I don't own NGE. Gainax, Sadamoto, and Anno do. I'm just playing in their sandbox. Please don't sue.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Early in the evening a few people began making their way across campus, converging on a common destination from the parking lots, from on-campus dorms, or directly from late classes. In small groups and individually, students, faculty, and interested members of the public began drifting toward the Science Department's large lecture hall. The evening's program wouldn't start for another hours or so, but the early arrivals wanted good seats. On their way they passed a few TV crews setting up temporary transmission vans, lighting and video equipment near the steps that led up to the hall's entrance. There was a subliminal expectancy in the air, along with the ever-present background drone of cicadas.

As the appointed time for the lecture drew near, the flow of audience hopefuls gradually increased and the hall filled until at ten minutes before the advertised hour, a thick line had formed extending back from the large building's main entrance. Finally, a University official came out to announce that the legal occupancy of the hall had been reached.

" . . . and in anticipation of this situation, a nearby lecture hall was set up with a live video and sound feed from this hall. Those of you still wishing to attend this lecture, please follow me."

As the crowd led by the official moved away, two large sign stands on either side of the doors again became visible. . .

"Understanding The Second Impact,
A Historical Perspective.
Visiting Lecturer, Dr. Kensuki Aida, PhD."

The placards displayed a black and white publicity photo and went on to describe Dr. Aida's professional background, as well as noting that a large part of the material to be presented was only recently declassified, including Dr. Aida's personal research. A perceptive observer might detect a slightly haunted look in the eyes, but it was otherwise an unremarkable likeness of a twenty-something academic of mixed Japanese descent with somewhat oversize glasses and slightly disheveled light brown hair in need of a cut.

~-~-~

Two men talked quietly with one another a little way off-stage as the department-head-turned-M.C. droned through a lengthy introduction...

"Sheesh, Ken. This whole thing is kinda weird, isn't it? How many hours did we all spend bored out of our skulls back then? That old sensei would have been locked away if droning on about the same stuff day after day was against the law . . . and it should have been. Now here you're going to give a lecture on the same subject."

"I did that on purpose, Toji. I like the irony . . . even if only our old classmates would get it. But I'm pretty sure this will turn out to be a little more interesting for everyone. After all, the old sensei was just spouting what those in power made up to cover the truth and keep the population pacified. Now that we can talk about what really happened, everyone ought to hear it. People who lost friends and family back then might be upset all over again, but enough time has passed that maybe it won't be too bad. Besides, every once in a while we need to be reminded to have some healthy skepticism about what people in power tell us. ...Uh-oh. My introduction is nearly done. It's show-time. Meet afterward?"

"Sure. I'll let you know how it comes across from a jock's point of view. Later." Toji turned and walked quietly away from the stage area, his progress marked by a slight limp. He was soon in the seat saved for him by his wife.

". . . without further ado, I give you Doctor Kensuki Aida."

In the mobile control booths, video technicians cut to cameras that were following the young professor as he strode confidently out onto the stage carrying a folder of notes and took his position behind the podium just vacated by the M.C. Stage lights reflected sharply off his glasses as he pushed them up to their proper place with his index finger. The polite applause died down and he began what he expected would be an enlightening evening for his audience...

"The very fact that we or any humans exist today is remarkable. There have been so many factors working against us in the past that we should view our specie's most important characteristic to be a well-developed ability to survive. True, we are not tops in this area. Other species with which we share our planet have survived far longer, and without our much bragged-upon intelligence. ...The one characteristic that does seem common to survivor types is adaptability. Brain power can help, but it can also hinder us . . . especially when we turn it against our own kind.

"The roots of our most recent challenge reach far into the past of our planet, much further back than human history. The seeds were planted with an event that most scientists considered to be an unlikely chance collision between the Earth and not one, but two “dinosaur killer” asteroids or large comets within a very short period of time. Other single collisions had happened both previously and since, but this event was unique in many ways.

"Only recently has science been able to find and interpret evidence of these devastating meetings. The data crunching power of sophisticated computers in partnership with curious and able scientists have provided the means to reconstruct such past events from certain unique mineral strata in combination with characteristic large-scale geophysical structures.

"Some materials that will be mentioned here, but not treated in detail, may be examined at your own convenience, as they are available within Web sites you will find listed in the appendix at the end of the lecture handout." Here, Dr. Aida took a moment for a drink of water to moisten a throat already threatening to dry out.

"I will preface the remainder of this lecture with the acknowledgment that most of what you will hear was reconstructed by beginning with the facts that could be established after the dust had settled, after our demise was narrowly averted. A lot of dedicated and talented people worked backward from there, researching records, interviewing hundreds of witnesses, and verifying and correlating all of the information in order to establish the sequence and relationship of the events that will be presented here.

"The double collision of planetoid bodies with the Earth that I mentioned earlier struck just before evidence of life began showing up in the geological record. And contrary to prevailing belief, they involved large artificial objects, rather than naturally occurring chunks of space debris." Dr. Aida paused as a muted muttering briefly rose from some of those in attendance. "This alone is hard for many to accept. Fewer still will accept the fact that those extraterrestrial objects came complete with living passengers." He paused again as more widespread commentary from the audience made itself heard. "Perhaps more remarkable still, is the fact that some of those passengers continued to live until just recently. A few life forms derived from their DNA still live, but we won’t come to that until later." At this point several hands were raised, accompanied by more than a few exclamations.

