by Alton Gansky
“Where’s your brother?” Larimore asked Gwen.
“He got bored and went to his room. There’s little to do here but wait for the outside world to find us.” She paused. “I think he’s planning on leaving with the next plane, which he assumes will be here soon—once someone realizes that the C-5 didn’t arrive.”
“I see,” Perry said. “What about you? Will you be going with him?”
“No,” she said quickly enough to surprise him. “I don’t approve of what you’re doing, but you have my interest. If you’re going to breach the ice sheet anyway, I might as well be the scientist who sees it first.”
Perry smiled. “Curiosity wins out again.”
“A scientist without curiosity is like a car without wheels,” Gwen said.
“For once, I think your brother had a good idea,” Larimore said. “I’m useless here. I think I’ll hit the rack for awhile. What are you going to do, Perry?”
“I’m going to try and split them up,” he answered, nodding at Gleason and Sarah, their eyes glued to the monitors. “They need to take shifts. Staying up for forty-eight hours won’t do them or the project any good.”
“Good luck,” Larimore said and headed for the air lock.
Once Larimore was out of the Chamber, Gwen turned to Perry. “Do you think it’s wise to leave him alone?”
“Commander Larimore?” Perry asked.
“Yes. He’s the most likely suspect for putting the bomb on board that plane.”
“Perhaps,” Perry said. “But then again, you could have done it, or your brother, or Sarah.”
“Or you,” she snapped.
“From your point of view, you’re correct.” Perry thought for a moment. “I can’t keep an eye on everyone at all times and neither can you. There’s only one person who knows if the bomber is among us, and I doubt that person will volunteer the information.”
“So we just give up? We just surrender to the situation?”
“We remain vigilant. The only other option is to lock everyone in their rooms, and that would be useless. The doors don’t even have locks.”
“I’ll confess to being . . . uncomfortable,” Gwen said. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep again until I’m in my own bed with all the doors locked and bolted.”
“Understandable,” Perry said. What Gwen didn’t know, and what Perry didn’t feel compelled to tell, was that he had already had a conversation with Jack, Gleason, and Dr. Curtis—the three men Perry trusted completely. Together they would keep an eye on the other team members. After Griffin had left the Chamber, Jack and Dr. Curtis followed. Perry had not gone with them but knew they were “chatting and snacking” in the commons area, but they were also tracking the movement of the others into the Dome. Perry and Gleason covered the Chamber. It would be a tag-team effort, but two of his team would be awake at all times and able to account for the whereabouts and activities of the others.
Their work had just doubled.
The dials Sarah watched were virtual. There were no metal hands pointing at letters painted on a disk, just light green lines “drawn” on the computer monitors. There were two monitors. The one to her right displayed the onboard camera’s view; at the moment, it showed only milk white and occasional bubbles. The one on her left displayed six gauges. To her right sat the joystick controls she had been practicing with over the last few days. At the moment the joystick was as useless as a paperweight. Hairy was following its program of melting its way through the ice. Gravity provided the propulsion, and since it was moving in a shaft just a hair larger than itself, there was no room to turn.
Sarah shifted in the uncomfortable seat.
“We should have brought a padded chair,” Gleason said.
“A nice rocking chair would be good,” Sarah said, then smiled at the image of a wooden rocking chair resting on the ice.
“This is one slow video game,” Gleason said.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of the men who wastes hour upon hour with a game controller in your hand.”
“It builds character,” Gleason said. “Besides, I have kids, and Perry is always buying them some new game. Someone has to teach them how to play.”
“You’re close to Perry, aren’t you?” Sarah asked. She noticed a tingling in the back of her brain, and her stomach dropped.
“Yeah, we go way back. He’s good to me and mine.”
Sarah turned her attention to the gauges. The tingling in her brain was moving forward as if crawling along the inside of her skull. Not now, she said to herself. “How . . . how many children do you have?”
“Two. A twelve-year-old boy and a girl who’s eleven.”
“A girl,” Sarah said. Her vision blurred, and she felt her eyes begin to roll back. “You’ll . . . you’ll have boys coming by . . . soon.”
“I plan on buying a big ugly dog to sit on the front doorstep,” Gleason said. “If they get past the dog, then they’ll have to get past me.”
“You sound like my father. He said I couldn’t . . . date . . . until I was . . . thirty . . .” The gauges disappeared. The monitors melted away. The world ceased to exist.
“Smart man. Was your father an engineer, too?”
She could hear his voice, but her mouth would no longer work.
“I asked if your father was an engineer, too.”
The darkness deepened from gray to purple-black.
“Sarah? Are you all right?”
The Nothing had swallowed her.
“Perry!”
Perry snapped his head from Gwen to Gleason.
“Perry, I need you!” Gleason was kneeling beside Sarah, who had been seated a moment ago.
Perry closed the distance between them quickly and dropped to his knees. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Gleason said. “We were talking, and she slumped over. I caught her before she hit the ice.”
“Did you notice anything strange before she fell?” Gwen asked. Perry was glad she had followed him.
