Vostok

by Steve Alten

  “Which is… ?”

  “Lake Vostok—the largest and deepest body of water on the continent.”

  I looked more closely at the satellite image. At one hundred and sixty miles long and fifty miles wide, Vostok was roughly the size of Lake Ontario, only its eleven-hundred-foot depths easily dwarfed those of the Great Lake. My eyes traced a river that appeared to run from Vostok’s northern border to the Amery Ice Shelf. “Dr. Ahmed, how far would these creatures’ remains have had to travel down this river to reach that rift?”

  He was ready with the answer. “We calculated the journey to be between eight and nine hundred miles, depending upon what section of Vostok they were in when they engaged in battle. The lake also possesses two islands, so they might have fought on land. We are bringing in a team of paleontologists to inspect the fossils for traces of soil.”

  Brandy inspected the satellite image. “Ye say this lake is buried beneath the snow?”

  Dr. Ahmed nodded. “Beneath an ice sheet thirteen thousand feet thick. The lake was sealed off approximately fifteen million years ago.”

  “But its waters are frozen… ”

  “No, Mrs. Wallace,” Liao replied. “Lake Vostok’s waters are actually quite liquid.”

  “That makes no sense. How can a lake remain unfrozen beneath, what… four thousand meters of ice?”

  Dr. Liao seemed slightly annoyed at Brandy’s distraction. “The water remains liquid because of two factors: the tremendous pressure generated by the weight of the ice sheet from above and the presence of geothermal vents pumping superheated waters into the bottom of the lake, which may actually be a tectonically active rift.”

  Dr. Ahmed pushed back from the table. “Dr. Wallace, Lake Vostok represents a precious, unspoiled time capsule into our past, a fossil-rich water reserve that may still harbor life. This recent discovery has accelerated everyone’s interest in both the government and private sector. The United States has joined China and Australia in a joint effort to develop the means to explore this lost world, while taking every measure to protect its microbial life from contaminants—something the Russians have not taken to heart. With a new budget in excess of a billion dollars, the conversation has changed from developing cleaner methods of deep ice-core drilling to actually sending drones into the lake itself.”

  “You didn’t recruit a deep-sea submersible pilot to operate a drone.” I glanced at the shaggy-haired American, who looked more like a graduate student than an engineer. “Mr. McFarland, why don’t you cut through Dr. Ahmed’s politics and tell us how Bill Stone and his team at Stone Aerospace intend on delivering a manned vessel into a lake buried under two-and-a-half miles of ice.”

  George McFarland grinned. “As I’m sure you know, Dr. Stone has been developing robotic explorers to access hard-to-reach exotic environments for years. Our focus of late has been the frozen ocean on Jupiter’s moon, Europa, which has an ice sheet twenty times as thick as Antarctica’s. Europa and Vostok present similar technical challenges. First and foremost, we need a far more efficient way to descend through miles of ice while maintaining the integrity of the borehole. The Russians have been pouring kerosene and Freon down their ice shaft, a move that has pissed off the entire international community. Vostok has remained preserved for fifteen million years; the last thing we want to do is introduce toxic chemicals into the habitat.

  “Then there’s the issue of hydrostatic pressure created by the sheer weight of the ice sheet sitting on top of these subglacial bodies of water. Vostok is essentially a massive topographic hollow filled with water that is being squeezed beneath trillions of tons of ice. Think of it as a giant water-filled balloon. Puncture Vostok and water explodes out the exit at five thousand pounds per square inch of pressure. The Russians learned this the hard way when they retracted their last ice core and water blasted up through the borehole, flooding their drill cab with a hundred cubic meters of kerosene.”

  McFarland powered on his laptop and turned the monitor to face Brandy and me. On screen was a six-foot-long cylindrical device. “This is Valkyrie, the cryobot we designed for Europa. The vehicle is an autonomous ice-penetrating machine. It is linked by fiber-optic cable to a power source that remains on the surface and is equipped with a high-powered laser that quickly melts the ice ahead of it. The hole then re-freezes behind the cryobot, preventing the pressure from forcing water out of the shaft. To return topside you simply invert the unit and blow ballast, and the capsule melts its way back to the surface, rising up on its own bubble with the hole re-freezing behind it.

