Matthew Reilly - Ice Station

Homes gave his young aide a crooked smile. "Until Europe can match us weapon-for-weapon, yes , they do need us. What frustrates France most about us is our defense technology. They can't match it. We're too far ahead of them. It infuriates them.

"And as long as we stay ahead of them, they know that they've got no option but to follow us. But" ?Holmes held up a finger?"once they get their hands on something new, once they develop something that tops our technology, then I think things may be different.

"This isn't 1966 anymore. Things have changed. The world has changed. If France walked out of NATO now, I think half of the other European nations in the organization would walk out with her?"

At that moment, the doors to the meeting room opened and the French delegation, led by Pierre Dufresne, came back into the room.

As the French delegates returned to their seats, Holmes leaned close to Munro. "What worries me most, though, is that the French may be closer to that new discovery than we think. Look at them today. They've recessed this meeting four times already. Four times. Do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"They're stalling the meeting. Drawing it out. You only stall like that when you're waiting for information. That's why they keep recessing?so they can talk with their intelligence people and get an update on whatever it is they're up to. And by the looks of things, whatever that is, it could be the difference between the continued existence of NATO and its complete destruction."

The sleek black head broke the surface without a sound. It was a sinister head, with two dark, lifeless eyes on either side of a glistening snub-nosed snout.

A few moments later, a second, identical head appeared next to the first, and the two animals curiously observed the activity taking place on E-deck.

The two killer whales in the pool of Wilkes Ice Station were rather small specimens, despite the fact that they each weighed close to five tons. From tip to tail they were each at least fifteen feet long.

Having evaluated and dismissed the activity taking place on the deck around them?where Lieutenant Schofield was busy getting a couple of divers suited up?the two killer whales began to circle the pool, gliding around the diving bell that sat half-submerged in the very center of the pool.

Their movements seemed odd, almost coordinated. As one killer would look one way, the other would look in the opposite direction. It was almost as if they were searching for something, searching for something in particular....

"They're looking for Wendy," Kirsty said, looking down at the two killers from the C-deck catwalk. Her voice was flat, cold?unusually harsh for a twelve-year-old girl.

It had been almost two hours since Schofield and his team had arrived at Wilkes, and now Schofield was down on E-deck, preparing to send two of his men down in the Douglas Mawson to find out what had happened to Austin and the others.

Fascinated, Kirsty had been watching him and the two divers from up on C-deck when she had seen the two killer whales surface. Beside her, stationed on C-deck to work the winch controls, were two of the Marines.

Kirsty liked these two. Unlike a couple of the older ones who had merely grunted when she had said hello, these two were young and friendly. One of them, Kirsty was happy to note, was a woman.

Lance Corporal Elizabeth Gant was compact, fit, and she held her MP-5 as though it were an extension of her right hand. Hidden beneath her helmet and her silver antiflash glasses was an intelligent and attractive twenty-six-year-old woman. Her call sign, "Fox," was a compliment bestowed upon her by her admiring male colleagues. Libby Gant looked down at the two killer whales as they glided slowly around the pool.

"They're looking for Wendy?" she asked, glancing at the little black fur seal on the catwalk beside her. Wendy backed nervously away from the edge of the catwalk, trying, it seemed, to avoid being seen by the two whales circling in the pool forty feet below.

"They don't like her very much," Kirsty said.

"Why not?"

"They're juveniles," Kirsty said. " Male juveniles. They don't like anybody. It's like they have something to prove? prove that they're bigger and stronger than the other animals. Typical boys . The killer whales around these parts mostly eat baby crabeaters, but these two saw Wendy swimming in the pool a few days ago and they've been coming by ever since."

"What's a crabeater?" Hollywood Todd asked from over by the winch controls.

"It's another kind of seal," Kirsty said. "A big, fat seal. Killers eat them in about three bites."

"They eat seals?' Hollywood said, genuinely surprised.

"Uh-huh," Kirsty said.

"Whoa." Having barely graduated high school, Hollywood couldn't exactly claim to possess a love for books or academia. School had been a hard time. He'd joined the Marines two weeks after graduating and thought it was the best decision he'd ever made.

He looked down at Kirsty, assessing her size and age. "How come you know all this stuff?"

Kirsty shrugged self-consciously. "I read a lot."

"Oh."

Beside Hollywood, Gant began to laugh softly.

"What're you laughing at?" Hollywood asked.

"You," Libby Gant said, smiling. "I was just thinking about how much you read."

Hollywood cocked his head. "I read."

"Sure you do."

"I do ."

"Comic books don't count, Hollywood."

"I don't just read comic books."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about your prized subscription to Playboy magazine."

Kirsty began to chuckle.

Hollywood noticed and frowned. "Ha-ha. Yeah, well, least I know I ain't gonna be no college professor, so I don't try to be somethin' I'm not." He raised his eyebrows at Gant. "What about you, Dorothy , you ever try to be somethin' you're not?"

Libby Gant lowered her glasses slightly, revealing sky blue eyes. She gave Hollywood a sad look. "Sticks and stones, Hollywood. Sticks and stones."

Gant replaced her glasses and turned back to look at the whales down in the pool.

Kirsty was confused. When she'd been introduced to Gant earlier, she'd been told that her real name was Libby and that her nickname was Fox. After a few moments, Kirsty asked innocently, "Why did he call you Dorothy?"

Gant didn't answer. She just kept looking down at the pool and shook her head.

Kirsty spun to face Hollywood. He gave her a cryptic smile and a shrug. "Everybody knows Dorothy liked the scarecrow better than the others."

He smiled as if that explained everything and went back about his work. Kirsty didn't get it.

Gant just leaned on the rail, watching the killer whales, determinedly ignoring Hollywood. The two killers were still scanning the station, looking for Wendy. For an instant one of them seemed to see Gant and stopped. It cocked its head to one side and just looked at her.

"It can see me from all the way down there?" Gant said, glancing at Kirsty. "I thought whales were supposed to have poor eyesight out of the water."

"For their size, killer whales have bigger eyes than most other whales," Kirsty said, "so their eyesight out of the water is better." She looked at Gant. "You know about them?"

" I read a lot," Gant said, casting a sideways glance at Hollywood, before turning back to face the killers.

The two killer whales continued to prowl slowly around the pool. Gliding through the still water, they seemed patient, calm. Content to bide their time until their prey appeared. Down on the pool deck Gant saw Schofield and the two Marine divers watching the killer whales as they ominously circled the pool.

"How do they get in here?" Gant said to Kirsty. "What do they do?swim in under the ice shelf?"