Two minutes later, the elevator shuddered to a halt, andDr. Holzberg exited into a wide, empty passageway, abouttwenty eet across and two hundred eet long. The cracked,concrete foor was sparsely illuminated by overhead indus-trial lighting. A pair o rusty trolley rails ran down the mid-dle o the corridor—a remnant o the mining operationsthat had once taken place there decades earlier.Holzberg took a deep breath and savored the pungentsmell o sulur and stagnant water. Ater three long yearso working on this project, he actually elt more at homeunderground than in the charmless cinder-block ramblerthat the government had provided or him “up top,” inThurmond.He started o toward the laboratory at the end o thecorridor, his ootsteps echoing loudly throughout the vastspace. As he walked, the protocol or Experiment TNL-213streamed through his mind or the thousandth time.
Todayis the day
, he reminded himsel, allowing just the aintest o smiles. Today, God would heed
Just as God heeded Joshua’s command at Gibeon.
Holzberg passed through the laboratory’s heavy secu-rity door and entered a long, rectangular room resemblinga tunnel, with unpainted cement walls, ceiling, and foor.The middle o the room was dominated by a large pool o water, twenty by thirty eet across and thirty eet deep, witha steel catwalk extending across it. A sturdy steel railingcircumscribed the edge o the pool. Overhead, our longrows o incandescent bulbs illuminated the entire roomwith bright, white light. High up on the walls, thick, mul-ticolored bundles o wires and cables snaked like garlandsacross sturdy brackets, with smaller bundles droppingdown at uneven intervals to various lab equipment andworkstations around the room.Holzberg spotted our technicians in white lab coats
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