Beneath the Ice (8 page)

Good thing this is just
practice,
she said to herself as a feeling
of embarrassment rose in her. Feeling like a schoolgirl, she was
grateful that no one was around to see her blunder. She reset the
program.
I need to get Perry out of my
mind.

She reset the computer and wondered if she
would ever get it right. Instead of starting the program, she
pushed away from the simple desk, rose, and left her monastic
cubicle.

I wonder what Perry is
doing?

Gwen James stood to one side as Perry, Jack, and
several of the workmen struggled to erect the first of two tubular
aluminum towers. The tower stood ten feet tall, was triangular, and
held in place by four-foot lengths of rebar pounded deep into the
ice. She watched the men grunt, struggle, lift, and push until the
tower was exactly where they wanted it—a job made more difficult by
the clean suits they wore.

Perry was in the middle of it all. She had
assumed he would stand off shouting directions from a safe
location, but he was clearly a man more comfortable when his own
hands were involved in a task.

“I show level on this axis,” Gleason
said.

“The bubble’s in the middle here,” Jack
added.

“Let’s take a look,” Perry said, stepping
back.

“It looks like a gantry for some kinda
rocket,” Jack said.

“In a sense, it is,” Perry agreed. “Except
we’re going down and not up.” He took several deep breaths, bent
over, and placed his hands on his knees. “Growing old isn’t for
sissies.”

Gwen smiled. Perry was far from old and,
based on what she had seen over the last two hours, very fit.
“How’s the head?” she asked.

Some people never adjusted to high altitude.
For some, exertion at this altitude and temperature could be fatal.
It was one reason she was hanging around. As the camp paramedic,
she was responsible for everyone’s health—even that of the
sometimes exasperating Perry Sachs.

“Not bad,” he replied. “The pain is almost
gone, but this thin air makes me feel like I’ve just run a
marathon.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” Gwen
asked. “Men have this weird sense of bravado.”

“I think she just said you were weird,
Perry.” Jack flashed one of his famous smiles. Gwen could see that
the big man was sucking in air by the barrelful.

“She wouldn’t be the first,” Perry said.

“This is all very sweet,” Griffin said. He
had been standing a good distance away as if getting too close to
physical labor might tarnish him. “But I still don’t fully
understand. The tower is the support for the cryobot? It doesn’t
seem strong enough. More to the point, how do you plan to load that
thing on a vertical surface? It’s huge; it must weigh a ton.”

Gwen frowned at her brother. She loved him
dearly, but more days than not, he was a serious pain.

“It does weigh a ton,” Perry explained.
“Hairy is an amplification of a prototype. Sarah’s space-bound
version is much smaller, but we wanted big, and big requires
support. This tower is a secondary guide.”

“That doesn’t explain how you plan to lift
such a heavy and awkward device,” Griffin complained.

“That’s why the world needs engineers and
not just scientists,” Jack quipped. “We like heavy and awkward. It
makes life interesting.”

“If you don’t have an answer . . .” Griffin
prodded.

“We have more than an answer,” Perry said.
“Follow me.”

Gwen watched as Perry released his workers
for a well-earned break. They had worked in shifts day after day
and hand in hand with the Seabees to erect the Chamber, unload
equipment, and do work that Gwen’s degrees in biology had not
equipped her to understand.

“You were eyeing him, weren’t you?” The
voice came over the comm system in Gwen’s hooded suit. She turned
to see Sarah standing just behind her.

“How long have you been here?”

“Just a minute. Long enough to note where
your gaze was directed.”

Gwen returned her attention to the small
group of men as they gathered around a large, plastic-wrapped wood
crate. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“He’s a hunk and a half, isn’t he?”

“You mean Mr. Sachs?”

“Yes, I mean Perry. Don’t
feel bad, I can’t get him off my mind
either.”

Gwen started to object but remained silent.
Each protestation that came to mind rang hollow. She felt warmth
around her cheeks. “My brother has questions,” she said changing
the subject.

