jammer down the platform. They milled about in a tight clump, or stood motionless, gazing uncomfortably across the gap—wider than mere distance—between themselves and the settlement residents. Schuyle

jammer
down the platform. They milled
about in a tight clump, or stood
motionless, gazing uncomfortably
across the gap—wider than mere
distance—between themselves
and the settlement residents.
Schuyler spotted Bischofsky,
glum with his beard lowered
against his collar. “What’s this
place?” said Schuyler, walking up
to him. “Looks like hell.”
“You might be right about
that.” Bischofsky gazed around at
the silent figures. “Actually, it’s
Eureka Station— if there’s a differ-
ence. It’s another Church dig.
Look over there.” He pointed to
the crane beyond the circle of
huts.
From the platform’s angle a pit
was visible, with a broken spire
rising from stone ruins in the mid-
dle. A small bulldozer and other
pieces of equipment sat half-
buried in snow on an earthen
ramp curving down the side of the
hole. “One of the research teams
came across it six or seven years
ago. It’s not much to look at, but
it’s supposedly important. Histori-