"Please hold your questions until the end of the lecture. Hopefully, most of them will be answered in the course of the presentation. Some time has been reserved at the end when the remainder can be addressed."

"We will start at a point in the overall time line that is the nexus to which everything else connects. It is also important to know something of the players in our little drama, so they will be introduced to you, along with a little of their background, at convenient points as we go."

“When massively parallel computer platforms and artificial intelligence techniques were developed to a sufficient level, rapid advances were realized in most of the, until then, intractable problems in science including those in Physics, Molecular Biochemistry, Cosmology, Geophysics and Archeology, where existing and new data could then be more rapidly integrated and interpreted, new connections made among disparate facts.

"One of the more interesting results was the discovery of an anomaly in the bedrock beneath the Antarctic ice sheets, and a similar one beneath the Hakone area in Japan. After a super computer's unique capabilities were applied, holographic projections of the output showed perfectly spherical structures over ten kilometers in diameter, almost certainly artificial in origin. A series of scientific expeditions would be sent to sink a shaft down to, and to investigate, the Antarctic structure and its contents. Those interested in more detail should refer to 'The Katsuragi Expeditions' in 'Zeitschrift für Geologische Wissenschaften'.

“While a wealth of knowledge can be found in the academic papers that come out of scientific investigations, records of the activities and experiences of individual team members sometimes allow a deeper understanding of how discoveries come to be of crucial importance to the entire world. Such was the case with the journal of Jiro Ibuki, a computer analyst who joined the Katsuragi team for its final three months. . . . .

~-~-~

(THE WHITE MOON, PART ONE)

Excerpt from Jiro Ibuki’s Journal:

The final leg of my journey found us trying to get some sleep in a noisy cargo transport despite being bounced around when the plane hit air turbulence. I looked at my fellow passengers and saw my own fatigue and boredom mirrored in their postures and expressions. My seat was none too comfortable and after more than four hours flight time, I regarded it as an instrument of torture. There was no way to recline it at all, and the padding in the seat and the back had lost all resiliency years ago. Now, it was just lumpy and hard. The noise level from the throbbing engines and the howl of the thin air rushing past the creaking aluminum skin of the fuselage had defeated all attempts to carry on any kind of conversation. If the money had not been as good, if the reason for the expedition wasn’t so exciting, there’s no way I would be here voluntarily, looking out through a mostly frosted-over aircraft window at the endless white landscape below. Time seemed to crawl as slowly as the bleak surface appeared to drift by far beneath us. . .

A harsh burst of noise erupted from the speakers overhead, courtesy of someone keying a microphone. Then a voice that managed to be simultaneously bored and cheery announced, “This is the co-pilot speaking. In a few minutes we will begin reducing altitude in anticipation of our final approach at our destination. Please continue to keep your seat belts fastened and snug. We’ll be coming in on the tail-end of a blizzard, so we can expect a bit more turbulence than usual. It's a balmy minus twenty Celsius at the base, with a variable breeze producing a minus thirty five wind chill. Don't forget to wear your mittens.” There was another brief crackle and the speakers were silent again. The announcement was enough to get the passengers digging through their carry-on and pulling out their cold weather gear. Once the cargo doors were opened, the barely adequate heat in the passenger area would be a pleasant memory.

~-~-~-~

“Jiro Ibuki! . . . Jiro Ibuki!” The figure, one of several in parkas at the edge of the flight line, looked at each passenger as they left the plane while calling out his name and waving. Since everyone wore heavily insulated overalls, boots, parkas, mittens, balaclavas, and dark goggles to prevent snow blindness, recognizing anyone without being able to read a name tag was unlikely. Jiro waved back and walked over.

“How was the flight? Wait. Never mind. It was probably just like mine when I came down here. In my spare time I use the Internet to try tracking down the sadist who designed those seats.” The greeter was rewarded with a bark of laughter.

“If you find him, please don't end his life before I get a turn at him,” replied Jiro. Though their faces were hidden, each could easily imagine the other’s grin. His voice turned serious. “Are you able to sleep at night, knowing what's down there?”

“Well, thinking about that does tend to keep a lot of us preoccupied, but that's the problem. We don't know exactly what it is we've found. And if my briefing was any use at all, it seems that you'll be helping the scientists figure that out. My name is Watanabe, by the way. Sadao Watanabe. I’ve been assigned as Dr. Katsuragi’s administrative assistant.” They shook mittens. “That means I’m responsible for taking care of the non-scientific aspects of this base so that the good Professor and the other scientists can concentrate on puzzling out what we have. I'll be giving you the grand tour and helping you settle in. But first, let's collect your stuff and get it inside."

“I don't have a lot, just this over-sized duffel with my personal gear.”

“Excellent! Come this way please.” Sadao turned and walked a short distance to a ramp dug into the snow and ice, Jiro following. At the bottom of the ramp they went through a heavy weather-sealed door and entered what turned out to be a large airlock carved out of the ice. Some skis, snowshoes and other outdoor gear had been leaned up against one wall. Sadao removed his goggles and commented, “You’ll notice that it’s a lot warmer here than outside . . . just a little below freezing.” They passed through another door opposite the first and entered a larger room provided with racks for hanging up parkas and other outdoor clothing. The walls were insulated and the temperature here was a relatively tropical 10 degrees Celsius. Following Sadao’s example, Jiro climbed out of his outerwear and left it hanging with the others. This afforded them the first opportunity they had to study each other, and they briefly did so with polite curiosity. Sadao saw a guy in his upper twenties, of slim build and average height, with the dark eyes and straight dark hair common among many Japanese. He had a broad forehead, a steady gaze, and an air of someone who observed everything around him with lively interest. For his part, Jiro noted his guide appeared to be in his early thirties, stood taller than himself by about eight centimeters, and had the lean build of someone who was used to regular exercise, perhaps swimming or running.

