by David Wood
And Jeff Gray is gonna Jeff Gray, Aston thought. He shook his head. “Just mountains, buddy. Just rock.”
Gray laughed, slapped Aston’s shoulder again. “Suuuuure! And the Lake Kaarme monster was just a floating log.” He dropped heavily back into his seat, still chuckling.
Aston wondered if these were the same peaks that had caused the internet stir, or new ones. It was entirely possible there were a number of similar formations to be discovered. He supposed it didn’t matter. After another hour, dark marks against the snow became visible, beneath the shadows of the peaks. Soon enough the base was right in front of them, and it turned out to be far more impressive than Aston had anticipated.
He had expected wooden buildings and corrugated iron huts, maybe something like the set from that Carpenter movie, The Thing. Instead he saw sleek, aerodynamically designed buildings on crisscrossed stilts. Single story, olive green wedges with narrow vertical windows splashing warm orange light onto the snow outside. Solar panels adorned the roofs, wind turbines stood in ranks on low ridges behind, turning in the stiff breeze. Surrounding the modern buildings were the tin sheds he had expected, and ranks of gas bottles and oil barrels in cages, wooden shacks with Ski-doos and all-terrain vehicles parked inside. The whole place was ordered and well-kept, and he presumed it was newly set up. Had SynGreene financed all this? They must be pretty confident about their discovery, and about getting permission to mine it, if they had.
Sol led the team up steel steps into the largest of the dark, futuristic buildings and Aston was even more impressed with the interior. Everything was modern, new-looking. Modular lounges and glass-topped tables, sleek marble bars and chrome-legged chairs. Obviously SynGreene had poured a lot of money into the place and Aston wondered just what they hoped to get back. Their expected return on investment must be huge to justify this level of commitment and expense. A few armed men wandered here and there, calm but serious, all casually carrying weapons, sidearms at the hips. Other staff moved busily around, presumably there to cook, clean, and maintain the base.
“What’s with the security?” he asked Sol. “The polar bears particularly aggressive near here?”
“No polar bears here, Sam. Just birds and seals. You’re thinking of the Arctic.”
Aston rolled his eyes. “I know that. I was being facetious. But it’s more than just birds and seals.” Sol frowned and Aston was pleased to have turned the tables. He was the biologist, after all. He wouldn’t be condescended to by this guy. “Yeah,” he said. “You can’t forget the ATIs.”
Sol quirked an eyebrow. “What’s an ATI?”
Aston grinned. “Antarctic Terrestrial Invertebrate.”
“You’re kidding me. What even is that?”
“Nope, not kidding. Nematode worms, mites, tardigrades, springtails, stuff like that.”
Others in the group had gathered to listen and Jahara Syed took up the point. “He’s right, it’s pretty fascinating. There are sixty-seven species of insects recorded here, which is nothing compared to the millions on all other continents, but significant for a place where until very recently people thought nothing could live.”
“They respond to temperature,” Aston said. “They might be awake for a few hours, or even less, then dormant, sometimes actually frozen, for days or weeks or even months, before they thaw out and go about their business again.”
“Well, that’s just creepy as can be,” Marla said quietly.
Aston was pleased to see that even Slater was paying attention, her fury momentarily forgotten.
“But we’re talking microscopic, right?” Jeff Gray asked.
“Like his package,” Marla whispered, just loud enough for Aston to hear.
“Not entirely,” Syed said. “But the biggest of them is a wingless midge that reaches a maximum of about thirteen millimeters in length.”
“So not likely to eat us in bed,” Jeff said.
“Nor is anyone else,” Marla said. “God, the jokes write themselves with this tool.”
“Well, if they did eat you, it would happen incredibly slowly,” Aston said with a grin, trying not to let Marla distract him too much. “Even so, they’re among the toughest creatures on the planet.”
Marla shook herself. “Bugs. I can’t believe that even down here we have to deal with damned bugs.”
