The Nexus Colony

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The Nexus Colony Page 12

by G. F. Schreader


  “Sorry for the rather abrupt introduction,” Abbott apologized. “But we don’t have a lot of time to spare. We’ve got a good weather window and I want to take advantage of it while I’ve got it.” He was very regimented even in his speaking, Ruger also noticed.

  Mike Ruger knew all too well what Abbott was talking about. Whether this man comprehended the magnitude of it though, Ruger would have to reserve judgment. This guy seemed to have it together, and if he had it together that much, Ruger wondered why the government even wanted a highly paid mountaineering guide along.

  “I’m going have to wing it here…,” Abbott continued, hesitating. So, Ruger thought. It’s just as I suspected. Allison and Hilly were added while you were en route. “Mr. Ruger…”

  “Mike.”

  “…Mike. I guess we weren’t anticipating having this large a team.”

  Ruger said, “Survival is the primary concern out here. The more people, the more security. What’s the difference anyway?”

  Abbott looked up at Ruger, then at the other two. “I’ll be frank. We’ve got a security problem here. That’s the difference.”

  “These people have clearances,” Ruger replied. It came out like he was defending his friends, which was probably closer to the fact than not. “So do I for that matter, or else we wouldn’t be working for NSF.”

  “Your clearances are only Confidential,” Abbott responded.

  “So what’s the point?” Ruger asked, starting to get annoyed along with everybody else.

  Abbott didn’t back off. “The point is, Mr. Ruger, this is a Top Secret government project. It’s a matter of national security.”

  Allison suddenly responded harshly, and it turned everybody’s head including Ruger’s. “Well, Mr. Marshall Abbott—Marsh—if it was all that top secret, they wouldn’t have sent little old us along, now, would they?”

  Abbott looked at her with an expressionless face. “Do you people have any idea what we might be up against?” he asked.

  Ruger responded, “This is Antarctica, Mr. Abbott. Do you have any idea what you’re up against?”

  Abbott capitulated, leaning back in his seat. “We’re going to have to come to some sort of compromise here. I think that’s obvious. We’ve been thrown together by people ranking high above us. But I have my job. And you people have your job. Let’s just make certain we’ve got the priorities straight.”

  Uncharacteristically, Grimes responded, “Nobody is even alluding to interfering with your job, Mr. Abbott. I’m a scientist and so is Dr. Bryson. We’ve no more of an idea why we’re here than Mike does. Except that we’ve obviously already been where you want to go. But we’re here nonetheless, aren’t we? Your…excuse me, our government has decided that. None of us. If you have any doubt about our compromising national security, then for God’s sake, turn this damn plane around and put us off!”

  Why, Hilly, Ruger thought. I didn’t think you had it in you!

  To everyone’s surprise, Abbott sat silent, scanning each of their faces. A few moments later, he said, “What do any of you know about the artifacts?”

  It caught them by surprise. “Nothing,” Ruger responded. “Other than the fact that Hilly and I found them.”

  “And some ridiculous rumors,” Grimes added. “Word around the station is that they’re supposed to be of alien origin.”

  “Which I personally think is totally absurd,” Allison added.

  “It’s not absurd, Dr. Bryson,” Abbott responded, casting a disconcerted glance.

  “And that’s why you’re here, I presume,” Ruger said.

  Abbott looked at him. “And that’s why we’re here. Yes. To find the source.”

  For a moment, no one spoke. There merely stared at each other. The vibration of the engines hummed through the bulkheads, and Ruger could even feel it through his feet. Then the pitch of the engines changed, and Ruger felt the subtle change in direction, probably to move away from the downdrafts that were caused by the massive valleys of the Transantarctic Mountains.

  Abbott continued, “Some people in our government are convinced of the validity of that.”

  “Of what?” Grimes asked, interrupting.

