Beneath the Ice

by Alton Gansky

  “Then you haven’t looked far enough,” Perry said.

  “This is about your faith, isn’t it?” Griffin said. “You think by sacrificing yourself, you’ll be in good stead with God.”

  “Not at all,” Perry said. “My standing with God is based on Jesus’ sacrifice, not mine.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “Because Jesus did it for me,” Perry said. “And because it makes the most sense. We’re in a tough situation here. We need to do what we must to survive as long as we can. Maybe something will happen to our benefit.”

  “You mean God might intervene.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. We stay alive as long as we can, and we look for opportunities to save ourselves.”

  “And this gives you comfort?” Griffin shook his head.

  “It gives me much more than that.”

  “Such thinking is nonsense,” Griffin said.

  Perry met Griffin’s eye. “Do I look like a stupid man to you?”

  “Well, no . . .”

  “What about Jack? He kids a lot, but have you seen anything to suggest that his intellect is weak, or that he’s subject to superstition? Or Gleason here? He’s one of the smartest men I know. Dr. Curtis leads his field, but he finds faith in Christ reasonable and compelling.”

  “Rejecting the spiritual doesn’t make one intelligent except in his own eyes,” Jack added. “To refuse to see the truth of faith is the real insult to intelligence.”

  “I’m after truth,” Griffin said.

  “No, you’re not,” Perry retorted. “You’re after truth that fits your view. You dispel everything else. Take that object below the ice. I don’t know if it is the Tower of Babel, but I know it’s there, and that means I have to consider what at the moment seems unreasonable. That ziggurat is there whether I believe it is or should be.” He turned back to the suit. “In a few hours, Lord willing, I’ll be touching it.”

  “Why does he want you to go down there?” Gleason asked. “I can understand why you brought the suits. Taking samples of the object would be helpful.”

  “I don’t know what his motivation is,” Perry said. “He sees himself as the servant to some ancient Babylonian gods.”

  “He may think he is one of the gods,” Jack said.

  “That’s a frightening thought,” Gleason said. He paused. “I have some bad news.”

  Perry shrugged. “Another log on the fire, eh?”

  “Slick is making better headway than we thought. Enkian has it working at full steam, and it is moving twice as fast through the opening. In another few hours it will be down to the water column. I estimate it’ll break through six hours after that.”

  “That should give the batteries enough time to fully charge,” Perry said. “Let’s set up the other suit too. It’s here, so it might as well be ready.”

  In college, Perry’s physics professor had told the class something Albert Einstein had said. “To paraphrase the great thinker, time is relative. Time spent with a pretty girl moves faster than time spent sitting on a hot stove.” Perry understood Einstein’s point all too well. Time spent in pleasure passes much faster than that spent in pain—as does time spent in fear. Time was passing quickly for Perry, too quickly. When Hairy began its descent through the ice, it seemed like an eternity before it would reach the lake below. Slick was making the distance in a third of the time.

  Now something was eating at Perry, something he couldn’t put a finger on. The last day had been filled with thoughts of survival, his mind working to find a solution that would save him and his friends. In the midst of thoughts that swirled like leaves in a tornado was the undying inkling that something wasn’t right, that just behind the veil of ignorance was a revelation of great importance—a dangerous revelation.

  “Suit up,” Enkian ordered. Perry looked at the tanned man with the hard face. There was a malevolent intelligence in his eyes, and determination was tattooed on his face. It was that determination that unsettled Perry. Enkian was a man with a cause. Perry didn’t fully understand yet, but he knew the most dangerous men in the world were those driven by causes. Causes made suicide bombers commit horrible acts against innocents; they sent the unstable into murderous rages; they sent nations to war.

  What was Enkian’s cause? And what was Perry missing?

  The thoughts continued to spin as Perry approached the dive suit. He had watched as the apparatus was moved into position near the ice shaft. The sound of cable being wound around its drum pulled his attention away. Slick was being raised. Enkian had ordered it lifted the moment it touched the lake. The shaft was now large enough to accommodate a man in the newly designed, hardshell dive suit. Slick would be back in the Chamber soon, and Enkian was wasting no time. Perry was to begin his descent as soon as possible.

  The suit rested on its stand, its torso separated from feet and legs like a robot cut in half at the waist. Jack stepped to Perry’s side. His dark skin seemed darker, and the twinkle that lived in his eyes was missing. Perry had never before seen Jack truly frightened. Now he had.

  Jack helped Perry remove his parka and the rest of his cold suit. The frigid air assaulted him, stinging his skin and sinking into his body like water into a sponge. He shivered.

  “Let’s get you into this tux before you freeze,” Jack said. Perry was wearing nothing but his thermal underwear. Jack handed him a rubberized suit, similar to a dry suit worn by cold water divers. It was more formfitting and would help keep his body temperature stable.

  A bar hung over the lower portion of the dive suit. Perry slipped on gloves, took hold of the bar, and pulled himself up so he could swing his legs into their intended opening. He felt a hand grab his left foot. Jack was guiding him. Then he felt another hand grab his right ankle. Perry looked down and saw Gleason on his right.

