“Okay, let’s head down the trunk to the end,” Berg said. “Maintain separation, et cetera.”
The major particle output seemed to come from the joining of the main tree to the trunk and fell off, sharply, as they headed to the very “bottom” of the tree. Reaching the end, Berg didn’t even pause the platoon, just sent them in a swoop to the very underside.
In that configuration, the shadows of the boards could be seen sweeping across the luminescent underside of the construction and it was the shadows, as much as anything, that pin-pointed a change in the surface of the thing.
“Sir…” Gunny Juda said. “Did you see…”
For just a moment as one of the shadows swept over the surface a line was revealed.
“Platoon, halt,” Berg said. “Let’s back up and see if we can get that again.”
By maneuvering the boards around it was eventually possible to get the same effect, showing a thin line and a slight change in surface texture on one portion of the underside.
“Gunny, send a point team.”
“Even if there’s a door there,” Corporal Sam Dupras complained, “I don’t see no controls.”
The Alpha team lance corporal rifleman was from Pladgette Parrish, Louisiana, and it showed in a thick Cajun accent.
“We just have to find the door,” Staff Sergeant Carr replied as the threesome closed on the line. “So can it.”
“I don’t know if that’s a door or just some sort of — ” Lance Corporal Robert Rucker started to say just as an the material of the surface dilated away, revealing an opening that was wide and deep enough to take all three boards. In fact, it looked as if it was tailored to take the threesome. Alas, with the flickering walls, the smooth, curved sides and the shadows of the boards, it looked not unlike a toothless mouth. “Urk.”
“Lieutenant Bergstresser,” Staff Sergeant Carr said. “We appear to have found a door.”
“Openings occur, apparently automatically, whenever someone approaches one of those lines, sir,” Berg said over the laser link to the ship. “We’ve traced the outline of the full area. It’s more than seven hundred meters wide, sir. Most of the bottom appears to open. It’s possible this thing is some sort of space dock.”
“Fascinating,” Lady Che-chee said, leading her dragonfly forward, then backing away as a tailored opening appeared. “And you haven’t entered?”
“We don’t have orders to, ma’am,” Eric replied. “In fact, we have orders not to.”
“Dragonflight, Second Platoon, this is CIC,” the ship’s CO said. “Dragonflight, maintain station. Marines, send one, repeat one member of your unit into one of the openings. Have him enter then attempt to exit and report.”
“Just opens right back up, sir…” Lance Corporal Kaijahano said. “I don’t know what happens if I go forward, though. Want me to find out?”
Kaijahano took a deep breath, then mentally sent his grav-board forward towards the inner wall of the compartment. As he did, his O2 sensor began blinking, indicating rising exterior oxygen levels and he felt himself pulled sideways from artificial gravity. Since he could see no vents in the smooth walls of the alien airlock, he hadn’t a clue where the O2 was coming from. But by the time his board just about touched the wall, the O2 pressure was actually higher than safe for humans. By the same token, the gravity was only about 80% earth normal. Lighter even than the artificial gravity of the Blade. He twisted his board to align and continued forward, slower than a walk.
Just before the board touched, the inner wall dilated to reveal a glowing tunnel that curved to the right. That would be to the closer wall of the tree from his current position. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but this was as far as he was supposed to go. He backed up and the door closed. Backing up more and the oxygen level dropped precipitously to death pressure, the outer door opened and he was back in space.
“Sir, all I gotta say is that whoever designed this thing knew what they were doing…”
“How are your consumables, Lieutenant?” Captain Zanella asked.
“We’re all at better then seventy percent, sir,” Berg replied. “If we’re not surveying the surface, we’ve got plenty. And I’ve been considering Dancer’s report from the airlock. That level of O2 pressure is dangerous for humans, but our suit systems can back it down easily enough. If that’s what the whole structure is like on the inside, sir, we can stay in there indefinitely from an air perspective. Well, as long as our scrubbers and power hold out, but that’s weeks, sir. Heck, we can actually resupply on Class O.”
“The problem, Lieutenant, is that you’re out of communication with the ship while anyone is in there,” the Marine CO replied. “We’re considering it on this end. Hold your position until you have further orders…”
“…send them in and have them look around,” Bill said. “Two-Gun’s smart and cautious. He’s the best guy I could think of to lead this.”
“The problem is that I’m feeling more and more like a monkey in a reactor compartment,” Captain Prael replied. “We’re pushing buttons and we have no clue what they do.”
“Sir, we were sent out to find technology,” Weaver argued. “This is technology beyond anything we expected. We need to find out what it is, what it does and if possible how to control it. Better yet, how to move it. As it is, it’s right in the region we can expect the Dreen to occupy in the next five years. The one thing I can guarantee is that Space Command does not want this thing, whatever it is, falling into Dreen hands.”
“Do you have any idea what it is or what it does?” the CO asked.
“No, sir, but we’ve barely scratched the surface!”
“I have to agree to that,” Prael said, frowning. “Captain Zanella, you’ve been mostly quiet during this debate.”
“I hate the idea of possibly losing a platoon, sir,” the Marine said. “But that’s what we’re here for, to check things out. There’s no reason for us to be on the ship if we’re not going to do our jobs. If you want my vote, sir, I vote for going in. Carefully. Send one team in, have them recon forward. If there is no negative effect, then send in the rest of the platoon. Give them a specified time frame to investigate. If they don’t report back? Then we have a problem.”
“Shiny, Captain,” Prael said. “That sounds like a plan.”
“This is as far as we got in the time we had, sir,” Staff Sergeant Carr said.
The tube had turned to the right in a long, smooth curve. Based on inertial guidance, they had to be near the edge of the trunk. However, Berg could see a second curve, back to the left, up ahead.
“Good job, Staff Sergeant,” the lieutenant said. “Gunny, rotate the point.”
“Whoa!” Corporal Shingleton gasped from his position fifty meters in the lead. There was another sharp turn there and whatever the corporal had seen had stopped him in what had been a smooth approach.
“Report, Corporal,” Sergeant Bae snapped. “ ‘Whoa’ is not a useful comment.”
“It’s… Sergeant, you gotta see this!”
“Now… that’s something.”
The corridor ended in a massive cavern which must have taken up most of the width of the trunk. There was still a walkway, though, a shimmering ribbon of nearly transluscent material that arched upwards towards the ceiling and followed the right-hand side of the immense enclosure.
Far below Berg could see more walkways and semi-transparent extensions out into the opening, like wings extending from the walls. There were dozens of them, some small, some very large. It took him about ten seconds to realize he was looking at…