Going through another insulated door, they entered a fairly wide corridor with a few oversize doorways on either side. “These are storage areas. The door on your right opens into a large receiving area where they’ll bring the cargo that arrived in your plane and where they’re holding some that will be shipped out on it. There’s a big outside door on the other end of the room.”

They soon came to another corridor that ran cross-ways to theirs. Sadao gestured to the left. “Down that way are the labs, workshops, office areas, and computer rooms.” He turned to the right and continued walking. “On your right are the cafeteria and the kitchen area beyond that. On your left is a recreational area complete with a small library, satellite TV, some board games, and even a pool table. The rest of the doors along here go to several sleeping areas. You’ve been assigned to the E-dorm. C, D, and E-dorms are for the guys. A and B are for the female staff. Here we are . . .” He opened a door with a large black “E” stenciled on to it and led the way down yet another corridor with doors on either side. Jiro noted that whoever built the base must have found a really good price on the gray paint that adorned every wall and door that he had seen so far.

“You’re in this suite.” Sadao knocked on a door stenciled with a big black numeral “5” and waited a moment.

A muffled voice called “Come in,” from the other side.

Sadao opened the door and led the way. “Hi, Gary. This is Jiro Ibuki, our new computer analyst. He’ll be helping us keep our systems happy and healthy, as well as lending a hand with data massaging and representation so that mere humans can hope to make sense of it. Jiro, this is Gary Weston. He’s our data communications engineer.”

A big blond guy in his early thirties that could have been mistaken for a warehouse worker pushed back from a desk and rose up out of his chair to offer a hand to the newcomer. “Welcome. I’m glad you’re here. Up ‘till now they’ve had me riding herd on the base’s computers in addition to my usual occupation as digital plumber. And while I know a reasonable amount about hardware and operating systems, I’m no expert. I did manage to get them unpacked and running, but the scientist types are going to be much happier to have you. I’m afraid that I couldn’t help them much with taking advantage of the sexier features of our platforms.”

They shook hands, as Jiro responded, “Thanks. I’m glad to be here. Once I heard about the structure down below being artificial, I wanted to be in on this. I grew up reading science fiction and watching movies like ‘Close Encounters’, but I never expected to be part of an expedition dealing with the first alien artifact accepted as such by science.”

Sadao asked, “Didn’t I see in your records that you have a family? If I’m not being too personal, what do they think about you spending months away from them in an Antarctic research base?”

“That’s OK, I don’t mind you asking. While neither of us are particularly happy about my extended absence, my wife and I have a similar enthusiasm about science and the possibility of other intelligent life in the universe. It’s part of what brought us together in the first place. It doesn’t hurt that the pay is good as well. On the other hand, my daughter is a little young to appreciate the importance of this discovery and was hardly happy about my going."

Sadao nodded. “It’s rough on a lot of the staff here, being separated from their families for so long. But at least we have a good satellite link to the Internet through Gehirn. You’ll be able to stay in touch in your free time . . . that is, unless we have a lot of data to send or receive. You do know that any communication concerning this expedition, anything about the White Moon or its contents, is forbidden? The MAGI system monitors all outside communications and will immediately interrupt at any mention.”

“Yes. I was briefed when I signed on with Gehirn, and again before my flight down here. I’ll be good.”

“I think I’ll let you settle in here now. Besides Gary, there are two others assigned to this suite. Gary can introduce you to them later.”

Gary nodded. “Can do. The others are on-duty this shift. They should be back around dinner time.”

“After dinner I can let you have a look into the Moon from the observation platform, if you like,” Sadao continued.

With a delighted expression, Jiro replied, “That would be great. I was kind of expecting I’d only see whatever I was allowed through remote cameras.”

Jiro’s enthusiasm caused Sadao and Gary to smile.

“You might be disappointed none the less. There isn’t much to see but buckled decking littered with a fair amount of debris. The trip down through the shaft to the ‘Top of the Moon’ is at least as interesting,” Sadao cautioned.

“I’m sure I’ll find it all fascinating. Thank you! Just knowing that what I’ll see was made by some alien civilization is fantastic.”

Sadao moved over to the door. “OK, then. I’d better get going. Other duties are pressing. I’ll meet you here after dinner. . . Gary.” Nodding to Weston and Ibuki, he left them to their own devices, shutting the door as he departed.

“You’ll want to stow your gear, I imagine.” Weston gestured, indicating the features of the room in which they stood, “On the other side of those four doors there are tiny bedrooms, barely large enough to hold a bed and a small closet. I understand it’s a design familiar to many Japanese. That one there, being the only one vacant, is yours. On the other side of that other door is a small lavatory containing a toilet, a sink, a shower, and not much else. As you can guess, this is our common room.”

Jiro looked around briefly, noting a book case about two-thirds full of technical manuals, video and sound recordings, and well-used paperbacks. The walls sported a few photographs and posters, most of tropical island settings. He nodded towards a small sound system sitting on top of the book case. “I don’t see any speakers for that.”

“Aren’t any. Same for the video player next to it. They wired in headphone jacks instead. You can see them just above the back of that couch over there. Most people have earphones or something they brought with them. Keeps us from disturbing each other.”

