Breakthrough (15 page)

Another trace of amusement curled the side of Palin’s mouth.  “None.”

“No nationality,” Clay repeated.  He thought a moment.  “How many people are in this settlement of yours?”

“Twelve hundred.”

Clay shot Keister another glance.  “Twelve hundred.  That does not sound like a large settlement.”

“It is not,
” Palin replied.  After some hesitancy, he added, “That is all that is left.”

Clay frowned in confusion.  “What do you mean ‘all that is left’?” 

Palin inhaled deeply.  He appeared conflicted over what he was sharing, and Clay wondered why he was choosing to reveal this information at all.  He didn’t think it was fear.  Palin had to know that they were not about to harm him.

Palin spoke carefully.  “We are all that remains of a very old group.”

“What group is that?” asked Clay.  “Do you mean a lineage?”  Clay suddenly thought how bizarre this was beginning to sound. 

“We are an old group but have not been here very long.”

These answers were becoming increasingly cryptic.  Clay sat watching Palin.  After several moments, Keister looked over to see if he was going to continue.  Clay abruptly asked “what is the ring for?”

Palin breathed in again.  “It is a very large doorway.”

“Another doorway,” Clay mused.  “And where does this very large door go?  What is on the other side?”

“Home.”

“Where is home?”

Palin hesitated but gave in.  “A nearby planet.”

Clay could not believe what he was hearing.  If this were true an awful lot of science theory was about to become science fact.  “Your home is a nearby planet?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“But you are human,” Clay said, pointing out the contradiction.  Clearly he could not be human if he were from another planet.  He remembered Wong pointing out on the video call that the odds of an extraterrestrial evolving into the same human form were effectively zero.

“I am human.”

Clay frowned.  “I have it on good authority that humans are exclusive to Earth,” he said with a touch of sarcasm.

Palin’s smirk
returned.  “And who’s authority would that be?”

An expert
, Clay thought. 
Actually a supposed expert that I met less than twenty-four hours ago on a giant monitor
.  He decided against a debate.

“How long have you been here?”

“Sixty years.”

“Sixty years? 
And doing what?”

Palin did not respond.

Clay made a mental note to relax and leaned back slightly.  “So you are human but from a different planet?”

Palin nodded. 

Keister spoke up.  “How can you be human
and
an alien?”

Palin looked at Keister, almost politely, but slowly turned back to Clay.  “There is more to evolution than you have yet learned, especially that which is carbon based.”

Clay leaned forward again.  “Are you saying that the human form is a common result of evolution?”

“Carbon based evolution,
” Palin corrected.

“So,” K
eister said, “planets with carbon life eventually develop human beings?”

Palin looked curiously at Keister.  He nodded his head.  “Carbon DNA
contain characteristics that affect common, but not precise, evolutionary outcomes; generally things like four limbs, two eyes, internal respiratory systems, five senses, and in some cases larger brains.  Survivability is always the priority.”  Palin looked back to Clay.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“We are visiting.”

Clay smiled on the inside.  He was certain that Palin had just lied to him.  “Visiting for what exactly?”

Palin gave an almost imperceptible shrug.  The most he could manage with his hands bound Clay suspected.  “We are observers.”  Palin’s tone seemed to shorten.

“What was your man doing on our ship?” Keister asked.

Palin gave Keister an expressionless answer.  “Observing.”

Clay was watching Palin closely.  They were losing him. 
He was going to have to be more direct.  “What is the ring for?”

“It is how we came here.”

Clay nodded.  “It’s awfully big.”  Again Palin remained quiet.  His body language, at least what Clay could detect, was changing.  He was quickly becoming uncomfortable.  He locked his eyes on Palin’s.  “It looks large enough to bring something else through, something very big.”

Palin stared at Clay.  After a long silence, he suddenly pushed his chair back signaling that he was done with the conversation.

25

Kathryn Lokke sat in the C130 airplane bundled tightly in her thick parka.  Her hood was raised up barely fitting over
the bulky headphones which allowed her to talk to the flight crew.  A quick shiver ran down from her shoulders and she counted back the years since she had been in this kind of weather and temperature.  Peering down through the side window, she watched the white surface of Antarctica speed beneath them as the plane headed for the main base at McMurdo.

