Legacy

14

The command module Falcon 1, with attached Altair lander, passed extremely close to the insertion path the ESA spacecraft had traveled just five hours previous. The crew listened as several large and small pieces of insulation from the French-made Astral lander struck their spacecraft. The damage the ESA vehicle had sustained in the recent attacks had been enough to leave a continual debris trail in her wake as she approached the Moon. Every time the spacecraft was peppered with those floating particles, the crew cringed at the thought of the damage they might sustain to the fragile lander and the command module that was the only way home for them.

Sarah was in the umbilical tunnel that connected the two spacecraft when a loud bang was heard aft of the crew module on Falcon 1. Mendenhall, who was busy exercising on the bicycle in the lander, saw Sarah stop and tense as a slight rumble was felt throughout both modules.

“That didn’t sound good,” Mendenhall said. He turned and faced the mission commander. Colonel Kendal reached out from where he had been doing isometric exercises with hand grips and pulled Sarah free of the tunnel. He immediately floated into the large command module.

“He seemed a little worried too,” Mendenhall said. He looked over at Ryan, who was drinking a Dr. Pepper from a small Mylar package.

“Attention, we have some red warning lights up here. I want all nonessential crew members to take station inside Altair for the time being. Seal all access hatches and go to separate life support until we get a grasp on what’s happening.”

After the command module’s pilot stopped talking, Ryan floated over to the large triangular window at the pilot’s station. As his eyes roamed over the exterior face of Altair, he saw several large pieces of gold and silver insulation pass by no more than three feet away.

“No wonder the ESA lost contact with their lander,” Ryan said, sipping his Dr. Pepper through a straw. “Most of it seems to be floating right into our path. A lot of that debris is insulation from their oxygen and water tanks.”

As his eyes stared at the star field and the growing daylight side of the Moon, he lowered the small package of soft drink and hit the VOX communicator at his side.

“Hang on. We have a large chunk of something coming right at us!” he called out, just as the radar threat receiver sounded throughout both craft.

Ryan’s words had no sooner left his mouth than part of the European Astral ’s docking collar slammed into the upper portion of the command module, missing the large pilot’s window on Altair by a mere foot. The impact sent a shock wave through both spacecraft and sent every crew member scrambling for their environmental equipment in case they had been holed.

“We ran over something in the road,” one of the Green Berets said as he strapped himself in the crew chamber below the upper deck of Altair.

“And it was a big something too,” Will said. He and Sarah put on helmets and connected their environmental suits to the individual computer stations. The connection would automatically update the suits’ GPS computers and their oxygen status, as well as the current disposition of all mapping and telemetry connections.

In the command module, Kendal had cleared most of the crew and placed everyone in the Altair in case Falcon 1 lost her air or was in fire danger mode

He hit his own VOX switch and studied the battery situation. Then he examined the eight LED readouts concerning oxygen status and the water tanks housed near the main engine of the command module. In relief he saw that there was no leakage showing on the sensitive gauges.

“Houston, Falcon 1, copy?” Kendal said into the small mike attached to his overalls. He half turned when the LEM pilot held out his ENVI suit and helmet. Kendal shook his head and pointed to the LED readouts on the main console. The needles were holding steady. Pressure readings, a major concern, were at their normal PSI.

“Houston, Falcon 1, do you copy?”

As he released the transmit switch, he looked at the Navy pilot and nodded. The young pilot and five-year astronaut lowered his hand to the own voice communication switch on his belt.

“Houston, Falcon 1 -we have sustained an external collision with an unknown object. Do you copy, over?”

Every crew member waited for the answer from the Johnson Space Center, some staring at nothing, others closing their eyes and hoping the dead air was just a fluke in the COMM system.

“Get on the CCT and see if there’s any damage to the ST5-3-10 high-gain antenna,” Kendal said, knowing they were in for it if what he thought happened had indeed happened. He looked at the gain numbers on the COMM console and saw that the needle was flat-lined at zero transmit, zero receiving.

The lieutenant brought the closed circuit exterior cameras online and found the camera that showed the large high-gain antenna.

“Jesus, skipper,” the pilot said, examining the empty frame.