  Without answering, Abbott continued, “Our mission is to find the source…if one even exists…and either substantiate that the origin of the artifacts is from a source physically here, or that they did not come from here. It’s as simple as that. And I’m assuming that Dr. Bryson and Dr. Grimes here are going to help me establish that either way.”

  “I don’t know what I can do to establish that,” Allison responded. “I’m a marine biologist.”

  “Neither do I,” Grimes added.

  “You’re scientists,” Abbott responded.

  “So is Dr. Almshouse,” Grimes pointed out.

  Leaning forward, Abbott replied, “Then I guess collectively all three of you should be able to put your heads together and help me find an answer.”

  The exchange so far had given Marshall Abbott what he needed to know about the three of them. Abbott wanted to know if any of them could be pushed around. Ruger’s conduct was unquestionable. This is one tough son-of-a-bitch, Abbott thought. As far as the other two were concerned, a measure of their objectivity was about all he wanted to find out. Usually, the mention of anything related to extraterrestrial activity was enough to get a rise out of anyone, but people in the scientific world were different. Abbott wanted their gut perspective. It seemed Bryson and Grimes—and Ruger for that matter—all seemed to express disinterest and skepticism at the possibility that there might be alien implications. Good. He didn’t need romanticizers or fantisizers along. Things could get complicated enough if The Visitors chose to interact.

  In a surprise gesture and mock signal of surrender, the smiling Abbott leaned forward and looked at each of them individually. “Welcome to the team,” he said. “We’ll all work together to accomplish the objective of the mission. That includes me. Now, if we can all go back to a first name basis, I think it would be a step in the right direction for all of us.”

  The three of them held back for a moment, until finally Ruger nodded his head. “Just what in the hell are we up against? I think you know more than you’ve told us thus far.”

  Abbott slowly nodded affirmatively. “Are any of you aware of…reports of unusual activity in the area?”

  “No,” Ruger replied.

  “Yes,” Allison responded, and they looked at her. “But I’m finding anything like that hard to believe. They said that Dr. Coughenour’s team out on the Penguin Princess…that’s our science vessel?…had some kind of weird experience. Just rumors, though.”

  “What kind of weird experience,” Abbott asked, solemn.

  “Something about them finding tropical fish in the trawling nets,” Allison replied.

  Grimes shook his head ‘no’. He hadn’t heard about it.

  Abbott leaned back and retrieved something from the attaché case. “There has been some recent activity,” Abbott said, “and…I just got an updated report right after we left New Zealand. I think maybe all three of you had better read it.”

  Abbott handed the document to Ruger, and silently they huddled to read what was a summary report of some very strange events. Twelve in all. If they could even be believed.

  “This is pure science fiction,” Grimes finally commented, shaking his head in amusement.

  “This incident with the Penguin Princess is absolutely ridiculous!” Allison said, shaking her head and laughing. Ruger remained expressionless, sensing something unknown at the moment that none of them were seeing yet. He kept silent. Allison turned to Abbott and said, “You don’t really expect us to believe all of this, do you?”

  Abbott reached and retrieved the document. He looked at Ruger who still remained expressionless. “My people in Washington are apparently concerned about these reports that have surfaced since the discovery of the artifacts.”

  Ruger responded, “Are you trying to tell us that this report is
tied in to the artifacts?”

  “I guess that’s one of the things we’ve got to find out, Mike,” he replied.

  Ruger responded, “I think we’d just better stick to the basics, Marsh. We’re going to have enough to deal with on The Ice without worrying about fairy tales.”

  “Well,” Abbott responded, signaling at least a temporary end to the discussion. “Peter?” he called above the din of the engines, motioning for Almshouse to join them. The rest was up to him. Let the scientists sort out their skepticism.

  Abbott got up when Almshouse arrived and offered his seat, which Almshouse immediately took. Abbott motioned for Ruger to follow him toward the forward area, obviously to converse with the other two members of Abbott’s team who were sitting forward on the web seats behind the flight deck. Halfway there, Abbott stopped and turned to face him.