The plane slowly pitched forward as the pilots began their descent.  As the plane sank closer to the ground, Kathryn could see four giant supply tanks on the far end of the base, beyond the hundred or so buildings surrounding the three airfields.  In the far distance she could make out the distant harbor with two giant supply ships motionless in the dark grey water.  Even further still was a thin line extending into the distance, the McMurdo road to the South Pole.

The plane came in low over the white runway and gently touched down.  Kathryn, and the thirty-four researchers behind her, sat forward and began gathering their things.  The plane taxied off the runway and stopped in front of a small terminal building.  Bags were grabbed and the passengers shuffled out and down the stairs.  Several large vans were waiting to receive them and everyone scattered to the nearest vehicle, throwing their bag up into the roof rack and quickly jumping inside the heated interiors.

Once loaded, all of the vehicles headed out in a single file line, driving half a mile to a giant nondescript hanger.  A large door opened as they approached, and all seven vehicles drove inside and parked.  The door was quickly closed behind them.

Kathryn climbed out of the lead van and stepped down onto the building’s smooth concrete floor.

“Ms. Lokke?” asked a man approaching from the center of the hangar.  His accent was distinctly New Zealand.  “I’m Steven Anderson,” he said extending his hand.

Kathryn slipped off her glove and shook it.  “Hi Steven, we
meet at last,” she replied with a smile.  “Thanks for all your team’s help on this.”

“Ah our pleasure,
” Anderson nodded.  “That ice quake scared the daylights out of us too.  Besides,” he turned his head motioning behind him, “it’s nice to have the company.”

She turned and waved her staff
over.

“Well, the good news,” Anderson said, “is that you’ve got the best weather possible.  Should have clear skies for the next six or seven days.  Probably get all the way up to minus 5 or 6 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“What a relief,” moaned Jason Haines, walking up behind Kathryn.  Jason was one of the newest and youngest geologists to join the USGS.  He had been there just thirteen months, yet was one of the first to volunteer for the trip.

She introduced the two and waited for the others.  His team had assembled the two dozen snow mobiles and arranged for the transport planes that would drop the researchers
, and all of their supplies, off at the Ronne Ice Shelf.  Anderson’s team would act as their guides. 

   Anderson went over the plan explaining how Kathryn and her team would split up into ten groups and try to cover the length of the giant
slide in five days, getting as much information as possible.  At the end of the five days, they would have exact measurements on the extent of the slide, strata samplings for subsurface composition and density, any signs of lateral slide, and a host of other pieces of data.   If all went well, it would arm Kathryn with enough hard data to show the White House just how dangerous this situation was.

Jason Haines, still standing next to Kathryn, raised his hand wi
th a question.  Anderson nodded and Haines spoke up.  “How often are we to be in contact?” 

Anderson spoke up to make sure he was heard by everyone.  “Communication will be constant.”  He motioned to several of his team members standing behind him.  “As you know, each team of three will be accompanied by a guide.  My men know the area well and are as comfortable in these conditions as anyone can be, if you want to call it
comfortable
.”  Anderson’s accent projected a friendly tone, but he and all of the men had a hardened look that was all business.  “A small supply outpost will be located on the shelf in a central location.  Your guides will be talking to them every fifteen minutes with coordinates and a team status.  It does not take long out here to freeze to death, so
do not
get lost.  If any team is not heard from for more than twenty minutes, a reconnaissance crew will be dispatched immediately, and they will begin trying to reestablish contact while in transit.”  Anderson paused for just a moment to make sure everyone was listening.  He reminded Kathryn of a sergeant explaining a detailed exercise to his unit.  “As soon as they reestablish contact they will turn around and head back to the outpost.  If they do not reestablish contact, they will be to you within 30 minutes.  If you see us coming across the ice stop and wave your arms as high as you can.  It can be very hard to see, even with a very small amount of haze.”  He looked over the small group.  “Next question?”

Another of Kathryn’s team raised their hand, a woman named
Ruppa Tadri, one of her best seismologists.  She looked around shyly.  “What if we need some…
privacy
?” 

Anderson smiled.  “This is the Antarctic.  If you get lost and fall down a hole you may be dead before we find the hole.  Believe me, you
do not
want privacy!”  A nervous laugh ran through the group.  “Don’t be shy, ladies and gentlemen, you may feel a little embarrassed at first, but it is far more important that we can see you at all times.”  He paused again before continuing.  “The good news is that we have excellent weather this week.  If the wind is calm we will provide a small round tent for anyone feeling particularly self-conscious.  And let me answer what is likely your next question, dig a deep hole and bury it.  You can use this.”  Anderson held up a small mountain climbing pick.  “You will all have one of these and we will give you some basic instructions.  I guarantee you will find this to be your best friend during your time on the shelf.”  Anderson smiled again.  “Next question?”

