by Smitty
The crowd gathered by the mountain lake.
The moons were lining up. The tidal force steadily lowered the water to reveal The Ship.
The hint of the hull began to peek out.
It had been centuries since moons and season provided the correct angle.
Waters receded. The hull emerged, covered in plant growth.
Silence gripped the onlookers.
A mild rumbling, a sound of metal creaking along with soggy plantlife squishing about, as a large door opened on the landward side of the hull.
A dozen suited figures stepped out.
“Whoever touched the cryongenics controls is in Big Trouble,” said Braxton.
—
via Darleen