  Above the vibrating din of the bulkhead, certain that nobody else could hear, Abbott said to Ruger, “I’m deferring all survival logistics to your expertise, Mike. We’ve all just had a refresher crash course on Arctic survival. Tell us what we need to know. Al and I will see to it that everybody follows your orders. I’ve been stationed in the Arctic before, Mike. I know this place is even more dangerous than up there. I’m depending on you.” Ruger was a hard man to read, and Abbott hoped that he had found an ally.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Ruger responded. “I was beginning to wonder.” Ruger gestured toward Prall and Monroe who sat expressionless in the web seats.

  “I’ll handle them,” Abbott replied. “You just do your job.”

  As Abbott turned, Ruger extended his hand and stopped him. “What?” Abbott asked. When Ruger didn’t immediately respond, Abbott repeated, “What is it, Mike? We’ve no time for games here.”

  Ruger sighed. Might as well tell him now. “I think I know the source.”

  Abbott didn’t respond at first. “You know where it is, or you think you know where it is?”

  “Yeah. I guess it’s more like that. I think I know where it is.”

  “Why don’t we have that information already?” Abbott asked, visibly annoyed.

  “Look,” Ruger replied. “I didn’t tell anybody. Didn’t think it was all that important at the time.”

  “How far is it from where you found the artifacts?”

  “Not far. Couple miles up the glacier,” Ruger said. “Right before we broke camp I took one more run up the valley. I found a crevasse…pretty wide one…I didn’t have a chance to go around it to get a look from the other side. But I think there may have been more of those things embedded in the wall.”

  “More structural pieces?”

  “I couldn’t tell. Might have just been more debris. I couldn’t get close enough.” While Abbott pondered, Ruger added, “I took some pictures but even when I analyzed the prints close up I couldn’t tell much.”

  “You should have turned the negatives over to us, Mike.”

  “What’s the difference?” Ruger replied. “If your people had determined they’re more of these structural pieces, I’d be taking you up there anyway. Right?”

  Abbott didn’t respond. “Look, Marsh,” Ruger said. “I’m a mountaineering guide hacking out a living doing what I like to do best. I don’t have much interest in politics, hob-goblins, or even all this scientific research your government is coordinating out here. You know what I feel about this place, Marsh?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  “This is Antarctica. It’s a world apart from the rest of the planet. It’s an icy, forbidding land where the unchosen are left abandoned. This land is so unforgiving that it transcends even your wildest imagination.”

  Abbott stood expressionless, listening.

  “It’s the last terrestrial frontier, Marsh,” Ruger concluded. “When they destroy it, it’ll be gone at least until we humans die off. And for some unknown reason, God has compelled me…or maybe condemned would be a better word…to try to survive it. And that’s all I care about.”

  Abbott looked at him. “I respect that, Mike.”

  “I respect what you do, Marsh,” Ruger replied. “If that’s what you’ve chosen for yourself, I’ll be the last to interfere. You’ve got my support. But this shroud of mystery about top secret missions and security clearances has no meaning in this part of the world. Don’t let it interfere with what we have to do down there to survive.” Ruger gestured out the tiny window at the white desolation below.

  “We’re going to get along just fine,” Abbott responded, slapping him on the shoulder.

  “I’m certain,” Ruger replied.

  After a moment’s pause, Abbott said, quite seriously, “They’re out there, Mike. There are visitors from other worlds all over this planet. I only hope they’re not down there waiting to greet us.”

  Ruger looked at the seriousness on his face. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  But Abbott only responded by saying, “So, tell me a little more about the crevasse. Can we set up camp at it?”

  “Near it. At least within a mile. Can’t get too close. I’ll have to check it out first. Things change in a matter of days out here. Sometimes hours even.”

  “Of course.”

  “The plane won’t be able to get any closer than…say, three, four miles. We’ll have to drag everything up the glacier.”

  Abbott asked, “And I presume you brought along gear to repel down the crevasse?”