“Bugs own the planet, really, but that’s a long series of lectures we don’t have time for,” Aston said. He turned back to Sol. “So, back to my original point. Why all the armed guards?”
Sol laughed. “Just company policy. Besides, it’s never a bad thing to have a few peacemakers around, don’t you think?”
To make peace between which people, Aston wondered, but kept the thought to himself. Slater glanced back at him, caught his eye. He gave a little shrug, but her expression remained neutral. She had been checking though, looking for his reaction to Sol’s casual dismissal of the armed guards. It made him happy that she was paying attention to what he thought of things. It boded well for a possible thawing of their own relationship. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.
Sol led them into a large conference room, those tall narrow windows all along one side looking out over the frozen expanse of Antarctica, away from the sea, invisible some two hours away in the other direction. Slater wouldn’t meet Aston’s eye again and took a seat at the far end of the oval table, as far from him as she could get. To his annoyance, Jeff Gray sat right beside him. Did the man think they were friends now?
Aston looked around the table once everyone was seated, trying to guess what was happening here. Apart from himself, and Slater with her crew of Jeff and Marla, there was Sol Griffin, supposedly a physician, but obviously much more. To Aston’s left sat Anders Larsen the geologist, then Jahara Syed, the biologist. Next to her was Dig O’Donnell, an archeologist. And that gave him pause. He hadn’t thought about it before, but archeologists were experts in ancient civilizations. What use was there for that knowledge down here? The door, he presumed, which he still had trouble accepting as real. Still, if he put that concern aside, it was a pretty standard scientific crew, he supposed.
“Sorry, I’m late. Getting the squad to bunks.”
Aston turned at the voice, a strong Boston accent. The man who entered was African-American, a beast of a guy, well over six feet tall, muscles stretching his arctic camo outfit, bald head shining under the fluorescent lights. Clearly ex-military of some sort. He had a pistol holstered at his hip.
Sol smiled. “Just in time, Terry.” He raised a hand to introduce the man to the rest of the team already seated. “Ladies and gents, this is Terence Reid, head of security both here at the base and for the expedition in general.
“Good to meet you all,” Terry said. “No need to introduce yourselves, I know you all from your files.”
His grin was wide and friendly, but Aston thought it slightly disturbing the man had files on them all. He supposed some standard procedure was at play there, but he found it discomforting nonetheless. He watched Slater down the length of the table. She scrutinized Reid for several seconds, then looked at Aston. He raised an eyebrow, but she winced, seemingly annoyed that he’d seen her look his way. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to Sol.
Sol Griffin fired up a screen, but it remained blank as he addressed the gathering. “Well, you’ve all signed your NDAs, so now you get the full story. Any guesses?”
Aston wasn’t surprised when Jeff spoke up beside him. “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. I doubt it’s just new energy sources. Especially given the team here. So here are some ideas.” He glanced around the table, oblivious to the frowns and impatient stares. They would all rather Sol got on with it, but it seemed Jeff was determined to answer the man’s obviously rhetorical question. “So much weird and unexplainable stuff has been found down here,” Jeff went on. “The blood falls, you heard about that one? From a lake under the ice that won’t freeze, but leaks blood red water out into the sea. Or the Antarctic py
ramids, that are supposedly just mountains, but they’re so regular, I find that hard to believe. A lot of people are thinking aliens, or Atlantis, or Russian space experiments. For that matter, we know there was once a secret Nazi base here.”
Aston winced at the mention of Nazis, remembering the disturbing cave under Lake Kaarme. Then again, it had saved their bacon more than once. “Just let Sol talk, Jeff,” he said.
“What? You don’t think that stuff is fascinating?”
