Atlantis: Devil's Sea (10 page)

Felix gave his brother a hand as they went to the indicated door.

“Good luck,” the major offered.

Pytor could hear his breathing inside the enclosed helmet. Sweat was already running down his back, and he knew it would get hotter. He almost laughed aloud at that thought: hotter. Soon he was going to be very hot indeed. The pack was heavy, and he had lost much strength in the last several months from the chemotherapy treatments. The doctors had given him two months at best, and they promised to be a very painful two months. Because of that, Pytor was actually grateful to be able to do this mission, to die doing something positive rather than wasting away in a hospital bed.

They reached the airlock, and Felix hit the button. A steel door slid up. Before Pytor stepped in, Felix wrapped his arms around his brother as well as he could, considering the pod his brother carried in addition to his air tank. They exchanged no words; everything that had needed to be said had already been discussed. Felix turned the valve on the oxygen tank, sending oxygen to his brother, then he stepped back. Pytor went into the lock, and Felix hit the bottom, closing the steel door.

Felix turned and walked toward the control to watch his brother conduct the mission.

Pytor flinched as the inner door opened. He knew with that simple opening he was now the walking dead. He laughed once more. He had been the walking dead before he entered here. He stepped through. It was strange; there was dirt under his feet, the former outside of Reactor Four. He walked across the small open space toward the entrance to the control room. The world thought that the entire core and building had been buried under the concrete poured from the helicopters in the weeks after the explosion. But the black triangle had hallowed out a space, refusing to allow the concrete to pass, and when the concrete dried, the entire reactor was in the midst of an open space that made up the Chernobyl gate. Whatever field the triangle had propagated had subsequently disappeared, as the robots had been able to go in.

Pytor knew the rest of the world wanted the other three reactors shut down, the entire place abandoned, but there were two reasons Chernobyl was still in business: one was the desperate need for the power, and the second was the need to monitor this space and the black triangle inside.

Pytor felt his skin tingle, and he wasn’t sure whether that was real or a product of his imagination. Could it be the radiation, slowly seeping through the suit, or could it be the barrier of the gate? If he was indeed inside the gate already. This gate was different from the others for some reason. Pytor had met with Professor Kolkov, the Russian expert on the gates, and the scientist had expressed his own uncertainty about why it was different.

Pytor didn’t care that it was different. He didn’t care about the science, Andrej had been the scientist amount the three brothers, and this thing had killed him. It was a matter of honor, an oath the three had sworn when Andrej had been the first to leave home, they would always be there for each other, and if anything happened to one, the others would revenge. Pytor had had to wait many years, but now he was taking the first step in that revenge. It would be up to Felix to complete it.

Pytor opened the door leading to the control center and stepped in. The skeletons littering the floor were the first things he noticed. He knelt in the center of the room and pulled a bunch of daisies from the top of the pack and placed them there. They had been given to him by Andrej’s widow.

Then he went to the heavy door that led to the reactor core. Slowly he unbolted it and swung it open. He was drenched in sweat, and the inside of the mask was beginning to fog up. Even the oxygen coming from the tank tasted strange.

He stepped into the core and saw the black triangle. Each side was fifteen feet long, and the entire thing was about ten feet high. Its composition was hard to make out, not appearing solid, but the sides were perfectly straight. It was almost as if the triangle was made of a thick, black liquid. Pytor approached and stopped just a few feet short of the side. He knew Felix was watching on the video monitor, so he turned and waved. He reached out with his hand. As the glove touched the black, it felt as if it were going into molasses. He pulled his hand back out and looked at it. No apparent change. With no hesitation, he stepped into the black and was swallowed up.

*****

“The second probe is transmitting,” Ahana announced.

“Linkage?” Nagoya asked as he looked over her shoulder.

“The transmission is propagating,” Ahana said as a red line on the screen began extending slowly toward the dot that represented the probe that had been taken into the Devil’s Sea gate. “Contact,” she said as the line met the dot.

The probes were preprogrammed to run through a variety of tests in contact with each other, and Nagoya stepped back to allow his people to accumulate the data.