  “The three-man submersible we’ve designed will be flanked by two Valkyrie lasers. Once the lake is reached, the sub will run autonomously. When it’s time to ascend, the Valkyries will burn a borehole through the ice, raising the sub on a geyser of water created by Lake Vostok’s own internal pressure. Cool, huh?”

  I shook my head in amazement. “It’s an incredible feat of engineering, but why a submersible? Why not simply let the Valkyrie unit do its job?”

  Dr. Liao appeared irritated by the question. “Why put an astronaut in orbit when a chimpanzee will do? Why put a man on the moon? Lake Vostok is the equivalent of journeying to another world. A robot can collect a few fossils, but it cannot experience the wonderment of exploring an ice sheet from below, nor observe Vostok’s underworld through a scientist’s eyes. Are there dangers? Of course. But we’ve minimized the risks, and I dare say exploring a subglacial lake is far less taxing than rocketing into space. There are no less than a dozen scientific organizations participating in this venture, with volunteers vying to be among the chosen few to visit this lost world.”

  “If that’s the case, why choose me?”

  “You have been blessed with the unique ability to see what others have seen and think what nobody has thought. While we’ll have teams of paleobiologists at the camp, none have your field experience or reputation. Who better to resolve what will no doubt be a Rubick’s Cube of fossils and processes—”

  “And perhaps a life-form or two,” interjected Dr. Ahmed. “It is my belief that your team will come across bacteria and biologicals that have survived in that isolated environment for millions of years. As Captain Hintzmann mentioned, your participation also helps us procure the necessary funds to expedite this mission—funds from which you shall be well compensated.”

  Dr. Liao handed me an envelope. Inside was an offer for a research stipend covering September through February of the coming year. I passed the sheet of paper to Brandy, whose eyes widened at the mid-six-figure salary. “Who do ye have tae murder, then? The Queen, I hope.”

  “I’d be gone six months. The way things have been lately, maybe that’s a good thing… .”

  Brandy’s eyes teared up. “Go, then. I ken ye want tae. It’s in yer blood as sure as the plaid’s in mine.” She straightened in her seat. “Besides, we need the money.”

  For months we had poisoned our arguments with the threat of divorce. Threats are threats until they force you to make a decision. At that moment we both sensed that this was it—we’d either commit to staying together or officially end our marriage with my acceptance of Dr. Soto’s lucrative offer.

  Put to the test, neither of us wanted to be without the other.

  “Here’s another alternative, Brandy. I was just offered a teaching position at Cambridge University. It’s not nearly as much money, but at least I’d see you and William on weekends.”

  She reached for my hand beneath the table. “Or we could stay wit’ ye during the week and see my father on weekends. True could handle things while I’m away.”

  It was as if a vise had been removed from my heart. I squeezed my wife’s hand, suddenly anxious to end the meeting. “Dr. Liao, gentlemen, while I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

  3

  Brandy had felt certain I would abandon my family, accept Dr. Liao’s offer, and end up in her arms. In turning the offer down, I had placed the needs of my loved ones ahead of my own.
Or as my wife put it, “I had changed the energy in our marriage from negative back to positive.” In turn, Brandy could now leave Drumnadrochit in good conscience to join me in Cambridge.

  Maybe she was right. Having rendered my decision I felt uplifted, as if my life had meaning again.

  Dr. Ahmed looked shocked. “Perhaps you need a few days to think this through?”

  I assured him my mind was made up, sending Dr. Liao into a ten-minute diatribe about my obligation to the scientific community and how this expedition could affect everything from our knowledge of how life began to climate change and its threat to the planet. When I still refused her call to duty, she argued that some major investors had threatened to withdraw their support if I passed on the mission and that if it was simply a matter of money, perhaps she could manage to up the offer another ten to fifteen percent. When I assured her my objection had nothing to do with money, she interpreted my response as one of fear. Challenging my manhood, she again assured me that there’d be no risk, certainly nothing on par with what had happened to me two years ago at the bottom of Loch Ness.

