syllable chasing each other.

“I warned you to stay away. I warned you all. Remember that.”

Turning in circles, Peng looked at the field team, eyes wide over the blunt nose of her respirator. “She’s tried to kill us once already. She’s going to try again. I’m calling for an evacuation. Now.”

Vedala put her palms up, trying to calm Peng. “That’s not possible. She’s in orbit. You need to remain—”

At that moment, the shattered turbine began to try to restart itself.

The burned wreck had shut down automatically after the first, accidental explosion. Now, its safeguards appeared to have been remotely overridden. A disturbing shudder ran through the floor.

“Goodbye, team,” said the soft voice, already lost in a static crack of lightning as electricity surged into the broken turbine engine mount, instantly vaporizing the remains of the rotor assembly.

A plume of billowing black smoke shot up from the husk.

“Respirators tight!” shouted Vedala, backing up toward the pile of rucksacks ringing the open hatchway. Odhiambo, Stone, and Tupa joined her. Knocked to her knees by the tremor, Peng swiveled her head desperately.

“Come on, Peng!” urged Vedala.

Standing up on shaky legs, Peng focused on the room’s most obvious exit with a soldier’s instinct. The only sure way out was across the cavernous room, beyond the dense smoke spewing up from the screaming remains of the turbine. It would be tight, but Peng was confident she could make it in time. If someone was going to escape to stage a rescue—or a body recovery—it would have to be her.

Escape was the only winning move.

“No!” ordered Vedala, kicking her backpack into the open hatchway. “Everyone after me!”

Voice muffled by his respirator, Odhiambo shouted, “Into the hatch!”

The plume of smoke had risen up into a foreboding column, smothering several loitering canary drones. Peng began to skirt around the obsidian cloud. After the initial shock wave had passed, the floor had turned spongy and soft.