Jeremy Robinson - SecondWorld

“Watch our backs,” Miller said to Brodeur, then headed down the road. Twenty feet from the surface he found a large metal switch he suspected would open and close the hatch, but let it be. He wanted the hatch open for the same reason he left Hammaker behind with the helicopter.

The tunnel, which had been cut through solid stone, made a sharp right turn one hundred feet down. Miller slid his head around the corner, ready for a fight, but instead found something amazing.

The road continued down in a series of switchbacks, but it was no longer encased in stone. The road led down the side of a massive gorge, perhaps five hundred feet deep and half as wide. Huge steel beams cut across the top of the gorge, supporting a wire mesh. Ice and snow, which glowed white from the lingering sun, covered the mesh, making the gorge impossible to see from above.

As Miller stepped out of the tunnel and into the gorge, the temperature shift struck him. His thermal winter gear, rated for negative fifteen degrees, suddenly stifled him. He peeled off his white mask, which no longer provided camouflage, and took a breath. The air was humid and smelled of wet earth, and… flowers? The roar of flowing water reached his ears as he crept toward the edge of the road and looked down.

“My God,” he said. The giant crevice stretched for half a mile in either direction. Far to the right, a waterfall emptied, perhaps carrying fresh glacial meltwater. The waterfall ended in a large pool that became a fast-moving river. The water cut through the center of the valley, billows of steam rising from its surface. And lining the shores— son of a bitch —were leafy green plants. Patches of mushrooms grew near the walls. Green algae coated most stones, and the gorge walls fifteen feet up. The gorge was like a tropical oasis, except instead of being in the desert, it was beneath Antarctica.

“Wow,” Adler said as she slid up next to Miller.

Vesely crouched at the edge of the road, balancing on his hands. He pulled his mask off and revealed a huge grin. “The Antarctica Shangri-La. Is real.”

Brodeur said nothing. He removed his mask and looked out at the valley. “I think we should move.”

Miller stepped back from the edge, realizing that the beauty of the place had distracted him and endangered them all. “Lose the suits.”

The four shed their white outer gear, revealing the black BDUs beneath. Feeling less conspicuous and much cooler, Miller led the team down the switchback road. He hugged the walls all the way down, looking for trouble, but only seeing paradise. He stopped at the bottom. A bridge led across the steaming water, which he could now see bubbled with heat.

Vesely stopped next to him and pointed to the water. “Geothermal vents. Whole river is heated.”

“That’s great,” Miller answered, “but I’m more interested in what’s on the other side of the river.” A massive door, like an oversized bank vault, had been built into the wall of the gorge—locked tight.

A modern-looking keypad was attached at the side of the vault door. There was no way to figure out the combination, so Miller dug into his supply belt and took out some small bricks of C4. The vault door looked tough, but he wasn’t going to blow the door. He was going to blow the stone around it.

While Miller assembled the charges, Brodeur walked up to the keypad.

“You’re not going to get it open,” Vesely said. “Not without code.”

Brodeur ignored him and kept fiddling. No one bothered watching as Miller handed each of them an armed explosive charge to hold while he rigged more.

A sharp beep spun them around toward Brodeur.

The vault door slid open silently. Brodeur stepped aside, revealing the now pried-open keypad. “Standard code lock. FBI trains on them. Piece of cake.”

“I’m impressed,” Vesely said. “FBI is more competent than I believed.”

“Glad you approve,” Brodeur said sarcastically.

Miller quickly switched off the detonators and plucked them from the C4. With everything back in his supply belt, he crossed the bridge and stood in the open door. A tunnel, lit by hanging bulbs, led deep into the stone, no end in sight. No guards, either.

Miller led the team in, feeling like he’d entered the throat of a giant who might swallow him whole. But he had no choice. Answers waited in the darkness.

Though he suspected more than answers lurked beyond, Miller began to jog. Then ran. He reached the end of the tunnel a minute later and stopped. He heard the footfalls of his team approaching from behind, but when he looked at the open space around him a bomb could have detonated and he wouldn’t have heard it.

A cavern bigger than Miller thought possible opened up before him. Hanging stalactites meant the cavern was at least partly natural. But the walls and floor had been smoothed. And a grid of metal poles held a maze of beams from which hung an endless sea of grated lamps.

While much of the floor was smooth matte stone, shiny walkways had been buffed into the floor. The path Miller now stood on ran toward the center of the space where it split and wrapped around an octagonal control center lined with modern computers. Miller noticed that while the lights were on, there wasn’t a soul in sight. He headed for the command center.

“I think we’re alone,” Miller said to the others, keeping his voice quiet. “But stay ready for anyth—”

A distant high-pitched whir filled the air. It reminded Miller of the remote-controlled car he had as a kid. So he wasn’t surprised when the small, modern-looking vehicle rolled into view. To Miller it looked like a land mine on wheels, but sleek and modern.

The device spun around, stopping when a small red LED light faced their direction. Miller got the distinct feeling that the device was looking at them.

“Looks like Roomba,” Vesely said.

And he was right. The device did resemble the robotic maid, but Miller didn’t think it was left behind to keep the floor looking good, clean as it may be. He tensed when the device approached. When it closed to within twenty-five feet, Miller raised his weapon.

Brodeur shoved the weapon down. “Might be explosive!”

Miller held his fire. Brodeur was right.

Miller scanned the area. One hundred feet to the left of the walkway was what looked like an empty hangar bay. Large metal frames, now empty, lined the walls. An assembly line, like that of a car factory, complete with robotic arms, stretched down the center of the hangar. This massive fabrication plant had been operating for seventy years, employing scientists recruited from America, financed by American dollars, and hidden by American politicians and military personnel.

Miller turned to the right and found a tall, metal, capsule-shaped object. Its smooth surface appeared to be copper, or lead, and had a sheen like brushed metal. A vertical seam, framed by strips of silver, ran around the outer edge, disappearing around the top and bottom. Its metal base was bolted to the floor. Next to it stood another. And another. There might be a hundred of the things. The rows of metal cylinders looked like giant capacitors arranged on a circuit board.

Miller was about to order the group into the maze of cylinders when the red light atop the Roomba-thing began blinking. Not good . The round device was composed of two sections. Wheels could be seen at the fringe of the outer ring, so Miller assumed it also held the engine and whatever else it needed to function. But the disk at the center could be anything. When it began to spin, Miller assumed the worst. “Get down!”

Miller, Vesely, and Adler dropped to the floor. Brodeur dove toward the cylinders, which he was closest to.

The spinning disk sprang into the air. There was a sound like a thousand puffs of air, which was immediately followed by the ticking of metal balls bouncing off the wall and rolling over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos, Brodeur shouted in pain. The center disk fell to the floor next to Miller, spinning like a flicked coin. He slapped his hand down on it, silencing the thing.