Z looked at the entrance to the lava tube, then around at the landscape and across the dull orange sky. You could pass over this hole and never know what lies beneath it, she told herself. She put her hand on Dunlap’s shoulder. “Ready? Dunnie, you lead the way. You've been here before.”
“Okay. Visors up. Some uneven surface until we get to the bottom of the rock pile, then it's as smooth as concrete.”
The three explorers stepped carefully down the rubble pile until they reached the smooth floor. Dunlap pointed his lantern down the tunnel. “See? It’s just like walking on an empty highway.”
“You’re right, Dunnie. This is definitely a manufactured surface. Cupid’s already found another outpost; this must’ve been the connector.”
The three continued down the tube along the path taken by the drone. In a short time, their lights fell on the latticework ceiling. As they approached it, the relief of the bracing became clearer.
“It looks different than it did on camera. You can see a surface coating, like a sealant,” Z noted.
“It looks like printing,” said Dunlap. “Whatever material this is, it isn't built under the ceiling, it isn't carved. It's like it's 3D printed along the ceiling—no gaps. It's fused to every undulation of the surface.”
On closer look, the coating appeared to be multi-layered, with a clear finish on the surface covering graphics of almost jewel-like quality within. Now, within a few yards of them rose an impressive archway of what looked like stone with a metallic inlay. Above the arch were scratch marks—perhaps the name of the city—and through the archway, the down ramp.
The drone camera is good, thought Z, but it didn’t convey the artistry or engineering of the tunnel structure. She stopped to examine the archway. “This is beautiful. Look at the inlays. Wait. Are they moving?” Everyone looked to where Dunlap was pointing his light. “Dunnie, move your beam back and forth over the inlays. Yes. Those circular engravings are oscillating. Curious.”
In Mission Control, Patrick looked down at a live transcript on a tablet and highlighted a segment. “Mask Nasri's statement, here.”
...
It read more than the light emanating from their EVA suits. It could read through those suits and sense each one's body temperature, heart rate, and other vital signs. It could sense the anxiety they felt. After a moment, it was even able to read their individual genotypes. “Curious,” it thought, “that this expedition would have taken so long to arrive. One of us, and two from the Blue Planet,” it observed. It analyzed sentiment. “They've returned, but are cautious. Ah, the darkness.”
...
As the trio of explorers descended the ramp they cast their lantern beams around, partly to view the ornate tilework on the walls, partly because they still weren't confident the area was uninhabited. Slowly, the way light fades up in a planetarium at the end of the show, the tunnel and ramp began to glow with a clear, warm light. In front of them stretched archway after archway covered in mosaic and glasswork. The lighting came from behind the glass, creating a feeling of daylight filtering through from above.
Z reported, “We seem to have triggered something, Control.”
Tanaka added, “Automated? Why didn’t the drone trigger it?”
Z took in the intricate designs as if visiting a museum. This wasn’t a utilitarian entrance, it had symbolism. “I hope everyone at home can see how beautiful this mosaic is.”
At the bottom of the ramp, they entered a cavernous space with a ceiling as high as Grand Central Terminal but with many times the floorspace. The walls appeared to be made of stone blocks; thirty-foot stone columns supported the vaulted ceilings at regular intervals around the periphery. Light flowed in through fixtures that looked like skylights. Z considered the scene. Was this sudden illumination automatic or was someone monitoring them? And what was its power source?
Under full illumination, the cavernous room lost some of its mystery and menace. Along its periphery were the large vehicles seen in the drone transmission. It was clearly a transportation center and, with the exception of a layer of dust and a few piles of rubble, seemed to be in excellent condition. Nowhere did they see the degree of deterioration one would expect for a city of this age. Nowhere did they see a sign of life, or death. No skeletons. No disorder. None of the jetsam a civilization should leave behind. It was as if there had been an orderly exodus from the city.
Z pointed to one corner of the room. “There. That’s the direction I flew the drone. Let’s find the tunnel that will lead us to the room with the chandeliers.”
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As they walked along a wall toward the tunnel, Tanaka noticed that what had appeared to be stone blocks, weren’t; like the floor of the lava tubes, the stone had been shaped and coated with a glaze. When they came to the tunnel, its walls were rough-hewn but glazed with a luminescent coating. The floor, again, was a manufactured material and imbedded along both sides of it ran pairs of parallel lines.
“It looks like a bike lane,” Noriko laughed as she stepped between the lines.
The other two began walking down the tunnel. When Tanaka took a few steps to keep up, she quickly overtook them and was quite a ways beyond them when she stopped.
“It's like a conveyor!” she exclaimed. “You walk and it moves you faster than your step. But if you stop walking, it stops you. It creates proportional acceleration.”