After another twenty minutes of questions and answers, Anderson led the team out the side of the hanger to another building a couple hundred yards away.  The mess hall was anything but a mess hall.  The dining area was over twenty thousand square feet and held dozens of comfortable chairs and tables.  On the far side of the room was a large viewing area with four satellite televisions surrounded by almost as many couches.  Half of the room was a giant sun room decorated with many different kinds of plants from all over the world. 
If Kathryn’s team was surprised at the dining area, they were stunned by the meals that came out of the kitchen, including salads loaded with fresh greens and vegetables, all grown locally in one of the McMurdo’s large hydroponic gardens.  There was even fresh fruit from hydroponic citrus trees.  This was clearly the hub of the station.

Tadri
approached Kathryn with an empty plate.  She was on her way back to the kitchen for seconds.  “Kathryn, aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“Huh, oh right,
”  Kathryn replied absently.  She realized that she had been thinking so much about the next several days that she was still standing in the same place, holding her plate.

“Are you alright?”
Tadri asked.

“Oh…yes.  Thanks.  I’m just thinking about everything.”

Tadri smiled.  “Well try to take a break.  We have to be up at four a.m.”

She was right.  Kathryn had to find a way to stop obsessing.  They were barely going to get enough sleep as it was before an early morning breakfast and airlift.  The last thing she needed was to be up half the night before heading into one of the toughest weeks she would have in years.

She patted Tadri on the arm and followed her into the kitchen.

The next morning after a large breakfast, Kathryn’s team assembled and boarded three of the same C130 aircraft they had arrived on.  Each plane had been packed with three teams and their supplies.  The last plane, which Kathryn was on, held a fourth team.  Thirty minutes after boarding, the planes were airborne and headed for the ice shelf.  The team members huddled together for warmth next to their bags and supplies which sat in front of eight large snowmobiles. Through the window, the sun was slowly rising from the horizon where it remained during the night, low yet always in daylight during Antarctica’s summer months.

Kathryn looked around at the faces of her team.  She was surprised to see an edge on their faces that they did not have the day before.  Probably the acceptance that they were here now and there was no turning back. 
She felt a sense of pride that many of her researchers had volunteered to come when they heard the White House’s, or more specifically, the National Security Advisor Stevas’ response to her warning. 

After a long two hours, she felt the familiar dip of the plane’s nose signaling a descent.  The other two planes banked in opposite directions heading west and east to drop their teams further along the giant fissure.

   Kathryn’s plane landed with a hard thud on the ice shelf which was flatter than the area closer to the crack.  They came to a stop and the propellers slowed to an idling speed.   Anderson’s men threw open the door and rolled a ladder outward for the exiting team.  At the rear of the fuselage, they unlocked and opened a large custom door which allowed them to slide the snowmobiles out and down a steep ramp.  Next were the food, bags, and fuel which also slid down the ramp with a hard thud.  Kathryn’s guide was a large man named Andrew with light hair who, judging from his tattoos, appeared to be ex-military.  He jumped out and helped pull the equipment out.  Andrew gave a thumbs-up to the other crewmembers onboard and pulled the large sled of equipment toward one of the snowmobiles.  Kathryn, Tadri, and their third member Pierre climbed down the metal folding ladder.  Once their feet touched the ice, the ladder was quickly retracted back up into the open door behind them.  They ran to Andrew who had clipped the supplies to the back of one of the snowmobiles with a large metal clasp.

   Andrew climbed on and motioned to Kathryn who got on behind him.  Pierre and
Tadri climbed on the second snowmobile and both men started the engines.  As Andrew led them away, the doors on the plane were closed.  Less than a minute later the engines roared back to life, and the C130 began rolling forward. 

As they sped toward the edge of the ice shelf, Kathryn looked back over her shoulder at Pierre and
Tadri, and then at the plane in the distance which had just lifted back up into the air.  From the time it touched down, the entire drop-off had taken less than ten minutes.  She hoped the others would go as smoothly.