by Alex Archer
Zach didn’t say anything but kept staring at her as if he wanted her to take the next leap on her own. Annja took another sip of her gin and tonic and felt the liquor slide down her throat.
After a moment she set the glass back down. “You’re not, no, there’s absolutely no way…”
Zach’s eyebrows waggled. “Why not?”
Dave handed the necklace back. “Why not what?”
Annja sighed. “Extraterrestrial? You can’t be serious.”
“It’s possible, though, you have to admit,” Zach said, sounding excited.
Annja shook her head. “I’m not admitting anything. You’ve got something curious here, sure, but to think little green men from Mars planted this here is a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”
Zach frowned. “If you’ve got any better theories, I’d be more than willing to entertain them.”
“I don’t have any theories. I just got off a plane. I can use some good sleep. Maybe a few pleasant dreams. And in the morning, maybe we’ll be able to look at this in a more logical light.”
Dave pointed at the necklace as Zach slid it back on. “Where in the world did you ever find that?”
“I’m on a dig at the base of Horlick Mountain.”
Dave whistled. “You’re out on that one, huh? I heard some whispers that some sort of secret dig site was going on somewhere in the Transantarctic Range, but no one had any idea where it was.”
Zach nodded. “Well, do me a favor and don’t tell anyone now that you know. We don’t need the publicity.”
They took a moment to get their order of wings from the bar. Annja tore into one of them and her mouth watered as the hot sauce hit. She wiped her mouth on a napkin and then glanced around. “Why no publicity? Have there been problems?”
Zach shrugged. “Sort of. Down here, you’ll find a lot of different camps on the whole idea of how Antarctica should be used. The scientists want to study it because it’s a fascinating look back at our own history. We can learn a whole lot from this place. Antarctica used to be warm and lush, connected to Africa, India and Australia through the Gondwana supercontinent. When the continents broke apart, the land started to cool, which is why we don’t have fossil records dating later than twenty-five million years ago.”
“Too cold,” Annja said.
“Exactly. Earlier than that, we’ve got reptiles, plants, all sorts of connections to those continents I just mentioned.”
Dave frowned. “Which is why I’d guess your discovery of this necklace has made such an impact on you, huh? It’s from a time when there was supposed to be nothing much here.”
“Right. Meanwhile, the business folks come down here and see the natural resources this place has—all the coal, copper, chromium—and start seeing dollar signs. If it was up to them, they’d rape this place and leave it for dead.”
Annja sighed. “Wonderful.”
“And then you’ve got the various political machinations at work. No one is supposed to lay claim to any part of this great land, but they do so subtly anyway. Specifically, the U.S. and Russia. They’ve reserved the right to stake claims here. It’s ludicrous.”
“What else?” Annja asked.
Zach sighed. “Then you’ve got the people who have forgotten there’s another world outside this place. They’ve been here far too long. They get snow crazy. Think of themselves as protectors of this frozen paradise. They can be real nuts.”
“Did we just meet a few of them?” she asked.
Zach grinned. “I think they work for another faction.”
“Oh, great.”
“In the meantime,” Dave said, “you’d obviously like to figure out where your necklace came from.”
“You got it, pal. We’ve got a mystery here.”
Annja smiled. “So you called me.”
“I don’t know very many other archaeologists who can drop what they’re doing and fly down here at the last minute.”
“Well, technically, I’m not one of them, either, but your friends in the black suits had a very persuasive way about them.”
“Which brings me to the other part of this whole thing,” Zach said.
“That being?”
Zach leaned closer to her. “The government wants this investigated and kept strictly hush-hush.”
“Why?” Annja asked.
Dave smirked. “Every other country on the planet has basically come out and confirmed that they’ve been buzzed by flying saucers, and our government still tries to con the public with stories about weather balloons.”
Annja frowned. “Well, in some ways, you can’t blame them.”
“Why not?” Zach asked.
“Look at the timing of when we started hearing reports about extraterrestrials—right around the end of World War II. Right after we exploded the first nuclear weapons.”
“You’re saying there’s a connection?”
“I don’t know,” Annja said. “But we’d just finished demolishing Japan and ended the war. Then the Soviet Union entered the Cold War arms race with us, each nation trying to protect itself. And all of a sudden, oh, by the way, there are aliens, too?”
Zach smiled. “I’ve always loved the way you’re able to break everything down to the simplest terms possible.”
“Well, look at it from their perspective. Acknowledging the existence of space invaders would have sent the general public into absolute hysteria. As if it wasn’t bad enough we had to deal with the Soviets, we’ve got flying saucers prowling the skies? And we didn’t have anything technology-wise that could compete with them. The government had to make sure that the public felt we could protect ourselves,” Annja said.
Zach finished the last drops of his beer. “I suppose that makes sense, but I still don’t like the way they’ve continuously lied to us all these years.”
“Agreed, but you can at least appreciate their need to do so,” Annja said.
“I can appreciate it during the 1950s. I can’t understand it now when the Cold War is a thing of the past,” Zach said.
