The Unearthing (59 page)

"Mission Control, we will be at T-Minus five minutes to Ramp release on my mark," Bloom said, "And...mark!"

"Roger that Ship. Five minutes to Ramp destruct." Bloom sat back in her chair, watching the countdown proceed. She watched the power level indicators for several systems climb higher and higher as the Ship built up the charges it required to fire those systems. Most of those power levels were reading in the millions of gigawatts, the sum total of the energy spikes more than enough to power a medium-sized nation for decades. The Ship was building tremendous forces as it prepared to lift its incalculable mass up from its millions-year-old cradle. And still Bloom felt not the slightest shiver in the deck plates beneath her feet. She'd never been on a ship that didn't shimmy at least a little as it got ready to launch. There was always the shudder of power coming from something. But not the Ship; not in the least. This vessel had a consciousness all its own; it was at least partly biological and far in advance of anything that Humanity had ever come up with. Even flying the Bug out of the Ship and back to Groom Lake, Bloom had discovered just how different the Bug had been from anything she had ever flown before. The Bug was so responsive it was nearly anticipatory; the imaging system far superior in clarity and definition to the one they had built at the Facility. Everything pointed to a technology millions of years ahead of their own. This Command Deck had been
grown
by the Ship to accommodate its new Human operators. Bloom wondered how the Ship's Command Deck had been configured when the Eoulf had walked these halls.

The Ship made an announcement in its resonating, crystalline bass:

"RAMP DESTRUCTION IN FIFTY SECONDS." Bloom turned her chair so that she was facing the half-egg of her own private imager.

"Display," Bloom commanded.

♦♦♦

"We're only moments away now from the destruction of the Ramp," Walter Quincy Robertson reported, "And we are going now to an aerial shot of the Ship, taken from the Concord Three Station in orbit over North America."

The image onscreen changed, showing the Ship in quarter profile from above, the ramp a narrow band extending from the Pyramid to the shores of the New Mexican desert beyond. The camera continued to zoom in, focusing to an exquisitely sharp picture of the ramp and the Ship around it. The blue bands of energy that skittered across the Ship's hull were glowing more and more brilliantly.

"It is interesting to note," Robertson continued, "That Concord Three was Colonel Margaret Bloom's most recent posting prior to being assigned to the Ship Survey Expedition where she replaced--wait a minute..."

An arc of energy shot up from the Ship jumping over the ramp.

"It looks like the Ramp is about to go..." And suddenly there it was: a wall of blue energy to the left of the Ramp, ten meters high. It began creeping towards the Ramp, and then shot across almost too fast to be seen. As it crossed the distance to the other side of the ramp it extinguished and the Ramp was no more. An implosive roar thundered across the desert as air collapsed in upon the gap left by the disintegrated ramp. The earth trembled slightly although not nearly as violently as it had when the Ship had unearthed itself.

"My GOD!" Robertson exclaimed, "That was incredible! Ladies and gentlemen, the Ramp has been disintegrated and the noise you heard at home was the sound of air dropping into the vacuum created by its absence. There was a minor tremor after the Ramp was disintegrated, but now things seem back to normal. The Ship is free and we are now less than fifteen minutes from launch."

From where he was Robertson could hear the thunderous roar of the cheers of the assembled masses.

"And that noise--I don't know if you can hear it at home," Robertson continued, "That noise is the sound of an estimated five hundred thousand people cheering, ladies and gentlemen. This is truly an historic occasion. The world will never see anything like this, again. What better time throughout our history, throughout our
civilization
to be alive?"

♦♦♦

"The Ramp is gone," Tanaka reported, "The Ship is now clear and awaiting final powerup to launch."

"Null buoyancy field charged to fifty per cent."

"Exterior seismology reports a mild tremor emanating from the launch field," Another officer reported, "Point two five Richters and rising."

"Mission Control, be advised we are monitoring a low level tremor," Bloom called, "Point two five Richters, and rising."

"Confirm tremor point two five Richters and rising. As expected, Ship," was the reply, "We are also monitoring the quake. Still well within tolerable range."

"Roger that," Bloom ended the communication, rose from her chair and walked over to her railing.

She looked down upon the deck below her.

"Anyone feel anything at all?" she asked. The Command Deck, and presumably the whole Ship was as still and placid as the eye of a hurricane. An apt analogy in Bloom's opinion, because no matter what happened after the Ship launched she was sure there would be a storm.