“Makes sense, I guess. . . . I noticed you were working on something when we came in. I’ll let you get back to it while I go unpack. Thanks for the grand tour,” The last was delivered with an ironic grin since the 'grand tour' was accomplished by Weston turning around in place and gesturing.

“No problem. I should be able to finish up with another hour’s work. After that, we can go get some dinner.” So saying, he sat back down at the terminal on the desk.

Jiro entered his room and found it pretty much as described. It was clean, neat, simple, and a model of efficiency. After putting away his clothes and other stuff, he decided a short nap wouldn’t hurt. The plane trip had been exhausting after all.

He remembered kicking off his shoes, laying down, and noting that the bed was surprisingly comfortable. The next thing he knew, someone was knocking on his door and calling his name.

“Jiro, are you awake? It’s time for dinner.” He recognized Weston’s voice.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be out in a minute.

They shortly joined a general migration of personnel walking toward the cafeteria. While the evening meal wasn’t five-star by any stretch of the imagination, it was reasonably good, especially given that the kitchen staff had attempted to provide dishes that their varied international customers could enjoy. Fresh fruit and vegetables were a little sad by virtue of all of the food having to be airlifted in once a week. They were probably overdue for another shipment, Jiro guessed.

~-~-~-~

“ . . . So I understand that the modified-spectrum scans are starting to produce usable data.”

“Yes, we’ve taken what worked on earlier test scans and modified the new ones accordingly. We can now tell that we have enough of a good signal above the background noise that it will be useful to process it for images and spectroscopic analysis.”

The conversation started gaining some life when it wandered around to a subject that interested everyone at the shared table. With him were Rolf, another scientist, Gary, and a few others. Jiro considered it an added bonus that the conversation gave him an early start on part of his job . . . that of helping the scientists present the data they gathered in a way more easily digested by the human mind.

In order to do so, Jiro had to get a good idea of the methods used to obtain the data in the first place. Once that was nailed down in detail, he could select appropriate algorithms and processing modules that would best produce a meaningful visual representation of the data sets, alone or in combination. To say that the conversation had turned technical would be an understatement.

“Tell you what. I’ll email you an abstract of the scanning methods used with links to the detailed notes. That way you won’t have to write it all down in that little notebook you’ve been scribbling in.”

“Great. That makes it a lot easier, and probably a lot more readable. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

~-~-~-

It had been only a few minutes since Jiro had finished his evening meal and the conversations, and he was making his way back to his suite to meet Sadao. A feeling of eager excitement mixed with a bit of primal ‘fear of the unknown’ rose in him as he speculated on what he would soon be seeing with his own eyes . . . the interior of what for all intents and purposes had to be an ancient alien spacecraft! Given the age of the rock encasing it, rock that had been molten when the huge sphere had come to rest, it was impossible to argue that the White Moon had been made by anyone native to this planet.

Sadao and a couple of other men were talking quietly when Ibuki entered his assigned suite. “Ah! Jiro, I’d like you to meet your other room-mates. This is Wu Zheng-shen. He’s our xeno-biologist. I’ll let him explain what he does later. Over there is Bayard Delauney our mining engineer. He’s also our expert spelunker. Gentlemen, this is Jiro Ibuki, a computer analyst who specializes in graphic visualization of data sets.”

They shook hands and made the usual polite greetings.

“So, Jiro, are you ready to go see why we’re all here in the land of ice and snow?”

“Yes, sir! Whenever you are.” Jiro’s eager grin would have marked him as a newbie even without the introductions and was infectious enough to cause the others to smile tolerantly in return.

“We’ll stop by to pick up our cold weather gear on the way. The White Moon has been here cooling down for a long time and is big enough that we haven’t bothered trying to heat the interior,” Sadao said by way of explanation as they walked back in the direction of the entrance.

A few minutes later, they paused to don the parkas they’d retrieved and passed through the large door to the freight receiving area. Sadao led the way off to the left and soon stopped before a large freight elevator door. He swiped an ID card through a reader next to it and waited.

Soon a no-nonsense voice came over a small speaker. “Clearly state your given and family names in that order.”

As soon as Sadao did as commanded, a red indicator light came on next to what looked like a binocular eyepiece mounted on the wall.

“Look through the eyepiece and focus on the dot in the center of your field of view.”

After he did so, there was a short pause and then a beep. The indicator by the eyepiece turned green and Sadao straightened up again

“Swipe your guest’s ID card.”

Sadao retrieved another red plastic card from an inner pocket and swiped it.

“You may proceed.”

There was a click in the mechanism somewhere behind the elevator door and it slid upward, allowing them to enter. When Sadao pressed a button, the door slid down and locked shut with another click. He turned to Jiro and explained, “I’ll have Section-2 finish entering you into the system tomorrow. After you have your eyes scanned, your picture taken in 3-D, and your fingerprints reconfirmed, they’ll issue your ID card for this installation. Your Gehirn card will identify you, but it won’t open any doors. You’ll need your new .....” A bump interrupted him and they felt themselves drop.

They both grabbed hand holds on the wall. From the sensation of lightness and the queasy feeling in his stomach, Jiro could tell that they were accelerating downward rapidly. After about ten seconds, the feeling abated, but a whine from machinery overhead and vibration of the floor of the elevator car confirmed their continued fall.

“.... your new card to get into any of the labs, computer rooms and offices for which you have authorized access,” He finished. “Are you alright? You look a little pale.”

