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Airholes

  By George Page III

  Copyright 2011 George Page III

  Print edition: Ruins Terra, Hadley Rille Press © 2007

  Author website: https://www.tgapgeorge.com

  ***

  ***

  Hix wiped the sweat from his brow with a napkin. It's too hot, he thought. He glanced at the grime that came off, wadded it up, and tossed it into the trashcan behind the bar. Too hot for me that's for sure. He took a swig of beer and tried to look over his notes. The excavations were going well, but he was too long from his wife, too far to get luxuries, and too stinking hot to do anything but sit in a dingy, dark bar and drink his perspiring beer.

  He knew Penfield should be out at the site, coaxing and coercing the work crews, interns, students, and volunteers to persevere despite the radiant sun and biting insects. The spirit of that man was contagious, inspiring… and annoying as hell to Hix. It was his first time working with the man from England, but even so, Penfield was one of the top site managers in the world and knew what he was doing. I should feel lucky I was able to hire him, Hix thought, if for nothing but his experience, knowledge, and the fact he can be out there in the heat instead of me.

  Loud, jovial laughter jolted Hix from his reverie as Penfield stomped into the bar, throwing a good-natured insult to the bartender and ordering a beer in the same breath. He threw himself into the chair next to Hix, clapping him on the shoulder.

  "We're making some real progress! Very exciting! I'm sure we'll be getting down to the meat in the next day or so!"

  "That's real good, Pen. I mean it, that's great." Hix was visibly fatigued by Penfield’s seemingly limitless exuberance.

  "Amazing your radar, it really is! It's making huge strides in archeology! I don't doubt that many mysteries will be explained much more quickly… almost as fast as the new mysteries are revealed that need to be solved. The historians have become hard pressed to keep up!”

  “Well, it wasn’t that dynamic of a field before.” said Hix. That may be the next frontier for me, he thought. I could reengineer the whole process of acquiring, analyzing, and disseminating all the new --well, old really-- information about the past. Could be good.

  "Ah, just what I needed," Penfield said as he reached for the beer placed before him. "Would you turn on the TV so we can see what's happening in the world," he asked and began chugging.

  The bartender simply nodded and turned on the large, but dusty TV. There were other channels in South Africa, but only CNN Headline News ever played in ‘The Sand Trap.’ That was Penfield’s name for the little bar in Tzunmajini, a remote roadside village prospering with the major archaeological dig on its outskirts.

  Discovering a buried city so close to civilization was both a blessing and a curse. The location allowed easy access to laborers and supplies, but there were the problems of keeping traffic and sightseers away, always a nuisance. All in all, Hix thought, we could have been farther in the desert wasteland, but I'm glad we're close to the bar… all things considered.

  ”Well, the politicians are at it again," mused Penfield eyeing the TV.

  “Yes, I suppose.” said Hix, clearly bored.

  When politics had reached their time limit, the view switched to a panoramic shot of the Mars landscape.

  "Well, still no life. Another, please." Penfield gestured toward the bartender.

  "I don't know what they were expecting to find. They've been able to see the surface for years. Maybe they were hoping for some mold spores or something," Hix said.

  "It doesn't matter anyway, there's going to be life there now,"

  "What do you mean?” Hix asked. “Are they finally going to send a manned mission?"

  "No. Well, maybe some day. You haven't been following this current mission?" asked Penfield.

  "Not really. It's just another robotic exploration, right?"

  "Partially, but they also brought along some Terra fauna to see if it can survive in that environment." Penfield said.

  "What! What did they send?"

  "Ants. Specifically some Alaskan types used to cold temperatures and lower oxygen levels. They started with those and bred some that should be quite comfortable on Mars."

  "That's crazy! What's the point?” Hix exclaimed. “Hey look everybody! We've got ants on Mars!"

  "Well, I'm sure it will have great scientific value," Penfield deadpanned and tried to hide his growing smile behind a gulp of beer.

  Hix chuckled. “So, how goes the project?”

  “Wonderful! I still can’t believe how much better you’ve made things.”

  “Well, thanks Pen.”

  An outsider to the science world, Hix had been drawn in by a nephew who managed archaeological digs for a living. He had once visited his relative in Palestine and watched him work. That day, Hix was inspired by thoughts of a modern version to this very old process. He teamed up with other like-minded technophiles who brought to the table a conglomerate of technology used in vastly different areas of commerce. Technology like the Penetrator radar, once used to measure the innards of ships and airplanes for terrorist bombs, guns, etc., now worked to detect buried objects. Mounting the P.R. on a low-flying airplane was Hix's best idea and yielded vast results including the current excavation.

  Hix had filled the site with modern machinery and technology, mixed with time-tested old-fashioned methods. Knowing exactly where things were --even the smallest artifacts-- made it feasible to use the biggest earthmovers at one point, and the smallest brushes and sieves at another. A dig was not only completed months or even years faster, but it was vastly more thorough.

  Conversion of Archaeologists had been slow at first, but Hix's little business quickly blew up. His 10 teams were now all over the world with a backlog forty-five deep. New machines were being manufactured and self-supporting teams organized and outfitted as quickly as possible. Hix and his technologically-driven site management of the modern archaeological dig made his company sought out for almost every exploration in the world.

  “The project is on schedule then?” Hix asked.

  “Like a London train! I must admit, at first I was extremely doubtful of the timeline you created, but I’m happy to eat my humble pie. Here, take a look for yourself!”

  Penfield reached into the knapsack he had hung on his chair and pulled out a rugged laptop. Hix opened it up and began flipping through the aerial photographs, Penetrator Radar shots, data sets and video streams, all updating live from the site. Penfield shook his head. Even though he had managed the site for two months, he still marveled at how far his once dusty specialty had come.