♦♦♦

The Ship rose slowly at first, its null buoyancy field helping it overcome most of the inertia associated with its mass. As it rose the Ship began shifting the air about it. Currents sunk down into the valley of the canyon created by the Ship’s rising. Others rushed up its majestic length or across its span. The Ship’s ascent began to be noticeable: a mountain rising from the grave. As the edge of the disk lifted free of the canyon a massive shadow blossomed from beneath it, bathing first the Village and then the whole World Ship Preserve in premature dusk. A throbbing, pulsing hum more felt than heard began to roil across the desert, echoing for kilometres. The ground below was bathed in darkness; a surreal night time sky ringed with the daylight fighting at its edges. All beneath the Ship were silent as through the thrumming, throbbing false night, a thousand points of blue and white light suddenly scattered stars into the blackened heavens. The Ship’s running lights blossomed across its lower half. The lower hull was covered in overlapping spheroids; half and three-quarter orbs pockmarking the perfect half-sphere arch of the Ship’s lower hull. They ranged in size from only a few meters to a massive blister half-sphere ten kilometres across, busily absorbing those smaller spheres surrounding it. The Ship rose higher into the sky, casting its shadow wide over the land. At last it slowed to a halt, a deep valley of shadow below it even as the sun continued to reflect off of its golden upper surface.

“Status report,” Bloom called out, “All stations.”

“Habitat secure,” Tanaka announced, “Passengers returning to the surface. Propulsion systems are good to go.”

“Navigational systems online,” Benedict replied, “Air traffic is clear, and we have reached our pre-spatial cruising altitude of four thousand, seven hundred and ten meters.” Making eye contact with Bloom, the dark-eyed Black man smiled gleefully.

“We now own the sky.” He said.

“Lay in the pre-orbital flight path,” Bloom commanded, “Ship to Mission Control: we have reached our cruising altitude, and are plotting our course, over.”

“Roger that Ship,” Mission Control said, “We confirm you at four-point-seven-one-zero K and holding. You are cleared to proceed with Shipflight, over.”

“Course plotted and laid in Colonel,” One of the deckhands confirmed.

“Take us on,” The Ship began to move eastwards.

The World Ship Summit had decreed that the Ship should tour the globe once before leaving Earth behind. Its flight path would take it over the skylines of all the World Council capitals as well as most of the major cities of each nation. Finally almost two full days later, it would leave the Earth’s atmosphere for orbit and then the stars.

“We are underway,” Tanaka reported.

“Display,” The walls of the Command deck rippled and dissolved. Suddenly it was as if they were atop the Pyramid looking out across at the world around them. Not even the natural curve of the Command Deck’s dome distorted the image. Bloom stood up, walking to the railing in front of her chair. Benedict climbed up the short ramp between his station and hers.

“This is fantastic,” Bloom said, approvingly.

“They have the same view of the sky from Habitat’s equator,” Benedict advised.

♦♦♦

As the Ship sailed the world’s skies, massive crowds gathered along its flight path. As it crossed its shadow over the people below, a preternatural silence would fall and people would stare in awe, humbled, frightened, enthralled by the incredible sight before them. Particularly lucky were those cities that saw the Ship visit at night, for the running lights from the Ship bathed their cities in its strange glow, highlighted against the dark. And there were celebrations: massive parties that ran day and night, exulting the Ship, its Passengers, and crew. Nothing like it had been seen since the Millennial Celebrations back in AD-2000

♦♦♦

History would record the world united in celebration during the hours that the Ship traveled the globe, gracing its cities and people with the presence of its wondrous flight. Finally the Ship’s circuit of the world’s capitals ended where it had began, over the crater in Laguna. It hovered over Ship’s Crater, which was already in the throes of massive and rapid geologic transformation in the absence of the weight of the Ship in its bed. The Ship hung there for an entire hour before suddenly it rang out with a final two-note burst of Shipsong that echoed throughout the Preserve and surrounding territories. It was mournful, plaintive, an almost feral farewell. And then the Ship rose ever upwards into the sky, its shape and shadow shrinking away as it took to the Heavens. With it the Ship took the hopes and the dreams of the Passengers in its belly and the hopes and dreams of Mankind as it went. Humanity had finally truly taken to the stars. And on Earth as in the Ship the future appeared as a promise, for the first time in ages.

APPENDIX

SHIP CONCEPT ART

BY CHRISTINE WILLISTON

AND STEVE KARMAZENUK

Christine Williston is an old friend of mine, and a computer animation artist. When she first discovered that I’d written this book and read it herself, she took it upon herself to begin modelling the Ship. I, myself had modelled the Ship back in 1997, using nothing but a piece of graph paper, a #2 pencil and my imagination. I still keep that picture framed on the wall behind my desk.

Extrapolating on that image and the details I described in the preliminary chapters after the Ship was unearthed, Christie created the following series of images, one of which she was gracious enough to let me adapt for use as the cover of this electronic edition of the Unearthing. I hope you enjoy the pictures below.

My original drawing of the Ship, in cross-section

...which leads to the ubiquitous Green Wire Frame.