The Rock

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.

A sudden snap caught his attention and he whirled, hand reaching down for the pistol on his hip. He caught the last of the black Wall fading into nothingness. Then just as quickly it was back, hanging there, shimmering.

One thing he knew for sure-they weren't in Tunguska.

"Where do you think we are?" His words were muffled by the thick air and swayed about by a skittish wind, a strange feeling in what his senses told him was an enclosed place. The place felt old and abandoned, with a thin layer of dust covering the floor, which appeared to be smoothly cut black rock.

Levy had put a hand over her eyes, trying to keep the grainy dirt from blowing in them as she peered about. "We're there."

"Which is where?" Hawkins repeated.

"This is where the Makers are from."

"The Makers?" Hawkins asked.

"Of the Wall."

"But where exactly is here?" Hawkins wanted to know. He'd traveled extensively throughout his military career and this place bothered him deeply, as it didn't fit in his known catalogue of locations and climates. Underlying all that was the inherently disturbing fact that the air simply didn't feel right as it ran across his skin.

"We're not on Earth," Levy quietly replied.

"How do you know that?" Hawkins snapped.

Levy simply looked at him. "Do you feel like you're on Earth?"

Hawkins didn't respond to that. "How can we breathe, then?"

"Because they wouldn't have said come if we couldn't."

Hawkins frowned. "Who said come?"

"The Makers."

Hawkins tried to control his emotions. "Who are the Makers?"

Levy met his eyes again. "I don't know. They told me to come and I have." Hawkins took a deep breath. "What do you think is going to happen?"

Levy shook her head, her eyes bewildered behind the thick glasses. "I don't know. I just had to act, after seeing your man come through and thinking of those who have died. It is all so foolish and terrible that men should die like that. We put the best of ourselves — our heroism, our intelligence-into the worst of ourselves." She shook her head. "I didn't expect you to join me."

"I didn't either," Hawkins muttered, looking about cautiously.

Levy didn't bother replying to that remark. She was staring off into the distance. "Look!"

Hawkins looked in the direction she was pointing and then shifted his eyes in small arcs, coming back toward their position, and spotted what Levy was pointing at. There were four figures moving among several of the large objects that Hawkins assumed were some sort of machinery, about eight hundred meters away, moving off toward the light.

Hawkins instinctively grabbed Levy and pulled her to the ground. The figures were out of sight now, behind something. Hawkins thought furiously. He hadn't been able to see that well through all the blowing grit and darkness, but the four had appeared to have human form. "Let's go back," he suggested.

Levy sat up and regarded him curiously. "Back where?"

"Back to the Rock."

"How?" she asked.

Hawkins jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Through the Wall."

Levy shook her head. "We don't know where we'd end up if we went through again."

"But we came out here," Hawkins argued.

"Yes," Levy acknowledged, "but your man went through in Tunguska and came out at the Rock. We went through at the Rock and came out here. I don't think there is a direct one-to-one linear connection among these Walls. You saw it disappear and come back-what if that was some sort of realignment and it now has a different connection?

"Someone or something is controlling these Walls. We might go through here and end up someplace where we can't breathe. Or at least not without equipment."

Hawkins sat up himself. She had a point. If they weren't on Earth, then this was totally out of his scope of reality. If they were on Earth, then the odds were those four figures out there might have some answers. He stood. "Let's go."

Levy didn't ask where this time, she simply joined him and they moved out in the direction of the figures. Hawkins wished he'd been better prepared as he flipped open the cover on his hip holster. He had the 9mm but that was it, other than a survival knife strapped inside his shirt in a shoulder sheath.

He led them among the machinery, some of which hummed with power, crossing open areas only when necessary and then by keeping low and moving quickly. He caught a glimpse of the four figures as they crossed what appeared to be a wide-open thoroughfare among the machines. They were now less than four hundred meters away.

Definitely two arms and two legs on each, which comforted Hawkins somewhat. They were wearing helmets and dark full-body suits. One thing he had definitely noticed were the weapons in the hands of each one of the figures. They were nothing he'd seen before, but he had no doubt that they were weapons-they were as long as an M16 and the way the figures handled them, ends pointing out, left little question as to their function.

Hawkins slithered to the edge of the next machine on his stomach, Levy crawling up beside him. Looking ahead, he could see two of the figures about eighty meters ahead, halted and silhouetted against the light source, which appeared to be no closer. He wished he had a pair of binoculars.

"They look human," Levy whispered.

Where were the other two? Hawkins thought. His instincts were on fire. "Let's get out of here," he ordered, grabbing Levy by the arm. Turning, he froze, looking into two wicked-looking large-bore muzzles. Hawkins looked from the muzzles to the heads-the faces were hidden behind tinted visors but just above those faceplates was something that confirmed what Hawkins had been fearing. Each figure had a name stenciled there in Cyrillic writing.

"Nyet strelyat,” Hawkins yelled, moving his hands away from his holster and getting to his feet.

