The Deep Dark Well Read Online Free PDF Page B

substantial than air between her and the
cosmic disruption that threatened to come blasting out of the shimmering mouth
of the wormhole.
    And then it was gone,
so quickly she blinked her eyes and it had faded from existence before they had
reopened.  The wormhole was gone, whether cut off by the mass of printed
circuitry now revealed in the empty alcove, or a natural action of the energy
that was preparing to flow from past to future, she didn't know.  All she truly
knew was that the danger was gone, for the moment at least, and the chances of
her survival had been greatly increased.
    But where am I? she thought, looking
up at the quadruple gallery of wormhole gates that stretched across the long
wall.  All in the shape of a, a Torii, if she remembered the name right, the
traditional Shinto gateway whose horizontal bars reached toward heaven.  Golden
in color, with strange symbols etched into the lower crossbar, and glowing with
some unknown radiation from the squares between crossbars and centerpiece.  At
least some were glowing; the ones with a shimmering red wall of, something,
over what would be the entrance to the gate.  Many were as dead as the one she
had just passed through, walls of circuits and shapes of unguessable purpose in
the alcoves the wormhole end would inhabit if working. 
    All of the gates that
she could see seemed to be of similar dimensions, with an opening about eight
meters wide by four meters tall, able to pass even small vehicles with ease, it
would seem.  Set in cells, three on the first and third levels, two on the
second and fourth, with what looked like lift tubes and stairs between each
cell.  Pandi craned her head up to look at the wall that continued up to an
arched marbled ceiling, centered over a hundred meters above.  Swiveling her
head as her mind tried to take in all the strangeness around her, she noted
with some detachment that the near end wall was about a half K to her right. 
Her head shifted swiftly to the left, and her breath left her lungs in a rush. 
The wall went on for what must have been at least three kilometers, holding
hundreds of gates, if not thousands.  Still in shock, she stumbled around till
she was facing the parallel wall, over a hundred and fifty meters away. 
Another endless wall of gates, across an open area of benches, planters filled
with flowers familiar and strange, low structures that reminded her nothing more
than underground station entrances, long pools of water.  A tremendous
structure, she thought through a confused mind. But, where?
    The helmet's heads up
display indicated that the air was breathable, and of a very comfortable
temperature.  Gravity seemed about Earth normal, and she didn't feel the
characteristic unsteadiness of a spinning structure, so she thought it had to
be a planet.  Then she thought of the wonderful technology of the gates, and a
natural feeling artificial gravity no longer seemed so far fetched.
    Pandora Latham sat on
one of the benches, near a large planter of strange purple flowers, and cracked
the seal of her helmet.  Fresh, sweetly fragrant air greeted her olfactory
sense, as she shook the sweat out of her hair and reveled in what felt like a
cool breeze on her face.  I'll live , she thought, since whatever this
place was seemed to be fully functioning, even the miniature gardens perfectly
tended.  If the natives are friendly.
    The tears caught her
off guard, pouring freely down her cheeks well before the images manifested
themselves in her mind.  The images of her crew mates.  Morrison, her lover,
not the best she had ever had, but his practiced and gentle touch would be
missed, as would his dry British wit.  McIntyre, the efficient but
unimaginative engineer.  Chavis, the good-natured man from her neighboring
state of Mississippi.  Even Zhokov, the lecher, who had turned out to be a
kindred spirit at the end.  All gone, gone before their time, on the edge of
the greatest adventure possible.  By