“Uh, I’m OK. But this is the fastest elevator I’ve ever ridden. I wasn’t expecting the feeling of falling to be so strong. How deep are we going?”

Sadao allowed himself a brief smile at Jiro’s discomfort. “The ice here is just over four-hundred meters thick. We’re going all the way to the bedrock. From there, we’ll have a short walk over to the next elevator that will take us down to the top of the Moon. That’s another five hundred fifty meters or so.” He always enjoyed the ‘deer in the headlights’ look on the newly initiated. At an electronic chime sound he told Jiro, “Grab that hand hold again. We’re going to decelerate,” as he did the same for himself. Their subjective weight climbed rapidly as the elevator quickly slowed, causing Jiro to fear his legs were going to buckle.

Finally normal gravity returned, leaving them feeling temporarily lighter than usual again. There was another chime and the door automatically opened. Jiro followed his guide on shaky legs through a large gallery with walls and ceiling of what appeared to be a remarkable other-worldly blue colored glass. The surface was all shallowly undulating bumps and hollows, but otherwise perfectly smooth and transparent. The rock embedded in it from floor level to about shoulder high was chunks of random sizes and shapes from sand grains to huge boulders, some of it protruding slightly from the wall. An ongoing chorus of random groans, moans, snaps, and squeals echoed around them.

Sadao raised his voice to make himself heard. “Of course, what you are seeing is the bottom of a huge Antarctic glacier. The ice has been compressed by the overlying weight for so long that all of the bubbles of gas have been squeezed out of it, rendering it almost perfectly clear. The broken rock near the bottom is what the ice plucked from the bedrock, the rock you’re walking on, as it slowly ground along downhill. All of these strange sounds are caused by that grinding action.”

A few individuals, dressed as heavily as they were, passed them going in the opposite direction, apparently heading for the elevator. A couple of them raised a hand in recognition as they walked by.

Sadao nodded to them and continued with his lecture, undoubtedly honed to near perfection over the course of many tours. “This gallery moves along with the ice as does the installation we left on the surface and the elevator we just rode. However, the shaft through the bedrock down to the White Moon doesn’t move of course, so the size and position of this room was designed to allow for the movement while keeping the next elevator shaft accessible over time. Every so often this gallery will have to be expanded uphill to maintain that access. . . . Here we are.”

They paused in front of a smaller, that is, normal-size elevator while Sadao pushed the ‘call’ button. The door slid sideways and Jiro followed him in, being sure to find a handhold immediately. With the push of another button, the door closed and they began another mad plunge.

“I’m curious to know where things stand currently. How much of the White Moon has been explored?” Jiro asked as soon as his stomach settled down.

“Not much just yet. The scientists have located what seem to be interesting items from the observation platform using binoculars and telescopes. Teams are visiting the areas and collecting what data and samples they can. None of it is recognizable. The few small, apparently intact, items that could be brought back are being tested and analyzed. I understand that they seem inert. They don’t react to any electromagnetic radiation or chemicals they’ve tried so far and X-rays don’t penetrate, so no one has any idea what might be inside. You’ll get a chance to look at a few later on.

“You’ll see that the visible decking was apparently ripped from its mountings in a crash. It now lies at an average of eleven degrees from the horizontal and large areas are buckled. Lower deck layers can be seen around the edges and appear to be similarly damaged. We’re hoping to find a way to map some portion of the lower layers using the scans that have been in progress for several weeks now. You’ll appreciate that given the size of the White Moon, it would take years to do a full exploration. Most of the effort is going into identifying locations that might be of special interest and exploring those first.”

At the sounding of a chime, Sadao fell quiet and they both renewed their grips on the hand-holds. Seconds later deceleration built up, giving them plenty to do just to remain standing. A short time later, it started easing off, finally ceasing altogether.

They walked out of the elevator into a busy area and moved to the side to remove their parkas. It was warmer here and most of the people in sight wore lab coats over normal indoor clothing. The area where they found themselves resembled nothing so much as an office cubicle warren set up in a mine. Fluorescent lighting was supported overhead by a grid frame, the dark ceiling lost to sight in the glare. Regularly spaced pillars of dark gray granite had been rough-hewn from the native rock and no doubt left in place to support the ceiling as the area was hollowed out. The floor was part of the same rock, only leveled and smoothed to allow easy movement of equipment carts and, incidentally, foot traffic. Looking into the distance, Jiro could see that the walls had been left rough as well. Preoccupied scientists and technicians walked here and there, reading computer print-outs as they went, somehow missing each other and the rock pillars. Unintelligibly quiet conversations mixed with the whir of equipment cooling fans and the footsteps of those on the move. All of it bounced off of the exposed rock surfaces in a noticeable reverberation that hinted at the size of the artificial cavern.

“This is where the data gathered from various scans and sensors in the Moon are given preliminary inspection and analysis. It’s all both immediately saved to archive disks and sent via satellite link back to Gehirn for detailed analysis and evaluation by the MAGI system there. Eventually some of it returns in digested form if it is deemed necessary for our work by the powers-that-be. The teams here are a little irritated at the arrangement because, being normally curious scientists, they would like to do more analysis, evaluation and interpretation right here where the action is. Their argument is that it would shorten the cycle whereby new results can be applied in the field to facilitate better and faster data acquisition, and used to learn where to focus their attention rather than just investigating randomly everywhere. And that, as I understand it, is where your work comes in.”

Jiro raised an eyebrow at that. “So I’m here more because the scientists on-site wanted that capability than because Gehirn wanted me here?”