*****

Major Pytor Shashenka was kneeling over the probe. He smiled as he saw the readout scroll through various programs, indicating it was working. Then he looked around once more. He was in the center of the triangle, the floor beneath him perfectly smooth, the air full of that thick yellowish gray fog, just as Kilkov had told him areas inside the gates on Earth appeared. He realized this was an anteroom to the real portal. The fog was so thick he couldn’t see the edge of the black triangle across from him.

He could feel the effects of the radiation now. His stomach was churning, his head pounding in pain. He was soaked in sweat. He vomited into his mask, fouling it. Bowing to the inevitable, he removed the mask. He knew he was shortening what little time he had left, but he saw no reason not to.

As the probe continued to work, he got up and walked around. His foot hit something, and he paused. Reaching down, he picked up the object. A bronze helmet with a chinstrap, the metal highly polished, he leather on the chinstrap oiled. A spasm passed through his body, and he collapsed to the floor next to the probe, the leather in his lap.

The air was foul almost oily. Pytor ran a hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat away. He placed the helmet on top of the probe. There were Lain numbers imprinted in the bronzed in the front. He squinted. XXV.

Most strange
, he thought before he passed out.

In front of him, a circle of black appeared, eclipsing down to the floor until it was six feet high and three feet wide.

*****

“We’ve got the Chernobyl probe!” Ahana announced. “Through the Devil’s Sea gate,” she added. “So there is a definite connection between the two on the other side.”

“Excellent,” Nagoya said. “Phase two is successful. Now it is time for phase three.”

“Which is?” Ahana wanted to know.

“Going into the gate itself and opening a portal.”

‘How do you propose to do that?” Ahana asked.

Instead of answering, Nagoya asked a question in turn. “What do you think of the physics of the gates now that you have this data?”

“I think the muon emissions are important,” Ahana said, “to understanding the gates.” She had the data gathered from the probes spread out on a large table and was checking it as she spoke.

Nagoya nodded. “Muons are part of the second family of fundamental particles. Most of what we are used to in our world is in the first family, consisting of electrons, up-quarks, and down-quarks. The second family consists of muons, charm quarks, and strange quarks. And all these things are not single points, according to string theory, but rather a tiny one-dimensional loop hat that is vibrating. That gives it several characteristics that allow us to merge relativity and quantum mechanics.”

Ahana considered that. “I understand what you are saying, but we cannot even see particles at that level. We only know they exist because of their effect, as evidence by the tank we are on top of.”

Nagoya nodded. “I know, but you don’t need to see something to manipulate it. Reverse what you just said. We know these basic particles exist because we can study their effect. Then why can’t we use an effect to manipulate the particles?”

He continued, “I think this is what the Shadow is doing and why the muons we detect are not decaying as quickly as we believe they should. Because the Shadow is using the muons and the quarks.” He held up a finger. “Power. That is the key. We know the Shadow likes to draw power from this side, whether it be in the form of radioactivity as it did at Chernobyl, or from the planet itself along the tectonic plates, one of the greatest, if slowest, powers on the planet. I think it uses the fault lines not just before attacking us but to draw power. That is what this is all about. And how many base forms of power are there?” he asked Ahana.

“There are four base forces in nature: gravity, electromagnetic, strong, and weak.”

“Correct.”

Ahana gave a slight smile. She viewed Nagoya as a father, and when he got in this mode, she felt a strong affection for him. It was how they had worked out many problems in the past, going to the elementary level and examining things from scratch.

“And the force particles for each?” Nagoya asked.

‘For electromagnetic it is the photon. Gravity…well, it’s postulated that there is a particle called the graviton but again, only because of effect, not that we’ve ever seen one. For strong, the particle is the gluon. And for weak, you have weak gauge bosons.”

“I think the Shadow can manipulate the strong and weak forces,” Nagoya said. “We can do so, but only crudely. A nuclear weapon explodes when we split atoms, and the strong forces are released. When uranium decays in a reactor, we are using weak forces. But what if you could manipulate strong and weak forces like we use electricity?”