  “Trust me, Dr. Wallace, I wouldn’t be making the descent if I had any doubts as to our safety. As for water creatures, I sincerely doubt we’ll find anything larger than a salmon. There is no food supply.”

  She was baiting me to oppose her statement, which dismissed an entire chemosynthetic food chain. The bizarre thing was Brandy’s reaction; the more I held my ground against Liao, the more turned on she became. At one point she interrupted the conversation to remind me that Willy’s nanny was due to leave soon and that we really needed to get back to our room.

  And then she winked!

  That was all the prompting I needed.

  Ending the meeting, I shook my guests’ hands and said goodbye—unaware that Liao had one final card to play.

  “It’s late, Zachary. Rather than drive back to Inverness for our return flights in the morning, may we stay in the resort for the night? I’m sure there are vacancies.”

  Perhaps it was Ming’s addressing me informally; perhaps it was the implications of her wanting to sleep under the same roof. But the Asian beauty’s request clearly set Brandy off, her mood swing threatening my anticipated bout of make-up sex.

  I scrambled to neutralize the brewing storm. “I think the north wing has a few rooms open, but we’re not serving food. Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the village?”

  “And miss out on this view? No, we’ll stay here. Besides, I’m sure Ben would love to speak with you about his undersea work. You two have so much in common. Ben?”

  Ben finished the last of his drink. “Maybe later. Right now I think Dr. Wallace would rather be with his wife.”

  Like I said, a kindred soul.

  “Go downstairs to the check-in desk. True will meet you there.”

  My brother-in-law and best friend, Finlay “True” MacDonald, was a gentle giant, carrying two hundred and sixty pounds on his six-foot-five-inch frame. He kept his beard short and his auburn hair long and in a ponytail. You could kid him about it unless he was drunk, which he was a lot these days. My father had hired the big fella as his hotel manager, but the lack of business had added handyman, electrician, plumber, lord of the laundry, and groundskeeper to his job description. True didn’t mind, he lived rent-free and always had a clean room in which to bed his women, most of whom he met “interviewing” for summer housekeeping jobs.

  Entering the lobby, he greeted Liao like a hungry tiger. “So, Zachary tells me ye’ll be spending the night. Don’t get many visitors this time o’ year, and none that look as good as you. The name’s Finlay, but my friends call me True. How many rooms then, Miss… ?”

  “Liao. Four rooms, non-smoking. I assume you accept credit cards?”

  “Aye, but ye’ll be needing tae eat, and most of the places in the village only take cash. It’s a fair walk intae town, but I can drive ye.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “My pleasure. Fiddler’s serves the best haggis and tatties this side o’ the Ness. Your friends can drink in the café while you and me sit in the backroom and get tae ken one another.”

  Liao ignored True’s attempt at romance. “Fiddler’s sounds fine. Make the reservations for four. Oh, and could you arrange for Angus Wallace to meet us there?”

  “Angus? Whit do ye want with that old buzzard?”

  “Please tell him I have a business proposition to discuss.”

  Fiddler’s was located on the other side of the A82 highway across the road from the Oakdale Bed and Breakfast. The two-story white stucco structure housed a pub and restaurant downstairs along with a café extension that was strictly for drinking. The rooms upstairs were for rent. During tourist season the restaurant was always crowded, with seating overflowing outside onto the patio. The frigid March weather kept its local patrons indoors, most stopping by to partake of a Fiddler’s homemade malt whisky chosen from over five hundred selections.

  My father was seated alone at a table in the back room behind the bar, feasting on venison steak and black pudding with a bottle of cider. Angus Wallace’s mane of silver-gray hair was tucked under a green Nessie’s Lair golf cap, and his matching beard and mustache sported remnants from his meal. His piercing gray-blue eyes glanced up as Liao entered the hideaway. “Dr. Liao, I presume? My-my, aren’t ye a dazzling Chinese dish. Enough tae set my daughter-in-law off, I’ll wager.”

  “May I sit?”

  “Sit, piss, shyte, do whitever ye want. Ye came a long way tae get rejected. Antarctica, huh? Imagin’ it gets quite Baltic in that ice box.”

