Several seconds passed in silence, then Jeff heard a low whistle, which gradually grew louder.
“They’re pumping air into the lock!” Joanne said in surprise.
“Then we can take off our helmets in a minute,” Castle said.
“Could also be mustard gas,” Green remarked.
“We can’t rule out that these aliens breathed a different atmosphere,” Irons said. “We’ll have to analyze the air first.”
The whistling noise had stopped. Fields rummaged around on the sled with the emergency equipment, found a container, and opened it. He took out a small, silver device with a handle: a multitester.
“I’ll start the analysis.”
Jeff pressed a button on the controls on his arm and looked at the HUD display on his combat suit. “Ten twenty-two hectopascals of external pressure,” he said.
“Tailor-made for us! It could be Earth,” Joanne sounded relieved.
“How long does the analysis take?” Irons asked.
Fields looked up. “Done. The atmosphere is breathable. A mix of seventy-eight percent nitrogen, twenty-one percent oxygen and one percent argon.”
“That’s almost exactly the same as on Earth,” Irons commented, without a trace of surprise in his voice. “Aerosols? Trace gases?”
“No aerosols. Very few trace gases. Just some carbon dioxide, methane, and ozone. And water in the form of unsaturated steam. The humidity is sixty percent at a temperature of seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit.”
“If there’s carbon dioxide here, then someone must have exhaled it,” Green said.
“Unless the atmosphere is artificially composed,” Irons said.
“But the resemblance to our atmosphere…” Joanne trailed off. “It’s as if they were expecting us.”
“Have you checked for microbes?” Irons asked.
“Yup. No microbes. The atmosphere is absolutely sterile. A military hospital would be proud of the purity level.”
“Right then,” Irons said curtly. He reached up for the neck ring and released the latch. Then he pushed the helmet back over his head and took a deep breath.
Jeff looked intently at his superior’s face, ready to react immediately if he started to discolor, or if he passed out. But Irons breathed calmly and evenly. After what seemed like an eternity he smiled, even if his smile was a little strained. “Smells kind of stale and musty.”
“Should we open our helmets, too?” Joanne asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
Jeff released the latch and flipped his helmet up. He took a cautious breath. The Major was right. The air did smell stale. As if they’d entered an apartment that hadn’t been properly aired in months. It was warm and very humid. There was also a faint whiff of something else he couldn’t put his finger on—something which was anything but pleasant. A little sweetish, but with a tangy edge that suggested decay. Not so much like old fish or rotten meat… more like exotic vegetables rotting in the sun. Very strange—and very alien.
By now, the others had also removed their visors. Jeff could tell by their puzzled faces and wrinkled noses that his shipmates were also trying to identify the smell.
“I don’t like this air,” Joanne said. “Smells like there are dozens of decomposing aliens on the other side of that door.”
“If they open the outer hatch now, we’re all dead,” Green said.
“Then why would they have opened the airlock in the first place?” Jeff retorted.
“Maybe they’re playing a game with us.”
“How do we get inside, anyway?” Owl asked.
As if an invisible listener had heard his question, the bulkhead retracted with a hiss. A gust of wind swept across Jeff’s face. Behind the opening, it was still dark. Their helmet lights were too weak to illuminate the apparently much larger space on the other side. Irons stooped over the equipment sled and found a battery-powered headlamp. He switched it on and stepped into the opening. Jeff came up beside him.
“Looks like a small hangar,” Irons said.
The Major was right. Black and yellow lines crisscrossed the ground in random patterns. The ceiling was about thirty feet above them. The room itself was empty, as if nobody had ever bothered to equip it. On the other side of the room was a large metal bulkhead. As Jeff looked around, he noticed that the room was gradually getting brighter. “They’re turning on a light!”
Irons switched off the headlamp. Jeff had been right. The room was illuminated by some kind of indirect light that was getting brighter all the time. It wasn’t clear where the light was coming from—it appeared to be coming from all directions at once and produced no shadows.
Irons stepped out of the lock chamber into the hangar-like room.
Jeff followed him. “It’s not that different from one of our stations.”
“Or a base on the moon or on another planet,” Irons agreed. “Except for that strange writing.”
Jeff headed for the opposite wall with the door. There was a window in the middle of the hatch. Beyond it was darkness. Beside the door was a text written in the strange cuneiform characters he had seen earlier. It looked as if it had been stenciled on the wall. It was written in block type. Jeff had no idea if this alien language was read from left to right or vice versa. None of the signs resembled the Latin alphabet.
There was a hissing noise behind him, and he swung round. The inner lock hatch had closed, just after Shorty and Mac had entered the hangar with the equipment sled. Fields examined the wall around the hatch. “I don’t see any controls,” he said. “If we wanted to get back out, I wouldn’t know how.”
“Maybe we should have posted someone outside,” Green said.
“And what good would that have done us?” Irons asked impatiently. “We would have been separated. As I said, we only have a chance of finding a solution to our problems in here. Not outside.”
Green’s grunt didn’t exactly express agreement, but Irons didn’t pursue the matter.
“At least there are no alien bodies,” Owl said brightly. “But the air in here reeks as bad as it did in the lock chamber.”
“And it’s just as warm,” Joanne added, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her gloved hand.
Jeff still couldn’t figure out whether this was a space station that had been flung out of orbit, or a giant spacecraft. They’d managed to get inside, but it was completely unclear what would happen next. He turned to the Major, who was frowning at the opposite door. “How should we proceed, Sir?”
It took a few seconds before Irons responded. Finally he returned Jeff’s gaze, but he seemed to look right through him. The already heavy rings under his eyes were darker than usual. For a moment Jeff was afraid Irons would collapse, and his stomach tightened at the thought. He had always been able to rely on the Major. Without his experience and instincts, they didn’t stand a chance. There was nobody who could replace Irons. Jeff, who was the most senior officer after the major, certainly didn’t feel up to the job.
But after a moment, Irons’ facial expressions hardened again, and his steel-blue eyes were as determined as they had been before. “We have more than enough time to evaluate our situation and check out our surroundings. First, we need to determine whether this artifact is actually abandoned.”
“You said that some kind of automated system probably opened the airlock.”
Irons nodded. “Yes, that’s what I think. And we have to find out if it’s possible to communicate with it.”
“But how?”
Irons shrugged. Then he took a deep breath. “Is anyone here?” His voice boomed through the room, causing Jeff to flinch. “Can anyone on this ship hear me?”
The others had all turned around to see what was going on. Castle looked at his commander as if he’d lost his mind. Then there was a tense silence and Jeff could hear his own heartbeat.