"Most of what you see is structural," Barnes said. "Cross-stress bracing for the outer hull. Gives tremendous support along all axes. The ship is very ruggedly built, as we suspected. Designed to take extraordinary stresses. There's probably another hull further in." Norman was reminded that Barnes had once been an aeronautical engineer.
"Not only that," Harry said, shining his light on the outer hull. "Look at this - a layer of lead."
"Radiation shield?"
"Must be. It's six inches thick."
"So this ship was built to handle a lot of radiation."
"A hell of a lot," Harry said.
There was a haze in the ship, and a faintly oily feel to the air. The metal girders seemed to be coated in oil, but when Norman touched them, the oil didn't come off on his fingers. He realized that the metal itself had an unusual texture: it was slick and slightly soft to the touch, almost rubbery.
"Interesting," Ted said. "Some kind of new material. We associate strength with hardness, but this metal - if it is metal - is both strong and soft. Materials technology has obviously advanced since our day."
"Obviously," Harry said.
"Well, it makes sense," Ted said. "If you think of America fifty years ago as compared with today, one of the biggest changes is the great variety of plastics and ceramics we have now that were not even imagined back then. ..." Ted continued to talk, his voice echoing in the cavernous darkness. But Norman could hear the tension in his voice. Ted's whistling in the dark, he thought.
They moved deeper into the ship. Norman felt dizzy to be so high in the gloom. They came to a branchpoint in the catwalk. It was hard to see with all the pipes and struts - like being in a forest of metal.
"Which way?"
Barnes had a wrist compass; it glowed green. "Go right." They followed the network of catwalks for ten minutes more. Gradually Norman could see that Barnes was right: there was a central cylinder constructed within the outer cylinder, and held away from it by a dense arrangement of girders and supports. A spacecraft within a spacecraft.
"Why would they build the ship like this?"
"You'd have to ask them."
"The reasons must have been compelling," Barnes said. "The power requirements for a double hull, with so much lead shielding ... hard to imagine the engine you'd need to make something this big fly."
After three or four minutes, they arrived at the door on the inner hull. It looked like the outer door.
"Breathers back on?"
"I don't know. Can we risk it?"
Without waiting, Beth flipped up the panel of buttons, pressed "OPEN," and the door rumbled open. More darkness beyond. They stepped through. Norman felt softness underfoot; he shined his light down on beige carpeting.
Their flashlights crisscrossed the room, revealing a large, contoured beige console with three high-backed, padded seats. The room was clearly built for human beings.
"Must be the bridge or the cockpit."
But the curved consoles were completely blank. There was no instrumentation of any kind. And the seats were empty. They swung their beams back and forth in the darkness. "Looks like a mockup, rather than the real thing."
"It can't be a mockup."
"Well, it looks like one."
Norman ran his hand over the smooth contours of the console. It was nicely molded, pleasant to feel. Norman pressed the surface, felt it bend to his touch. Rubbery again. "Another new material."
Norman's flashlight showed a few artifacts. Taped to the far end of the console was a handmarked sign on a three-by-five filing card: It said, "GO BABY GO!" Nearby was a small plastic statuette of a cute animal that looked like a purple squirrel. The base said, "Lucky Lemontina." Whatever that meant.
"These seats leather?"
"Looks like it."
"Where are the damned controls?"
Norman continued to poke at the blank console, and suddenly the beige console surface took on depth, and appeared to contain instruments, screens. All the instrumentation was somehow within the surface of the console, like an optical illusion, or a hologram. Norman read the lettering above the instruments: "Pos Thrusters" ... "F3 Piston Booster" ... "Glider" ... "Sieves" ...
"More new technology," Ted said. "Reminiscent of liquid crystals, but far superior. Some kind of advanced optoelectronics."
Suddenly all the console screens glowed red, and there was a beeping sound. Startled, Norman jumped back; the control panel was coming to life.
"Watch it, everybody!"
A single bright lightning flash of intense white light filled the room, leaving a harsh afterimage.
"Oh God ..."
Another flash - and another - and then the ceiling lights came on, evenly illuminating the room. Norman saw startled, frightened faces. He sighed, exhaling slowly. "Jesus ..."
Chapter 5
"How the hell did that happen?" Barnes said.
"It was me," Beth said. "I pushed this button."
"Let's not go around pushing buttons, if you don't mind," Barnes said irritably.
"It was marked 'ROOM LIGHTS.' It seemed an appropriate thing to do."
"Let's try to stay together on this," Barnes said.
"Well, Jesus, Hat - "
"Just don't push any more buttons, Beth!"
They were moving around the cabin, looking at the instrument panel, at the chairs. All of them, that is, all except for Harry. He stood very still in the middle of the room, not moving, and said, "Anybody see a date anywhere?"