“Your brother always has questions,” Sarah
said. “Are they opening the tractor?”

“I don’t know. Griffin was asking about what
they were going to use to lift the cryobot.”

“Oh good,” Sarah said with obvious joy.
“I’ve only seen this on paper. Come on.” To Gwen’s surprise, Sarah
took her gloved hand and began to tow her in the direction of the
others. They arrived in time to see Perry, Jack, and Gleason prying
off the lid of the wood container.

“This was fabricated by the boys at CAT,”
Perry was saying.

“The company that makes the big tractors?”
Griffin inquired.

“Exactly. They’ve customized things for us
before. Our construction needs can be unique. We often rely on the
engineering prowess of others. The people at Caterpillar are
experts at blending heavy engines with heavy steel.”

“I’ll check the battery,”
Gleason said. Sarah watched him move
away.

Perry and Jack lowered the
sides of the container to reveal an
amorphous blob of plastic sheeting that formed a
translucent
cocoon. “Everything has been
sanitized,” Perry explained, “even the heavy equipment.”

Gwen estimated the covered object to be as
long as a car but not as high. She couldn’t see it clearly, but she
was sure she had never seen anything like it.

Perry began stripping away the sheeting and,
with Jack’s help, uncovered the mechanical beast.

“Where is Larimore when you need him?” Jack
asked.

“His Seabees are loading the plane for its
return trip,” Perry said. “Division of labor and all that.”

As the last sheet of plastic was removed,
folded, and set aside, Gwen saw a strange device. It was painted a
bright yellow and had a pair of two-foot wide tank treads. Unlike a
tank, it had no true top to it. Instead, it was low and flat with
its upper surface a scant thirty inches above the ice. Resting on
the mechanism lay a tower similar to the one just raised by Perry
and the others. Perry had a slight smile on his face. Gwen could
see the pride he felt for the device.

“Shall I?” Gleason asked.

“Absolutely. Let’s see what this thing can
do.” Perry stepped back as Gleason removed a box from its holder at
the back of the tractor.

Perry looked at Griffin then at Gwen.
Smiling, he asked, “Ever been to the Kennedy Space Center in
Florida?”

Both said they hadn’t.

“You should go,” Perry said. “There’s a lot
to see. When the space shuttle is moved from the V.A.B. to the
launch site, it is moved by a device like this, only much, much
larger.”

“V.A.B?” Gwen asked.

“Vehicle Assemble Building,” Sarah said
before Perry could reply. “The shuttle is moved to the launch site
in a vertical position on the Mobile Launcher Platform.”

“Right,” Perry said. “It’s
moved along a special road designed to hold the weight of the
shuttle and its transport vehicle. We’re mov
ing something much smaller, but we have to do it in a closed
environment with little overhead space.”

“What do you call this thing?” Griffin
wondered. He was frowning.

Jack answered. “After much
soul-searching we’ve dubbed it ‘the
Crane.’ ”

“Inventive,” Griffin said, shaking his
head.

“It has flair, doesn’t it?” Jack said. “We
could name it after you. How does the Griffin Grappler sound?”

“I think I’ll pass on that honor.” He turned
to leave.

“You don’t want to see how it works?” Perry
called after him.

“I’ll let you boys play with the toys; I’ve
got some real research to do.”

He strode away. Even through his face
shield, Gwen could see the exasperation on Perry’s face.

Chapter
6

Perry was
exhausted,
and his persistent headache was
tightening the vise on his brain again. His body protested each
movement. He was accustomed to physical labor. His father had made
him work various construction sites all through high school. He was
as happy driving a nail or operating heavy equipment as he was
sitting at a drafting board and, more recently, a computer. He
lived with the perpetual dissatisfaction that came with the sense
that he was missing something. When sitting in an air-conditioned
office, studying construction drawings for a large project, he felt
cheated that he could not be in the field making it happen. When he
was in the field doing hands-on work, he wondered if he couldn’t be
more use reworking plans. He was seldom bored.