  Perry wiggled, shifted, and squeezed himself into the leg openings. Unlike older, bulkier JIM suits that allowed more room for the diver but were unwieldy and difficult to handle, the AD suit was close to formfitting. Perry had just enough room to shift while in the suit and for warm air heated by onboard heaters to circulate. Gel pads pressed against Perry’s legs.

  “I still don’t know what you want me to do,” he said to Enkian.

  “I want a stone from the ziggurat.”

  “A stone? Those things are huge. I can’t lift one of those.”

  Enkian shook his head. “You weren’t paying attention, Mr. Sachs. Do you know the Bible?”

  “I have an acquaintance with it.”

  “The first book of the Bible is Genesis. Chapter eleven tells the story.” He closed his eyes and began to quote: “ ‘Now the whole earth used the same language and the same words. And it came about as they journeyed east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. And they said to one another—’?”

  “ ‘Come, let us make bricks and burn them thoroughly,’ ” Perry finished the quote. “ ‘And they used brick for stone, and they used tar for mortar.’ ”

  “I’m impressed. The larger stones of the ziggurat are made up of smaller elements. For all intents and purposes they are bricks. The large building blocks are composed of smaller bricks. You should have no problem.”

  “How could fire-sealed mud bricks have endured next to a lake?” Griffin asked. “The water would have destroyed them.”

  “Oh, the ziggurat shows some damage. That is to be expected. But remember, Dr. James—” Enkian raised a finger as he spoke. “The structure has not been in the lake; the lake is rising to meet it. It’s been encased in ice until now. Now it is being revealed, just as the ancient prophecies predicted.”

  The platform upon which Perry stood was slightly elevated, giving him a better view into the shaft. The cable continued to be drawn from the hole and wrapped around a large drum. Two miles of cable took up a lot of space. But it wasn’t the cable that caught his attention. It was the back end of Slick emerging into the Chamber.

  Enkian turned and watched the large,
torpedo-shaped device surface. “Your mission begins as soon as your friends move the cryobot out of the way.”

  Perry felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air temperature. He looked at Jack, who had not left his side. Jack couldn’t return the gaze. Gleason stood on the other side, shoulders slumped like a man who was holding up the world.

  It took half an hour to clear the entrance to the shaft, a phenomenal speed made possible only with the ordered aid of Enkian’s men. It was clear that Enkian was becoming impatient.

  Perry used the time to adjust his suit, check the systems for the fourth time, and prepare his soul. There was a good chance he would fail, and if he failed, he would die. If he died, Enkian would certainly send someone else down to retrieve a brick. Perry reminded himself that his failure would probably mean the death of a friend.

  “It’s time, pal,” Jack said.

  “I know.”

  “We’re praying for you. You know that.”

  Perry nodded. Gleason stood by Jack and Dr. Curtis. A few steps behind them, Griffin, Gwen, and Sarah huddled together. He could see tears in their eyes.

  “Cheer up, everyone,” Perry said. “Remember, I planned to go down anyway. It was all part of the mission.”

  “Not like this,” Jack said. “Not with these murderous clowns standing around with their guns. We should run tests first.”

  Jack was right. Perry had intended to spend a week in testing: sending the suit down empty and monitoring its life support systems, its reaction to current, and a dozen other parameters.

  The top half of the suit was lowered over Perry, and he wiggled his arms into place and shifted his shoulders until he was in the tight space. The helmet was 50 percent clear, high-strength plastic that gave the illusion that the world was suddenly curved more than it had been a moment before.

  He had been in the suit dozens of times, practicing in the same tank NASA used to train astronauts for EVAs—space walks. That pool was heated, and rescue divers were never far away. In a few moments he would be lowered into a tight-fitting hole and descend through two miles of ice.

  Jack and Gleason tightened the metal ring that sealed the top half of the suit to the bottom. Perry was fully encased. He turned his head in the bulbous helmet to catch another view of his friends. The tension was palpable.

  “Radio check,” a voice said over the speakers in his helmet. It was Gleason. Perry could see him standing near the computer and monitor. He was wearing a headset. Perry knew his voice was coming over speakers attached to the monitor, but the headset provided the microphone necessary for Gleason to talk to Perry.

  “Check.”

  “O-two feed looks nominal.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Heat?”

  “Toasty.”

  There was a jerking motion, and Perry felt himself being lifted from the platform. A small crane would move him over the hole and lower him. A plastic-coated support cable was attached to a metal loop just behind the helmet. Power feed and optic lines ran from onboard cameras along the support cable.

  He could see the shaft approaching, but once over it, he lost sight of it. The helmet kept him from looking down.

  The motion changed. He was no longer moving over the ice floor but was descending. As he was lowered, he came to eye level with those in the room. The armed men stood around, faces as stoic as ever. Sarah had joined Jack and Gleason at the controls. Gwen and Griffin stood side by side, Griffin’s arm around his sister. Enkian was closest, anticipation clear on his face. Tia was by his side. He caught a glimpse of Dr. Curtis, who gave an out of character wave and then closed his eyes.

