Engines Of God

"Twenty thousand years."

"Which means what? That this thing is older than that?" He squinted out the window. "I don't believe it."

"Why not?" said Carson. "You've already said this thing is old."

"But not that old," replied Sill.

Hutch didn't believe it either. But she was tired thinking about it. They needed to wait until they had more information.

The shuttle glided past long rows of empty windows. She glanced at George, entranced by the view. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

He seemed far away. "How lucky I've been," he said. "I got an assignment with Henry right out of the box. Most of the guys in my class wound up working on reclamation projects in Peru and North Africa. But I got to see the Temple. I was there when most of the major discoveries were made. Now I'm here—"

Jake's voice broke in: "Coming up on the front door."

Truscott surveyed her passengers. "Let's go," she said.

They'd picked out an open hatch more or less at random. The station's red skin moved slowly past the viewpanels. Hutch had just begun to check her equipment when Jake gasped.

"What's wrong?" Sill asked.

"The i

"No seal," said Maggie. The station was exposed to vacuum.

"Can we get a picture?" demanded Sill. "That doesn't make sense. Airlocks are always designed to prevent anyone from being able to open both doors at once. Because if you do, you die. Maybe everyone dies."

"Someone must have overridden the safety mechanism," said Hutch. She looked toward Carson. "I wonder if ail the open hatches are like this?"

The shuttle nosed into lockdown position. Meter-long extensors, equipped with magnetic couplers, had been added for this flight. Now Jake extended them. When he was satisfied both were in contact, he activated the power. A mild jar ran through the craft. "We're in business," he said.

He sealed off the cockpit while his passengers buckled on Flickinger harnesses, stepped into magnetic boots, and checked breathers. When they were ready, he depressurized their cabin and the cargo bay. Sill opened the door at the rear of the cabin and led the way into the cargo section, where he distributed portable sca

He strapped one to his side in an easy, familiar motion, and held the other out to Carson. Carson took it, checked it expertly, and put it on.

Sill produced about thirty meters of cable. "We'll string a tether out to the station's hatch. Lock onto it when you go. Everything's turning, so if you get thrown off, we might not get you back." He glanced around to assure himself that energy fields were all active. "Director," he said, "would you like to do the honors?"

Truscott declined, and looked at Carson. "Frank—?"

And Carson, in the spirit of the proceeding, turned it over to Maggie. "She got us here," he said.

Maggie nodded appreciatively. "Thanks," she said. They opened the doors, and the derelict's surface curved past within arm's length. It was pocked and scarred. Maggie reached out, and touched it. First contact.

"If you like," Hutch told Carson, "I'll set up the line."

He nodded, and she pushed through the door.

"Careful," whispered Sill.

Hutch's momentum carried her across to the station's hull. She put both boots down on its metal skin, and looked for the hatch.

Above. About ten meters.

Sill clipped the cable to a magnetic clamp, secured the clamp to the hull of the shuttle. Then he passed the line and a second clamp to Hutch. She snapped the line to her belt and started toward the hatch. Her perspective shifted: the deck of the cargo hold, which had been "down," rotated 90

degrees. Her stomach lurched, and she closed her eyes to let the feeling pass. The trick now was to focus on the derelict. Steady it. Make herself believe it was stationary. Forget the shuttle, which was now vertical. The sky moved around her, but she concentrated on the hatch.

The airlock was big enough to accommodate a small truck. The i

Hutch warned her about keeping her eyes on the hull. She nodded, and tied onto the cable. But she had difficulty from the start, and Hutch had to go get her. When they got back to the airlock, she helped her inside, where the environment was less upsetting. "You okay?" she asked.

Maggie crumpled into a ball. In a weak voice she reassured her rescuer.

"I hope this is worth it," Hutch said. "It is," Maggie said feebly.

They came over one by one. The sunlight was strong, and everyone used filters. They climbed rapidly into the lock, anxious to gain the security of an enclosed space.

The i

"Maybe they left the airlock open," said George, "to preserve the interior. If they really wanted to maintain this as a memorial, I don't know a better way. Let the vacuum in, and nothing will deteriorate."

Janet was fascinated by the boot. "They were big, weren't they?"

Carpeting still covered the deck. Passageways that dwarfed even George opened off either end of the chamber. They were lined by windows on one side and closed doors on the other. The doors were quite large, possibly four by two meters.

When Hutch, who was the last one through the airlock, caught up with them, they were examining the equipment. George thought he recognized some of it—"this is a recharger, no question" — and Maggie had already begun to collect symbols. Carson picked a passageway at random and moved into it.

None of the doors yielded to gentle pressure, and they would not of course break in, short of necessity. The outer bulkhead consisted mostly of windows. Outside, they could see the sun and the shuttle. One of the windows had been punctured, and they found a corresponding hole a couple of centimeters wide in the opposite deck. "Meteor," said George.

They clicked along awkwardly in their magnetic shoes, staying together, not talking much, moving like a troop of children through strange territory. Hutch noted a vibration in the bulkhead. "Something's going on," she said.

It was like a slow pulse.

"Power?" asked Truscott.

George shook his head. "I don't think so."

More deliberately now, they advanced. The sun moved past the windows and out of sight. The corridor darkened.

Sill produced a lamp and switched it on.

The heartbeat persisted. Grew stronger.

The planet rose and flooded the passageway with reflected light. Its oceans were bright and cool beneath broad clouds.

Ahead, around the curve, something moved.

Rose. And fell.

A door. It was twisted on a lower hinge, but still co

They looked through the doorway into another, smaller chamber. A crosspiece set at eye level resolved itself into a rectangular table, surrounded by eight chairs of gargantuan dimensions. The chairs were padded (or had been: everything was rock-hard now). Hutch entered, feeling like a four year old. She stood on tiptoe and directed her lamplight across the tabletop. It was bare.

George had a better angle. "There are insets," he said. He tried to open one, but it stayed fast. "Don't know," he said.

The furniture was locked in place. "It looks like a conference room," said Janet.