Polar Quest

by Alex Archer

  Annja checked the clock. It was just after 7:00 p.m. She knew a lot of people would still be at dinner.

  She slid her legs over the bed and got into her snow pants and boots. She zipped up her jacket and then stood by the door, cracking it just enough to get a feel for the foot traffic outside.

  A hundred feet away, she saw two armed guards on routine patrol. The military presence was very clear, but they seemed friendly enough and obviously had orders not to interfere in the scientific process.

  Annja stepped outside the door into the frigid cold. The wind took her for a step to her left until she bent her knees and lowered her weight to get her balance. Then she righted herself and walked off toward Colonel Thomson’s tent.

  Rather than appear sneaky, Annja strode through the snow as if she had a clear mission in mind to see the colonel.

  Once in his administrative tent, she could try to figure out where Garin was sleeping. And then she could have a sit-down with him. Or maybe she could just poke around in his tent and see if she could discover the real reason he was down here.

  At the entrance to Thomson’s tent, she paused. She heard nothing inside and so she stepped in.

  A young soldier sat at the desk and looked up when Annja entered. “Can I help you, Miss Creed?”

  Annja frowned. “You know who I am?”

  He nodded. “We all do. Part of our orders are to know the names and faces of everyone in camp.”

  “I see.” Annja glanced around. “Is Colonel Thomson around?”

  “No, probably off at dinner, I’d expect. Something I can help you with?”

  Annja smiled. “Actually, I was hoping to see Major Braden about something.”

  The soldier nodded. “He might be at dinner, as well.”

  Annja turned to leave. “Well, no bother. I’ll stop by his tent in a little while and ask him then.”

  “Okay,” the soldier said pleasantly.

  Annja frowned. “His tent is over by the dig site entrance, isn’t it?”

  “No, Miss Creed, it’s over by the generator station,” he said.

  Annja raised her eyebrows. “He’s sleeping near the nuclear power core?”

  The soldier grinned. “It’s perfectly safe. And besides, he volunteered to pitch his shelter there. Said he was old enough that if he started to glow in the dark, it’d be better than any of us doing the same. Helluva guy, he is.”

  Annja smiled. “Isn’t he, though?” She ducked back out of the shelter into the freezing air.

  She turned and surveyed the camp. The nuclear power generator stood by itself, somewhat close to the dig site entrance, but far enough away that it seemed a little isolated. It might have been as safe as the young soldier had insisted, but psychologically, people didn’t seem to want to be near it.

  Except for one shelter.

  Garin’s.

  Annja noticed the recent snowfall made it possible to see all the footprints in the area. She saw several sets, including what could only be Garin’s large boots, leading to and from his tent. She walked carefully in one of the sets, mimicking the steps just because she didn’t feel like advertising her presence.

  She smirked. Garin would flip if he thought she was coming to his tent. His desire for her was ridiculous at times. And Annja wondered how much of it was an act designed to simply flatter her to the point that she dropped her guard. She’d known plenty of women who were too easily disarmed by the flattery and supposed desire of a would-be conqueror.

  Annja was determined not to let that happen to her.

  Garin might make for an attractive mental stimulus every once in a great while, but she would never allow herself to bed down with him. Never.

  The entrance to his shelter loomed ahead and Annja hurried to get closer. Garin had apparently set his shelter up so it was literally flush with the nuclear power generator.

  Why would anyone—even Garin—do that?

  She glanced around the shelter but saw nothing else out of the ordinary. Hoses ran from the generator out to all of the shelters, and Annja knew they carried the electricity that powered everything in camp.

  The cold was becoming unbearable. She had to make a decision soon about whether she would stay outside or go in.

  Annja paused by the door.

  Here goes nothing, she thought.

  She knocked on the door.

  “Good evening, Annja.”

  But the voice didn’t come from within the shelter. It came from behind her. She turned and saw Garin standing there.

  “Is there something I can help you with?”

  21

  Garin looked imposing with his hood and goggles on, standing over her in the darkness. He smiled and clapped his hands together. “This is a very nice surprise. One I confess I never thought I’d see happening. But there you go. Just goes to show that we can’t predict the future.”

  Annja sighed. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Garin shook his head. “Well, I’m not going to talk to you out here. I’m cold and miserable. This weather is the absolute pits.”

  “We’re in Antarctica, Garin.”

  “Regardless, I’m going inside.” Garin opened the door. “Interested in coming in out of the cold?”

  Annja stepped over the threshold. “Whether your sick little imagination wants to admit it or not, this does not mean I’m here to sleep with you,” she stated.

  Garin placed a hand on his chest. “Woman, thou doth slay me with your unkind words.”

  “Yeah, right,” Annja said, laughing.

  Garin removed his jacket and goggles, letting them fall over the small table near the entrance. “I didn’t see you at dinner.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He stopped. “Is this going to be one of those conversations?”

  “What kind?”

  “The ones where you simply confirm my statements and we do some silly dance around the topic you really want to resolve?”

  Annja smiled. “You can tell we’ve been associates for too long. When you start predicting the flow of the talk, and all.”

  “Well,” Garin said with a gleam in his eye, “you could always cozy up to me and take things in a direction neither of us ever expected. That might be a fun way to keep our relationship fresh.”