  “Yeah. No problem. Equipment, that is. It’s dangerous as hell, though. Ever do it?”

  “Once. Crevasse wasn’t too deep, actually. How far down is this one?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Ruger responded. “I wasn’t able to tell. Some of them go down a few hundred. This one’s at a higher elevation on the glacier, though. Shouldn’t be that deep. But still, you never know.”

  “How long for us to set up camp?”

  “Two hours to do it right.”

  “You got it,” Abbott said. “Let’s go over and I’ll get you better acquainted with the others.” Before he turned, Abbott added, “Al Lisk is my man, Mike. If anything happens to me…” He left the sentence unfinished. Ruger realized Lisk was subordinate to one of the others. Military bullshit.

  “Can I ask you a question?’ Ruger said.

  “Of course.”

  “Colonel Prall and…Major?…Monroe. What are their roles in all this?”

  Abbott paused. “Advisors, Mike. Military advisors. They’re along to protect Uncle Sam’s interests. And protect us, too.”

  “From whom?” Ruger asked.

  Abbott smiled. “Aliens, Mike,” he replied. “What else?”

  For some reason, Ruger was almost beginning to believe him.

  Chapter 7

  FEBRUARY 9, 20--

  PROJECT COMMAND CENTER

  GAITHERSBURG, MARYLAND

  9:30 A.M. EST

  “Did anybody photograph it?”

  “No.”

  Bill Korbett stared at the reports with some level of disbelief, not because he doubted their validity, but rather because this particular incident was something anybody would have trouble believing. Particularly many of his contemporaries, some of whom didn’t subscribe to the visitor side of the theory of the UFO phenomenon in the first place despite all the physical evidence for it. Not Ted Payne and his staff, though. They’d come across a lot of strangeness during some of the projects, but none recently, and not one so strange and biblical in proportions like this one, as Darbury had put it.

  Korbett glanced again at the summary of the other reports, all from the Antarctic continent, which paled in comparison:

  January 31—a French research team at Dumont d’Urville reports a formation of five cube-shaped objects that come in from the direction of the Indian Ocean, then turn ninety degrees to follow the coastline; French team immediately contacts the Russian team down the coast at Leningradskaya which, within a minute (indicating tremendous speed), witnesses the same formation as it “hovers” in the distance for over five mi
nutes before accelerating at a tremendous speed again heading toward the Transantarctic Mountains.

  February 1 — Russian team at Vostok reports that one of its photographic surveillance planes is “buzzed” by a conical shaped UFO as the airplane traverses the area around the Beardmore Glacier.

  February 3—five New Zealanders conducting research in the Dry Valleys area near Vanda Station witness what they think was the destruction of an odd-looking aircraft in the sky; a single brightly lit object passed overhead, zoomed to a higher altitude over the mountain peaks in the distance, then seemed to self-destruct as the object burst into five or six separate glowing objects which plunged downward into the earth behind the mountains; subsequent aircraft surveillance of the area failed to substantiate any debris or evidence of the presence of any downed craft.

  February 4—The Australian team at Davis, a Chinese team at Zhongshan, and another Russian team at Progress—three research stations within close proximity of each other—simultaneously report that a huge object shaped like “a giant cigar with blue and green strobing lights” passed overhead at an estimated altitude of 40,000 feet, descended to about 20,000 feet, turned, then headed inland in the general direction of the Ross Ice Shelf across the continent.

  February 4—a Japanese fishing vessel working the waters off the Drygalski Ice Tongue reports a strange triangular object with red lights at each apex that circles the ship once at an estimated distance of two miles, and then plunges into the depths of the Ross Sea; the vessel searches the area for debris but finds no evidence of ditching; weather was clear, unlimited visibility, yet the object did not register on ship’s radar.

  There were six additional sighting reports between February 4 and February 6. The twelfth report of February 7 by the NSF vessel Penguin Princess was the grand encounter, the one which Korbett still stared at with disbelief despite his convictions about alien strangeness.

 

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