The Next Continent (55 page)

For a moment Sohya doubted his ears. “In the shadow zone?

How? The sun is on the far side of the mirrors. They can't send light down here.”

“Unfortunately they can, if the heliostats are tipped at the correct angle. The output is limited but still strong enough to kill you if you get in the way.”

“But what's the point?”

“It's some sort of experiment. They didn't let us in on it. The problem is we can't contact them.”

“Hold that thought, Yamagiwa. I'd better look outside.” Sohya unplugged the comm cable, motioned to Tae to stay put, and ran back up the shaft. He was more irritated than worried.
Liberty Island. Great timing, guys.

The shaft door was closed. This
was
strange. Sohya was certain he'd left it open. It wasn't there to keep anyone out; it was to keep the shaft clear if the cut next to it collapsed. The up-and-over design was easy to open even if the frame was pinched by rubble. In the open position, it gave the entrance some protection against falling rock. Now it was closed. Had the wall above it caved in?

He felt a spike of fear but suppressed it immediately; panic would only make clear thinking harder. Liberty Island and Sixth Continent could send all the help they needed. If he called for assistance, someone would arrive in half an hour at most. If he did nothing, someone would come anyway. The only question was whether he could open the door himself.

Touching it with his glove was out of the question; in a few seconds, the cold would make even the tough covering of his gloves brittle enough to fracture when he moved his hands. One part of his suit could stand up to the cold: his insulated boots. Sohya gave the door a kick.

What happened next was a blur. He was thrown backward by a force that felt like some wild beast suddenly freed from its cage. He slid a short distance across the frozen regolith, but in an instant his reflexes put him back on his feet. He had no idea what had just happened.

The door was closed again. Sohya stared at it, dazed, and tried to remember. Some sort of blinding light had pierced his visor. For an instant, the door had opened wide. A gauzy substance, like a lace curtain, had been undulating outside. Then it had rushed toward him and knocked him off his feet.

Sohya had no desire to open that door again. He backed away as if it were the only thing between him and some wrathful spirit. He ran back into the vault. Tae was still standing there, looking at the fibers in the walls as if nothing had happened. Sohya plugged his cable in. She noticed him and asked, “Did you see anything?”

He ignored her. “Control, emergency! Something's happening outside the vault, some kind of energy release. We're trapped!”

“Aomine! Johnson confirms Liberty is running a large-scale heating experiment in the crater. They claim they had no advance notice either.”

Sohya's and Yamagiwa's shouting overlapped. After a pause, Yamagiwa said, “What happened?”

“I saw something outside, a gas or maybe a vapor. It blew me off my feet as soon as the door opened.”

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. The door seems to be keeping whatever is out there from entering the vault. What is it?”

Suddenly Sohya thought it might be better to disconnect Tae's cable. He wasn't sure he wanted her to hear what Yamagiwa was about to say. He reached for it, but she stared at him and shook her head.

“Ground zero for the experiment is right outside the vault. They've got the heliostats focused on the notch we made in the permafrost. It's the only place in the crater where there's a goodsized vertical cross section exposing part of the ENG. The solar energy is releasing huge amounts of vapor from the permafrost. Don't go outside for any reason.”

“What do you mean? Tell the Americans to terminate the experiment!”

“That's what I tried to tell you. They're not responding. There was an observation team in the crater, but they've disappeared.”

“The rover that was leaving when we entered the crater,” murmured Tae.

Sohya's mind was racing, trying to derive a course of action from the information hitting him. “Then…override the controls and turn the mirrors away. Or send someone up the rim and redirect them manually.”

“We can't go anywhere. We're bottled up here. There's a solar flare warning!”

“A solar—?”

“An X-class flare. The proton storm will make things extremely hazardous anywhere there's sunlight. I tried to tell you guys before you headed into the crater, but you cut the link!”

Sohya's spirits sank. Yamagiwa was right. He'd been trying to say something, but Sohya had had other things on his mind when he shut off the transceiver.

“Does that mean we're going to get cancer?” Tae was filled with apprehension.

