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"It was uncovered during the excavation of the shaft. Along with well over a dozen others to date." Asher paused. "Our job when we started was clear-cut: dig as quickly as possible, within safety parameters, down toward the source of the signal. He gestured toward the locker. But then, when we began to discover those…well, things grew more complicated."
He sat down again, leaned in, and continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "They're remarkable, Peter-even more remarkable than they look. For one thing, they seem to be essentially indestructible. They're impervious to anything we've subjected them to in controlled environments. Some kinds of damage, like radiation, they absorb; others they reflect. And another thing: they seem to act as capacitors."
"Capacitors?" Crane repeated. "Like batteries?"
Asher nodded.
"What kind of power output?"
"We haven't been able to measure the top end. When we put conductors on them, they red-lined even our most powerful measuring devices."
"And what was the measurement?"
"One trillion watts."
"What? That little thing? Storing a thousand gigawatts' worth of energy?"
"You could put that in a car and it would provide enough electricity to power the vehicle for its lifetime-one hundred thousand miles. And there's something else." Asher reached into a pocket of his lab coat, pulled out a small manila envelope, and handed it to Crane.
Crane opened it and pulled out the sheet within. It was a computer printout, a repeating burst of short numbers:
"What's this?" he asked.
"That beam of light the marker's emitting? It's not continuous; it's actually pulsing, millions of times a second. The pulses are very regular: on and off."
"Ones and zeros. Digital."
"I believe so. It's what drives every computer on every desktop in the world. It's how neurons fire in our brains. It's a fundamental law of nature. This little device might be incredibly sophisticated, but why wouldn't it communicate digitally?" Asher tapped the sheet. "A sequence eighty bits long, repeating over and over. It's substantially shorter than the other message, by the way-the one transmitted from beneath the Moho, the one that was initially discovered."
"The other message, you say. So you think this pulse of light is trying to tell us something?"
"Yes I do-if we can decrypt it."
Crane raised the sheet. "May I keep this?"
Asher hesitated. "Very well. But don't show it to anybody."
Crane returned the sheet to the envelope, placed it in his desk. "These artifacts-"
"We call them markers. Or sentinels."
"Why sentinels?"
"Because it's almost as if they've been waiting, watching, all these years, to offer us something."
Crane thought for a moment. "So you're digging toward the source of the signal. What then?"
"There, too, things have gotten a little more complicated." Asher paused again. "Ultrasonic sensors we've lowered into the shaft…they've picked up evidence of something below the artifact field. A large object, buried even more deeply than the source of the signal."
"What kind of object?"
"We know it is torus shaped. We know it's extremely large-miles across. Beyond that, nothing."
Crane shook his head. "But you must have some theories."
"About what it's doing here? Certainly." Asher seemed a little more at ease now, like someone who'd unburdened himself of a painful truth. "After extensive discussion, the consensus among the scientists and the military here was that something has been left behind for humanity to discover, when sufficiently advanced."
"You mean, like a gift?"
"You could call it that. Who's to say which discoveries mankind is responsible for, and which were given us, one way or another? Who's to say, for example, that fire wasn't a gift from beyond the stars? Or iron? Or the know-how for building pyramids?"
"A gift from beyond the stars," Crane repeated dubiously.
"The Greeks believed fire came from the gods. Other peoples have similar myths. Maybe there's a pattern here? Once we had technology advanced enough to pick up a signal from beneath the Moho-once we could actually dig down to the beacon-we would be considered ready for the next leap forward."
"And so this buried object you're digging toward contains useful technology of some kind? Benevolent technology we can discover once we're ready to make use of it?"
"Exactly. Such as the technology that created the device I just showed you. Something that would help humanity to develop further, make that next leap."
There was a silence as Crane digested this.
"So what's the problem?" he asked at last.
"At first, I was as certain of all this as the rest. But lately I'm not so sure. See, everybody wants to believe there's something wonderful down there. My scientists are starry-eyed, dreaming of entire new frontiers of knowledge. The Navy spooks are drooling over the possibility of new technology that might be weaponized. But how can we be sure what's there? These markers we've found are like a trail of bread crumbs, promising tastier things. But until their signals are translated, we can't know what's really buried below them."
Asher wiped his brow again. "Then something happened. We'd always assumed, Peter, that the artifact was buried millions of years ago. But a couple of days back we discovered the burial was relatively recent-around A.D. 1400. That's when I realized that sightings, actual sightings, of the burial event might be part of the written record. So I sent a researcher around the region, visiting libraries, abbeys, universities-any place that might have eyewitness accounts. And at Grimwold Castle, an old monastery off the coast of Scotland, we found one." A dark look crossed his face. "It made for disturbing, frightening reading."
"And you're positive? That this account you found describes the actual burial, I mean."
"There's no way to be sure."
"Can I read it?"
"I'll get a copy to you. But the point is this: assuming it does describe the burial event, this eyewitness account is about as clear a go slow message as I can imagine."
Crane shrugged. "Makes sense. Especially since you haven't yet deciphered the digital signal."
"Except the Navy keeps moving ahead with greater and greater speed. Admiral Spartan and I don't see eye to eye on the matter. His worst fear is that other nations will learn of the discovery. He wants the object exposed and penetrated with all possible speed, and samples of whatever's inside retrieved for study."
"Does anybody else outside the classified sector know of this?"
"A few. Rumors circulate. Most suspect it's more than Atlantis." Abruptly, Asher rose and began pacing. "Anyway, there's another reason for caution. We know that the crust is composed of three layers-the sediment layer, the basement layer, and the oceanic layer. We've dug through the first two and are almost into the third and deepest layer. Below that is the Moho. The thing is, nobody really knows for certain what the Moho is, or what will happen when we hit it. We need to proceed with caution. But the more I've protested, the more I and the NOS have been marginalized. More military are arriving now, and they're no longer regular Navy. They're 'black ops'-and very scary."
"People like Korolis," Crane said.
At the name, a look of anger passed briefly over Asher's face. "Korolis requested them, and they're reporting directly to him. In any case, my fear is that Spartan may soon take full command of the operation, with Korolis as his enforcer. If I object too loudly, I might be relieved of my position, expelled from the station." Asher stopped pacing and stared at Crane. "And that's where you come in."