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Leonard was still arguing with
Wisnewski
. "There must be a way to get in without destroying the ship."

"Time, Leonard ... we haven't the luxury ... And what of those poor devils with the curse of this thing feeding on them? Are they any less important than the find itself? We must be practical, for--"

"In the face of
this,
" Leonard said, waving his arm, "you talk of being practical?"

"Stroud, you tell this fool! Tell him what will happen if we don't take the initiative. You've dealt with men like Gordon before, haven't you?"

"Most recently in Egypt, yes."

"Then tell him I'm right. We must go through here now."

"Within the constraints of time we have, that is very sound reasoning, Doctor," said Stroud.

"Agreed, then, Leonard?"

"Yes, we go through here."

"Once on the inside, every precaution must be taken," said Wiz when Stroud said, "
Shhh
! Did you hear that?"

The other two men stared in his direction.

"Thought I heard something."

Wisnewski
immediately asked the people upstairs if they had detected anything on the sensitive monitoring equipment they were using. A voice came back saying, "Yes, a slight vibration. It may be unsafe for you men to be--"

But they were cut off by a tremendous groan that welled up from the earth like a gas pocket trying to blow. It shook the casing wall and the floor on which they stood and it caused the big ship to
irk
and
irk
with the sound of a wounded animal until suddenly it stopped as quickly as it had begun. Stroud felt its
soniclike
vibrations continue inside his head.

"In God's name," said Leonard.

"What was that?" asked Wiz.
"Earth tremor?"

Stroud thought he saw something out of the side of his eye, but then it was gone. He feared saying anything about it, and he feared not. "Something just ran along the shadows there," he finally said.

"What?
An animal?"

"A rat?
I hate rats," said Leonard.

"Not sure ... seemed large for a rat."

"Shall we investigate?"

"Negative," said someone from above. "Tape from Stroud's camera confirms a rat."

"I think I smell a rat," added Leonard.

"We're in need of a few picks," Wiz told the men topside. "Please dress someone properly, send the picks down."

"Are you sure we should proceed if the earth is unstable beneath our feet, Wiz?" asked Stroud.

"Sometimes it takes an act of faith, doesn't it, old boy?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Time is not on our side, Dr. Stroud."

"Then we go inside."

"Who would have ever guessed it?" said Stroud. "A ship beneath Manhattan, buried here so very long ago."

"Oh, then you haven't seen our tract on the
Tyger
and other such finds?" asked Leonard.

"No ... no, I'm afraid I did not see it."

"It took many years of painstaking work," he replied, using his nose to try to push his glasses up. This attempt, beneath the face mask that he wore, gave him a comical appearance.

Wisnewski
and Leonard were well known for having worked on any number of ships discovered, several out at sea, some abroad. They knew how to bring up the wood, keep it protected. Such work took years upon years, for the wood had to remain in electrically charged fresh water and all the porous interior holes bored by worms and time shot full with a hardening agent, even before reassembly could begin.

"What are you saying, Dr. Leonard? What's this
Tyger
you speak of?"

"Tell him, Wiz."

"It's not the first ship to be discovered under Manhattan," said Wiz to Stroud. "Not by a long shot."

"There have been others?" Stroud was astounded by this information. They stood just inside the cavernous opening at the bow of the ship, awaiting the materials they'd requested.

"Oh, nothing quite as elaborate as this, of course, but some old ships, yes, dating back to the early 1600s even."

"I see."

"Nothing on this scale, however," emphasized Dr. Leonard, still aghast just looking at the exposed bow.

"Galley ships were discovered by workmen building the
Cortlandt
Street station on the
Interborough
Rapid Transit line near the southern tip of the island."

"It was a Dutch ship, the
Tyger
" Leonard said.
"Entirely different construction."

"Records showed that the
Tyger
burned and sank along the Hudson River coast in 1613."

"Our site here is more like the Dollar
Drydock
Savings Bank construction," added Leonard. "They'd proposed construction of an office tower at the corner of Broad and Pearl streets--"

"Across from the restored
Fraunces
Tavern--"

"Where Washington bid farewell to his officers in 1783," Stroud interrupted with a smile behind his protective mask. "I know the area.
Site of the city's first two city halls."

"Dutch
Stadt
Huys
," said Wiz.

"1642 to 1697," Leonard fished the dates from his memory.

"And the English Lovelace Tavern, which was pressed into service as the administrative offices between 1670 and 1706," Wiz said, gaining on Leonard.