  The Tzunmajini site had been discovered by aerial P.R. a few months ago and was the most promising find in the region. Early data revealed a large village surrounding a central building of some sort. Several weeks worth of dedicated work had revealed a very ancient city. Theories ranged from little known or short-lived civilizations to previously unknown cultures. Carbon dating, laser resonance, and other modern tech showed that these were either the oldest buildings in the world to date, or --as Hix secretly dreaded-- the equipment needed calibration.

  On the main overlook map, the laptop showed the computer-generated boundaries of the site and what was yet to be dug up. In the beginning, all of the buildings were simple renderings superimposed on a desolate plain. After two months, Hix looked upon an oblong circle cut fifty feet deep into the ground, peppered with buildings enjoying the sunlight for the first time in millennia.

  Like all the other times he looked at the data, Hix’s eyes were drawn to the hill in the middle of the village, towering over everything in the site. All of the modern technology had only been able to reveal a simple structure underneath all that dirt and sa
nd. Hix knew everything they had already discovered was a priceless find, but he was only truly interested in the contents of that hill. Fortunately, the very technology that allowed him to be curious made it possible for a speedy process to satiate that same curiosity.

  The TV began to show still-shots and video of the ants in a clear Plexiglas cube about the size of a small moving box. Headlines News ran a loop every couple minutes of the Opportunity II robot placing the ant box on the Martian soil, decoupling the air-filters, and backing away. They were scurrying and surviving despite being exposed to the atmosphere of Mars and seemed unaffected by the cold and strange air composition.

  "With this particular species," Penfield said, "they are all drones. When they begin to build their anthill or whatever, they will select a Queen and feed her certain hormones that change her body for reproduction."

  "How do they choose a Queen?"

  "Well, I guess it's whoever does the best in the swimsuit competition!"

  Hix almost spat out his beer as laughing over took him. "You're a funny guy, Pen."

  "Well, Hix, I'm disappointed. I timed that comment precisely and I feel stymied that you didn't spray your beer. Oh well, I'll try again later."

  “Why don’t the ants just crawl out by way of the roof? Through those, whaddya call ‘em, airholes?”

  “Life support kept them inside during the trip to Mars and they also put some polymer coating on the walls, I believe. Wouldn’t do to have ants all willy-nilly, now would it!” replied Penfield.

  The CNN talking heads were working themselves into a froth, it was time to release the new colonists of Mars. Opportunity II moved a robotic arm to the cube and pulled out a retaining pin. Slower than expected due to the different gravity field of Mars, the door fell open and almost immediately the ants poured out to spread across the red plain. Opportunity II rolled back quickly and zoomed in on individual ants as they began their new life in their new home.

  "You know, I'm glad they didn't use cockroaches," said Hix.

  "Yeah, that would have been really creepy." replied Penfield with a shudder.

  "You think they'll do well?"

  "They made it this far. If we don't watch ourselves, the red planet called Mars may become the black planet of the Ants."

  "They could reproduce to cover the planet? That's kind of farfetched."

  "Not really. They have no predators and nothing to hinder them. In fact, that's probably how we'll counter the ants. We'll introduce a predator to kill them off."

  "Once the ants are gone, what stops the predators?"

  "Well Hix, the predators will be taken care of when we show up to play."

  Hix looked at the laptop again. Work had stopped all over the site as the earthmovers carried away the last of the dirt that surrounded the center hill. It was time.

  “Well, Pen. You ready to take a walk?” Hix asked with a gleam in his eye.

  #

  After leaving the bar and hopping into their respective jeeps, it took only a bumpy ten minutes to reach the site. They had gotten into the crater created by the excavation team by way of slopes and cutbacks and walked down the ancient streets to the center of the site. Hix knew he should have been more excited about the empty doorways and windows they passed, but finally his expected moment was at hand.

  Everyone and their equipment were gathered in the center and though the sun was setting, it was still warm. Hix's hand-held version of the Penetrator Radar showed that this middle structure took up most of the interior of the hill.

  “What do you think it is?” Penfield asked Hix.

  “Temple? Maybe a palace? Could be like an old medieval castle. You know, large main structure for protection, but with a growing population that mainly lives and works outside the walls.”

  “That’s one idea,” Penfield said, “but you know what it is really going to turn out to be, don’t you?”

  “What?” asked Hix.

  “A Starbucks.” replied Penfield.

  "You’re a funny guy, Pen. Enough chit-chat! It’s go time.”

  Machines went to work scraping away large loads of dirt under the careful eyes of engineers with radar displays. When they got close to the walls the machines were moved back and spades and brushes were put to use. Soon they found a large structure with smooth walls on three sides. Machines were put to work again to clear out the inside, radar having previously shown that it was empty except for the dirt. During this process it was discovered that there was a fourth wall that had fallen and they cleared the dirt from on top of it as well.

  Hix walked up and wiped a swath of grime from the wall. He got excited and sent Penfield around to the other side to have him do the same. Startled, he stared a moment then spun around.

  "HOSES!" he called out.

  Giant fire hoses were rolled out and turned on the building. The high pressure of the water and the work of the entire crew soon cleaned the building. What stood before them was a giant cube with translucent walls. Although clear, the surfaces were scratched, pitted, corroded, and yellowed with age.

  "What material is this?" Hix muttered to himself.

  Confused, he circled the cube. He looked around at the crude buildings surrounding the center. It just didn’t add up.

  "Hix, come here," he heard Penfield call from inside the cube.

  "Pen, I'm starting to get a weird feeling here." Hix answered.

  "Hix come here and look up," Penfield said, strangely calm. "Look up at the airholes."

  ***

  Thanks for reading my story, I hoped you enjoyed it! It was my very first published piece, and it made me realize this writing thing could go somewhere.

  For more stories, or just the latest gossip, visit my website: https://www.tgapgeorge.com