“Damn thing was torn completely off its mountings,” Kendal said. The main cable that attached the interior to the antenna was stretched to its limit. “Adjust angle and see if we’re lucky enough to be dragging it in our wake.”

The camera angle adjusted, and with relief they saw the ST5-3-10 dish dangling straight out from the taut cable.

“Well, we have to go get that damn thing and repair it,” the colonel said. He hissed through his teeth.

“I volunteer for the walk,” Ryan said, popping his head into the command module.

Kendal turned and saw the eager lander pilot. He shook his head. “Negative, Ryan. You don’t have the space walk training.”

Ryan floated the rest of the way into the large cabin.

“Excuse me, Colonel, but do you?”

“The lieutenant and I have two hundred simulations on record, and that’s two hundred more than you.”

Ryan continued to push.

“Look, I’m sitting here like a bump on a log. I have nothing to do other than being a backup to the lieutenant. And, frankly speaking, if something happens to him, we’re shit out of luck. We need him in here to land this damn thing. I need to go out there instead of him.”

“Sorry, Ryan. I’ll make sure nothing happens to Lieutenant Dugan. After all the times you crashed the Altair in simulations, believe me, I’ll watch him closely. You stand down, son, but thanks for the offer. You stay in here and assist Maggio with the command module. Contact Houston as soon as we have a signal-clear?”

Ryan looked at the module pilot and then at Dugan, the lander pilot. Both men shook their heads at the obvious eagerness of the untrained and dangerous man they had in Ryan.

“Yes, sir, stay with the womenfolk,” Jason said sarcastically.

“Good,” Kendal said. “Now, get your environmental suit on, you’ll be reeling us out of the module’s hatch.”

Ryan moved to comply and as he did he saw the dirty look from Sarah as he entered the lowest deck of the Altair.

“Quit volunteering for things, Jason. Jack will be pissed. You remember what he said about volunteering?”

“Always let someone else do the volunteering, then you can be the smart one when you pull their asses out of the fire,” Jason and Will said simultaneously in the most mundane voices they could use.

“Right,” Sarah said. She had to smile at the dull voices her two friends used when imitating Jack’s dry sense of humor.

Ryan started pulling on his helmet with the assistance of several of the Army personnel. He looked at Will and Sarah as they locked it into place.

“Don’t worry, guys. Mr. Redundancy will be safe and sound inside the command module while others take the risk.”

As they watched Ryan float back through the umbilical tunnel connecting Altair and Falcon 1, Sarah couldn’t help but think about the bad luck the ship was having and about how Jack was faring back on Earth, which now seemed light-years away.

“Jason worries me sometimes,” Will said, frowning through his glass faceplate.

“You guys are all the same,” said an angry Sarah McIntire.

Ryan took the copilot’s seat to monitor the space walk. The two men were tethered by separate leads in case one fouled. The space packs they each wore were controlled by hydrogen jets in case something went wrong with the tethers. Ryan and Maggio watched through the camera system while the rest of the crew stood by belowdecks on Altair, waiting for word from outside the spacecraft. They watched on the CCT system as Dugan and Kendal made their way back along Falcon toward the damaged high-gain antenna.

As the spacecraft was traveling in excess of 34,000 miles per hour, the view was disorienting because they looked as if they were standing still. Kendal made sure the tool belt he was carrying was strapped tightly to his suit and gently pushed off from the hatch. Dugan soon followed. The glare of the sun shone brightly off the white-painted aluminum of Falcon 1 as they eased themselves hand over hand toward the mount that once held the antenna array. As they came up to the severely damaged mount, Kendal held fast as Dugan started to slip his thickly gloved hand around the cable that was the only anchor for the drifting dish. As he attempted to grab hold, Kendal waved him off.

“Secure yourself to the spacecraft,” the colonel said over the radio.

“Roger, sorry,” Dugan said. He slipped his hook through the base of the mount. When he did, Kendal waved for him to take hold of the cable.

Dugan expected resistance, as if he were pulling something in from deep water. Instead, he was rewarded with the dish actually sliding nicely toward the mount. Kendal studied the panel that housed the recessed radar system. He saw a large dent on the cover and he shook his head inside the large helmet.

