Michael Crichton - State Of Fear

"Anything with an antenna."

"Okay." She turned and went outside again.

Evans was still going through the cartons. He opened three, then a fourth. They all contained the same black cones. "I don't get it."

Kenner took one cone, turned it to the light. In raised lettering it said: "Unit PTBC-XX-904/8776-AW203 US DOD."

Evans said, "These are military?"

"Correct," Kenner said.

"But what are they?"

"They're the protective containers for coned PTBs."

"PTBs?"

"Precision-timed blasts. They're explosives detonated with millisecond timing by computer in order to induce resonant effects. The individual blasts are not particularly destructive, but the timing sets up standing waves in the surrounding material. That's where the destructive power comes fromthe standing wave."

"What's a standing wave?" Evans said.

"You ever watch girls play jump rope? Yes? Well, if instead of spinning the rope, they shake it up and down, they generate loopy waves that travel along the length of the rope, back and forth."

"Okay amp;"

"But if the girls shake it just right, the waves appear to stop moving back and forth. The rope takes on a single curved shape and holds it. You've seen that? Well, that's a standing wave. It reflects back and forth in perfect synchronization so it doesn't seem to move."

"And these explosives do that?"

"Yes. In nature, standing waves are incredibly powerful. They can shake a suspension bridge to pieces. They can shatter a skyscraper. The most destructive effects of earthquakes are caused by standing waves generated in the crust."

"So Brewster's got these explosives amp;set in a row amp;for a hundred miles? Isn't that what Bolden said? A hundred miles?"

"Right. And I think there's no question what he intends. Our friend Brewster is hoping to fracture the ice for a hundred miles, and break off the biggest iceberg in the history of the planet."

Sarah stuck her head in.

Kenner said, "Did you find a computer?"

"No," she said. "There's nothing there. Nothing at all. No sleeping bag, no food, no personal effects. Nothing but a bare tent. The guy's gone."

Kenner swore. "All right," he said. "Now, listen carefully. Here's what we are going to do."

"Oh no," Jimmy Bolden said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow that, Dr. Kenner. It's too dangerous."

"Why is it dangerous?" Kenner said. "You take these two back to the station, and I'll follow Brewster's snowtracks until I meet up with him."

"No, sir, we all stay together, sir."

"Jimmy," Kenner said firmly, "we're not going to do that."

"With all due respect, sir, you don't know your way around this part of the world amp;"

"You forget, I am an IADG inspector," Kenner said. "I was resident in Vostok Station for six months in the winter of '99. And I was resident in Morval for three months in '91. I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Gee, I don't know amp;"

"Call back to Weddell. The station chief will confirm it."

"Well, sir, if you put it that way amp;"

"I do," Kenner said firmly. "Now get these two people back to base. Time is wasting."

"Okay, if you'll be all right amp;" Bolden turned to Evans and Sarah. "Then I guess we go. Mount up, folks, and we'll head out."

Within minutes, Evans and Sarah were jouncing along on the ice, following behind Bolden's snowtrack. Behind them, Kenner was driving parallel to the line of flags, heading east. Evans looked back just in time to see Kenner stop, get out, check one of the flags briefly, then get back in again and drive on.

Bolden saw it, too. "What is he doing?" he said in an anxious tone.

"Just looking at the unit, I guess."

"He shouldn't be getting out of his vehicle," Bolden said. "And he shouldn't be alone on the shelf. It's against regulations."

Sarah had the feeling Bolden was about to turn back. She said, "I can tell you something about Dr. Kenner, Jimmy."

"What's that?"

"You don't want to make him mad."

"Really?"

"No, Jimmy. You don't."

"Well amp;okay then."

They drove on, climbing a long rise, descending on the other side. Brewster's camp was gone, and so was Kenner's snowtrack. Ahead lay the vast white field of the Ross Ice Shelf, stretching away to the gray horizon.

"Two hours, folks," Bolden said. "And then a hot shower."

The first hour passed uneventfully. Evans started to fall asleep, only to be jolted awake by the sharp movements of the vehicle. Then he would drift off again, his head nodding until the next shock.

Sarah was driving. He said to her, "Aren't you tired?"

"No, not at all," she said.

The sun was now low on the horizon, and obscured by fog. The landscape was shades of pale gray, with almost no separation between land and sky. Evans yawned. "Want me to take over?"

"I've got it, thanks."

"I'm a good driver."

"I know you are."

He was thinking she had a definite bossy side, despite her charm and her beauty. She was the kind of woman who would want to control the remote.

"I bet you want the remote," he said.

"You think so?" She smiled.

It was irritating in a certain way, he thought, that she did not take him seriously as a man. At least, not as a man she could be interested in. In truth, she was a little too cool for his taste. A little too ice blond. A little too controlled, beneath that beautiful exterior.

The radio clicked. Bolden said, "I don't like this weather coming in. We better take a shortcut."

"What shortcut?"

"It's only half a mile, but it'll save twenty minutes on our time. Follow me." He turned his snowtrack left, leaving the packed snow road, and heading off onto the ice fields.

"Okay," Sarah said. "Right behind you."

"Good work," Bolden said. "We're still an hour from Weddell. I know this route, it's a piece of cake. Just stay directly behind me. Not to the left or right, but directly behind, you understand?"

"Got it," Sarah said.

"Good."

In a matter of minutes, they had moved several hundred yards from the road. The ice there was bare and hard, the treads of the snowtracks scratching and squeaking as they crossed it.

"You're on ice now," Bolden said.

"I noticed."

"Won't be long now."

Evans was looking out the window. He could no longer see the road. In fact, he wasn't sure anymore in which direction it lay. Everything now looked the same. He felt anxious suddenly. "We're really in the middle of nowhere."

The snowtrack slid laterally a little, across the ice. He grabbed for the dashboard. Sarah immediately brought the vehicle back under control.

"Jeez," Evans said, clinging to the dashboard.

"Are you a nervous passenger?" she said.

"Maybe a little."

"Too bad we can't get some music. Is there any way to get music?" she asked Bolden.

"You should," Bolden said. "Weddell broadcasts twenty-four hours. Just a minute." He stopped his snowtrack, and walked back to their stopped vehicle. He climbed up on the tread and opened the door, in a blast of freezing air. "Sometimes you get interference from this," he said, and unclipped the transponder from the dash. "Okay. Try your radio now."

Sarah fiddled with the receiver, twisting the knob. Bolden walked back to his red cab, carrying the transponder. His diesel engine spit a cloud of black exhaust as he put the snowtrack in gear.

"You think they'd be a little more ecologically minded," Evans said, looking at the exhaust as Bolden's snowtrack chugged forward.

"I'm not getting any music," Sarah said.

"Never mind," Evans said. "I don't care that much."

They drove another hundred yards. Then Bolden stopped again.

"Now what?" Evans said.