Ninety minutes before,
Gleason had adroitly controlled the crane, moving it through the
large space defined by the Chamber
dome
until he felt sure enough to try a lift. Electronics was
Gleason’s
forte, and Perry let him have
full rein.

It was amazing to watch.
The flat vehicle scooted smoothly
along
the ice, its treads leaving tracks in its wake. Perry had
watched
Gleason raise and lower the mast
that would pick up Hairy and position it over the target area. The
crane was designed like a mobile derrick with a steel mast hinged
to the tractor base. The mast could be cantilevered over the front
end of the base. To keep
it from tipping
while under load, a pair of hydraulic outriggers extended from the
center structure. The outriggers had wide metal plates that served
as feet and spread the load over a wide area.

Perry knew every inch of
the design and the physics behind it, but he still stood in
amazement as the ten-foot-long mast bowed like a gentleman until it
was parallel with the ice-shrouded surface.
Gleason had extended the boom over Hairy then activated a set
of iron pinchers that wrapped around the cryobot as gently as
a
moth
er hugging
her child.

Perry and Jack crawled around on hands and
knees checking the boom’s grapples. Convinced the cryobot was not
in danger, Perry gave the thumbs-up to Gleason, who sent the
radio-control signal that would raise the boom. It rose at a
pedestrian speed, and Perry had to work to quiet his
impatience.

The sound of powerful electronic winches
pulling steel cable through tackle at the end of the mast filled
the dome. The dome’s concave surface amplified the sounds more than
Perry expected. The noise of it reverberated in his bones. He could
also feel the vibration in the ice. Five minutes later, Hairy was
vertical, its nose pointed down. Gleason then guided the tractor to
a spot opposite the fixed tower the men had raised earlier. It took
several tries, but Gleason positioned it perfectly.

A new noise caught Perry’s attention—a noise
he felt more than heard. The ice was vibrating in resonance to the
sound. Perry knew what it meant, and as if confirmation were
needed, Larimore’s voice came over the radio in Perry’s clean suit:
“If you want to say bye-bye to your babies, you better jump
to.”

Perry acknowledged the message and hustled
to the air lock, where he changed into his outdoor gear. Five
minutes later he jogged across the white surface to the aircraft
that awaited him. He ran up the back ramp and wished each man on
his crew a safe journey, thanking them for the sacrifices they had
made to make the project a success so far. He then exited and
watched with the rest of the team as the loadmaster raised the
ramp.

“Did any volunteer to stay?” Jack asked.

Perry laughed. “Not a one. They all looked
eager to get back to the home fires, snuggle with their wives, and
play with their kids.”

“You’re just trying to bring a tear to me
eye,” Jack said with a wink.

“And then there were eight,” Larimore said.
“Our number has been cut by more than half.”

“They did their jobs,” Perry said. “Your
Seabees broke a sweat even down here.”

“They’re good men,” Larimore said. “Every
last one of them.”

Perry watched the large plane taxi away and
then turn toward the wind. This had been part of the plan.
Resources had been allotted for the work crew, but only for a few
days, just long enough to set up the chamber, move cargo, help with
equipment, and unload the three aircraft that delivered crew and
freight. After that, the men weren’t needed; everything that
remained could be done by the remaining eight. Fewer people meant
fewer resources spent providing food and water and better use of
the shelter. It also meant increased security and preserved
secrecy.

Perry gave a brief wave even though the
aircraft was now too far away for anyone on board to see. Still,
the gesture made him feel better. He glanced at the seven others
around him. Even Griffin James had come out to say farewell. It was
a gesture borne not of civility but of shared understanding that
leaving was just as dangerous as arriving.

The roar of the engines filled the frigid
air and soon the plane was sprinting along the ice. Several long
moments later it lifted into the air, its nose pointed at the
cobalt sky.

“
How’s it feel to be the only military man this far south?”
Griffin
asked. “You have no underlings to
order about.”