“Here’s the problem with the radar and why we got such a late collision warning,” he said as he started to unscrew the access panel. When he had the cover off, he saw the smashed circuit on the radar’s motherboard. “ Falcon cut the power to the radar through the circuit breaker panel.”

Inside Falcon, Ryan lifted free of his seat and floated toward the circuit breaker panel for outside systems. He found circuit breaker 1911-b, radar and sonar, and he easily reached out and popped it into the break position.

“Power down,” Ryan confirmed to Kendal.

“Roger, pulling the motherboard for the system. Stand by.”

Kendal reached down and pulled the damaged board from the access hole. He looked to make sure that Dugan was having no trouble pulling in the dish. Satisfied, he let the damaged circuit board float free. He reached into his bag and pulled the new motherboard from its protective antistatic covering, then slipped it inside just as the damaged telecommunications dish hit the hard body of Falcon 1.

“There we go. She looks good, skipper,” Dugan said, as he examined the highly complex dish up close. “Cable is in fine shape. A new bolt assembly ought to do the job.”

As Kendal connected the small electronics cable to the motherboard, he looked up and nodded his head. Before Dugan could start placing the dish back on its mount, his VOX system came to life.

“Breakers back on, Colonel. We have radar contact bearing 117. It’s big and coming right for us,” Ryan said, and then hurriedly read off the coordinates. Maggio says you two should move to the bottom side of Falcon 1. The object is traveling fast.”

Kendal looked at Dugan and gestured for him to put the dish in its place.

“Wire-tie it for now and we’ll come back to bolt it into place.”

“Roger, skipper,” he said. As he reached for a wire-tie in his pouch, the radio came alive again.

“Smaller debris is heading our way in front of the main object!” Ryan called out on VOX. “Thirteen-no, make that fifteen small targets.”

As Kendal looked forward, he saw what Ryan was picking up on radar. From his position it looked like an oxygen or water tank that had once been attached to the ESA craft Astral. The smaller pieces were part of the landing pad from its missing gear. It had shattered when the Astral had separated from its mother ship. Dugan never knew what hit him as the rubberized pad slammed into him at over 34,000 miles per hour. The landing pad and several of its restraining bolts hit Dugan in the backpack and helmet, sending him skidding off the slick skin of Falcon 1, pulling his cable tether taught as it sprung like a bow string when he was hit. As Kendal reached for Dugan, he saw the blood inside the lunar lander pilot’s helmet as it spread quickly in the oxygen-rich environment. The sight made the colonel lose his grip and Dugan went flying past. Kendal held on tightly to the bulkhead as the rest of the debris slammed into him.

Ryan pushed off from the main breaker panel and went to the aft window of Falcon, where he saw Kendal’s suit get punctured in three different places. He saw the venting of his suit’s atmosphere just as the tether holding Dugan close to the spacecraft snapped. Ryan watched in absolute horror as Dugan slipped out of view and then Kendal, who gagged for air that wasn’t there. Jason watched, his eyes widening as Kendal’s rubber-coated tether became taut and then snapped as the ESA oxygen tank from Astral not only hit the communications array mount but the spot where Kendal had been anchored. The commander quickly flew free of Falcon 1. Kendal smashed into the engine bell and the impact sent him spinning crazily off into space.

Ryan continued to stare out of the window in silence. The two men were so far beyond sight that he just stared at the spot where they had been a brief moment before.

“What’s happening?” Maggio asked loudly.

Ryan didn’t answer. He continued looking out the thick glass of the window.

“Ryan! Come on, man, what’s going on?” Maggio called out again.

“They’re gone,” he finally answered quietly.

“What do you mean, ‘They’re gone,’ Goddamn it?”

Ryan turned toward the command chair angrily.

“What do you think I mean? They’re gone, dead, adrift. What do you want me to say?”

Down below, Sarah heard everything that was happening.

“What do we do?” Maggio asked no one in particular.

“We continue with the mission,” Sarah said and released her safety harness.

“In case you didn’t notice, we just lost the mission commander and the LEM pilot,” Maggio called out, wanting to get out from behind the command seat.

