All content with the exception of (*) is the property of the author. © 2001 Kiera Dellacroix.
This story, characters, and incidents are fictitious. No identification or similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or entities is intended or should be inferred.
Many thanks to Diva for correcting my limited command of punctuation.
This one isn’t for the kiddies and definitely rates an NC-17 rating. Excessively Alt., Callous Language, Groovy Violence, Crass Humor.
Enormous thanks to everyone who wrote me regarding Engravings of Wraith I’m a terrible email manager so I truly hope I didn’t miss anyone and responded to all of you. Your words were and are very appreciated.
Happy Halloween! [email protected]
ICEHOLE
Kiera Dellacroix
02/15/02 - 1200 hours
Another small piece of paper was torn off the tablet on her desk and with a wary glance around, the scrap found a temporary home in her mouth. Her first salvo of missiles had missed their target, a dilemma she felt she would soon rectify as she determinedly zeroed in on the back of Ensign Taylor’s neck.
The brown-nosing little shit was completely unaware of her previous assault and she scowled as she loaded her weapon. The spitball was chambered into the end of a soda straw with a minimum of fuss and she took careful aim. Unfortunately, her prior efforts had lacked both altitude and distance so she took the time to carefully calculate all of the environmental factors. Taylor sat at his desk, roughly twelve feet away, with his back to her. Her projectile would have to possess the power to travel through the door of her office and have enough altitude to carry it on to her intended victim.
Finally confident, she inhaled deeply and leaned back in her chair, discharging her weapon with a loud expel of breath. She watched happily as the moist little wad of paper stung the back of the Ensign’s neck with a satisfying splat and she turned rapidly to the computer on her desk, innocently feigning productivity.
Instead of finding the monitor, her eyes landed on the stern features of her commanding officer and she silently cursed the painfully transparent glass walls of her office. Judging from the distinct look of displeasure on his face, he had witnessed the entire incident. Fooling no one but herself, she tried vainly to pretend she didn’t see him and industriously began to type nonsense into her keyboard. She noted movement out of the corner of her eye and grimaced in anticipation of the inevitable confrontation.
“Commander,” he said frostily from the doorway. “I’m going to go get a cup of coffee and return to my office. I strongly suggest you be there waiting for me by the time I arrive.”
“Yes, sir,” she said quickly, rising from her seat. The Admiral turned and strode away, deftly navigating through a maze of cubicles. She ambled after him, changing course halfway across the room to take the shortcut to his office and arriving quickly at the desk of the attending Yeoman.
“Admiral Eaton requested that I wait for him,” she said miserably. A small, knowing smile. “Go right in, Commander.”
She tried not to sigh as she entered the room and stood at attention in front of his desk, waiting several minutes for the sound of an opening door. Prudently keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, she waited for the stately elder man to seat himself behind his desk. A long and increasingly uncomfortable silence ensued as he studied her with a mixture of disappointment and frustration.
“Your resignation is tabled,” he said finally. “I’d like you to consider an alternate command for a period of at least one year. If after that time you still wish to resign, it will be honored.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” she said confusedly.
“You’re a damn good officer when you’re not being a complete jackass,” he said tiredly. “Your operational record is nothing short of outstanding and I’d be willing to bet your name will be on the promotion list for full Commander within the next eighteen months. I’d like you to take this assignment and use the time to reconsider resigning your commission. The Navy would like to keep you.”
She considered silently.
“Yes or no?” he asked impatiently.
“Where?”
“Antarctica,” he replied quickly. “It’s a Joint Task Force command overseen by the Department of Defense at the request of the NSF.”
“Antarctica?” she said in surprise. “Wouldn’t that be in violation of...?”
“Yes,” he interrupted. “It’s a classified operation and facility. The construction finished ahead of schedule and the interim civilian leader down there abruptly decided to depart a season early. You weren’t on the list of original command candidates. However, none of those considered are available at such short notice and in desperation, I recommended you for the job. Surprisingly, your nomination was unanimously accepted.”
“Why?” she asked bluntly.
“Because,” he said slowly. “I want to keep you but I don’t want to put up with you any longer.”
She smiled. “When?”
“Eighteen hours. All information will be provided in text due to time constraints,” he explained quickly. “Yes or no?”
Another thoughtful silence. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said, rising from his seat. “Your flight leaves from Andrews at 0600 to Christchurch, New Zealand. From there you’ll hook up with 109th Air Mobility Wing which will transport you to McMurdo. You can take the rest of the day to get your shit in order.”
“Very well,” she said. “Dismissed, Commander,” he said kindly. She sketched a salute. “Take care, sir,” she said with a grin.
“You too,” he said fondly, watching with a smile as she turned and strode from his office.
02/19/02 - 1800 hours
Tired eyes slowly surveyed the people gathered within the confines of the mess hall. He subtly cleared his throat and waited patiently for everyone to get settled, there was no rush. The news he had to deliver would be met with some hostility, even though all knew it was inevitable.
