"I will try a shield," Arlen said. "I have an idea of the shape of it."
"It seems the only way, unless we risk moving ourselves along pressing more buttons," Nina agreed. "But let’s put ourselves behind another shield for safety."
There were at least convenient ridges to grip to assist the awkward business of cramming ourselves down one end of the transport. Nina held a shield over us, leaving a gap at one side for Arlen to work through. I could see a glimmer in the small gap to the outside, which became a larger glimmer as a narrow lan shield expanded like a balloon in the space. A creaking noise became a groan, and then an ear-splitting clang as the lower section of the door slammed downward to reveal waist-high gloom.
"Nice job," Silent said.
"It is versatile, this lan," Arlen commented. "We have only begun to learn."
"The lighting inside this thing is much brighter than outside," I noted. "I think you were right about the station running on some kind of drained or emergency power."
"Amelia says that someone’s just tried our airlock and there’s a rush from the half-dozen teams nearby to get inside it," Silent informed us. "Before that, someone had worked out how we sounded out the opening."
"Vanguard means showing everyone else the way," Nina said. "We can’t let it rush us, either. Until we know a little more about what’s in this area, everyone stay shields-up."
"And quiet," Imoenne added, unusually firmly.
After our deafening arrival, we were sure to have attracted the attention of anything in the area, but if we were quiet I guess we would have a better chance of hearing them coming to kill us.
Shields up, Arlen and Nina lowered themselves to better peer out into the gloom and, seeing nothing, gently sledded out.
"No movement, but it’s a lot messier down here," Nina said.
Messier was an understatement. We’d been brought to a chamber full of escaped liquids. Mostly water, I guessed, but with an admixture of darker stuff with a rainbow sheen, and occasional blobs of black, yellow and green. Everything we did stirred it up, and it swirled and collided, occasionally painting and then washing our suits and sleds whenever it wobbled around our shields. Deciding our best bet was to move quickly away from our point of arrival, we skidded slowly toward what seemed to be the primary exit for the area: a corridor lined with enormous arches.
"Could be some sort of official arrivals hall," Silent said.
"Hydroponics, I think," Nina said, gripping the column of the first arch as she looked within.
Once, it would have been a haven of green, presuming the withered plant life had been chlorophyll-based. Row upon curving row of twenty-metre high racks stretched far beyond our ability to see, but what plants remained were a dry brown, with occasional light-starved white stalks that suggested that there might be some fragments of life left in a system where liquid no longer flowed obediently along pipes, but instead hovered out of reach.
"Meandering through that looking for another elevator doesn’t seem a good option," Silent said. "The Forests of the Night, etcetera."
"Forest?" Arlen asked.
"Keep an ear out for tygers is what I’m saying." Silent manoeuvred his sled to bring himself near the ceiling of the corridor of arches. "If we travel up here, we’ll be more or less out of sight from the main area, and can maintain a shield below. Let’s push along in hopes that there’s an option that doesn’t involve wandering among these racks."
"If something does attack, either dome up, or try to trap it," Nina said.
I found it easiest to shift orientation so that the ceiling of the corridor became a wall for me to hug. We coasted, slow and cautious, and the only sounds I could hear in my suit was the tiny hum of impellers, and an occasional faint plashing, as if of a very confused ocean.
CRREEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGGGGG
Shock sent us into a little cascade of collisions. If it had been an attack, the time it took us to recover and shield up properly would have been fatal, but it took far less time to recognise the source of the sound.
"The transport," Nina said, her accompanying gasp of breath clearly audible. "It’s trying to move."
With a final, agonising screech of metal, it succeeded, beginning a loud ascent.
"Someone found the call button," Silent said. "If it makes it up and back, at least we’ll have warning of new arrivals."
"But by then, we will not be here," Arlen said. "For there is a way down." He accompanied this with a small piece of triumphal song, something I didn’t recognise.
In a world of gravity, we would be approaching a ramp leading down. At my current orientation, there was an opening on the wall opposite, to my left. This at least meant I had a good view along it, though the dim light didn’t show much more than additional blobs of floating liquid and the openings of corridors.
"Cross quickly down into it, then stop short of that first cross-passage," Nina said. "Once there, we can shield before and behind us and then review our options."
Trying to limit overuse of shields without becoming overconfident, we headed into a maze of intersections, ignoring doors, always seeking a passage down. Drifting liquid was replaced by a vast miscellany of items ranging from the mundane to the incalculable. Mugs. A jacket shaped for someone tall, narrow and probably humanoid. Silvery objects, all linked together into a snaking amoeba. The majority of doors were closed, but occasionally we passed one that had stopped short of sliding fully shut. Living quarters for very tall people.
"I’m beginning to suspect this place is called Mary Celeste," Silent commented, once we were around five levels down.
"Everything left where it floats, but there are no bodies," Arlen agreed. "But perhaps it is that they evacuated."
"And then didn’t come back?" Nina sounded worried. "Despite the crater, most of this place seems intact, so why was it abandoned?"
"T-virus in the air system," I suggested, less lightly than I’d intended. The prospect of space zombies was not entertaining just now.
"Whoever they were, they had Spartan tastes," Silent commented, ignoring zombie prospects. "I’ve seen the occasional script or symbol—directional signs, I assume—but no decorative work, or advertising, or anything of that sort."
"Military vessel?" I said.
"It could be," Nina said. "Although we may very well be surrounded by a kaleidoscope on a spectrum we can’t see. Or scent decorations. We should remember that this isn’t a human vessel."
"Bio, though. Lan-using Bios, in Earth’s system, before the rise of The Synergis." Silent caught at a floating object and displayed a four-fingered work glove. "Perhaps it was humans who put that crater in this place."
"The Cycogs definitely skip over the time between Now and The Synergis," I agreed. "Maybe we’re going to get a big dose of major plotline along with our retrieval mission. Who shattered the moon, who drowned the Earth, all that."