by Nick Thacker
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ben
WITH EVERY OUNCE OF STRENGTH he had remaining, Ben shoved Julie as far away as he could. It was a nearly involuntary response, something his body did out of a reptilian instinct for predicting danger, not something he had thought through.
Her head jerked backwards but her torso flew forward. Her feet left the ground, and Ben shifted his weight to follow after her, but never got the chance.
He saw Julie’s body held in place as if suspended in a thick fluid, watching her float away from him. Only after he heard the noise of the explosion did he realize that he and Julie were actually flying — not floating — and the ground was passing beneath both of them far too rapidly for his comfort.
Ben hated flying. He’d always hated the feeling of a lack of control. He was a logical and rational person, but applying logic to the situation only reminded him that he was flying, which only made him more anxious.
He’d never experienced flying without being inside an aircraft, however, until this moment. The bellowing sauna of heat singed the outermost layer of his clothing, encompassing nearly as much as the sound. The pressure of the forceful attack itself seemed to be less than the other elements of the explosion, but it too was powerful.
Powerful enough to throw them all forward and nearly a hundred feet from the truck’s previous location.
He hit the ground, hard, and his first thought was that they’d somehow landed in the only section of the Antarctic continent that wasn’t covered by soft snow.
He groaned, wiped his eyes, and tried to stand. A shooting pain lanced up his lower body, starting from his ankle. He fell back down, his head hitting a large, soft pillow of snow.
Why couldn’t I have landed in that? he thought.
“Jules —“ he said. “You okay?”
No answer.
He gritted his teeth and tried to get up again, albeit much more slowly. His ankle argued, but eventually cooperated. He rolled over into a sitting position and began examining himself for injuries. Besides a badly twisted ankle, he would live.
“Jules, you hear me?”
“I hear you, bubba,” Reggie’s voice called out. “Why don’t you want to come massage out all my aches and pains?”
He ignored the man and stood up. He shook out the kinks from his journey through the air and started looking around. The area was an absolute mess, with sections of smoking truck parts and tire rubber littering the otherwise-white tundra. The snow had already melted around a large portion of the engine block, and Ben said a silent prayer of thanks that it had landed where it did.
“B — Ben, over here,” Julie said. She was face-up on the ground, a five-foot piece of truck roof only inches from her head. He strode over and started to help her up.
“You okay? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No to the first, no to the second.”
“But you can walk?”
“I’m not going to die right this moment, if that’s what you’re asking.” She allowed him to pull her up from her comfortable-looking position in the snow. “But give it five minutes. I’m sure there will be more of those little shits flying out here.”
“I can almost guarantee it,” Reggie said. He had appeared next to Ben, miraculously unshaken and unharmed. “Those things probably come in sets of 100. Lots of little brothers and sisters back at home, just waiting to get out of their cages.”
“You’ve got a twisted sense of humor,” Julie said.
“Who said I was joking?”
Mrs. E walked over and joined them. She had been farther from the epicenter of the blast and seemed unfazed by the event. “I believe we just saw a bit of their artificial intelligence in action,” she said.
“The drones?” Reggie asked. “How can you tell they weren’t being piloted remotely?”
“They were flying in perfect synchronization to one another,” she replied. “They were also obviously following preprogrammed patterns.”
“And when they lost units, they didn’t fill in the gaps,” Julie said.
“Exactly. A perfect example of a weak AI. They are a basic line of defense for their outer perimeter.”
“Basic? Seemed pretty effective to me,” Reggie said. “And what’s this about being weak?”
“Again,” Mrs. E explained, “weak AI just means narrow. It is good at one or two things only. In this case, it is good — very good — at performing defensive attack maneuvers.”
Ben listened to the exchange and wondered what he’d gotten himself and Julie into. If this is an example of what we can expect going forward, we’re screwed.
Hendricks was limping, but made it to the gathering with Ryan Kyle and Joshua following behind. “Everyone good?”
Everyone nodded.
“Great. Let’s get a move on, then,” he said. He was about to turn on a heel and march off toward the mountain when Joshua grabbed his arm.
“Hold on,” Joshua said. “What exactly are we looking for? We can’t just start walking toward the mountain, hoping the base is there. We’ll either get picked off by more drones or we’ll run into whatever other defenses they’ve cooked up.”
Hendricks stared a hard line at the younger man. “Tell me what’s different if we stay.”
Joshua remained silent.
“That’s what I thought,” Hendricks said. “We need to get, and we need to get now. They obviously know we’re here, and that smoldering crater behind us is the biggest signal fire on the continent. My vote? We head to that mountain top and poke around.”
“So we’re taking votes now?” Reggie asked.
Hendricks frowned. “No.” As if in need of a final punctuation mark after his statement, he turned around and this time started walking away.
“You going to follow?” Reggie asked.
He was looking at Joshua, but Mrs. E answered. “We are all going to follow him, Red,” she said. “It is our mission.”
“Right,” Reggie said. “Gotta stick with our commando.” He looked at Ben, who just shrugged.
Julie slid her hand into Ben’s, their thick gloves making the motion difficult, and she looked up at him, not bothering to ask the question that was on both their minds.