His gaze landed briefly upon each person and he favored every set of eyes that met his own with a small smile and an approving nod. He would miss them, having come to think of the people working within the complex as family. “What’s the scoop, skipper?” Dr. Rivers asked cheerfully when everyone had quieted down.
He spared a glance at the little doctor and grinned; the woman was just as cute as she could be. If there was anyone he would miss above all the others, it was Corky Rivers. Her popularity among the staff was second to none and he had developed a fierce paternal affection for her. Lucky if she stood an inch over five feet tall, with shoulder-length black hair that lived in a constant state of disarray, the diminutive figure contained twelve feet of ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude. She was friendly and fiendishly brilliant, but woe to the individual that pissed her off.
“Show some patience, Corky,” he chided. “Is everyone here?”
“All of the civilians are here,” Corky replied easily. He sighed. She was going to take the news hard. “Then we’re all here,” he said reluctantly. “Why is that?” Corky asked, her brown eyes narrowing suspiciously. Bracing himself for the explosion that was only minutes away, he ambled over and sat upon a folding table in front of the gathered people, letting his legs dangle freely off the floor.
“Well,” he started slowly, “as you know, I was originally assigned to this project to supervise construction. Now that it’s complete and we can concentrate our efforts solely on excavation, the administration of this facility falls into military hands.”
His eyes took in a number of resigned sighs and shaking heads, at last coming to rest on a pair of brown eyes burning brightly under a mop of unruly black hair. He could tell from the reddening cheeks that an outburst was building up st
eam. She took a deep breath and he acted quickly.
“Save it, Corky,” he said sharply. “Everyone knew this was going to happen and it’s a stipulation all agreed to before signing on.”
Corky subsided grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest childishly.
“I tell you this now, because I won’t be wintering over this year.” He held up a hand against the beginning protest. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow with the arrival of the new skipper.”
“Goddamn it, Larry,” Corky said angrily. “All U.S. operations on the continent are under the purview of the NSF.”
“That is true,” he said mildly. “However, each and every one of you knows the classified nature of this facility and was aware that the military would eventually take control here. There will be a drastic increase in both civilian and military personnel next season and since I recently decided not to winter over, they’re sending the new boss ahead of schedule.”
“Who are they sending to replace you, Larry?” Clovis Stokes asked in his gruff voice.
“No doubt some jarhead with a roll of quarters stuck up his ass,” Corky mumbled, getting a few hesitant chuckles from her colleagues.
“Actually, you’re not getting a jarhead, you’re getting a sailor,” Larry replied quietly, throwing a disapproving look at Corky.
“Coast Guard?” Clovis asked.
“No, Navy.”
“What?” Corky sprang from her seat. “The Navy ceased operations on the continent years ago. How could they be in charge?”
He sighed. “This entire facility is being funded by the DOD, they can send anyone they want. This operation is now considered a Task Force Command.”
“How the hell does a sailor fit in here?” Corky demanded angrily.
“You’d be surprised, Dr. Rivers,” he said with a hint of warning.
“What’s his background?” Dr. Lenard asked reasonably.
“He is a she,” Larry replied as he pulled the orders from his pocket and consulted them. “One Lt. Commander Malory Q. Lovecraft. Assigned to Naval Intelligence since her graduation from Annapolis in 1994.”
“Is that all the info you have?” Dr. Lenard asked. “Why would they assign an Intelligence officer?”
“It was a last minute posting so the information provided was not all that educational,” Larry admitted. “Although, I can tell you that her most recent fitness report described her as unorthodox.”
“That’s just great.” Corky mumbled. “A Section Eight sailor trapped in the dark with us for eight months.”
“Dr. Rivers,” Larry said sharply. “I suggest that upon her arrival you treat her with respect, that is, if you expect to receive any in return. I wasn’t going to mention it, but now I feel I should. Commander Lovecraft is a decorated officer and is held in high regard. She may not find your comments as amusing as you might hope.”
An irritable grunt was his only reply.
“Look people,” he stated. “The fact of the matter is, this facility would not have been a possibility without military intervention. What is of the utmost importance is the excavation, which is why the majority of you are here to begin with. The United States is not the only government with interests here and you all know that if this complex was discovered, it would be in direct violation of the Antarctic Treaty. I might also remind you that it was the NSF itself that asked the military for their involvement. If we had not done so, we would now be competing over this site with an untold amount of foreign governments.”
He spared a glance at his audience and was gratified to note that even Corky had subsided quietly. “That this facility remains a secret is due solely to the military’s efforts. The NSF does not and did not have the means to construct this site without it being detected by foreign satellite surveillance. At this point in the game, the military is assuming command and are here to provide continuing security and to administrate and evaluate the ongoing needs of this operation.” He sighed and allowed himself a small smile. “Give the new Commander a break and let her do her job. In addition, I better not get a bad report from her on any of you when I return in the summer.”