"At any rate, early Dutch construction techniques involved the use of old ships to create landfill, to extend the land base of the island as they did in Holland. Many of the recent finds have been of ships intentionally sunk to create walls for the landfill."

"Scuttled is the word for it," said Wiz. "A spectacular merchant vessel was unearthed at 175 Water Street in '82. It was carbon-dated to 1745."

"The bow is on exhibit at the Maritime Museum at Newport News, Virginia--"

"But her stern and a portion of the starboard remain buried under Front Street," continued Wiz, "between the intersections of Fletcher and John streets."

"You gentlemen were involved in the excavation?"

"Indeed, we were."

"Analysis of the wood showed that the ship was built from timbers from the Chesapeake Bay area by shipwrights here in the English tradition," said Leonard, a pride exuding through his space suit.

"It was pockmarked by bore worms," added Wiz, "indicating that it had sailed the waters of the West Indies for a considerable time."

"But how did you keep the construction halted long enough to--"

"Fortunately, and only recently, work in the Lower Manhattan area has been conducted under the terms of the 1977 City Environmental Quality Review Act, which we have to keep invoking to poke and prod people with."

"The act requires developers like Gordon to conduct archeological and related environmental studies prior to being issued construction and occupancy permits for their sites," explained Leonard.

"Only problem is Gordon did a half-assed job of it, using amateurs, paying off politicians."

"Where are those damned picks?" Stroud wondered aloud.

"One thing's certain, this here ship is twice, perhaps three times the size of the
Tyger
" Wiz said, going to the bow and caressing it with a light touch that still caused a layer of the rotting timbers to come away with his gloved hand.

"Careful,
Wisnewski
!"
Leonard scolded his colleague and friend, but Wiz seemed now lost in thought, an eerie, mad look flitting across his face which vanished with the noise of someone's approach, rattling the requested tools.

Along with two picks and shovels were a few sticks of dynamite, which Wiz promptly, and in no uncertain terms, refused and sent back. "We're not here to destroy either ourselves or the integrity of this grand ship," he told the men aboveground while Stroud went to work with a pickax. The claw dug into the spongy, ancient wood like a battering ram against cardboard, and soon the three men were using their gloved hands, setting aside the assault weapons the axes had become. A man-sized hole was necessary and the black maw gaping back at them from the interior of the ship grew larger and larger, looking as if it welcomed swallowing them whole. They had to be certain no splintering pieces could catch on their suits and cause tears. The greatest fear at this point was being contaminated with whatever had plagued the old man named
Weitzel
, the guard and the two policemen, all of whom were in a state of unconsciousness, languishing in hospital beds.

On their return there would be an irradiation shower to destroy any bacterium or spore that might cling to their bodies. The portable decontamination unit was in position now just below street level.

The three of them stared at the empty well of darkness before them.
The hull of the ship, the very bottom, the hold.
Stroud wondered if it still contained any of its original cargo, whatever that might be. He wondered if they would find treasures and jewels, but he'd settle for Etruscan pottery, amphorae, tools, artifacts of this sort. Leonard flashed a light into the interior from which emanated a stench so powerful it threatened to send them back. The light
strobed
over bundles and boxes and barrels ostensibly filled with rotted matter, rotten flax and other grains, rotten fish in salted kegs and something akin to the smoldering odor of rotting flesh that Stroud had come to know during his tour of duty in Vietnam.

"What the hell is that?" asked Leonard, whose eyes darted behind him. "That's no goddamned rat."

"What? What did you see?"

"Same thing Stroud saw, I think ... but it wasn't any rat like I've ever seen.
Looked like it had more than four legs."

Stroud went toward the area that Leonard pointed to, but he saw nothing; not until his light brought into focus the footprints, or more appropriately, the claw prints of a rather large centipede. "Look at this, Dr.
Wisnewski
."

Wisnewski
did so.

"What do you suppose could make such a track?"

"Nothing in my experience."

"Leonard? Leonard? Where is he?"

They looked around to find Leonard gone. He had entered the hull alone.
Wisnewski
hurried through, catching Leonard's silhouette ahead of him in his light while Stroud grabbed the only pickax left. Leonard had taken the other one.

Stroud rushed
through,
catching up to
Wisnewski
at the moment his light picked up the fact that Leonard was tearing away at the wall in front of him. It gave way easily and then Leonard's ax came back over his shoulder with a large bone stuck to it moments before the wall caved in
in
front of the doctor, burying him in human bones, sending up a scream from him.

Stroud and Wiz rushed to his aid, trying to tug him free from the avalanche of bones.

"God damn it!"

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