Ben, instead, asked the question. “What choice do we have?” he said. He turned to the tip of the mountain peeking out of the snow. “Rock and a hard place, and all that.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Reggie
REGGIE COULD RUN FLAT-OUT for five miles before he truly felt winded. The pride he felt for his nearly perfect physique was secondary only to the pride he felt about the way he had acquired it. Years of working out daily, morning and evening push-up sets, and pull-ups on anything solid enough to hold his weight that he happened to walk beneath were his claim to victory over an aging body. He had never ingested anything stronger than protein powder or pre-workout concoctions to accomplish it.
He had run in the cold before, including near-blizzard conditions on one of his many deployments. But Antarctic ice, frozen wind, and enough snow to sink to his knees was a new experience for him. As the remaining group — Reggie, Ben, Julie, Joshua, Mrs. E, Hendricks, and Kyle — ran alongside him, he wondered which of them would be the first to crack.
To his surprise, they made it to the edge of the rift where the mountaintop rose up from the Ross Ice Shelf without needing to stop for a breath. The area was defined by a massive cliff that rose from the ice, separated from his group by a narrow gap. The mountain was like a castle, rising high above their heads, and the space between them and the fort was a deep, hollow moat. The cliff they were standing on was made of solid ice, the edge of the glacier made even more striking by the space of deep nothingness directly in front of it.
He was sucking air when they reached their destination, and the others were switching between placing their hands on their knees and above their heads. He knew Ben, Joshua, and Julie were in great shape, but it appeared Hendricks and Kyle kept up with their PT habit, even if
they weren’t active duty. Mrs. E surprised him the most, as she seemed to be the most resilient of the bunch, already walking slow circles nearby and looking bored.
“Mrs. E,” he said. “Is that really what we should call you?”
“I would tell you to call me darling, but something tells me you have already got one of those,” she retorted in her slight accent.
He shook his head, smiling. “Actually, no. Not tied down anymore, but certainly not in the market.”
She was wearing goggles, but lifted an eyebrow high up over the top of them, exaggerating her surprise. “Well, then, I guess I will have to focus my efforts on someone else…”
Her gaze shifted from Reggie to Joshua, still breathing deeply after the run through the frozen tundra.
“I thought you were married, E?” Reggie said.
Mrs. E turned back to Reggie, and she hesitated. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Mr. E and I have been married for three years.”
Reggie frowned. “I don’t mean to be forward, but — and I hope you’ll take this as the compliment it is — you seem a bit younger than Mr. E.”
She smiled, a radiant grin that lit up her goggle-covered face. “I shall certainly consider it a compliment. He is ten years older than I am, in fact. We met four years ago, at a party.”
Reggie waited for further explanation, but got nothing. “Oh… okay, great. Well, what’s next? Should we see about finding this base?”
Ben had walked a few paces farther down to get a better look at the cliff. “It’s going to be down there,” he said, pointing into the moat.
“How do you know?” Joshua asked.
Ben looked at each person in turn. “Well, for starters, I’m afraid of heights, so going up is out of the question.”
“Going down is better?” Reggie asked.
“Marginally.”
Hendricks walked over to Ben to see the mountaintop and cliff from his perspective. “They could have built something inside the mountain,” he said. “There are probably caves cutting through the entire range.”
“They could have,” Ben answered, “But cutting through the ice and adding support structures is easier, and they could do it without needing to adjust to the natural layout of a cavern system. I’ve even seen a machine that’ll melt the ice in perfect circles, allowing you to tunnel out nice hallways without lifting a finger. And this gap between the mountain and the ice sheet gives them a perfect access point. My money’s on some sort of base in the ice directly below us.”
Reggie suddenly turned around and looked in the direction they’d come from. “What’s that noise?” he asked.
A massive plane soared down behind them, breaking through the thick line of fog. The plane, surprisingly low to the ground, began spitting out tiny dots from the back of its fuselage. The cargo plane continued cutting its line across the sky, dispersing dots every second, and then roared out of sight on the other side of the mountain range. Reggie stared for a moment, watching as the dots fell from the sky around the area currently occupied by the smoldering remains of the truck, when he suddenly understood. Blooms of off-white color exploded above each dot, and the dots slowed as they continued downward.
“Paratroopers.” Reggie said. “A bit unorthodox, to say the least, especially considering the way they arrived, what with their extremely low entry and all.”
“It’s a death wish, if you ask me,” Hendricks echoed.
“Well, they’re making it work. Any ideas who they are?” Reggie asked.
“It’s a military operation,” Hendricks said. “That transport’s a brand-new Xian Y-20, of the PLA Air Force, nicknamed ‘Chubby Girl.’ They’re breaking every rule in the book coming here, so it’s likely the Chinese also saw that little electrical light show and want to send in a few troops to investigate. Even more likely, they’ve got some idea what they’re going to find here, and they’ll do anything — like break international treaties — to find it.”
Mrs. E shook her head as the dots neared the ground. “A few troops? More like fifty or sixty.”
“Well,” Reggie said, “I’m sure we’ll get a chance to meet and greet. But for now, what say we figure out where the hell we need to get to next?”