Sarah floated up to the top deck and pulled herself into the access tunnel. She appeared a moment later inside the command module.

“You’ve just been promoted to LEM pilot, Maggio. I’m senior on the project in rank, so I’ll be taking command of the excursion team.”

Maggio looked at Sarah for the longest time.

“What mission? It’s over here, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, well, she’s senior above a bunch of junior grades and Army personnel,” Ryan said in a calm and steady voice. “If you can get us there, I’ll land us, and Sarah will find what it is we came for. Can you get us there?”

Maggio looked from Ryan to Sarah. The two people had been in the program less than a month, but both commanded authority through their voices and demeanor.

“Yes, I can get us there,” Maggio said, “But the real question here, flyboy, is whether you can get the personnel down to the lunar surface without killing every mother-lovin’ one of us?”

“If not, Lieutenant, you just may end up having an elementary school named after you.”

Maggio was silent when confronted with Ryan’s confidence.

“You have to admit, Maggio, the idea of a school being named after you is appealing, isn’t it?” Sarah eyed the new command module pilot.

“As a matter of fact, a school in El Paso is just waiting to have my name put on it. Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Sarah reached out and pulled a floating Ryan toward her.

“You be the one to tell Mendenhall,” she said.

“Hell, I’m asking him to be my copilot.”

An hour after the last shots fired at the battle for Columbus Hill, Jack and Tram eased themselves off the electric cart while still in front of the double steel doorways. Jack looked over at the gift shop that had never felt a tourist’s touch. He wondered if they had planned on Hitler visiting the mine after the war was over, or if reich schoolchildren would have been paraded in and allowed to buy such items as Nazi coffee mugs and pictures of the artifacts discovered inside the mine. Collins shook his head in wonderment at the arrogance he was staring at.

“Come on, smiley. Let’s follow along and see if we can find my friends.”

Tram had the now reloaded M-14 lying across his arm as he examined the small Buck Rogers spaceship in the window. He turned and looked at Jack with a curious stare.

“‘Private’ will do, Colonel,” he said, with no malice lacing his voice.

“I’ll be damned-I didn’t think you spoke English. Your sergeant didn’t say anything about it.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t asked,” Tram said as he moved toward the large steel doors.

“You actually sound like you spent time at Yale, at the very least,” Jack joked.

Tram turned and faced Jack. With a slight tilt of the head, he gestured for him to go through the doors in front of them.

“Actually, Colonel, it was UCLA.”

“Hmm,” Jack said. He slid by the small Vietnamese soldier and entered the mine.

When both men stood on the precipice overlooking the main gallery of the mine, neither could believe what they were seeing. The immenseness of the excavation was nearly overpowering. They saw the small electric cart far beneath them in front of the damaged and ancient plastic-looking enclosures. He saw the long forgotten roadway paved over either by the Nazis or someone more recently. The gallery was lit up like New York’s Grand Central Station and its brightness cast shadows in all directions from where the lights were anchored overhead.

“Well, your English is so good, try describing this in a letter back home,” Jack said. He placed his M-16 over his shoulder and started down the steep trail, following the tracks of the electric cart.

“‘Amazing’ is the word that comes to mind,” Tram said as he turned to follow Collins.

The two men couldn’t help but be made uneasy by the false interior breeze that caused the tattered remains of the Nazi banners and streamers to sway and ripple in the wind. It was just another glorious day in the land of National Socialism.

“The day we stop running into more surprises left by these people, I think that’s the day I’ll retire,” Jack said, intending for Tram neither to hear nor to answer.

“They were very industrious, but how many men and women did the SS kill to get this mine dug?”

Jack eyed the Vietnamese sniper as he walked. He wondered why it had taken so long for the private to say something. Now he had an opinion about everything.

As they progressed down the steep incline of the man-made ramp, Jack had a feeling he was being watched, but from where he couldn’t tell. He heard Tram click the safety off on the old M-14; evidently he was feeling the same thing himself.

