Airlock!
It was definitely supposed to be a gate. Whoever had put it up had taken doors from the shipping containers up on the surface, including the frames, then mounted them into the rock. There was even a doorsill. The problem was that it was an airlock. Improvised and jury-rigged, but definitely an airlock. That had implications.
Not to mention hindrances. Tobias examined the walls on either side. “I don’t see any communication jacks,” he announced. “No jacks, ports, or plug-ins. Anybody else?”
“No.” Reithner sounded bothered by that, too. If anything, she sounded even more upset than Tobias. “Not even an emergency transmitter. This is a highly unsafe installation.”
“Or they don’t have anybody they want to talk to,” Buckley pointed out. “How far inside do you think we can get with the door closed behind us before we lose signal?”
“Right away.” Tobias had extended his suit’s sensor cable, and was now waving it around. “There’s no EM radiation coming through ahead of us. Once we’re inside, we’re cut off from our bases until we can find a transmitter that’s set up for surface communications.”
“Not gonna lie, sir: that sounds like a great reason to not go inside.” Buckley had gotten more and more darkly sardonic over the last few months, but right now there was no humor in his voice. “They don’t want to talk and they probably don’t want guests. Let’s take the hint.”