Episode 3
Part Three
Zakharov arrived and stepped through the massive open doors of the Alien Temple, three guards entering behind him. He surveyed the interior critically...the low arched walls, the strange patterns that covered every surface, and the broad, low platform directly opposite the doors.
"Academician," said the tall, bony man who approached him carefully. "Welcome to our preservation efforts. You..." He motioned helplessly at Zakharov's feet.
Zakharov looked down. He found himself standing astride a strange narrow channel carved into the floor, emanating straight out from the platform opposite the door. He clenched his jaw ...something about the configuration of the space made the central channel feel like a railroad track, something that might guide a force that could wipe a bystander out.
He ignored the implied request to move and stood his ground. "Greetings, Bortniansky. Tell me what you have found."
One of the man's bony hands plucked Zakharov's sleeve and gave a single tug toward a nearby wall. "Well, here are the pits we told you about in our reports. See...." He ran his fingers carefully along the complex series of tiny holes and ridges along the wall, which looked like a cross between hieroglyphics and Morse code. "It's incredible. These patterns are older than humanity, perhaps older than Earth itself."
Zakharov stepped toward him and thrust a finger into one of the larger pits. "It feels solid. This is a strong material. It is good that it has held up for so long." He looked around and then pointed at three yellow suited techs who stood around the platform opposite the entrance. "What are they doing over there?"
"We are working our way in that direction, Academician."
Zakharov shook his head and headed for the three men. As he approached he saw that one of them held an airgun and was directing it at a series of unusually large and oddly shaped hollows that covered the center of the main wall behind the platform.
"What are you doing?" Zakharov asked.
"Trying to get a reading on the shape of these hollows, Academician," the oldest of the men, a Swedish tech, answered. Zakharov watched them work, then glanced up. Through a tiny opening in the ceiling, he could see the dark clouds overhead. He frowned and looked down.
On the floor in front of the wall was a layer of crystalline gray dust, fine and sparkling. Zakharov knelt down and touched it, then scooped up a handful.
"Perhaps you should not touch..." whispered Bortniansky, then trailed off.
Zakharov pointed at one of the more elaborate hollows. "Direct the air here."
One of the men did. Zakharov grabbed the man's hand and shifted it, changing the movement of the air, and as he did he released a fine trail of dust, which was caught by the air currents and bent around into an arc. He moved his hands and another arc formed, curving near the first.
"Hold the light there," whispered Zakharov hoarsely, motioning to a place above the hollows. One of the technicians quickly obliged.
Zakharov opened his hand and let the sand flow. It curled and then caught the light, accented with strange shadows cast by ridges on the wall.
"Does it look like a face?" Zakharov whispered. The techs leaned in, and there, for a moment, a vague shape took form...long and strangely curved, with hollows for eyes, formed by a trick of dust and shadow. Then it vanished.
Zakharov remained staring at the space, then he straightened. "Measure every square millimeter of this chamber, then pull it all down. I want the east and west walls shipped to University Base for full analysis."
"But Academician," protested Bortniansky, shaking like a reed in a storm. "We should not violate the sanctity..."
"There is no sanctity. I want this back at the lab," said Zakharov, and motioned to his guards. "I will return to University Base, now. I want to know if we have seen...faces."
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