“I want to see what’s in the box,” she replied, doing her best not to glance toward the soldiers’ position. “What we found but never got a chance to see.”
“What’s in the box is irrelevant to your decision,” said Rush.
“What’s its purpose?”
“How can we possibly know that?” Rush asked, exasperated.
“Bring it to me,” Nora said. “I…need to see it. I want to decide for myself if it’s truly hostile.”
“That’s a distraction. A sideshow.”
“Open the box,” said Tappan. “Or I’m out, too.”
After an agonizing silence, Rush gestured to the two soldiers to bring the box. They carried it over and placed it on the floor.
“Open it,” Rush ordered.
One soldier bent down, unlocked the box, and raised the lid.
For a moment, Nora hesitated. Then she stepped forward and peered in.
Inside was a cube, about two inches on a side. It appeared to be floating just above the bottom of the box, with no obvious means of support. Then again, she wasn’t sure: its edges were blurry. And now, inside the cube, she could make out a sphere from which greenish light ebbed and flowed like water, creating curlicues and eddies. As she watched, the sphere inside the cube began to rotate; slowly at first, then faster and faster as the glow brightened, its hue changing to chartreuse, then to an indescribable, otherworldly yellow.
She abruptly knelt and reached gently into the box.
“What are you doing?” Rush cried. “Are you insane? That thing might kill you at any second!”
But Nora—in an almost mystical, transcendent state—cupped her hands beneath the cube. Her years of disbelief and academic dismissiveness had—in the face of all she’d seen—given way to something else entirely; something almost completely the opposite. She tried to grasp the cube, but it rose along with her hands, always hovering a few inches above them.
“Shut the box!” Rush ordered the soldiers.
But as she lifted her hands, raising them and the alien artifact above the confines of the box, the cube abruptly flew upward, expelling a coruscation of colors like glittering chaff, and then shot toward the probe. As it did, the oval whirlpool in the hull—the damaged area, a tiny storm in an otherwise placid surface—abruptly opened wider, and the cube darted into it. Instantly, the hole irised shut, then vanished into a swirling pool of color.
“Son of a bitch!” Rush cried, backing up. “What have you done?”
Ducking below the dash again, Corrie stamped blindly on the pedal. The shouts and cries of her companions, the noise of automatic rounds pounding against the vehicle, were deafening. The last of the bulletproof glass shredded under the onslaught. She kept the pedal pressed down hard, unable to see where she was going but keeping the wheel as straight as she could, until she suddenly felt a sickening smack. A moment later, the body of a soldier bounced and rolled over their vehicle from front to back in a geyser of blood. Thinking fast, Watts grabbed the man’s weapon, and Skip propelled the body off the rear. But the impact caused the jeep to stall, and the soldiers rushed them as Corrie frantically worked the starter. Watts popped up from the back seat and let fly a spray of automatic gunfire just as the engine again rumbled to life. Rising above the dashboard, Corrie jammed down the accelerator with a fresh squeal of rubber, the remaining soldiers running in hot pursuit.
They hit a T intersection, caroming off the far wall. At the end of this new corridor was another intersection, and at its center Corrie could see a metal door, rolled wide open. Beyond was a huge vault, its walls covered with electronics…and in the center lay a bizarre object. Standing in front were Tappan, Nora, and a man in uniform, flanked by two soldiers. As she accelerated down the corridor, she saw a flash of green, followed by a brilliant streak of light. The object lit up in an intense and crazy swirl of colors, followed by a deep bass note that rattled her teeth and shook the subterranean foundations of the base itself.
The jeep sped down the hall, closing in on the hangar.
Nora was transfixed by the sight. The deep note that sounded upon the closing of the iris was strangely pure and throbbing, almost human. As the probe lit up in dazzling colors, the note rose in pitch, climbing ever higher until it passed the range of audibility. The craft also appeared to be changing shape once again, only this time the change was far more evident: it was growing larger, rounder, with coruscating, jewel-like dimples appearing and disappearing on its surface.