Z and Dunlap stepped between the lines and started walking, expecting Tanaka to move as they did. But she stayed stationary. When they reached her, they all laughed. It was the first piece of technology they had encountered, and it was fun. They became so focused on the conveyor that they nearly flew past the entrance to the first room. Z stopped, stepped outside of the lines and together they walked through the portico leading to the room. Standing on the balcony, they overlooked a large, regal space, seemingly carved from the stone. Now lighted by the pair of ornate crystal chandeliers, it was more grand than it had appeared in the pocket drone video.
Z descended, followed by the other two. She now had time to focus on the fresco and she hoped that with closer examination it would reveal secrets about the city’s past inhabitants. In the darkness of the drone exploration the faded images had been impossible to decipher, but as she approached it in the light of the chandeliers she hoped that would change. It did. In that illumination, one debate was settled before it had started. The mural that spanned the wall clearly showed people who would not have looked out of place on Earth, yet they did not look entirely Earthly, either. The mural, Z assumed, presented an idealized version of a story. A woman and man, standing tall and straight, led a procession of people from a spaceship. Above ground, all wore EVA suits, but as the procession went below ground, the EVA suits were exchanged for graceful, flowing clothes. Each person wore a crown, of sorts, across their foreheads. Their features were strong, but without the delineations of Earth races; their hair varied from black to light brown, from kinky to wavy, and their skin from rich reddish-brown to golden tan. They faced forward, wearing expressions of calm determination. Ahead of them, deep in the lava tubes, beamed a light like a star.
Z began her attempt at describing their experience, “This is a lot to take in. Sorry, Earth. I’ll try as best I can to fill-in what the cameras can’t convey. The first word that comes to my mind is ‘grand.’ This room is refined. I feel like I’m walking around a palace carved into a mountain.”
Dunlap embellished as he looked around the room. “Yeah, I can’t stress enough that this is not primitive cave digging; there are no blast holes, no chisel marks; the room appears to have been ground out of the rock. There’s engineering to every cut, coating, and support in this habitation. The structure is completely integrated with the rock around it. I could study this for years.”
Noriko added, “Not to mention the underground illumination. I know it looks like the room is just lit, like with a big lantern, but it is soft and really quite beautiful to walk in the glow. And then there’s that conveyor that magically moves you through the city.” She chuckled.
Z resumed, “I want to focus the camera on the mural that is the centerpiece of this room. It appears to tell the story of people coming to this planet, venturing underground, and settling. These must have been explorers. I’m going to try to zoom in on a detail. I hope it comes through.” The lens zoomed-in on a couple beneath the surface, dressed in simple, elegant clothes that hung gracefully on them. “These are people who you would not stop to look at on Earth—except that they are attractive. But people in public art usually are. There’s also something strangely familiar to this style. I feel like this is somewhere between a tomb painting and Renaissance depiction of a Biblical story… a nearly flat depiction that shows depth of perspective.”
“Actually, it reminds me of Diego Rivera,” Tanaka added, with amusement.
“It’s pretty fantastic stuff,” said Dunlap standing behind Z and looking up at the mural. “Imagine this city filled with these people.”
...
Inside the replica 19th century lumber baron mansion, a three-family party congregated in a giant family room. The kid's table was loaded with snacks, the kitchen island stacked with finger food and encircled by the parents, drinks in hand, who were engrossed in the images beaming from the wall screen and exclaiming with almost every pan of the helmet cameras. On the couch, nearest the video, Celeste stared deeply into the images, trying to devour every detail: the staircases, archways, inlaid mosaics, and painted murals.
When Celeste was a golden-haired child, she had a favorite daydream. She would walk outside and there would be no one in her neighborhood—no friends, no adults, and no parents. She would be free to walk into any house on her street, probe every drawer and cupboard, sift through the closets. She could put on clothes she'd never be allowed to wear, put on exotic jewelry and sit in someone else's living room pretending all that was theirs was now hers. She hadn't thought of that daydream since she married, but now it had sprung into her head, a fantasy from her childhood come to being.
“Look! The people in that mural. They look a lot like us!” her friend shrieked as the camera panned away from the mural. “Don't turn away! Now I've missed it. It looked like they were wearing some kind of tunic, but I can't see it now.”
Celeste was eager to officiate. “I think it was a long dress—or maybe flowy cocktail pants. I liked it. I would wear that.” Indeed, Celeste was ready to jump into those clothes and walk those streets. It was all so beautiful! And the city seemed wistful in its deserted state. It was empty and romantic, waiting to be filled with the fancies of a reborn young girl. “This is not what I would have expected. Tunnels are dark and dank. This is like a lost magical land.” Maybe this Elizabeth Nasri was getting to do the thing that Celeste had always fantasized about. Had she only known, Celeste would have become an astronaut.