Far in back of them, near the steel doors, a pair of eyes was indeed watching. The Mechanic held up his hand. His men were anxious to get free of the exposed roadway. They were soaked from their climb up the waterfall and their entrance through the underground river. They had lost one man, who had drowned when the river had taken its downhill course under rock. They then had to fight to get up the rock wall Collins and Everett and his men had fallen from the previous week.

As the Mechanic watched Jack and his smaller companion walk the inclined trail, he finally gave the order for his men to follow, instructing them that they must do so from a great distance as he suspected more Americans were inside already.

Since his previous visits to the mine had been only cursory, the Mechanic knew he would have to be led to the valuable cache of advanced weaponry that he knew was hidden here. Once that was accomplished, he would return to his native Saudi Arabia and sell the specifications for whatever he found. From McCabe’s and Rawlins’s descriptions he knew it would be worth heaven itself to his cause.

The Mechanic fell into line and followed his men as he watched the long-ago flags flap in the strange breeze that seemed to come from nowhere.

As Alice and Sebastian gently sat Garrison Lee on a rock outcropping, Niles examined one of the buildings. He tore a flap of skin from the two-story structure that had been pushed in millions of years before by an earth movement that had slammed it askew of its neighbor. The age was such that any material or organics left over after this disaster had long since vanished. As Niles felt the strange material, he was approached by Appleby.

“It’s a composite, perhaps nylon, maybe a plastic and nylon weave, but it’s really too strong for that,” the man from DARPA said. He joined Niles, who handed the piece of material over to Alice and Lee. “It will take a while to learn how some of the materials survived in their original form, while others petrified.”

“I can’t imagine the violence of the earth that crushed the life out of this place,” Ellenshaw said. He moved the M-16 to his shoulder and looked into one of the glassless windows of the damaged enclosure.

Niles looked around and noticed small plaques had been placed in several rocks lining the ancient thoroughfare of crushed and mangled buildings. The words were in German and had been etched in the bronze of the embedded plaques.

“What do they say, Sebastian?” Niles asked the German major, who was examining the stone and its writing.

“Site excavated 16 June 1939. No sign of habitation at this level.”

“This level? You mean there’s another one under here?” Ellenshaw asked. He rolled down the sleeves of his tan shirt due to the briskness of the false breeze swirling inside the ruins.

“There must be,” Appleby said, as he leaned over and picked up something that caught his eye. “Major, what do you make of this?” he asked. He held out a small object. “There’s more than one here.”

Sebastian Krell took the small item and examined it. He laughed at what he was holding, then looked down and saw several more of the small round objects on the rock-covered ground around his feet.

“It’s the base cap, detonation ball, and string for the Model 24 Stielhandgranate. ”

“I didn’t catch that,” Ellenshaw said as he reached down to pick up one of the strange objects.

“A hand grenade,” Lee said. He tried to make himself comfortable on a large rock as Alice slid the needle full of synthetic morphine into his right arm. “A Potato Masher. I’m sure you’ve seen them in war movies, Charlie,” Lee said with a smile. A horrified look came over Ellenshaw’s features and he dropped the small screw cap onto the ground. “But the cap covers are harmless.”

“Maybe they used them for blasting purposes,” Appleby said.

Sebastian looked around himself and closed his fist over the detonator cap cover.

“Possible, but why? I mean, there are so many adequate explosives, why use such a small device? The Model 24 didn’t even have a shrapnel charge.”

“The major’s right,” Lee finished as he rolled down his sleeve and nodded at Alice. “Why use them for blasting? That’s too inefficient. Our old friends the Nazis didn’t operate that way,”

“A mystery among many,” Sebastian said. He looked around the gallery at the taller structures. “These buildings, they remind me of field setups used by the army. Do you agree, Mr. Everett?”

Carl stepped out of the tilted and damaged structure not one person had seen him disappear into when they arrived.

“Yes, they do. It’s like these were temporary structures that housed troops until more substantial housing could be erected.”

“Is there anything interesting inside the building?” Alice asked as she closed and clasped the small medical bag.

Everett looked over at Alice and the senator as they waited for him to answer. He had a curious look on his face.

“You could say that. The Germans have everything documented and labeled inside. The flooring-which looks to be wood of some kind-is old and petrified, but still intact. There are several of these,” he said. He tossed an object toward Alice, who caught it and looked it over before handing it to Lee. “It has the same writing on it that was on the space suit.”