“Largely, yes. Don’t misunderstand, though. You wouldn’t be here at all if the ‘higher-ups’ back at Gehirn were at all opposed. . . . Ah. Here we are.”

While they conversed, Watanabe had led Ibuki to a large, dimly lit, room-like area within the cavern, where numerous large flat-panel displays were showing scenes of what were probably the upper deck area inside the White Moon, as well as streaming columns of numeric data or groups of arcane symbols that came and went every few seconds.

“There is an instrument package suspended by cable from the underside of the observation platform. A lot of what you are seeing on the screens is data transmitted here from sensors in the package. This is what Rolf was describing to you at dinner this evening. He's one of several people you'll be working with. Shall we continue?”

At Jiro’s nod, Sadao led them out of the room and to their left down a wide corridor between the cubicles. At its end they came up before a heavy-looking metal door that would have been at home on a submarine or a spacecraft. It was secured by numerous thick pins or bolts around its circumference that had been slid outward into matching holes in the equally heavy-duty door frame by a hidden mechanism. The frame itself was part of a metal wall that closed off a narrowed end of the cavern.

“Beyond this is the entrance to the White Moon. Not really knowing what to expect once they managed to breach the outer shell, the scientists had the mining engineers install a heavily over-engineered air lock complete with quick-sealing blast doors similar to those used in government bomb shelters. So far, it has been overkill, since nothing poisonous, explosive, or contagious has been found to date. Even so, only one door is ever opened at a time, and strict decontamination and air-lock protocols are maintained. We’ll pause here to put on our parkas and some cleanroom coveralls, shoe covers, and so on. You’ll hear people refer to the outfits as “bunny suits” from time to time. We don’t want to track anything into or out of that environment. In part, it allows us stay confident of identifying small particles and microbes we find on samples as belonging only to the White Moon.”

Jiro had been keeping quiet out of a combination of nervousness, awe and humility inspired by his surroundings. For him it was beyond just being impressive. The fact that he was about to enter a huge spacecraft that was built by bona fide aliens had truly begun to sink in, making him numb. The surreal idea of coming face to face with their technology was beginning to seriously erode his comfort zone. Jiro quietly accepted the garments handed to him and suited up, watching Sadao and others to learn how it was done. In fact, he was so subdued he didn’t even feel like commenting on the silly looking light blue shower cap headgear they had to wear.

The five of them waiting in the “bunny suits” stepped forward when the lock finished cycling open and a green “gumball” light on the wall nearby lit up. A strong flow of air moved past them and out into the cavern until the massive door clanged shut behind them, leaving them in an odd deep purple light emitted by numerous fluorescent fixtures in the walls and ceiling of the chamber. A few seconds later, the lighting switched to normal color.

“Special ultraviolet lamps to kill off microbes,” Sadao commented. The second door of the airlock clunked when its bolts were withdrawn, and began swinging outward. As they waited, the air temperature plummeted, causing dense clouds to form when they exhaled.

Jiro felt tugging at his shoes accompanied by a crackling sound as he lifted his feet from the floor.

“Combination electrostatic and adhesive shoe cleaners. Much better than your standard doormat,” someone answered Jiro’s silent question. Apparently his ‘newbie’ status was clearly visible to all.

They filed out of the airlock into another chamber hewn out of the rock, this one roughly circular in shape, about ten meters in diameter and three in height. There were various pieces of equipment sitting near the circumference, one with thick power cables running to it and a large international “radiation danger” emblem on its side.

Sadao caught Jiro’s somewhat alarmed expression along with what he was looking at. “That’s a particle accelerator modified to maximize its anti-matter output. The scientists found that positrons were able to erode the material of the White Moon’s outer shell at a reasonable rate where everything else they tried failed. Chemical reagents just beaded up and ran off the surface. They wore out several diamond drill bits just to get enough microscopic shell particles to run tests on. Hydrogen plasma torches were totally ineffective.”

Another of their party gestured toward the center of the room where there was a steel framework supported on four girder-like legs over a shallow circular pit about three meters across and about thirty centimeters deep. At the bottom of the pit was an iridescent white surface appearing totally regular and smooth. Hanging from the overhead grid was a cage-like lift that would have been at home on a construction site or in a mine. Below the lift, a rectangular opening a little larger than the one by one and a half meters of the lift’s outer dimensions had been cut in the white surface.

“Is that white area . . .” Jiro swallowed once, trying to formulate his question intelligibly. “-is it the . . . ” The positron cutting ‘tool’ was enough to indicate just how close to the razor's edge they were. They could be on the threshold of learning whole new worlds of knowledge, or sitting on a ticking time-bomb and not even know it until it was too late.

There was a little tolerant chuckling in the group. “Yes. That’s the White Moon, at least the little bit of it that we’ve uncovered. Go ahead, have a closer look,” Sadao offered.

Jiro slowly, almost reverently, walked over to the edge of the pit and hunkered down. His heart was pounding from his excitement. He hadn’t felt this way since he’d been a young kid at his birthday party . . . the one where his parents had given him the reflector telescope with a computer-guided mount that he had been lusting over for months. He carefully lowered himself until he was laying on his belly, his head and shoulders out over the white material. He tentatively extended his arm and lightly touched his mitten to the surface and immediately pulled it back, perhaps expecting some kind of reaction. Emboldened when nothing happened, he removed his mitten and held his bare hand close over the whiteness for a moment, sensing neither heat nor cold. Then he repeated the touch, again breaking contact immediately. Next, he lightly brushed his fingers across the surface of the shell, marveling at the smoothness. Finally he put his hand flat on the surface.