  Perry was jostled as his feet entered the hole. He had peered down the hole and knew that blackness was waiting to engulf him. As he inched his way down, he caught sight of Commander Larimore standing a few steps away from Enkian.

  He was smiling.

  For a moment, Perry assumed the smile was an offer of encouragement, but it didn’t look right. It appeared more sneer than smile.

  Perry looked for his friends. He needed to see them, to draw strength from the knowledge that there were people who cared enough to support him, and more importantly, to pray for him. Gwen and Sarah both looked frightened and on the verge of tears. He flashed a smile their way. Then he caught a glimpse of Jack. Friendship was not defined by the laws of physics and nature. Perry could feel the man’s concern, sense his fear—a fear not for himself but for Perry. Jack mouthed something. It took a moment for Perry to decipher the lip motions: “Go with God.”

  Perry would go with God. He had no other choice.

  “‘From the breath of God ice is made,’” Perry said, “‘and the expanse of the waters is frozen.’”

  “What was that?” Enkian asked.

  Jack fixed him with a steely glance. “You asked if Perry knew the Bible, didn’t you? That’s a passage from the book of Job.” Jack turned back to the sight of his friend descending into the shaft. “Godspeed, my friend. Godspeed.”

  The Chamber with its artificial light and human inhabitants gave way to the glistening white of ice. Perry had no room to move. Slick had carved out just enough space for the suit to fit. His hands, encased in the rigid arms, were folded in front of him, his feet dangled above nothingness.

  A passage from Psalms came to mind:

  Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?

  If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.

  If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,

  Even there Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me.

  If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, and the light around me will be night,”

  Even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day.

  Darkness and light are alike to You.

  He was about to test the truth of that passage.

  Chapter 26

  Henry Sachs was shown into the kitchen of the White House, his wife Anna by his side. They were led to the unexpected place by a young Hispanic man who introduced himself as the president’s “body man.”

  “I’m the personal aide to the president,” the man said and smiled. “I do the grunt work . . . and I love it.”

  Sachs saw the president seated at a country-style wood table. He was wearing khaki slacks and a blue polo shirt. He looked tired.

  “Come in, Henry, come in,” he said, waving. “I hope this isn’t too informal for you. Pie always tastes better in an informal setting.”

  “It’s fine,” Sachs said, puzzled. He and Anna had just flown from Seattle to Washington, D.C., at the request of the president. They were worn, wearied by travel and worry. The body man pulled out a chair for Anna, and she took it. “Mr. President—”

  President Calvert raised a finger and shook his head. “I appreciate you making the trip on such short notice. I know you have a great deal on your mind and that things are difficult.”

  A man in a chef’s uniform stepped forward and placed three plates before them. Each held a slice of cherry pie and a small mound of vanilla ice cream. He then served coffee.

  “Leave the pot, Bob,” the president said. “And you better leave the pie.”

  “If you would like an additional piece, I will be happy to serve it,” the man said.

  “No,” Calvert replied. “Just leave everything on the table and make sure everyone has left the kitchen. I would like some private time with my friends.”

  “But, sir—” the worker objected then changed his tone. He nodded and said, “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “You have cooks in the White House at this hour?” Sachs asked.

  “It’s one of the benefits of being president. The hours are long, and meetings can occur any hour of the day. It’s nice to have someone who can brew a pot of coffee when you need it.” He waited a few moments before speaking again. “I grew up far from Washington. My roo
ts go back to Iowa farmers. Growing up, most of my meals were eaten in the kitchen. It was where the family gathered and where friends felt at ease. This job requires that I wear a tuxedo to many meals. A man can’t eat properly when wearing a tuxedo.”

  “I understand, Mr. President,” Sachs said.

  Calvert looked around the kitchen. “Please eat.” He took a bite of the pie and then looked at Henry and Anna. “I have information for you. One of our eyes in the sky was able to take a few photos of the site where your son was working. As you suggested, we didn’t see anyone wandering around outside.”

  Anna raised a shaky hand to her forehead, and Sachs placed his hand on her knee. “I guessed as much.”

  “There are, however, more ways of seeing. Satellite technology has come a long way. You’re a man of technology, Henry, so you can understand that. I can’t give you details because the apparatus is still highly classified. In fact, what I’m about to show you is a breach of secrecy, but you have a right to know. Besides, it’s very hard to fire a president.” He reached down by his chair and pulled a manila folder to the table. He opened it and slid it to Sachs, then he took another bite of pie.

  Sachs pulled the folder close and immediately recognized what he was looking at: a photo of barren ice with two domes and two square buildings. “I recognize the domes. I helped design them.”

  “That first photo shows the site is still intact and apparently functioning. There isn’t much to see: just the buildings and one other thing. It’s the other thing that is interesting.”

  Sachs looked at the photo again, and Anna leaned in from his side. “I don’t see anything unusual—just the domes and other buildings and the plane . . .”

  The president nodded. “Look at the aircraft. Does it look familiar?”

  “No.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “No aircraft should be there. The aircraft that crashed was supposed to be the last flight in or out for weeks. It was part of the security precautions. Who does it belong to?”