“The power would be tremendous.” Ahana was beginning to get excited, too. Also, consider gravity. Very powerful, but we cannot manipulate it at all.”

“Correct,” Nagoya said. He held his hand up and let it drop to his side. “We fight it constantly. Think of the energy required to put a rocket into space. Something that weighs relatively little requires a tremendous expense of energy. Turn it around. Imagine the energy that is going the other way, all the time. But I do not think the Shadow can manipulate gravity. If so, there would be an inexhaustible supply anywhere in the universe. No.” he shook his head. “It is the strong and weak forces at the smallest level that the Shadow controls.

“Imagine then,” Nagoya’ voice was excited, “if one could manipulate those forces at the smallest levels, then apply the right focus to bring it to the visible universe! I think that is what the gates are. Now, the issue is, how do we use that?’

Ahana’s mind was racing. “The Shadow comes to our side and extends its environment to a certain extent into our world to tap power here. Would it not make sense that we could do the same to it? Go into their world and tap their power?”

“With what?” Nagoya asked.

Ahana pointed down at the superkamiokande that was below. “We’ve only used this to receive, never to transmit. The first probe proved that we can make contact with the other side through the portals. The Russian probe proved that the gates are connected on the other side. What if we develop a portable superkamiokande and take it to a gate and transmit using the data we’ve just picked up?”

Nagoya considered that. “That might work, but I doubt if we could focus enough power to open the gate.”

“We do what the Shadow does,” Ahana said.

“What do you mean?”

“We take power from the Shadow’s side like it’s taking power from our side and bring it to bear at the portal.”

“How?”

“We run an extension cord and plug in,” Ahana said.

*****

Pytor’s eyes hurt to open. It was as if his eyelids were crusted shut. With great effort, he opened them and blinked, trying to clear his vision. His entire body throbbed with pain.

The first thing he saw was a smooth, white face with no mouth or nose, just two red eyes staring at him. He looked down. The body of the creature in front of him was also encased in white, something that looked like plastic, but he could tell it wasn’t. A clock covered its shoulders. He was startled to note the thing as floating a few inches off the ground.

His arms were locked to his sides, and straps ran over his chest and legs, holding him in place on a vertical table. He struggled to move, but there was no give to the straps. The air was strange, even thicker than where he had just been. Beyond the creature was a cavern hewn out of black stone.

Looking to his right. Pytor saw a row of tables similar to the one he was strapped to. He cried out as he saw the condition of the poor souls on them. Many had been flayed, their skin gone, replaced by some sort of clear wrapping that glistened obscenely, revealing the muscles and internal organs beneath. Various leads went into the bodies, particularly the heads. Most of those he could see had had the top of the skulls neatly sliced off, and needles went into the exposed brains. The tops of the needles were small, glowing bulbs of various colors, the entire spectrum of the rainbow.

Piles of clothes lay near some of the bodies, and he could tell that some were the uniforms of American sailors. It was impossible, given the condition of the bodies, to tell nationalities. And they were alive. That was the worst part, as he watched the slow rise and fall of the chests of those nearest him.

He shifted his gaze back to the creature in front of him as it finally moved. Its left arm ending in a shining blade. The tip came forward to Pytor’s sternum. He looked own and could see ugly red splotches on his skin, blisters breaking though as the radiation ran its course.

Another creature appeared, floating smoothly, a group of needles in one claw, a small red tube with a glowing tip in the other. The tube was raised, and despite his high level of pain, Pytor screamed as a beam cut into the top of his head, neatly cutting through flesh and bone, stopping a millimeter from his brain. With dazed eyes, he saw the top of this skull tossed to the ground in front of him. He distantly felt pokes as the second creature inserted needles into his brain.

He cursed at the creature in Russian as the first one slid the blade into his chest, smoothly parting the skin. The radiation was taking too long, he realized. And the cancer… The creature stopped the blade as if reading his mind. It turned and faced the other. They stayed like that for several moments as if exchanging information, then the second disappeared behind him. It reappeared a moment later with a pair of inverted forceps.