“Old habits die hard,” Dave said. “And some of those guys in the power circles of Washington look older than dinosaurs. Maybe we’ve been infiltrated.”
Annja laughed. “Next time say it without that smile and you might be more convincing.”
Zach patted his chest. “So with all that said, we’ve got ourselves a real interesting conundrum here.”
Annja leaned back. “So you found the necklace and told the government about it?”
“Not quite. I was on a small team at the dig site, and one of the people on the team was a government plant.”
“A plant? Why would they have a plant on a dig site in Antarctica? Last I heard, there were no weapons of mass destruction here,” Annja said.
Zach grinned. “Yeah, well, that was my fault for trusting people I thought were scientists when in fact they were scummy agents with the intelligence community. No sooner had I unearthed the necklace than I had a visit from some people who called themselves concerned representatives.”
“These the same folks who drafted me?” she asked.
“Probably.”
Annja glanced at Dave. “Lovely folks. Truly. Real warm-hearted souls.”
Dave smirked. “I’ll bet.”
“So they told you what?” Annja asked.
“That I had to figure it out. That I had to go back on the dig and see if I could unearth anything else. They sent me down some gear for the job and told me I could have a crew of whoever I wanted.”
“Guess that’s where I come in.”
“Yeah.” Zach sighed. “In the meantime, the dig site has been declared an environmental emergency.”
“What?”
“It’s how they’re containing it. They’ve claimed we spilled some sort of chemical compound there that they’re cleaning up. No one buys it, of course, but it gives the U.S. the right to put security people in place so they can control access.”
“Good grief, this is starting
to sound like something out of a science fiction movie.” Annja craned her neck, trying to relieve some of the tension she felt starting to creep in.
“It’s getting out of hand,” Zach said. “I figured the least I could do was bring in some people I actually trust, so I don’t have to work exclusively with professional liars.”
Annja nudged Dave. “I take it you’re on the team?”
“Yep. Just the rocks, ma’am.”
Zach looked at Annja. “So what do you say? Are you in?”
“Could I ever get out?” Annja smiled. “I’m basically stranded here now, anyway. I guess my choices are pretty limited. Besides, I’m more than a little intrigued by what you’ve told me so far. I’d like to check it out.”
Zach clapped his hands. “Awesome. Thanks, Annja. I really owe you for this.”
“Oh, I’ll collect. And I’m sure you’ll regret it later, but what the hell. When do we leave for the dig site?”
“Tomorrow morning. First thing,” Zach said.
“Dawn?”
Zach shrugged. “You can call it dawn, but it won’t be very light out when we leave. We’re entering the dark times around these parts. Sunlight won’t be a frequent visitor for a number of months.”
“Okay, so I’ll see you at what time?”
Zach checked his watch. “We leave at four o’clock.”
“Ouch.” Annja finished her drink and stood up. “That barely leaves enough time for a decent sleep.” She smirked. “But that’s cool. I’m going back to my luxurious digs now and taking a nice hot shower.”
“You mean a lukewarm bath,” Dave said. “Uses less hot water, which, as you might have guessed, is a bit of a premium in these parts.”
“Bath, then.” Annja smiled. “I’ll see you gents in the morning.”
“Wait,” Dave said. “Don’t you want a lift?”
Annja shrugged. “Back that way two blocks and up one on Main Street, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s probably twenty below out there,” he said.
“I can use the fresh air,” Annja said. “But thanks anyway.”
“Annja, your skin can freeze inside of two minutes if it’s exposed to the frigid air,” Zach said.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure I don’t expose myself on the way back to my room. Good night.” She walked back to the front door of the bar, slid into her parka and zipped up. In another moment, she eased out into the dark cold.
6
Dave was right. It was absolutely frigid outside, and the cold slammed into Annja like a five-ton truck zooming along at eighty miles per hour. She took a breath and felt her throat freeze. Her sinuses instantly shriveled, and she tucked herself down into the wind and started walking back up the road.
The gale-force winds howled around her, screeching through the nooks and crannies of the buildings that clustered in this part of McMurdo. The fallen snow was deep, as well, making her footing unstable. Twice she slipped and had to right herself before continuing. Every once in a while, she would look up to make sure she was still headed in the direction she needed to travel.
But it was slow going.
Maybe I should have opted for that ride, she thought.
But the truth was, she needed some time to think as she walked. Zach’s proposition that the necklace was alien in origin didn’t sit well with her. Sure, she’d seen plenty of things that regularly defied logical explanation. Her own situation as the inheritor of Joan of Arc’s mystical sword was just one of the many instances that had caused her to reevaluate her philosophies.
But extraterrestrials?
Annja couldn’t believe that. She knew a little about Antarctica’s history and how it had once been linked to other continents. She also knew that its mountain ranges were something of a peculiarity, with scientists believing that neither earthquakes nor tectonic smashes had formed them.
And the continent had plenty of volcanoes—eleven of them at last count. Some were active and continued to shed lava into the sea. The whole region was a fascinating trip into the primeval past.
But aliens?