One gestured with the weapon at Hawkins's holster. Using his left hand he unsnapped the belt and thigh catch, letting it drop to the ground and then kicking it toward the two. One picked it up and slipped it into a pack. The two figures inclined their helmets slightly at each other, as if exchanging an unseen glance. Hawkins assumed they were speaking on a com-link. He turned slightly as the other two appeared from behind and joined their partners. The four stood together, ten feet away, regarding Hawkins and Levy. He desperately wished he could hear what they were saying on their radio.

He was surprised when a voice echoed out of a speaker on one of the men's helmets, speaking unaccented English. "You have no trouble breathing?"

Hawkins relaxed slightly. That simple question told him a great deal about the present situation. "Nyet."

"You can speak English, Major Hawkins," the man replied, gesturing at the name strip on his uniform. "I have heard of you, although we did not know what you looked like." The man lifted the shaded visor and a leathery face peered out the clear plastic at the two of them. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Tuskin of the Russian Army. You are either very brave or very foolish to be here so poorly equipped. Or perhaps you know something about all this"-the weapon made a small arc-"that we do not know?"

Hawkins shrugged. "I was about to ask you the same question."

Tuskin's face showed no emotion. "What about your man who went through the portal in Tunguska? Do you not know of him?"

Hawkins hesitated, not sure how much information to divulge. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Tuskin shrugged. "Then I suppose I ought to just kill you both right now and continue on with my mission. We know those two bodies we have in Tunguska are American. We can't prove it, and the politicians don't want to make a fuss, but I know. That's good enough for me."

Hawkins could understand Tuskin's thought process. He'd be saying the same thing if he were on the delivering end of the weapon and Ayers Rock had been infiltrated by an obviously well-trained Russian team.

Tuskin shifted his gaze to Levy. "Who are you?"

She answered without hesitation. "Debra Levy."

"What are you?"

"I am a physicist."

Tuskin showed some surprise for the first time, looking back at Hawkins as if trying to figure out what the two of them were doing here, wherever here was.

"Do you have to keep pointing those guns at us?" Levy continued.

"Your major is a very dangerous man, if all I have heard about him is true," Tuskin answered, but he lowered his muzzle, his men reluctantly following suit. The move surprised Hawkins.

Levy gestured back the way they'd come. "Did you come out the same Wall we did?"

Tuskin frowned. "Wall? You mean the portal?"

Levy nodded. He pointed past the massive jumble of machines to the opposite wall. "No. We came out back there." Tuskin regarded the two of them for a long minute. "Are you saying you are not responsible for all this?"

Levy shook her head. "No."

Tuskin looked at Hawkins. "I almost believe that, because I do not think you would be here so ill prepared if you knew what was happening. How did you get here?"

Before Hawkins could stop her, Levy answered. "I went through the portal in Ayers Rock and Major Hawkins tried to stop me and ended up here with me."

"Ah! So there is one in Australia! We thought that's what you might be digging for after we intercepted the transmission and then saw the imagery. So, if I am to believe you, then you do not know where we are either?"

Hawkins shook his head. "I've never seen this place before."

"You have lied to me once already. Why should I believe anything you say?" Tuskin asked.

"All right," Hawkins acknowledged, accepting the strangeness of the situation. If this was a Russian setup, it was by far the most complicated and sophisticated he'd ever imagined. "Those were my men. The one who escaped and went through the Tunguska portal, as you call it, came out in Ayers Rock."

Tuskin shook his head. "How can that be? We went through the Tunguska portal over an hour ago and we ended up here."

Hawkins spread his hands. "We went through the Ayers Rock portal fifteen minutes ago and ended up here."

Tuskin looked worried for the first time and Hawkins could understand his consternation. The Russian was realizing that perhaps he could not simply return through the portal he'd come out of and end up back in Tunguska. It must have taken extreme bravery for him to bring his men through the portal in the first place-that or a very strict order to do so.

Hawkins was about to say something when a distant noise caught his attention. It was a hissing sound, almost like a steam jet, and it appeared to be coming closer. Tuskin heard it too. He suddenly turned and his three men deployed in a defensive line, facing the noise.

With a great blast of dust a large airborne vehicle appeared, hovering over the nearest machinery and clearing it. The vehicle's four large thrusters pointed to the ground as it slowly settled down and came to a halt ten meters in front of them.

Tuskin's men stood there, pointing their rifles at the dull gray sides of the craft. It was fifty feet long by twenty wide, flat on the bottom except for the thrusters, with the sides sloping up to a slightly rounded roof. The front was blunted, with no apparent cockpit, although a wicked-looking barrel mounted on three arms protruded from above the front-obviously a weapon of some sort. It wasn't pointing at them, but Hawkins had no doubt that whoever or whatever was inside could readily make up that deficiency. He also had little doubt that Tuskin's rifles would probably have little effect on this craft. The dull sheen of the metal sides had that same tough, unyielding look as the armor on a main battle tank.

Obviously, Tuskin was thinking the same thing, too, because his men lowered their weapons for the second time. He looked over his shoulder at Hawkins. "Any suggestions, Major?"

"No, Colonel."

The weapons swung up immediately as a crack appeared on the nearer side of the craft. A section of metal folded down to the ground, making a ramp. A low red glow pulsed out of the inside. The tableau stayed frozen for a long minute and it was Levy who broke the spell. "I suggest we go on board, since it seems no one is coming out. I think this is our ride."