Aston sighed. “I’m a marine biologist, Jeff. I know the science of this stuff, not the nonsense. The blood falls, for example. It’s not weird and unexplained at all, some people just like to pretend it is. It’s actually the outflow of an iron oxide-tainted plume of saltwater. You know what that is? Iron-rich, hypersaline water intermittently emerges from small fissures in the ice from a subglacial pool under about 1,300 feet of ice. It was discovered over a hundred years ago, by an Australian geologist, as it happens. We’re good at discovering stuff. His name was Griffith Taylor, and the valley still bears his name. He thought it was caused by red algae, but it was later proven to be due to iron oxides. Science!” His hard stare dared Jeff to challenge him.
The cameraman shifted uncomfortably, clearly annoyed at being schooled in front of everyone. “What about the other stuff?”
“Equally bullshit, Jeff! I don’t have time to debunk every conspiracy theory you’ve ever read about. That’s the trouble with bullshit. You ever heard of Brandolini’s Law? It states the simple truth that the amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than to produce it. Which is why it’s so hard to make people see truth when the nonsense is so easy. You need more critical thinking, mate.”
Sol laughed. “Well, enthusiasm is good. But let’s not get carried away. I’ll begin with some history. In the early twentieth century, an expedition set out in this region. Two men got lost, separated from their fellows in a sudden blizzard, and found their way into an underground cavern. Only one survived, but what he saw down there was remarkable.” Sol passed out manila folders, one to each team member. Inside was a text summary followed by lots of color photos. “Read the details later, but for now just have a look at the pictures,” Sol said.
The shots showed a massive cavern, an underground lake, lots of odd, glowing fungi, strange rock formations.
While the team thumbed through their folders, Sol set a slideshow going on the screen of the same photos. “There’s a lot of underground volcanic activity in the area,” he said. “Geothermal vents, rising spring water, stuff like that. It creates a warm, comfortable environment down below, which gets warmer the deeper you go. We’re not looking for uranium or anything like that, but an element previously unknown to humankind.”
Aston looked up. “Wait. For one, where is this place you’re talking about? And how do you know about it now if it’s previously unknown?”
“Remember the old expedition I mentioned? Well, the explorer who escaped had a chunk of it on him. It was lost to science for decades, but SynGreene recently acquired it. Its properties are amazing and our top scientists are convinced it can be a powerful new source of clean energy.”
“Does this stuff have a name?” Syed asked.
Sol gave her an apologetic smile. “Not officially, but SynGreen refers to is as greenium.”
“Are you serious?” Syed asked, eyes wide.
Mirth rippled around the table and Sol shrugged. “I’m afraid so. It’s a kind of working title, because its properties are still being explored. But Arthur Greene of SynGreene is no stranger to celebrating himself in his work.”
“Quite the case of nominative determinism,” Aston said.
“Indeed.”
“You didn’t answer the other question,” Aston said. “Where is this place?”
Sol pointed at his feet. “We’re right on top of it. Well, not quite.” He gestured to the windows. “It’s about a hundred yards that way and extends away from the base.”
“Under the mountains?” Digby O’Donnell asked.
“I guess so. That direction, certainly.”
Dig nodded, smiling.
“So where does this team fit in?” Slater asked. “If you’ve got a sample and you’ve found the location, what are we for?”
Sol grinned. “Good question. We’ll need a complete survey first. Flora, fauna, geology, anything that needs to be studied and preserved or protected. We have to put together all kinds of dossiers for all kinds of government agencies. And we’re thinking the whole thing needs to be documented well anyway, because if we have discovered a new energy source here, your documentary on its emergence will be invaluable in educating the world. That’s why you, specifically, are here.”
Slater’s eyes narrowed, but she said no more.
“What if we find something?” Jahara Syed asked. Aston was glad the biologist had raised the question, because it had been his first thought, too. He had a feeling SynGreene had invested too much money already to let an environmental protection order get in their way.
Sol raised his palms. “Who knows what we’ll find. But make no mistake, we will extract the resources one way or the other. We simply want...”
“Deniability,” Aston said, anger beginning to boil low in his gut.
“We want to be able to demonstrate that we made every effort to do things the right way,” Sol finished.