  “Baltic? Ah, you mean cold. Yes, very cold. But how did you—”

  “Lass, I’ve connections all aboot the Great Glen, including immigration, and I like tae ken who’s stayin’ under my roof. Three eggheads an’ a sub pilot, all here tae recruit my Zachary. All that way ye traveled and the lad turned ye down.”

  “He would have signed on if—”

  “Brandy? Ye think so, do ye? Ye ken nothing aboot my son.”

  “We offered him the chance of a lifetime, and he passed it up for a faculty position at Cambridge.”

  “What was yer offer?”

  “I’m afraid that’s confidential, but it amounts to quite a figure for the summer season.”

  “Summer in Antarctica… is that anything like winter in Hell?”

  “It’s cold, but we will assemble an environmental dome to protect our team from the elements.”

  “Aye. And ye’ll be accompanying him on this chance-of-a-lifetime mission?”

  “Correct. My role is to analyze the geology of Lake Vostok. As for the mission itself, the risk is minimal. I think he’s more afraid of upsetting his wife.”

  “Lass, yer bum’s hangin’ way oot the windae. Yer talkin’ rubbish. This ain’t aboot money or pleasin’ his auld lady. It’s aboot fear. Ye think yer the only one who’s come calling on my son since his latest resurrection? The lad’s passed on every underwater expedition offered, and better paying ones than yers. Ye forget, Zachary near died aboard one of them submersibles three years back. If it means going underwater, the answer is always no.”

  “What if he didn’t have to make the dive? Right now, I just need him on the expedition to secure a few private investors.”

  “And so ye’ve come tae me for help because ye heard the lad listens tae his auld man like I was Jesus climbed down from the cross.”

  “Well, no. But if that is true—”

  “Lassy, butts are fer crappin’. Ye came here tae bribe me, so start yer bribing.”

  She reached into her bag and removed an envelope. “This is a letter of commitment. When your son signs it and arrives at our new station in East Antarctica you will receive a sum equaling five thousand U.S. dollars.”

  Angus snorted a laugh. “Lass, who do ye think yer dealing wit’? A Highland pig farmer? The plane fare to Antarctica for you and the other eggheads alone costs more than five thou. No, ye’ll pay me that su
m tonight jist for acceptin’ the job. Then you’ll pay me another fifty thousand when he signs. That fee will be wired intae my bank account before Zachary leaves Inverness.”

  “Out of the question. I can go as high as ten, provided the contract is signed within the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Tells ye whit, I’ll accept five tonight and twenty when the signed contract is faxed. Go on and discuss it at the bar with yer friends, but be quick; there’s been another kill and I’m needed—ach, there I go, blabbin’ again like a schoolgirl. Dinnae listen tae me, lass, it’s those three haufs of whiskey talkin’.”

  “Has there been… a murder?”

  “Shh!” Angus grabbed her by the arm while his eyes took inventory of the room. “Can I trust ye with a secret, lassy?”

  “Of course.”

  He leaned in close enough for Liao to catch the scent of booze on his breath. “We have another creature loose in Loch Ness—a big one. Killed three deer in the past two weeks. Last night an elk. She dinnae come ashore like her mama; she’s water-bound. Feeds on ’em as they cross the loch at night, and we collect the remains in the morning.”

  Liao’s eyes lit up as she swallowed the bait. “You said like her mother? Are you saying the Loch Ness Monster gave birth to an offspring before your son—”

  “Aye, but let’s be clear; it’s not the same species. Nessie must’ve bred with somethin’ else. Dinnae ask me whit.”

  “But how do you know this?”

  “Bite radius on the dead deer, an occasional sighting… Plus there’s the tooth.”

  “You found a tooth?”

  “Not me. Back in February a coupla’ college students from the States were taking photos by boat along a stretch known tae us locals as the Kill Zone. They saw the half-eaten remains of a deer and went ashore. One of the American lads spotted something protruding from the dead deer’s rib cage. Bloody thing turned oot tae be a tooth—four inches long and barbed. Fortunately, the water bailiff took it from them, or we’d have been invaded by scientists and Nessie hunters. I thought word had leaked when yer team showed up unannounced.”