The rest of the party had quietly watched all of this with knowing grins and were not surprised in the least when Jiro’s whole body jerked and he came quickly to his feet, backing away from the edge of the pit.

“I felt a tingling, almost a vibration!” he said nervously.

“Don’t worry. Everyone does almost the same thing you did the first time they get the chance. Anyone who puts their hand flat against that stuff feels what you felt. No one notices anything from a brief touch or a light brush against it. Did you notice anything else when you touched it?”

“It felt warm. Not hot. . . just barely warm.”

“It turns out that the material is an almost perfect thermal and electrical insulator. The surface immediately warms up to the temperature of whatever touches it, but only where there’s contact. You were feeling the temperature of your own hand. Just before you touched it, it was below freezing, the same temperature as the air in this room. It’s also a great radiator in that any energy it picks up it radiates away very quickly until it becomes the same temperature as its environment. Oh, by the way, I’m Joshua Gefen, a physicist specializing in thermodynamics, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Jiro Ibuki, computer analyst.” Jiro shook hands with the scientist. “But what about that strange tingling sensation?”

“No idea. Not that we haven’t tried to figure it out. It just doesn’t register on any instruments we’ve used to date. Oddly enough, lab animals don’t seem to feel it . . . only humans so far.”

While they were talking, Sadao had thrown a switch, lowering a ramp so that it spanned the distance from the rock at the edge of the pit to the lift. “Everyone ready to continue?”

There were nods all around and they were soon crowded into the lift, descending slowly through the outer shell of the White Moon. Jiro was surprised to see that it was less than a half-meter thick. Below that, bright lights shining up at them temporarily blinded him. He turned away from the view outside and back to his fellow passengers.

His guide resumed his tour lecture. . . “The ramp we used to board this lift was installed for more than convenience. Of course it makes things easier, especially if you are loading something on wheels. But the interesting thing is that the Moon’s shell material is so smooth and friction free that anyone trying to walk on it would fall down almost immediately. Here we are.”

After a descent of only about ten meters the lift came to a stop, its floor level with a large steel platform, where everyone disembarked. Jiro took the opportunity to inspect his surroundings. The platform area was evenly lit by bright work lights that had been aimed upward to reflect off of the inside of the Moon's shell, which was just as white as the bit of the outside he had inspected earlier. The resulting illumination of the platform was free of glaring hot-spots or dark shadows. Yet as he allowed his eyes to wander away from the area of the platform, he found little to look at. He was standing near the middle and he could see nothing beyond the safety railing at its edge except the very gradual curve of the inside of the White Moon’s shell. Even this was limited since the light level quickly dropped off to empty murky blackness all around. The next thing he noticed was that aside from nearby subdued noises from the people moving around or talking, it was eerily quiet. Oppressively quiet. And despite the warm parka, he felt a penetrating chill in the absolutely still air. In the area of the platform itself, he could see what appeared to be two other lifts a short distance to either side of the one he’d just used. The scientists that had ridden with him appeared to be inspecting some instruments mounted to the bottom of one. The car to the other lift was apparently somewhere below, the area within its safety gate empty except for a group of cables hanging straight down through the floor. Elsewhere on the platform he could see several work stations where technicians inspected images on screens and typed commands on keyboards, some using their headsets to converse quietly with distant counterparts. Near the framework of the absent lift was an assortment of crates packed on a cart.

Sadao had been waiting as Jiro satisfied his curiosity about their immediate surroundings and when he seemed to be finished, asked, “Would you like to take a look from the edge of the platform? I assure you that it is safe enough, although some have commented on a slight feeling of vertigo when they looked downward.”

“That would be great!” Jiro enthused. His spirit had recovered, as if the mild jolt from the surface of the white moon had reenergized him. They walked a short distance to a section of railing where a binocular telescope had been mounted so that an observer could safely use it while it was aimed at targets below. For the moment it was ignored while Jiro and Sadao carefully walked over, grasped the rail, leaned out a little and looked down. At first, there appeared to be nothing but inky blackness below, with no clue available to judge depth by. All they could see was the condensed moisture from their breaths. Slowly, as their eyes adjusted to the lack of light, sparks like dim stars became visible, scattered sparsely below.

Jiro turned to his guide and remarked, “I don't know why, but I was kind of expecting the interior to be lit.”

“The previous tenants didn’t leave the lights on and I’m afraid that it’s not practical for us to do it. The area is just too big. Remember that this structure is over ten kilometers in diameter. The deck area below us is from three to four kilometers down, resting at an average of about eleven degrees from the horizontal. The power requirements alone would be more than we could manage, even if we had light sources that could do the job. We satisfy ourselves with lighting the areas that are being explored. But there are various other ways of seeing what is down there. Laser radar works pretty well, and night vision technology helps a lot. Would you like to try out a telescope equipped with it?” Sadao gestured to the nearby instrument.

“It has a computer-guided mount, and all of the current areas of interest are stored for easy retrieval. Choosing one from the list causes the mount to point the ‘scope in the right direction. You’ll be able to view directly through the eyepieces or on the screen of the laptop. The later has the advantage of having adjustable filters, detail enhancement, and all of the other bells-and-whistles common in ‘digital darkroom’ applications.”

