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There’s nothing on earth that crews from the Alberta foothills can’t handle. They work rigs, punch cows, and cut lumber in some of the worst weather on the planet with a grim determination that defies the elements and the danger of the work itself, hell, sometimes they do it with a smile on their face. The unknown, however, has long set folks on edge; and how much does anyone know of what lies in the dirt, miles beneath their feet?
Millenia of strata, barely scratched, rarely probed, less understood than the floor of the deepest ocean trench.
If something there can be awakened after ninety million years of stasis, is it something that should be roused at all? What if it travelled a couple thousand light years to get here in the first place, an autonomous node of a larger synthetic consciousness? What happens when Rig 47 comes knocking with 80,000 pounds of drill stem and diamond bit on an unknowable hypogean relic?
There’s nothing on earth that crews from the Alberta foothills can’t handle. They work rigs, punch cows, and cut lumber in some of the worst weather on the planet with a grim determination that defies the elements and the danger of the work itself, hell, sometimes they do it with a smile on their face. The unknown, however, has long set folks on edge; and how much does anyone know of what lies in the dirt, miles beneath their feet?
Millenia of strata, barely scratched, rarely probed, less understood than the floor of the deepest ocean trench.
If something there can be awakened after ninety million years of stasis, is it something that should be roused at all? What if it travelled a couple thousand light years to get here in the first place, an autonomous node of a larger synthetic consciousness? What happens when Rig 47 comes knocking with 80,000 pounds of drill stem and diamond bit on an unknowable hypogean relic?
