Steve Alten - Vostok

“The Big Bang.”

“Describe the event.”

My scalp tingled as I suddenly comprehended what I was being told. “The Big Bang was the sudden expansion of a singularity of inconceivable energy containing protons, neutrons, electrons — all ejected into the vacuum of space.”

Alien Joe nodded. “And now you know cause and effect. The event that shattered the vessel and expanded the physical universe also gave order to the upper dimensions so that the flow of energy might be veiled.”

“Why veil it?”

“Think of the upper dimensions as everlasting fulfillment and the physical universe as the arena where that fulfillment had to be earned. This is what the vessel desired.”

My mind was reeling. “Okay, so if the conscious energy is what we collectively refer to as God, what was the vessel?”

“The collective immortal soul in its unified state prior to the Big Bang.”

I closed my eyes, attempting to absorb everything I had just heard. “Well, then, organized religion sure screwed that creation story up. Chalk that one up to quantum physics.”

“The primer of existence is communicated to every physical species, including yours. Humans were given the information 3,409 Earth years ago.”

“Really? I’d love to see it. Is it buried somewhere?”

“The information was encoded into the Old Testament’s original Aramaic, transcribed on Mount Sinai to the entity Moses. Fourteen centuries later, the information was decoded and recorded in the text referred to as the Zohar.”

“So all those hokey Bible stories were just written as an excuse to encrypt the info contained in our owner’s manual? What are Adam and Eve supposed to represent?”

“Protons and electrons — the male and female aspect of the atom.”

“Nice. What about the creation of the world in six days?”

“Six days refers to the bundle of six dimensions. The only creation is the vessel of the unified soul. The physical world is not the real reality. The physical world is the lucid dream where fulfillment must be earned.”

I felt dizzy. “Why am I here?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Whoa, now hold on a minute, Alien Joe. You’ve made it a point to tell me that time has no bearing in the upper dimensions. If that’s true, and quantum physics seems to back that theory, then you not only know what happened in the past, you know what will happen in the future — my future. You knew I’d be exploring Lake Vostok, which means you purposely left this portal under the ice sheet for me to discover and access. I want to know why.”

Alien Joe rocked in his easy chair, his demeanor unaffected by my rants. “Your observations are correct. Time has no bearing in the upper worlds; therefore, this moment, and everything that follows, has already occurred numerous times before, all with varying results but similar outcomes. Do you know what a multiverse is, Zachary?”

“It’s a quantum term, referring to the choices we make in life. Each choice theoretically creates its own universe.”

“Correct. Now tell me why this spaceship is here.”

“It’s here because I am here. You knew I’d be here, which means you need me for something.”

“Correct. And that need begins after you survive Vostok.”

“Then I guess I’ll be on my way. The sooner I get out of this freezer, the sooner I see my family… and a good psychiatrist. Not that anyone would believe this. Hell, I don’t believe it.”

“Unfortunately, Zachary, you have yet to experience a multiverse where you survived.”

The blood rushed from my face. “What does that mean? Did I fall into another crevasse? Did another bear-dog get me? Give me a mulligan, Alien Joe, a do-over.”

“As I said, everything that follows has already occurred numerous times before, all with varying results but similar outcomes. In the end, you never made it out alive.”

I stood, unable to contain my anxiety. “Are you here to save me?”

“That is something only you can do.”

“All right, whoever or whatever you are, you must have a good reason for arranging this little rendez-vous. So tell me, Alien Joe, what’s your end game?”

The entity stopped rocking. “The end game, Zachary Wallace, is the survival of your species.”

My heart pounded with adrenaline as I moved through the ice tunnel, my eyes darting from the pulsating blue light ahead to the Geiger counter in my hand.

Just a quick look. One quick look and I’ll have enough information to theorize cause and effect. Then I’m up the rope and climbing out of the chasm, and we’re back in the sub and en route to the north basin. Up the ice sheet and I’m done. Done with Vostok, done with Antarctica and its insane cold. Then it’s home to Brandy and William .

Wary of the time, I started to jog, counting each ice-crunching stride to gauge the distance back to the rope.

Twenty-one… twenty-two… twenty-three…

It was a surreal feeling, the deepening blue light fading to indigo, reminding me of my descent into the Sargasso Sea three years ago, a dive that had ended badly.

Eighty-six… eighty-seven… eighty-eight…

The tunnel dead-ended ten paces ahead, the indigo glow originating from sapphire formations embedded in the volcanic rock. Using my climbing axe, I chipped loose some of the zinc-laden ore and examined it in my gloved palm.

Sphalerite. Just as I thought .

Angry at having wasted so much time and energy, I jogged the quarter of a mile back down the tunnel. By the time I reached the rope, I was light-headed and dizzy, the stench of the dead bear-dog by my feet nauseating me.

Don’t stop now. You can rest in the sub .

I don’t know why I moved just then. Perhaps it was my proximity to the animal’s mouth, perhaps divine intervention, but when the creature snapped at my right ankle it missed. By the time it had pulled itself up on its forelegs to pursue me, dragging its broken hip, I had the climbing axe in my hand.

Swinging the handle like a baseball bat, I sliced open the bear-dog’s throat, splattering blood across the far curved wall.

Wasting no time, I reached for the highest knot on the rope I could grab onto and fought my way up arm length by arm length, clenching my spiked boots around the nylon cord for some kind of leverage. My limbs were shaking by the time my head poked above the fractured ceiling into the crevasse’s frigid darkness.

Crawling out onto my belly, I rolled onto my back, panting as I adjusted the night-vision goggles over my tear-filled eyes. Snot froze on my upper lip as I gazed up at the steep chasm walls and the climb that awaited me.

How easy to just close my eyes and disappear.

Goodnight, moon. Goodnight, William…

No!

Grunting back to life, I forced myself onto my knees and crawled over to where the rope was anchored. I tugged repeatedly in an attempt to free the knot, only to grow frustrated.

Screw it, you don’t need it. Leave it for the next schmuck .

Regaining my feet, I removed the climbing axe from my backpack, squeezed myself between the chasm walls, and set my spiked boots, pushing my way up the parallel rockfaces.

Grunting, wheezing, leveraging myself up three feet at a time.

Keep your moaning to a minimum. If one bear-dog was out there, then there must be others .

I reached the summit more quickly than expected and listened before I climbed out.

Before me were my own snowprints, matched by those of the bear-dog. I followed them to the remains of the rope, then pulled myself up the incline through the waist-deep snow until I was again standing at the base of the mountain.