Jiro inspected the laptop mounted conveniently near the scope, and used the touch pad to select a random item from the list on the right. The faint whir of an electric motor started up and the image on the laptop screen panned as the telescope sought the new orientation. He opted for looking through the eyepieces first and stepped up on the small raised platform intended for the viewer, the butterflies in his stomach determining that he needed to grip the chest-high safety rail tightly to feel safe enough to peer through the scope. Due to the binocular configuration of the telescope, the scene he viewed conveyed impressions of distance and size. He found he was looking down on what looked vaguely like a sheet of gray paper that had been wrinkled and then mostly straightened out. There were objects of various sizes and shapes, mostly rounded rectangular structures, but there were a few cylindrical shapes as well. Some appeared to be lying on their sides, with the material around what would have been the bottom looking torn and twisted. In the lower left part of his field of view were some tiny objects that looked out of place.

Sadao had taken his position before the laptop, selected the ‘Increase Magnification’ function and said, “I’ll zoom in a little on the area in your number three quadrant.”

Jiro heard the mouse clicks and saw his field of view change as promised. What had previously been odd-looking but unidentifiable tiny things now became recognizable as the overhead view of a camp complete with tents, a golf-cart-like vehicle with oversize wheels, and small moving figures, humans in parkas. “Any idea what the structures were for?”

“None at all. Preliminary reports indicate that whatever technology was used by the builders, it's totally unrecognizable so far. I'm sure that will change in time. The scientists in this expedition want to construct accurate maps, identify which finds are most important if possible, document everything thoroughly, and preserve everything in as close to its original condition as possible. Detailed analysis of the various objects is expected to take a long time, maybe a hundred years or more. Depends on lucky breakthroughs, I imagine.

“I'm going to point the 'scope at a different site now. You might want to wait to observe until it acquires it's new coordinates. The panning speed is too rapid to be able to make out much in any case, and it's more likely to produce some vertigo than not if you keep looking through the eyepieces.”

Sadao selected a new site, and the whisper of the telescope's drive motors started again. “Any questions while we're waiting?”

Jiro considered for a moment or two, then apparently thought of something of particular interest to him. His eyes opened wide and his head jerked up to directly face his guide. “Why don't we have to use air tanks, or oxygen or something? If this is an alien spacecraft, isn't it unlikely we can breathe what they breathed?”

Sadao smiled. “I was wondering when you'd get around to asking that. Yes, it would seem to be unlikely, but although the gas mix is different than the Earth's atmosphere, there's enough oxygen for us and no poisonous gases. There's less oxygen, carbon dioxide and nitrogen than we're used to, and more helium, argon and neon, not to mention a lot of other minor differences. Even so, the mix is not so different that it causes us any problems. The concern you've just expressed was on the minds of the group that was in charge here when the White Moon's shell was being first breached with the particle accelerator. Consequently, that rather formidable air lock was installed before they finished drilling through the shell. Since they couldn't determine the gas mix or pressure beforehand, they played it safe. Likewise, they had no idea about what, if any, life forms were inside. Two-way decontamination was much more stringent initially. After they found that the few microbes present quickly died in contact with lab animal and human tissue, and were immediately killed by ultraviolet wavelengths equivalent to a sunny day at the beach, the decontamination protocols we went through today were deemed more than cautious enough.”

Jiro visibly relaxed. “I should have realized that if no one else was concerned, I didn't have to worry.”

At that point, the quiet whine from the telescope's mount stopped. Sadao glanced at the laptop's screen to verify the expected coordinates and said, “If you'll look through the scope now, you should be able to make out something reasonably interesting. You will be looking at an area that shows both shell wall and decking.”

Jiro leaned over to the eyepieces and nodded. “OK. I see the concave shape of the shell. It's more noticeable at this distance. And . . . I see . . . I guess I'm seeing several layers of decking, with the edges of some lower levels showing beyond the edges of the levels above. What a mess! If the deck material is anywhere near as tough as you tell me the shell material is, it must have taken an almighty bad crash to tear everything loose like that!”

“Yes. Well, even though the deck material is many times stronger and more durable than the best alloys we have, the scientists have been able to determine that it is still weaker than the shell material. They described it to me this way . . . an extremely hot plasma torch can melt thin sections of it. A standard meter stick made of the deck material, secured horizontally at one end, would support five metric tons hanging from the other end without flexing more than a centimeter. A diamond drill can slowly make some headway . . . the hardness seems close to equal. So the crash that did this damage makes it extremely unlikely that we'll find any organism larger than a microbe intact. And since I'm sure you were going to ask, we have yet to find any organism, living or dead, larger than a microbe.”

Jiro expressed his appreciation with a low whistle. “Has anyone been able to duplicate that material yet?”

“No. The usual tests don’t produce any meaningful results. But you can be assured that some very smart people are working hard on that little project. I keep hearing phrases like “exotic matter” being thrown around during discussions at meal times.

“Have any recordings or samples of writing been found?”

“We’re still hoping, but so far, no. No signs, labels, or documents. No marks that look like symbols of any kind. . . . It’s nearly ten pm local time, so maybe we should be starting back. Do you have any other questions before we leave?”

“About a thousand, but they’ll keep.”

Sadao shut down the telescope’s laptop and they turned to walk back to the lift.

- - - - - - -

End of the first chapter.

I hope readers find this an interesting tale. I've tried to write this in such a way that the events could have happened "off camera" or in the background without requiring any changes in the events portrayed in the original series, at least until the 14th angel. Many of the more familiar characters will be appearing later on.

Pre-reading was done by Squire of Gothos. Many thanks, amigo.