Matthew Reilly - Ice Station

She swung her flashlight around and pointed it at the tunnel leading away from her.

And then she saw it

It looked like a door of some sort, made of heavy gray steel. It was set into the ice and was completely covered in frost and icicles. It looked like a door on a naval vessel or submarine?solid-looking, hinged on a sturdy metal bulk.

"Jesus Christ," she breathed.

Pete Cameron called the Post's office in Washington D.C. for the third time. He was sitting in Andrew Trent's living room.

At last, Alison picked up.

Cameron said, "Where have you been? I've been calling all afternoon."

"You're not gonna believe what I found," Alison said.

She recounted for him what she had found on the All States Libraries Database: how the references to latitude and longitude that Cameron had picked up at SETI referred to the location of an ice station in Antarctica?Wilkes Ice Station.

Cameron pulled out his original notes from his visit to SETI, looked at them as she spoke.

Then Alison told him about the academics who lived down at the ice station and the papers and books they had written. She also told him about the Library of Congress and the "Preliminary Survey" by C. M. Waitzkin.

"It was signed out to an O. Niemeyer in 1979," she said.

Cameron frowned. "Niemeyer? Otto Niemeyer? Wasn't he on the Joint Chiefs of Staff under Nixon?"

"Under Carter, too," Alison said.

Andrew Trent came into the living room. "Did someone say Niemeyer?"

"Yeah," Cameron said. "Otto Niemeyer. Know him?"

"Know of him," Trent said. "He was Air Force. Full colonel. Got on a plane in '79 and never came back."

"That's the one," Alison said over the phone. "Hey, who is that?"

"Andrew Wilcox," Cameron said, looking at Trent.

"Oh, hey, Andrew, nice to meet you," Alison said. "And yes, you're right. Niemeyer got on a silver Air Force Boeing 727 at Andrews Air Force Base on the night of 30 December 1979, heading for destination unknown . He never returned."

"Aren't there any records about where he went?" Pete asked.

"That's classified, baby," Alison said. "Classified. I was able to get a history on him, though. Niemeyer flew Phantoms in Vietnam. Got shot down over the Mekong Delta in '65. POW for a year. Both legs broken. Rescued in '66. Drove a desk at the Pentagon after that. Headed the USAF's Procurement Division for six years from '68 to '74. Appointed to the Joint Chiefs of Staff in 1972 by Nixon, continued there under Carter.

"Apparently, Niemeyer was a player on the stealth project in '77. He was on the Air Force selection committee that chose the B-2 stealth bomber, made by Northrop-Boeing. The official record, however, shows that Niemeyer voted for the loser in the tender, a consortium made up of General Aeronautics and a small electronics company from California called Entertech Ltd."

Pete Cameron said, "So why would he steal a preliminary land survey about some university research station in Antarctica?"

"See, that's the thing," Alison said. "I don't think it's the same station."

"What?"

Alison said, "Listen, I was looking in this book I bought by one of those Antarctic guys, a guy named Brian Hensleigh. According to him, Wilkes Ice Station was built in 1991."

"Uh-huh."

"But Niemeyer disappeared in 1979."

"So what are you saying?" Pete said.

"What I'm saying is that Niemeyer was looking up a station at that location twelve years before Wilkes Ice Station was ever even thought of."

Alison paused. "Pete, I think there were two stations. Two stations built on the same piece of land . One in 1978?the one for which a land survey by C. M. Waitzkin was drawn up?and another in 1991."

Pete Cameron leaned forward, spoke into the phone. "What do you mean, you think they built the second station on top of the first one?"

"I don't think the people who built the second station? Wilkes Ice Station?even knew about the first one," Alison said. "Brian Hensleigh doesn't mention it at all in his book."

"So what was it?" Pete said. "Niemeyer's station, I mean."

"Who knows," Alison said.

At that moment, Andrew Trent saw the sheet of notepaper in Pete's hand, took it, and began examining it.

Alison said, "So, what about you? Get anything newsworthy on your travels?"

"You could say that," Cameron said as he recalled in his mind everything Trent had told him about his unit's slaughter, his official "death," and the Intelligence Convergence Group.

" Hey ," Trent said suddenly from across the room. He held up Cameron's SETI notes. "Where did you get these?"

Pete broke off from Alison and looked at the notes he had made at SETI.

COPY 134625

CONTACT LOST?> IONOSPHERIC DISTURB.

FORWARD TEAM

SCARECROW

-66.5

SOLAR FLARE DISRUPT. RADIO

115, 20 MINS, 12 SECS EAST

HOW GET THERE SO?SECONDARY TEAM ENROUTE

Pete told Trent about his visit to SETI, told him that the notes were his record of what had been caught on the airwaves by SETI's radio telescopes.

"And these coordinates," Trent said, pointing to the words "-66.5" and "115, 20 mins, 12 secs east," "they refer to a research station in Antarctica?"

"That's right," Pete said

Trent looked hard at Pete Cameron. "Do you know anything about Marine Force Reconnaissance Units, Mr. Cameron?"

"Only what you've told me."

"They're a forward team," Trent said.

"OK," Pete said, seeing the words "forward team" on his notes.

"Scarecrow...," Trent said, staring down at the notes.

Pete looked from the notes to Trent. "What's a Scarecrow? An operation?"

"No," Trent said a little too suddenly. "Scarecrow's a man. A Marine lieutenant. A friend of mine."

Pete Cameron waited for Trent to say something more, but he didn't. And then suddenly Trent looked up into Cameron's eyes.

" Son of a bitch ," Trent said. "Scarecrow's down there."

"What do you mean?" Alison said a few minutes later. "You think there are Marines down at that station?"

"We think so, yes," Cameron said, excited.

"Jesus, there's a secondary team en route, too," Trent said, looking down at the notes again. "Shit."

Trent turned to Cameron. "Hang up for a second. I have to make a phone call."

Cameron told Alison he'd call her back.

Trent quickly dialed a number. Cameron just watched him.

"Yes, hi, Personnel, please," Trent said into the phone. He waited a second, then said, "Yes, hi. I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find Lieutenant Shane Schofield, please. It's a family emergency.... Yes, I'll hold."

Trent waited a full minute before someone returned to the line.

"Yes, hi," Trent said. "What?oh, I'm his brother-in-law, Michael." There was a pause. "Oh, no," Trent said softly. "Oh, my God....Yes, thank you. Good-bye."

Trent practically slammed the phone down. He turned to Cameron. "Holy shit."

"What?"

"According to the United States Marine Corps Personnel Department, First Lieutenant Shane M. Schofield died in a training accident in the South Pacific at 0930 hours yesterday morning. Arrangements are being made to contact his family right now."

Cameron frowned. "He's dead?"

"According to them he is," Trent said softly. "But that doesn't necessarily mean it's true, now, does it." Trent paused. "The secondary team..."

"What about it?"

"There's a secondary team on its way to Wilkes Ice Station right now, right?"

"Yeah...."

"And according to the United States Marine Corps, Shane Schofield is already dead, right?"

"Yeah..."

Trent thought about that for a long moment. Then he looked up suddenly. "Schofield's found something. They're gonna kill him."