His smile grew affectionate as this news was met with a happy response, most notably from the shining brown eyes of the group’s medical doctor.
“Now that we have that out of the way, I’ve arranged for a little party,” he said slyly. “Break out the booze and let’s all hope I’ve provided enough munchies.”
He held up a hand to forestall the rising cheers. “But first,” he added in a stern voice. “I’ll need to see Dr. Rivers in my office, please.” With that, he turned and strode from the room without another word.
Corky sighed and slowly stood from her seat to follow Larry, trying her best to ignore the impressively unmusical chorus of her childishly teasing coworkers.
“Corky’s in trouble, Corky’s in trouble.”
———
Larry puttered into his office and sat down behind the desk to await the arrival of the troublesome doctor. He had finished packing his things shortly before he summoned everyone to the mess and he spared a remorseful glance around the room; the bare walls and shelves a not so subtle reminder that this office, come the morrow, would no longer be his own. He looked up at the quiet knock and noted the sheepish look being cast in his direction.
“Sit down, Corky,” he said gesturing to a chair in front of his desk and waiting until she seated herself before continuing.
“I know you have a bug up your ass over military involvement here and for the most part I’ve ignored your rather contemptuous attitude toward the service men already among us,” he stated quietly. “What I don’t understand is why.”
Corky shifted in her chair uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with the sturdy and graying older man.
“In the past, I’ve let you get away with it and I probably shouldn’t have,” he admitted. “The men here have been invaluable and have been nothing but polite to you, yet you treat all of them as if they are a barely tolerated enemy.”
She opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by an upraised hand.
“If you think for one minute the new boss will let you get away with such behavior, you’re gravely mistaken,” he said sharply. “How do you think it will feel to have your security clearance revoked and to spend the rest of your tour confined to quarters?”
“She wouldn’t dare,” she said unbelievingly.
“Don’t fool yourself, Corky,” he replied. “The U.S. has a lot at stake here and there is no reason why someone with your attitude would be tolerated. Also, with that thought in mind, you can rest assured that they wouldn’t send an idiot to take charge here. I would assume Commander Lovecraft to be quite formidable.”
Corky fidgeted in her chair, remaining silent.
“I’m waiting,” Larry said calmly.
“Waiting for what?” she asked lamely.
“Waiting for you to explain just what your problem is so I can help you save your job,” he explained indifferently.
He watched a myriad of emotions cross the woman’s features, noting at last, the determined and stubborn clench of her jaws.
“You’re not leaving this room until you come clean, Corky,” he said tiredly.
Her eyes narrowed for battle.
He sighed and reached out to enter the intercom code on the phone in front of him. “This is Daniels,” he said, his voice reverberating down the halls outside. “Would PO DeSoto report to my office, please?”
Corky’s eyes widened in shock, knowing DeSoto to be the communications officer.
“It’s rather late in the game to request a doctor, especially one with your skills,” Larry said mildly. “But hopefully we can acquire another before winter sets in.”
Corky shrunk in her seat. “Larry...” she began sweetly.
“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted. “I have two daughters, you’re wasting your time playing the sweet and contrite card.”
Thwarted, she thought furiously. It was
only a matter of seconds before DeSoto arrived.
“You’re running out of time.”
Corky ground her teeth, wanting to scream in frustration. Who knew that Larry could be so ruthless? She spared a quick appraising glance at the man; she both admired and genuinely cared for him. His approval had come to mean a lot to her and she didn’t want to disappoint him by revealing anything. Yet, staying on her current course wouldn’t win her any brownie points and she would most likely not only disappoint him, but lose her job.
“Alright, Larry,” she said reluctantly, a split second before the doorway was darkened.
“You called for me, sir?” DeSoto asked politely.
“Yes, but I don’t think I’ll need anything now,” Larry said giving Corky a hard stare, gratified when she nodded slightly. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“No problem, sir,” DeSoto said easily in parting.
Larry waited a moment and leaned back in his chair. “Let’s hear it.”
Corky took a deep breath, hoping she hadn’t underestimated him. “Well...”
02/20/02 - 0930 hours
A mildly curious gaze occasionally looked up from the papers in her lap to watch the bleak, white landscape speed by from within the confines of the helicopter. The view now was the same as it had been twenty minutes ago when they had lifted off from McMurdo; an endless landscape covered in white, occasionally highlighted with light and shadows from the low sun of polar summer. A sun that would soon disappear and leave the continent in darkness for the eight months of the winter season. Not that it would matter. She would be spending that time completely underground, or more accurately, under the ice.
She returned her attention to the papers in her lap, taking in the details that would make up her new command. Upon her arrival, she would be taking charge over an impressively vast and self-contained complex. The base itself completely hidden from prying eyes and housing a winter population of thirty-one people, the majority of which were from the National Science Foundation.
Icehole Page 1