Slater laughed. “Still sounds like we’re to be your cover story.”
“If you wish to see it that way, but I assure you, we intend to do the right thing here. By everyone. It is possible, if we’re all honest and diligent.” Sol’s face remained friendly and open, as it always seemed to be, but his eyes had hardened. Aston didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him.
“Some of us don’t seem to have skills that fit the purpose of your expedition,” Aston said.
Sol hesitated for a fraction of a second before he spoke. Aston wondered if anyone else had noticed it. “Let’s just say we want to be prepared for any contingency,” Sol said.
4
Slater woke the next morning and looked about the stark, white room she had been assigned. It was comfortable and functional, but no more than that. She couldn’t complain. It was actually refreshing in its own way. Immediately her thoughts returned to Sam Aston. Rage still boiled in her gut that he had let her think he was dead for all that time. But despite her hurt and fury, a great relief lurked somewhere under the surface. She had enjoyed the time they spent together, despite the horrors. And of course, they had shared the experience of those horrors, so perhaps Aston was the only person in the world she could ever talk to about that stuff. Maybe the relief lived there, in the knowledge there was someone still alive who got it, who believed her because he’d been there too. And then the rage came again. He was the only one who could have made any of it easier for her, and he’d hidden for months, like some cowardly whipped dog, refusing to come out from under the house.
Was she being unfair to him? She made a noise of disgust. Screw him! He’d left her to suffer. Maybe he had his reasons, but she didn’t care. Perhaps one day the relief that he lived would take over the anger at his hiding, but she didn’t think it would be any time soon. In some ways it felt petty to ensure he suffered before she even thought about forgiving him, but that was exactly what she intended to do.
“Asshole,” she muttered to herself, and went into the cramped en-suite to shower.
When she headed into the canteen half an hour later, the entire team was present. She winced at Jeff Gray funneling scrambled eggs into his face like a factory machine, half of it already down his sweater. Aston caught her eye, started to smile. That twisted combination of anger and relief flooded through her again and she looked away.
Once she had eaten and gulped down two mugs of coffee, she began to feel a little more balanced. The coffee, she noticed, was pretty good, so that was something positive about this whole debacle of an expedition.
Sol Griffin stood and c
alled out for their attention. “We’re heading down this morning, so get wrapped up for the short trip to the elevator, but you won’t need to overdo it. A jacket and regular clothing will be fine once we go down. Be sure to bring all the gear you want with you, as it’s a long ride back if you forget anything. Our first foray will be relatively brief, though.”
Wrapped in parkas and lugging gear, the team soon found themselves crunching over fresh snowfall from the warm comforts of the base. Despite the bright sunshine, the impact of the cold on Slater’s face made her catch her breath as they stepped out. The landscape was awe-inspiring, undulating white, occasional ridges of gray stone, then the huge peaks of the mountains rising over them, almost close enough to touch. The morning sun struck the north faces of the strangely geometric range, making bright white and dark shadow stand out in stark contrast. Sol led them about fifty yards from the main base building, past two large garages and a stack of oil barrels, to a fenced off area with a bright yellow sign above the gate. The sign read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and an armed guard stood by the gate, his breath clouding in the cold air.
“Good morning,” Sol said.
“Sir.” The guard opened the gate and stepped aside to let them through. Beyond was a metal hut about five yards square and inside what looked like a huge freight elevator.
Slater was reminded of the elevator in the movie Aliens, where Ripley, flamethrower in hand, descends to save Newt while the entire complex explodes and falls down around her. While the elevator looked just like that, Slater hoped she would never be using it under anything like those circumstances.
Come on, she told herself. We’re here for a damned rock of some kind. Calm down. But memories of Lake Kaarme and how that job had gone still regularly gave her nightmares. She would wake in terror, images of deep underwater caverns and that huge maw full of teeth snapping at her, fresh in her mind. She drew a deep breath and steeled herself. This place couldn’t be more different.
