times, clinging to the wall, each moment closer to panic and fury.
I was looking back over my left shoulder, creeping to my right, when my hand fell into emptiness. I stopped with a low moan, trying to keep my balance on the ledge, waving for a grip, and felt a gloved hand take hold of my arm.
I turned and saw Charles right beside me. Sorry, he said. I forgot we wouldnt be able to talk through the rock. Youre fine. Just step in
We stood in the entrance to a cave. I hugged Charles tightly, saying nothing until my hammering heart had settled.
The cavern stabbed deep into the fissure wall, ending in black obscurity. Its ceiling rose five or six meters above our heads. The fissures opposite wall reflected enough afternoon sunlight into the cavern that we could see each other clearly. Charles lifted the torch and handed it to me. Its the last gasp, he said.
What? I still hadnt recovered my wits.
Weve gone from alpha to omega.
I scowled at him for his deliberate mystery, but he wasnt looking at me.
Gradually, I realized the cavern was not areological. The glass-smooth walls reflected the backwash of light with an oily green sheen. Gossamer, web-like filaments hard as rock stretched across the interior and flashed in my wavering torch beam. Shards of filament littered the floor like lost fairy knives. I stood in the silence, absorbing the obvious: the tunnel had once been part of something alive.
Its an aqueduct bridge, Charles said. Omega and Mother Ecos.
This wasnt a cavern at all, but part of a colossal pipeline, a fossil fragment of Marss largest and last living things. I had never heard of an aqueduct bridge surviving intact.
This section grew into the fissure about half a billion years ago. Loess and flopsand filled the branch because it ran counter to the prevailing winds. Cling and jetsand covered the aqueduct, but didnt stop it from pumping water to the south. When the Ecos failed and the water stopped, this part died along with all the other pipes, but it was protected. Come on.
Charles urged me deeper. We stepped around and under the internal supports for the vast organic pipe. Water once carried by this aqueduct had fed billions of hectares of green and purple lands, a natural irrigation system greater than anything humans had ever built.
These had been the true canals of Mars, but they had died long before they could have been seen by Schiaparelli or Percival Lowell.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. Its beautiful, I said as we walked deeper. Is it safe?
Its been here for five hundred million years, Charles said. The walls are almost pure silica, built up in layers half a meter thick. I doubt it will fall on us now.
Light ghosted ahead. Charles paused for me to pick my way through a lattice of thick green-black filaments, then extended his arm for me to go first. My breath sounded harsh in the confines of the helmet.
Its easier up ahead. Sandy floor, good walking.
The pipe opened onto a murky chamber. For a moment, I couldnt get any clear notion of size, but high above, a hole opened to black sky and I saw stars. The glow that diffused across the chamber came from a patch of golden sunlight gliding clockslow across the rippled sand floor.
Its a storage tank, Charles said. And a pumping station. Kind of like TrHaut Mc.
Its immense, I said.
About fifty meters across. Not quite a sphere. The hole probably eroded through a few hundred years ago.
Earth years.
Right, he said, grinning.
I looked at the concentric ripples in the sand, imagining the puff and blow of the winds coming through the ceiling breach. I nudged loose dust and flopsand with my boot. This went beyond confidence. Charles had guided me into genuine privilege, vouchsafed to very few. I cant believe it.
What? Charles asked expectantly, pleased with himself.
I shrugged, unable to explain.
I suppose eventually well bring in LitVid, maybe even open it to tourists, he said. My father wanted it kept in the family for a few decades, but I
I was looking back over my left shoulder, creeping to my right, when my hand fell into emptiness. I stopped with a low moan, trying to keep my balance on the ledge, waving for a grip, and felt a gloved hand take hold of my arm.
I turned and saw Charles right beside me. Sorry, he said. I forgot we wouldnt be able to talk through the rock. Youre fine. Just step in
We stood in the entrance to a cave. I hugged Charles tightly, saying nothing until my hammering heart had settled.
The cavern stabbed deep into the fissure wall, ending in black obscurity. Its ceiling rose five or six meters above our heads. The fissures opposite wall reflected enough afternoon sunlight into the cavern that we could see each other clearly. Charles lifted the torch and handed it to me. Its the last gasp, he said.
What? I still hadnt recovered my wits.
Weve gone from alpha to omega.
I scowled at him for his deliberate mystery, but he wasnt looking at me.
Gradually, I realized the cavern was not areological. The glass-smooth walls reflected the backwash of light with an oily green sheen. Gossamer, web-like filaments hard as rock stretched across the interior and flashed in my wavering torch beam. Shards of filament littered the floor like lost fairy knives. I stood in the silence, absorbing the obvious: the tunnel had once been part of something alive.
Its an aqueduct bridge, Charles said. Omega and Mother Ecos.
This wasnt a cavern at all, but part of a colossal pipeline, a fossil fragment of Marss largest and last living things. I had never heard of an aqueduct bridge surviving intact.
This section grew into the fissure about half a billion years ago. Loess and flopsand filled the branch because it ran counter to the prevailing winds. Cling and jetsand covered the aqueduct, but didnt stop it from pumping water to the south. When the Ecos failed and the water stopped, this part died along with all the other pipes, but it was protected. Come on.
Charles urged me deeper. We stepped around and under the internal supports for the vast organic pipe. Water once carried by this aqueduct had fed billions of hectares of green and purple lands, a natural irrigation system greater than anything humans had ever built.
These had been the true canals of Mars, but they had died long before they could have been seen by Schiaparelli or Percival Lowell.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. Its beautiful, I said as we walked deeper. Is it safe?
Its been here for five hundred million years, Charles said. The walls are almost pure silica, built up in layers half a meter thick. I doubt it will fall on us now.
Light ghosted ahead. Charles paused for me to pick my way through a lattice of thick green-black filaments, then extended his arm for me to go first. My breath sounded harsh in the confines of the helmet.
Its easier up ahead. Sandy floor, good walking.
The pipe opened onto a murky chamber. For a moment, I couldnt get any clear notion of size, but high above, a hole opened to black sky and I saw stars. The glow that diffused across the chamber came from a patch of golden sunlight gliding clockslow across the rippled sand floor.
Its a storage tank, Charles said. And a pumping station. Kind of like TrHaut Mc.
Its immense, I said.
About fifty meters across. Not quite a sphere. The hole probably eroded through a few hundred years ago.
Earth years.
Right, he said, grinning.
I looked at the concentric ripples in the sand, imagining the puff and blow of the winds coming through the ceiling breach. I nudged loose dust and flopsand with my boot. This went beyond confidence. Charles had guided me into genuine privilege, vouchsafed to very few. I cant believe it.
What? Charles asked expectantly, pleased with himself.
I shrugged, unable to explain.
I suppose eventually well bring in LitVid, maybe even open it to tourists, he said. My father wanted it kept in the family for a few decades, but I
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