Hawkins started forward, only to come to an abrupt halt as Tuskin swung his weapon around at him. "How do I know this is not a trap set up by you to catch me and my men?"

Hawkins smiled grimly. "How do we know it's not a trap set for all of us?" He continued toward the craft, past Tuskin. Glancing over his shoulder, Hawkins watched the Russian consider the situation and then bark orders into his radio. With one of his men he headed for the ramp behind Hawkins and Levy. The other two Russians held their position on the rock floor.

The inside of the craft consisted of benches all along the walls, facing inward. The front was blocked off-if there was a pilot, he, or it, was behind that wall. Hawkins settled down on the bench, Levy at his side. Tuskin walked up to the front and studied the bulkhead, looking for a door. As he was doing that, the ramp picked up without a noise and slid back into place, closing them off from the world outside.

Tuskin stumbled slightly as the craft lifted and then banked hard to the right. There was hardly any sound inside from the thrusters underneath, and Hawkins briefly allowed his mind to wonder what was propelling them. He'd been on Hovercraft, but this was different. He certainly didn't want to waste any brainpower guessing where they were going or what they might run into. Since coming through the portal he'd taken things one step at a time, and even then he'd been overwhelmed by events.

He glanced across the compartment at the Russian officer. Tuskin was seated uncomfortably on the far bench, his headgear still tightly in place. Hawkins recognized the cylinder on the man's back as some sort of rebreather-lighter and easier to carry than oxygen. Despite Levy's and his apparent good health Tuskin was obviously not going to trust himself to the strange atmosphere. Hawkins didn't blame him-for all they knew, there was some slow-acting particle in the air that might have already passed a sentence of death on the unprotected.

That train of thought was interrupted as the craft settled with a slight thud and the thin whine of the thrusters was silenced. The ramp folded out again and Hawkins stood quickly, looking out. He brushed past the hesitant Russians and stepped down to the ground. They were inside a smaller room off the large open area-he could see the ceiling about fifty feet above, and the walls were eighty meters away on the near sides. There were two other craft similar to the one they had just ridden in parked nearby, but no sign of life.

A door on the nearest wall slid open. Hawkins glanced at Levy, who started forward without a word. Hawkins followed and Tuskin and his trooper brought up the rear.

They entered a twenty-foot-by-twenty room. The door slid shut and the floor practically jumped from beneath their feet as the room hurtled downward. Within ten seconds the process reversed and Hawkins's knees almost buckled as they rapidly decelerated and the elevator came to a halt.

The door slid open, leading to a small room with eight chairs set in a row facing a raised platform with a large flat white surface. In front of each chair was a curved arm, rising from the floor, looking like the equipment tray a dentist uses, except thicker, with two openings in it, each about four inches across and spaced shoulder width apart.

The elevator door shut just as silently and quickly as it had opened. Tuskin was nervously fingering his rifle, the cold steel giving him scant comfort.

"Well, we know they've got to be similar in size to us," Hawkins observed, his words sounding abnormally loud in the room.

"Why?" Tuskin asked.

Hawkins pointed at the chairs. "They're the right size."

"They could have specially made those for us," Levy observed.

"The benches in the craft were the right size also," Hawkins continued. "I doubt they built those just for us."

Levy was surprised at that; she was accustomed to being the knowledgeable one. "You're probably right." She looked up at the ceiling. "How far underground do you think we are?"

Hawkins shrugged. "A long way."

"Why do they want us?" Tuskin asked.

The light in the room dimmed. The arms on the front of the chairs swung out, leaving the chairs invitingly open. A dim red glow emanated from the holes in the arms.

"What do you think?" Hawkins said, his voice unconsciously dropping to a whisper.

"I think we should sit," Levy said, and she did just that, settling into one of the center seats. As soon as she had settled down, the arm swung back in. Levy looked at it for a second and then extended her hands, one into each hole.

Hawkins looked at Tuskin, who shrugged and took a seat. Hawkins followed suit. As soon as he sat down, the arm swung back in over his lap. He extended his hands into the holes. He felt a slight crackle of static as his fingers penetrated into the red glow.

Hawkins felt a calmness settle over him. It was a feeling he was used to. The worst part of any combat mission for him had always been the preparation and the waiting. Once things started happening, he'd always felt strangely calm and had a sense that time slowed down and everything was moving in slow motion.

The room went totally dark and a single point of light appeared directly ahead, just in front of the white wall, hovering in the air. Hawkins felt something prick the back of his right hand and he tried jerking it away, but neither hand would move. He no longer had control of them. He heard a startled yell in Russian and assumed that Tuskin or the other Russian had just experienced the same thing he had.

He felt a coppery taste in his mouth and his vision blurred for a brief second and was clear again. Hawkins blinked, still focusing on the white point of light, the only thing he could see. He suddenly realized he couldn’t hear anything — there was a deep, echoing silence in his ears, as if he’d put on an expensive pair of stereo headphones but no sound was coming out them.

Taking a deep breath, Hawkins settled back against the chair, waiting for whatever was coming, his eyes focused on the white point of light.