Reggie and the others joined Ben about ten feet away at the edge of the cliff, and Reggie peered out over it as far as he felt comfortable. “Seems like a stiff drop,” he said. “We don’t happen to have climbing gear, do we?”
Hendricks nodded. “We do. Each kit has some ice axes with a rope already anchored, a harness, carabiners, the works. It’s not going to get us up Everest, but it’ll definitely get us down into that hole.”
“Well, unless anyone’s got a better idea, let’s take a look around down there,” Hendricks said. He looked at Joshua, eyes wide, obviously hoping to provoke the man.
Joshua just returned a stoic expression. “I’m not in charge, remember?”
“Well,” Hendricks declared, addressing the remainder of the group. “Let’s start rappelling. The sooner we’re out of sight, the better.” He cleared a section of snow near the edge of the cliff, then slammed the end of his axe into the ground and jumped on it, solidly affixing it into the hard ice. He fed the end of the rope through a carabiner he’d clipped to the harness, then tossed the end of the rope off the cliff. “They’re going to figure out they weren’t the first ones out here as soon as they land and start heading this way,” Hendricks said, “so I suggest you all follow suit.”
Hendricks was already stepping backwards off the edge of the ice cliff when the Chinese soldiers began firing at them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ben
“EVERYONE MOVE!” HENDRICKS YELLED FROM his perch just below the cliff’s edge. “Your weapons will stow either in your pack or over your shoulder, but do not let them out of your sight.” The others around Ben snapped into action, grabbing for the equipment in their bags and hastily working the gear onto their bodies. Julie had trouble jamming her pickaxe into the ice, but finally got it to lodge deep enough to hold her weight. Mrs. E finished first, and began following Hendricks’ lead.
The bullets zinged through the air around their heads, but the shots came from far enough away to be wildly inaccurate. Still, Ben felt the adrenaline begin to course through him and the first signs of sweat — in spite of the negative temperature — start to collect on his forehead.
Ben had been rappelling twice in his life, both times at Yellowstone, when he was forced into a mandatory training course. To pass, he had to climb a 100-foot cliff, then rappel down a 200-foot cliff.
He had nearly quit the job the first time, and he had tried in vain to come down with some sort of sickness before the second time.
He stood at the edge of the ice, the Chinese squad bearing down on them with their guns blazing, and pushed that fear away to focus on the stakes. He took a deep breath, swallowed…
And froze.
His body wouldn’t move.
Come on, he urged. Move.
His feet were planted firmly to the surface of the ice, his legs beginning to tremble.
Not now, he thought. Please, not now.
“Ben,” Julie said from beside him. “You okay?”
“I — I can’t do it,” he said. “My body just won’t.”
She reached out and put her hand on his wrist. “Ben, you have to. You know that. Come on, let’s do it together.” She squeezed, urging him backwards slowly.
Inch by inch his body reacted, crawling back on the very edge of the cliff, like falling backwards in slow motion. He felt the reassuring tension of the line in front of him, then thought of the ice axe, precariously adhered to a chunk of ice. He knew it could move at any moment, dislodging and sending him plummeting down to a gruesome death —
“Ben.” He looked to his left and found Julie there, leaning closer to him. “Stop thinking about that. You’re going to be fine. We’re all going to be —“
A line of stray bullets landed directly in front of them, da
ngerously close.
“Ben, we have to go, now!” Julie said, her tone immediately more frantic. “Just… just pretend you’re not on a cliff!”
“Wha — pretend? You’ve got to be kidding —” Ben was about to chastise Julie for her comment when she flew straight down, falling ten yards before stopping, pushing off the cliff with her feet, and then falling again. It was a rapid descent, but Ben had to admit Julie made it look easy.
He took another set of breaths, blowing out the cold air while staring straight ahead and leaning backwards. He closed his eyes and took a step.
Bullets sprinkled the ground, each burst from the oncoming Chinese army getting a little closer.
He took another step, and his eyes were now even with the ground. He saw the snow spraying upwards and dissipating like glitter into the white sky with each shot of the distant gunfire.
“Bennett!” he heard Hendricks yelling from below, his thunderous voice booming up through the canyon. Ben didn’t dare turn his head to look down, but he took a few more slow steps. He was now parallel to the cliff wall, the exact opposite position he generally preferred his body to be in.
“Bennett!” Hendricks yelled again. “If you can hear me, hurry up. Light a fire, son! They can’t shoot us now, but when they get to the edge, what do you think their next move’s going to be?”
Ben couldn’t help but wonder about the answer to the question. They’ll see the ice axes, and the tight lines running from each one…
He shuddered. Death from above, or… death from below. He was not excited about either option.
His body was moving fluidly now, each step growing bolder, bigger. He took a final breath, pushed out on the bottoms of his feet, and left the relative safety of the cliff wall.
The rope, carabiner, harness, and ice axe performed their duties flawlessly, and felt the rush of floating in nothingness, hanging in the air for a split second before falling and racing back to the wall, his feet instinctively finding their position to accept his weight and repeat the process. He landed and looked up to check his progress.