Lee looked at what amounted to an ancient can. It was empty of its long-ago contents, but it may have once contained food. Lee hefted it; it was far lighter than its modern-day equivalent.

“Okay, the Germans marked the trash in the garbage,” the professor from MIT said. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“That means they were pretty efficient at keeping this dig in pristine condition. Removing nothing from the dwellings, keeping everything as is for scientific study.”

Lee saw where Everett was going with this.

“So the Nazis insisted on accountability,” Sebastian said, as he took the can from Lee and examined it. “That’s true in every red tape society.”

“What’s missing in there, Captain?” Lee asked. He had begun to feel the pain-relieving effects of the morphine.

“There’s nothing. No tables, no chairs, no canned goods stored anywhere. No mess had been created when the cataclysm erupted around them. The closets are empty, the metal containers that held something at one time have nothing in them.”

“Are you suggesting that the beings who occupied this settlement weren’t here when the Andes started strutting their stuff?” Lee asked. He eased himself up from the rock.

“That’s what I’m saying. I looked at some of the plaques in front of the enclosures and they all list what was in them, but they fail to mention one thing.”

Lee patted Everett on the shoulder as if to say he was appreciative of his intelligence in the face of all the brainpower currently listening to him.

“No bodies of the enclosure’s inhabitants,” Garrison finished for Everett.

“Not only that, you’d better go and take a look at the side of the next enclosure,” Carl said as he turned and left.

The small group followed, feeling the emptiness of the giant mine far more than they had a few moments before. As Everett stopped, they saw he was gesturing upward at a sight that gave them all pause. Along a hundred feet of the next building’s wall, there were slashes in the material that looked as if some giant cat or something worse had attacked the composite material. The groupings of the slashes were in patterns of three. The rips were so long that it was as if whatever created the marks had punctured the material and then dragged great claws down the sides, exposing the interior to the outside elements.

“What in the world could have done that?” Appleby asked as he examined the edges of the ripped-apart and petrified material.

“If you’ll notice, most of the buildings are in the same shape. Whatever it was happened before the camp, or whatever it was, was destroyed by the earth movement,” said a familiar voice from behind them.

They all turned and saw Jack and the Vietnamese private as they eased themselves down from a long dead lava flow to the base of the building they were looking at.

Everett smiled, visibly relaxing for the first time since he had left the colonel to fight a battle he thought he should have been a part of. Jack was closest to Sebastian so he shook hands with him. He then walked over to Everett and shook his.

“So you made it, I see?” Carl said, relieved that his boss was still among the living.

“The president sent in the cavalry at the last minute-or at least Polish paratroopers.”

Everett smiled more broadly. “The times they are a’changin’.”

Niles took Jack’s hand and then Lee and Alice gave him a hug. Next was Charlie, but Jack held out his hand real fast before Ellenshaw could hug him. Pete smiled and nodded, but inside he was churning in total relief they hadn’t lost the colonel.

“You say you’re seeing the same kind of damage in other buildings?” Lee asked Jack.

“It looked…” Jack hesitated, “Hell, those marks looked… methodical to me.”

Ellenshaw was staring at the small Vietnamese sniper. He nodded his head toward him as he eased himself around the stern-looking Tram.

“Are you suggesting that the marks didn’t occur naturally when the ground erupted underneath these dwellings?”

“Hell, Doc, I don’t know,” Collins said. “But after all we’ve been through the past few years, I don’t assume anything that looks like that is a natural occurrence. I’m sorry, but those are some sort of claw marks.”

“This breeze,” Lee said, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s being generated someplace. I suggest we find out where, and then maybe we can find the place where the Germans found those artifacts.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack said, looking at his watch. “I suggest we start by looking down there,” he said, pointing toward the back of the steeply sloping gallery.

“Is there any word on the status of Dark Star 3?” Alice asked when she noticed Jack looking at his watch.

Collins looked down as the others started to move away.

“The president said the Johnson Space Center lost all contact with them at 0930.”

Alice said nothing. Instead, she just took his arm.