“Not really,” Gleason said. “She was asking about my family, and then her speech became slurred and halting. Next thing I knew, she was keeling over.”
“Let me in,” Gwen ordered, and Gleason stepped aside.
Perry watched as Gwen laid a gloved hand on the fallen woman’s neck. She shook her head.
“What?” Perry demanded. “No pulse?”
“I can’t tell. These gloves are in the way.” Gwen stripped off her clean-suit gloves then the thinner pair she wore beneath. Again she pressed her fingers to Sarah’s throat and nodded. “Pulse is strong and regular.” Her eyes drifted to Sarah’s chest and lingered. “Breathing is even.” She bent over and placed her face shield close to Sarah’s. “She’s moving her lips, but I can’t hear anything.”
“We should get her into the Dome,” Perry said.
“Agreed.”
“Take her feet, Gleason.”
Before Perry could slip his arms under Sarah’s, he saw her eyes snap open. She blinked a few times then sat up.
“Are you okay?” Gleason asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She started to get up.
“Take it easy,” Perry said. “You passed out.”
“Nonsense,” Sarah said. “I’m fine. I must have fallen asleep.”
“It looked like more than sleep,” Gleason said. “You fell off the chair.”
“I’ve been pretty tired. I think the thin air is getting to me.”
Perry looked at Gwen and could tell she wasn’t buying the story. Sarah shrugged off Perry’s grasp and stood up. “See, I’m fine. I just let myself slip off. I’ve always been able to go into a deep sleep.” She sat down at the table again as if nothing had happened. “Did I miss anything?”
“I don’t know,” Gleason admitted. “I was preoccupied with you.”
“I want you to take a break,” Perry said. “And I want you to let Gwen have a look at you.”
“No need. I’m fine.”
“I insis
t,” Perry said. “In fact, I’m pulling rank. I was coming over here to suggest that you two split shifts anyway. Now is as good a time as any to start.”
“But I need to monitor—”
“Gleason will keep an eye on Hairy and will let you know if there are any problems or changes. Now go.” Perry looked at Gwen, who nodded. “If Gwen gives you the okay, you can come back after a few hours’ sleep. Got it?”
“There’s really no need . . .”
“Got it?”
“Yes, sir!” Sarah jumped to her feet and snapped a salute. Perry saw the anger on her face. She marched off, and Gwen had to step fast to keep up.
Chapter 15
“Because it’s none of his business,” Sarah snapped after she and Gwen had reached her small room. “And quite honestly, it’s none of yours.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong, and you know it,” Gwen replied in the same tone. “I don’t know where you think you are, but death is just outside those walls. We’re not in a comfy apartment with a hospital around the corner should we need it. We’re in the middle of no-man’s-land—no-woman’s-land, if you prefer. What happens to one of us happens to all of us.”
“You’re overstating the issue,” Sarah said.
“Oh, really? And you’ve spent how much time on the ice? My time on the continent adds up to two years. Yours? Two weeks. And do I need to remind you that we have no communications with the outside?”
“No, you don’t need to remind me.” Sarah moved to her bed and plopped down.
“Good, now let’s start from the beginning. What just happened?”
“I told you. I fell asleep.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth,” Sarah said, her voice softening. “In a manner of speaking.” She was being evasive, and she didn’t know how to stop herself. She had been making excuses for herself since she was a child.
“What do you mean, ‘in a manner of speaking’?” Gwen’s face darkened in thought. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me you have narcolepsy?”
“More like it has me.” There, it was out, and there was no taking it back.
“Ah,” Gwen said. She pulled the room’s lone chair from under the tiny desk and sat down. “That does shed some light on things.”
“I’ve had it since I was a teenager.” Sarah felt a tear brim the edge of her eye. Confessing weakness was not something she did well. “Medication has kept it in check, but stress sometime sets it off.”
“Stress? You mean like living in the world’s coldest place, knowing that a plane full of people went down ten minutes after you waved good-bye? Something as simple as that?”
Sarah chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sensitive that way.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not all that rare really. One in two thousand people are affected. Many are undiagnosed. It’s what kept me out of the astronaut corps.”
“I can’t believe Perry would let you come out here with a condition like that.”
“He doesn’t know. I’ve worked hard at keeping it under wraps. This project needs me, and I need it. I couldn’t let the opportunity slip by. In one way, I’m lucky. I know I have it. The average span between onset and proper diagnosis is fourteen years.”
“Fourteen years? You can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious about most things. I’m especially serious about my disease.”
“I’m afraid this is a little beyond my paramedic training,” Gwen confessed.
“There’s nothing you can do, or should do. Mine is a moderate case. I can drop off at anytime, but my meds keep things in check. I haven’t had an episode like what you saw in months.”
“Any other triggers besides stress?” Gwen wondered.
“Not for me. Some people go under when they feel strong emotions, such as surprise or amusement.”
“And the symptoms?”
“They range from extreme daytime drowsiness to sleep paralysis.”