The necklace was peculiar; there was no doubt of that. The weight of such thin material had caused Annja to wonder if it might have even been radioactive. But she dismissed that immediately, knowing the government would have already run tests on it. And there’d be no way Zach would wear it unless it was safe.
She frowned. Why was Zach wearing it? Didn’t he trust the people around here enough to leave it in a safe or something? Or had the government people ordered him to have it with him at all times?
But that was dangerous, too. Zach was a good guy and Annja knew he could hold his own in a fight if need be, but the two hitters she’d met earlier would have been able to take him without breaking a sweat.
She reached the top of the street and turned left. Main Street stood before her. Some of the buildings had lights on them that helped illuminate Annja’s path. She felt a bit foolish trudging through the frozen town, but then again, she did enjoy being independent.
She kept walking, knowing that her building lay up the street a few hundred feet. Once she got there, she could take that bath and then settle in for a nice sleep.
Sleeping on the flight down had been difficult at best. The interior of the LC-130 was Spartan, barely recognizable as a place where passengers sat. It also had no lavatory on board, just a drum filled with chemicals at the back of the plane. Annja had used it a few times and each time, the stench got grimmer and grimmer.
The noise had been oppressive, as well. Jet engines were noisy, but the turboprops were even louder. By the time she got to New Zealand, Annja had needed some serious migraine medicine.
Her boots got stuck in a bit of snow and she paused, yanking at the drift until she felt it give.
Annja glanced around. Somewhere in the distance, she thought she could hear an engine starting up. Maybe Dave was coming to look for her to see that she’d gotten home safe and sound.
Or maybe someone else was still up. After all, it couldn’t be much later than nine o’clock at night. Still, she didn’t know what passed for daily schedules around these parts.
She could see her building ahead. Annja huddled in against a harsh blast of wind and started to cross the street.
As she hustled, a Sno-Cat turned the corner and crawled toward her. Annja paused, trying to see into the cab beyond the bright headlights. She could see one person inside but only in shadow.
She waved.
The Sno-Cat kept coming at her.
Annja frowned. Maybe they didn’t see her. She turned and kept moving across the street.
Someone flew into her, tackling her from the side. Annja felt the wind rush out of her lungs and she and her attacker shot into the hard-packed snow together with a crash.
She could hear him huffing as he kept driving his elbow right into her midsection, slamming it repeatedly into her.
Annja grunted and tried to roll.
She heard a crack and felt her ribs explode in pain. “Dammit!”
The immense weight on top of her shifted and then vanished. Annja lay on her back in the middle of the street. Her breath came in spurts, and the needles of agony lancing through her came with every breath.
The headlights of the Sno-Cat continued to bear down on her.
So that was the plan—tackle her and try to immobilize her while the slow-moving snow vehicle stalked her. If she couldn’t move, she’d get run over.
She stared at the headlights. The Sno-Cat was only forty feet from her now. She tried to get up, but the weight of her clothing made movement tough, combined with the incredible pain shooting through her. She felt as if she were a beetle trapped on its back.
She had to move!
Her fingers fumbled for her zipper and found it. She tore it down and then took a deep breath. Clenching her teeth, she squirmed out of the jacket. Finally free of it, she rolled and screamed as the pain almost became too much.
Then she was up and acr
oss the street as the Sno-Cat crawled past, crushing her parka in the snow.
A few more seconds and that would have been me, Annja thought.
She staggered toward her building, aware now that she was terribly exposed to the harsh cold. She reached the door and fell inside, collapsing on the floor.
“Annja?”
She looked up and saw Trevor’s face. “Someone tried to kill me,” she gasped.
His face hardened. “What? Here? When?”
“Just now. Outside.” Annja took a breath. “My ribs. Someone tackled me. I think they’re broken.”
She felt Trevor’s hands under her armpits. “Okay, okay, let’s get you upstairs where you can lie down. I’ll send for a medical team. They can check you out and make sure you’re okay.”
He lifted her and Annja cried out. The pain felt like a hot poker being pushed into her lungs.
“Easy,” Trevor said. “I’ve got you. Just rest all your weight on me. I think I can handle it.”
They took the stairs slowly and made their way to Annja’s room. Trevor sat her on her bed and then removed her boots, got a wool blanket and covered her.
“Don’t want you going into shock. I need to elevate your feet, too,” he said.
Annja took a breath and nodded when she was ready. Trevor was mercifully quick, getting her settled and sliding another folded blanket under her heels.
Annja closed her eyes. She could hear Trevor using the telephone. “I need a medic over at Building 5. Possible broken ribs. Okay. Thanks.”
He hung up and then leaned in close to her. “Who did this to you?”
Annja shook her head. “I don’t know. I was walking—”
“Walking? What the hell were you out walking for? You know how cold it is out there?”
Annja smiled. “Needed some fresh air.”
“That’s not fresh air, Annja. That’s death air. That stuff’ll kill you dead before you know what hit you. Don’t mess around down here. You can get disoriented way too easily. And you might not even be found before it’s too late.”