“They still have a visual on it, and it is under power. They’ve lost telemetry, so that means they’re on their own.”

It took close to three hours of steady downhill walking to get to the far end of the excavation. Every few feet Jack, Carl, and Sebastian, and even the Vietnamese Tram, looked down and saw expended shell casings and more detonator cap covers for the German grenades. During one rest stop they compared notes. There were several differing calibers of the expended rounds. Everything from 7.62 to 5.56 millimeter casings were found. They had all come to the conclusion that sometime in the forties there had been one hell of a firefight in the excavation.

As the unnatural breeze inside picked up, they began to hear a wailing sound. The noise was unnerving to all in the group. Jack knew it to be air being pushed through a small opening in the rear wall that they were fast approaching, but the eerie sound made him edgy nonetheless.

“It seems we would have learned our lesson by now about places like this,” Everett said, slowing to allow Niles, Alice, and the senator to catch up. Bringing up the rear of the group were Sebastian and Tram. Wedged in between were the four scientists, who continually scanned the surrounding rock strata and the support beams of steel that had been installed by the Germans.

“You would think,” Jack said, as he examined the dead end of solid stone ahead. “But what do you expect out of a couple of stupid lifers?”

“I hear that,” Carl said, as he used the butt of his M-16 to hammer the rock he was leaning against. “Well, that wind is coming from somewhere,” he said, “but it’s not here.”

“Jack, you may want to take a look at this,” Niles called out as he eased the senator down once more. The old man was looking like he was pretty near the end and Jack was concerned for him, but knew better than to call an extended halt.

Collins and Everett nimbly hopped from the perch they had taken a quarter of the way up the large wall of rock.

“You know,” Everett said, looking back at the spot where they had just been, “the more I look at that, the more I think that was a cave-in or a rock slide of some kind.”

“I was thinking the same thing, swabby,” Jack said as they approached Niles.

“What is it, Doc? We’ve hit a dead end here.”

“It’s back here,” Compton said as he turned and entered a small cove of raised stone.

As Jack and Everett followed, Pete, Ellenshaw, Appleby, and the MIT engineer, Dubois, sat next to Alice and Lee. All of them took long pulls of water from clear bottles they had brought with them. The lighting allowed Jack to see that they were all growing tired. As Collins waited for Tram and Sebastian to join them, he remembered to use his radio to check in. So far, every hour on the hour, he had reported to the guard command watching the mine entrance.

“Charlie One actual calling CQ, come in, over.”

“Charlie One actual, this is CQ. Captain Mark-Patton, over.”

“Roger, radio check,” Jack said, barely able to hear the British officer from two and half miles below the surface of the mountain.

“Signal has slipped down to thirty percent, but clear at the moment,” Mark-Patton said.

“Roger, talk again in an hour,” Jack said, “Charlie One actual out.”

Collins placed the radio back on his belt. He came to a complete stop, as did the others. The vibration came upon them out of the ground. It felt mechanical at first, but then they all could feel it in their inner ears and knew it to be sound. The sound and vibration stopped as Jack looked up. The sixty-five-foot electrical cords holding the lamps were swaying-not much, but they were moving. So far the breeze that had them chilled had not been enough to move the thick, rotting wiring of the lighting system installed in the thirties and forties. Collins looked back and saw that the others, Lee included, had felt it too. The whole event lasted the duration of Jack’s radio check, and ceased just as he terminated the call.

“That was interesting,” Everett said, looking up at the swaying lights.

“Not as interesting as this,” Niles said as he gestured to a flat area fronted by a large rock wall. There, lined up in neat rows stretching for a quarter mile to the right and left, and unseen if you stayed on the trail leading to the dead end, were what looked like graves. Each one had a marker, some larger than others.

Collins and Sebastian reached for their large flashlights and shone them on the first few markers. The lighting here was far dimmer than the rest of the excavation, being blocked by a large lava wall created many millions of years before.

“Unknown Soldier.” Sebastian read the German words from the first marker. “Waffen SS, 12 December 1944.”

Jack shone his light down the first row until it became too weak to carry further.

“Jesus, from what I can see, they were all buried within three days of each other,” Everett said, moving further down the line.

