Free Mine: The Arrival by Brett Battles Page B

breakthrough after years of frustration.
    “May I begin?” Kozakov asked.
    “You’re in charge on this,” Durant said. “Go whenever you feel ready.”
    Kozakov donned his safety goggles. “It may be best if everyone steps behind the safety panels.”
    There were three of the thick metal panels in the room. Each had a rectangular window of equally thick glass through which observers could look.
    As soon as everyone was repositioned, Kozakov turned on the audio recording machine used for all experiments on the craft. “This is Dr. Kozakov. The date is July third, 1943. The time, two fourteen p.m. I will now be attempting to drill into the detached Titan appendage. I will be using the newly received balabanite drill bit. I have selected a point along the broken section. My premise is that this will be the least resistant area. I’m turning the drill on now.”
    He flipped the switch. Because the balabanite was in its natural form, it looked lopsided as it began spinning, but quickly became a uniform blur by the time it reached full speed.
    “I will now touch the drill to the appendage.”
    Using levers that were part of the structure holding the drill, he extended the arm forward until the tip of the balabanite touched the rod.
    A loud screech filled the room. Kozakov’s eyes slammed shut as the sound seemed to almost touch his mind. He thought he heard others yelling but he wasn’t sure.
    Blindly he slapped out for the lever, trying to pull the drill back. When he finally moved it, the sound immediately stopped.
    He turned off the drill and looked back at the safety panels. The others were no longer visible through the windows.
    He said, “Test ended. Time, two fifteen p.m.” He hesitated, thinking he should document what had just happened, but he had no idea what to say. “Results to be determined.”
    Leaving the recorder on, he hurried to check on the others. Most were doubled over, and those who weren’t were sitting on the floor with their hands on their heads. Though they all appeared shaken, no one seemed seriously hurt by the noise.
    “What the hell was that?” Durant asked, still wincing.
    Kozakov shook his head. “I-I am not sure. I have never heard anything like it before.”
    “Did the drill at least work?”
    “I have not checked.”
    Rubbing his temples, the director said, “Well, then, do it, goddamn it!”
    Kozakov hurried back to the appendage. At first it looked as though the surface was undamaged. But when he looked at the point of contact through a magnifying glass, he spotted a mark. It was tiny, but it hadn’t been there before.
    He looked at the balabanite bit. What he saw both excited and troubled him. A flake of the craft was resting on the tip, meaning that for the first time, they’d been able to pry loose a little of the craft. The bad news was that the balabanite—the hardest substance on the planet—had cracked.
    Kozakov carefully teased the sliver of shiny metal into a container before showing it to the others. “The bit broke to get this much.”
    “Was that what made the noise?” one of the technicians asked.
    “I assume so.”
    “I don’t know about the rest of you, but it sure didn’t sound like something breaking to me,” Chambers said.
    “If you have a different theory, please share,” Durant said.
    Chambers thought for a moment but in the end shook his head.
    Durant motioned for Kozakov to give him the container, then took a look inside. “Is the sample enough to figure out what it is?”
    “Perhaps,” Kozakov said. “I would need access to an electron microscope, however.”
    “That can be arranged.” Durant looked at the others. “All right, everyone. We’re finished here, so back to what you were doing.” He nodded for Kozakov to follow him.
    Once they were in Durant’s office and the door was shut, the director said, “Is it worth trying the second bit?”
    “I think we should see what we can learn from the sample first.”
    Durant raised