“Not right away,” said Yamagiwa. “An hour outside during a flare would expose you to a year's worth of radiation. Definitely not healthy. But that's the one thing you don't need to worry about, Ms. Toenji. You're in no danger in the crater. That's why I said it wasn't an emergency.

“Everyone here is safe behind concrete walls. But the Americans' inflatable modules don't provide much shielding. They're probably hunkered down in a shelter, waiting till it's safe to come out, which would explain why we can't raise them. But unless they hand off control to us, there's not much we can do. The heliostats can't be hacked into. The mirrors pack a lot of power. We didn't want them getting hijacked.”

“But why would they head for their shelter without stopping the experiment?”

“Who knows? Maybe they wanted to finish what they started before we got Johnson to override them. Or maybe it's something they don't need to monitor in real time. We just don't know.”

There was silence for a moment. “Sohya, stay calm. This is no time for panic. There's another problem.” Yamagiwa's voice was eerily expressionless. “The surface of the permafrost will sublimate first. From what you describe, it sounds like that's already happening. But then the heat from the mirrors will penetrate the surface, maybe thirty or forty centimeters. At some point, heat will be coming in faster than the surface can radiate it away.”

“Is the vault going to flood?” Tae asked.

“No. The vacuum still means direct sublimation from ice to vapor. And if that happens too fast…” There was silence for a few seconds. “There's going to be a detonation.”

More silence. Sohya and Tae could hear someone giving Yamagiwa an update. Finally he spoke again. “We just reran the numbers. There's no mistake. It depends on how tight the beam is focused, but even in the best case, the vault is going to come down. Aomine, are you listening carefully?”

“I'm listening.” Sohya looked at Tae. There was a firm set to her jaw and her gaze was steady, but she couldn't stop blinking. He put both hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

Yamagiwa's voice was cautious. “I want you to keep everything I've told you in mind. A lunar eclipse is under way as we speak. The Earth is moving between you and the sun. It's going to cut off the light from the heliostats. The eclipse may be your key to getting out of this.”

“Did it just start? The light was bright as hell a few minutes ago,” said Sohya.

“Earth's umbra touched the moon at 0531, but that was up near the equator. It hasn't reached the south pole yet. The eclipse is going to be total, but just barely. Right now the moon's apparent diameter from Earth is 33.2 arc minutes. The umbra's diameter is 91.8 arc minutes. The south pole is going to pass just inside the southern edge of the umbra. That'll be totality, but it will only last a short time. Even then, light scattering through Earth's atmosphere will make things look red. It won't be completely dark.”

“So that's when we make a break for it. When do we go? How long till totality?” Sohya was almost shouting with tension now. No answer. They waited. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Sohya was afraid to say anything, in case he talked over Yamagiwa. A drop of sweat ran into his left eye. Spurred by the stinging, he whispered into his mic.

“Yamagiwa?” Silence. “Yamagiwa! Answer me! Control, do you read?”

There was no answer. Tae touched his elbow and pointed to the comm cable. The tip of her finger traced the cable to the box, then across the ceiling and down to the floor where it went up the shaft.

Sohya's voice was almost a squeak. “The cable…” Something—the focused sunlight or a cave-in—had probably cut it.

“Goddamn it!” He ripped the comm cables out of the box and punched the wall of the vault twice for good measure. “How much bad luck can we have? Why the hell didn't he just tell us right away when to run for it?”

“He probably thought we needed the whole picture.” Tae's voice came softly over the transceiver link. Her voice was trembling, though she was trying to keep it steady. “He wanted us to know the background first so we wouldn't panic. So everything would make sense.”

“Tae…” He looked at her. She stared straight back, blinking tears out of her eyes.

“It was the only way he could handle it. Sohya, please be calm. I really, really need you to be calm now.”

“Calm? Of course I'm calm…” His voice died away. He was embarrassed; he wanted to hide. For a few moments, his desire—his desperation—to protect her had made it impossible to think straight. The only way to short-circuit the panic was to admit it. “I'm sorry. You're right. I almost lost it there for a second.”