“What do you think, Mr. Director? Cave-in?” Jack asked Niles.

“From the looks of that wall of rock, that seems like a safe bet,” Niles said. He turned to face Collins. “At least so you would think. Then again, if you’re like me and the senator and have been picking up all these expended rounds on the cave floor, you might want to reevaluate that guess.”

“So you were looking too,” Sebastian said while he scanned more of the grave markers.

“Pretty hard to miss, Major,” Niles answered, brushing some of the dust off the stone markers. “They took the time to use machines to etch their service branch and date of death, but no names.”

“I estimate over a thousand graves. Four rows,” Everett said as he returned to the group. “The markers go all the way to the cave-in, or whatever it is.”

Collins walked with Niles toward the dead end of rock and dirt. He reached down and brought one of the fist-sized stones to his face and shone the flashlight on it.

“What is it, Jack?” Niles asked. He raised his head and looked around.

“This isn’t rock,” he said. He looked up at the massive fall. “It’s concrete. And look here-there’s a larger piece.” Jack kicked at a one-foot-by-two-foot chunk of white concrete.

“Maybe it was just landfill that the Germans threw in here.”

“Or maybe this was an entrance to another gallery. The sign back there said we had entered gallery number one, but we haven’t come across any others.”

“Good point, Jack,” Niles said, turning to reevaluate the mass of rock and concrete before him.

“Maybe this will shed some light on your speculation, Colonel Collins,” a voice said from behind them.

Jack and Niles turned to see the Vietnamese sniper, Tram, holding a large sample of stone out for them to see. The rock was ancient lava that had darker markings on it. Jack took the sample and turned the light on it.

“Maybe burn marks from the original lava flow,” Niles said.

Jack rubbed his thumb over the scorch marks and rubbed the soot between his thumb and fingers. He brought the mixture to his nose. Then he held his fingers out to Tram.

“Smell familiar, Private?” he asked.

Tram sniffed and raised his brows.

“Semtex, or something like it-maybe some sort of dry explosive. Not any kind of plastique.”

“Possibly something the German army or Waffen SS would use?”

“I’m not that familiar with World War II explosives, Colonel, so I will rely on your historical expertise,” Tram said.

“Handy little fella to have around, isn’t he?” Niles said as he watched the Vietnamese soldier head for the opening that led back to the trail.

Jack smiled; “You don’t know the half of it, Niles,” he answered, tossing the rock toward Carl. “What do you make of that?”

Everett smelled it, then actually tasted it. He looked at Jack.

“Cordite, some kind of explosive,” Everett said. He looked up at the blockage. “I guess we know now that the Germans brought this down to block the entrance to something.”

“Let’s see if we can get in there. Niles. Could you go back and get the senator and Alice to rest as best they can? I’ll get a detail down here with food and water and sleeping equipment. Maybe a medic to keep a closer eye on the… well, we may need a medic here anyway,” Jack said. He turned to face Everett and Sebastian. “Hopefully our Polish friends or SEALs brought some explosives along with them.” He looked at his watch. He frowned when he saw that he was past his self-imposed deadline.

“What time do you have, Jack?” Everett asked.

“ Dark Star 3 just entered the Moon’s orbit.”

The men all became silent as Jack walked over and sat down next to the first grave marker. He lay down his weapon and pulled the radio from his belt. As he pushed the transmit button and was about to make the call, he felt the strange vibration once again coming through the earthen floor. Then, as he lowered the radio, he heard the soft humming sound in his ears. When he released the transmit button, the sound and vibration ceased. Finally, too tired to think clearly, Jack made the call to CQ.

All around the dead end, the members of the search team felt the vibrations and internal sound increase, and actually seemed to move closer from what they knew now was the other side of the cave-in.

Everett, Sebastian, and Tram all looked from the wall of rock to their surroundings. They simultaneously concluded that they would get little sleep while they waited for their supplies to arrive.

“Come on, let’s see if there’s a back door to this place,” Everett said. He took one last look back at a very worried Jack Collins and knew exactly what he was thinking as he spoke to the command element outside.

“Sarah will make it, Jack.”