Gwen shook her head.
“Sleep paralysis,” Sarah explained, “is an abnormal episode of REM sleep atonia. The victim can’t move for a few moments and may suffer hypnagogic hallucinations. You know those people who claim aliens visit them while they’re asleep in their beds?”
Gwen nodded.
“There’s a good chance that what they’re experiencing is sleep paralysis with hallucinations.”
“Do you hallucinate when you have an episode?”
“No. I just slip under for a few minutes.”
“What should I do if it happens again?”
“Nothing. It probably won’t happen again, but if it does, just leave me alone. It never lasts more than five minutes.”
“What about your medication?”
“I take Protriptyline. It’s an anticataplectic compound.”
“Any side effects I should know about?”
Sarah was tired of talking about it. She just wanted to be alone. “Nothing serious: dry mouth, constipation, sometimes blurred vision if the dosage is too high.”
“You know,” Gwen said, leaning forward, “I’ll have to tell Perry all this. He is the team leader, and he has a right to know.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Sarah said. She was feeling sick.
Gwen smiled. “Well, here’s the good news: You’re already here, and there’s no immediate way home. I doubt he’ll tie you to the bed.”
“He can and will send me home as soon as a plane arrives.”
“Maybe,” Gwen said. “Let me talk to him. In the meantime, it’s my turn to issue orders. I want you to rest for awhile, and you are never to go outside alone. Your episodes may only last five minutes, but that could be a death sentence out there. Agreed?”
Sarah nodded. “Agreed.”
“What’s going on?” Griffin said, pulling Gwen into the galley.
“You’re hurting my arm,” she said and jerked free. “Lighten up.”
“I’m sorry . . . I noticed that you were in Sarah’s room.”
“So?”
“With the door closed.”
Gwen felt defensive. “You were listening at the door. Snooping is beneath you.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping.” Griffin frowned. “What do you take me for? If I had my ear pressed to the door I wouldn’t be asking you questions now. Something happened, and I think I have a right to know about it.”
“There was a small incident in the Chamber,” Gwen said lightly. “There’s nothing to get worked up over.”
“Why don’t you let me decide that? Something happened to the cryobot? It broke?”
“No,” Gwen said, marveling at her brother’s hopeful questions. “Hairy was on target and on pace when I left. Sarah just had a little spell.”
“Define spell.”
Gwen wondered if she should continue. She was at odds with herself. One portion of her mind wanted to keep Sarah’s secret private; another part acknowledged the need to be open and honest in their hostile environment. As it was, she was on her way to talk to Perry about the matter when her brother sidetracked her.
“Don’t switch sides on me now, Gwen. You’re not a doctor; there is no doctor-patient confidentiality here. You’re under no obligation to keep secrets.”
“You’ve always been a real pain, Griffin, and now you’re starting to annoy me. I know what my duties are. I know how to carry them out, and I don’t need you to act like my big brother. And you’re right, I’m under no professional obligation to keep medical data private, but there is such a thing as simple human courtesy.”
“So you have gone over?” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been monitoring the interpersonal dynamic between you and the others. You’re crossing over to their side.”
Gwen was nonplussed, uncertain that she heard correctly. “Their side? Griffin, you idiot, there are no sides. We’re a team—a team with a mission, and a team that has experienced tragedy. If there are two sides in this situation
, then you’re the lone member of one of them.”
“So you agree with their puncturing the ice cap? How did you fall so far? I thought we were in agreement on this.”
“We are. But they’re going to Lake Vostok whether I agree or not. My concerns are on the record. I have fears about contamination, but I can’t stop it. At least I can learn from it.”
“Tell me about Sarah.”
Gwen hesitated and studied her brother. He had always been the dominant of the two. They were born the same day, and both had a lifelong passion for science, but those were the only things they had in common. Griffin studied harder than anyone she had ever met, and she had attended the university with some of the finest young minds in the country. Griffin excelled them all. He had had no life beyond his studies, and now, his research consumed him. He had no friends, attended no parties; he was happiest when alone and surrounded by books and data. Still, he was her brother, and he loved her, in his own way. He never said so, but she could tell he was watching over her. They were close, tied together by an unseen umbilical that only twins understood.
“Sarah fainted.”
“Fainted? In the Chamber? While at the controls?”
“Leave it to you to paint the situation in the worst possible light.”
“But she was at the controls, right? So what? Did she just collapse?”
“That’s what people do when they faint.”
Griffin stared at her, and Gwen felt like a microbe under a microscope. “What are you not telling me?”
Gwen shrugged.
“You know I can read you like a book.”
“And I you.”
“Agreed, so let’s put this little charade behind us. Give me the rest of it.”
The turmoil in Gwen rose to a boil. “She has narcolepsy.”
Gwen had seldom seen Griffin stunned, but this was such a time. “The sleeping disease? I don’t believe it. Worse, I don’t believe Perry Sachs would be so stupid as to bring someone with a neurological disorder to the heart of Antarctica.”