“I think you're okay now.” She smiled behind her visor and embraced him. “I'm scared too. You've always protected me. I want to do the same for you. More than anything I've ever wanted.” He could feel her trembling through the shell of her space suit. “I love you, Sohya.”

Her eyes were closed. Her head fell back in her helmet, and her mouth opened slightly. At first Sohya was astonished, then he felt something breaking free at last, something he'd been quietly nurturing for eleven years. He closed his eyes.

“I love you too, Tae.”

They were unable to kiss, but everything that needed saying had been said. Their embrace lasted a long time; there was no reason to let go. They were going to die—

No. I will not give up. We've found each other. We are not going to lose this.

“Tae, we've got to think. Maybe there's something we can do.”

They parted and gazed at each other, feeding for a moment on each other's resolve. Tae spoke first. “Maybe we should crack the door a little and see what's happening?”

“Too dangerous. By now the permafrost's probably crumbling. It took a lot of strength to open the door the first time. If we do it again, we might bring the wall down.” He thought for a moment. “Can we dig out from a different direction? We could use our suit heaters to melt the ice.”

“I don't think we have enough battery power. Mine's dropping fast as it is, just from regulating the temperature. I wonder—if they can't go outside, wouldn't they send multidozers up the ridge to knock the mirrors down?”

“Maybe they're doing that right now. Problem is we don't know. We've got to try something on our own.”

“What about this fuel? Could we ignite it and tunnel out that way?”

“The oxygen's solid at this temperature—just barely, but it's frozen. We'd have to melt it first. Same problem: if we use up too much battery power, we'll freeze too.”

For several minutes they discussed other ideas, all unworkable. They lapsed into silence. Finally Sohya murmured, “We'll just have to try and guess when totality's occurred and make a break for it then.”

“Can't we calculate it?”

Sohya blinked in bewilderment. “But neither of us knows anything about celestial mechanics.”

“Maybe we don't need to. We'll need your wearcom.”

Sohya touched his forearm, then realized he'd left his wearcom back at the base. “I don't have it with me. Damn it—I think my software library had an application we could have used.”

“Our comm pads can do simple calculations. Try to remember what Yamagiwa said. The eclipse started at five thirty, right?”

“Yes…0531.”

“And the apparent diameter was 33.2 arc minutes. The Earth's umbra was 91.8 arc minutes. What time does that add up to?”

“It's not clock time,” said Sohya. “It's a section of a circle. One arc minute is a sixtieth of a degree. Apparent diameter is how big the moon looks from Earth, and the size of the earth's shadow relative to the moon. If those are the figures, maybe we can work something out. We need to know how long the eclipse will last. Totality will be at the halfway point.”

“Right!” Tae's eyes were shining.

“The length of the eclipse depends on how fast the moon orbits the earth, so we need the orbital speed. I know that: it's 1.68 kilometers per second.”

“What's the moon's diameter? I think it was about thirty-five hundred kilometers.”

“Closer to 3,476. So an object 3,476 kilometers wide is moving at 1.68 kilometers per second.”

“The diameter of the umbra is 91.8 arc minutes. So how many kilometers wide would it be?”

“I think we can use ratios. Divide 91.8 by 33.2 and multiply by 3,476.”

She punched in the numbers. “It's 9,611 kilometers!”

“So the moon is going to cross a shadow 9,611 kilometers wide, and it's going to do it at 1.68 kilometers per second.”

“Let's see…No, wait. The eclipse starts when the umbra hits the moon's edge, but it's not over till the other edge leaves the shadow. So we have to add one moon diameter to the diameter of the umbra. That's…13,087 kilometers. That's how far the moon has to go before it's completely out of the shadow.”

“Right—if the moon is passing straight through the center of the umbra. But it's going to skirt the south edge. That means we're not going to be in shadow for very long, just like Yamagiwa said. One circle inside a bigger circle. Listen, calculate these numbers. We can use the Pythagorean theorem.”