  “I’ll give that some serious thought,” Annja said.

  “Please do.” Garin removed his snow pants. Annja glanced away. He laughed. “I’ve got other pants on underneath, for crying out loud.”

  “What? I wasn’t sure if you were naked under there or what. Knowing you, you might have planned it that way and all,” Annja said, feeling a little embarrassed.

  “Oh, might I?” Garin sat down on his bed. “There’s a chair over there or you’re welcome to sit here.”

  “Why did you pitch your shelter near the nuclear generator?” Annja asked.

  Garin grinned. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Well, sure, but I like asking questions that have obvious answers because I’m a real fan of hearing myself speak,” she said.

  Garin frowned. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m not exactly legitimate. And frankly, I like knowing that I have some separation, just in case I need to get out of here in a hurry.”

  “You’re expecting to have to leave?”

  “One never knows.” Garin leaned back. “I’ve always found it’s far better to be prepared for any eventuality. I had to live that way for years while Roux and I tried to kill each other. After a while, that pattern gets ingrained in you. It’s not something you can even choose to do or not do. It just happens.”

  “So you’ve got yourself an isolated bit of real estate here,” Annja said.

  “Yes.”

  “With the isotopes floating about.”

  Garin smiled. “The reactor is perfectly safe. It’s a one-of-a-kind unit, I’m told. Straight off the DARPA assembly block. This is the first unit to use them in an actual field test. So far, I’m impressed.”

  Annja sat on the ch
air and stretched her legs.

  Garin sat up. “So what’s this all about, then? Why were you lurking around my shelter? Hoping to catch a glimpse of me in my skivvies?”

  “Not even close.” Annja frowned. “And I wasn’t lurking. I asked where your shelter was and here I am.”

  “Who’d you ask?”

  “The soldier in Thomson’s tent.”

  Annja looked around the shelter. Garin had little in terms of personal effects. She spotted a backpack and that was it. “That’s all your stuff?”

  Garin glanced over. “That? Oh, yeah. Well, I travel light these days. I make better time than if I overpack.”

  “I haven’t seen any weapons on you yet.”

  “Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” Garin replied.

  Annja looked at him closely. “Tell me why you said that thing back in the cavern.”

  Garin took a deep breath and leaned back onto the bed. “What thing was that?”

  Annja sighed. “You said something about animals creating the artifacts we found.”

  “Did I?”

  “You know you did.”

  “Well, I say a lot of things, Annja. And often, they make little to no sense at all. My mind, after all, is a bit addled. Fermented, you might even say.”

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  Garin smiled. “I could be persuaded to divulge my precious information. Perhaps.”

  Annja shook her head. “I’m not bartering sex for information.”

  “There are a lot worse ways to gain intelligence, Annja. You might give it some thought. I know I have.”

  “I’m sure.” Anna stood.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Garin asked.

  “I don’t see any reason to stay. You’ve obviously got some sort of sexual fantasy you need to live out. And I’m not going to be a part of it.”

  Garin sighed. “But we were just getting going.”

  “No, we weren’t. I was asking you a serious question and you were doing your best to derail us into hedonism.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Annja sat back down. “Look, Garin, I’m not going to judge you for being what you are—”

  “Which is what?”

  “A sex addict with questionable sociological tendencies.”

  Garin considered that and then shrugged. “Okay.”

  “But I do get frustrated with the constant parrying I have to do to try to get answers out of you. I don’t have the time or inclination to spar ceaselessly with you. Really.”

  “All right, fine. So I said something about animals making the artifacts. What about it?”

  Annja looked at him. “Do you really believe that?”

  “I don’t know. I threw it out there because I knew it would get under your skin. And obviously, I was right. Look at how you’ve been obsessing about it. You’re sitting here now because of one simple comment. That says a lot, I think.”

  “It says a lot because I’m a bit confused about my situation,” Annja admitted.

  “And you want to know where all the pieces fit together—is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  Garin smiled. “You know what I envy about you, Annja? I mean, aside from your utterly delectable body.”

  “What?”

  “Your inability to lie.”

  Annja frowned. “I can lie.”

  Garin shook his head. “My darling Annja, you cannot lie convincingly. There may have been times in your past when you told lies to save yourself, but in general, you simply don’t possess the capacity for it.”

  Annja rubbed her shoulder. “So I need to be a liar all the time now? Be like you, in other words?”

  “I don’t lie all the time, Annja. But what I do is tell enough lies such that when I tell the truth, people can’t tell the difference. It affords me greater opportunity to manipulate events to my liking.”

  “I’m not sure I follow,” Annja said.

  “Take this afternoon when I told you about the animals. You thought that was real. You then spent hours wondering about it prior to coming here and confronting me. But in truth, that was an offhand comment I made to distract you from other things.”

  “What other things?”

  Garin held up his hand. “We were talking about the animals. Don’t derail this conversation.”

  “So you don’t believe animals created the artifacts?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You just said that it was an offhand comment,” Annja said.

  “So?”

  Annja frowned. “Forget it, I’m going.”

  Garin stretched out on his bed. “I once read the most amazing science fiction story about a mission to the Moon. The astronauts dug up bones on a site.”

  “What kind of bones?” Annja asked, wondering if she’d regret it.

  “Dinosaur bones.”

  Annja frowned. “Dinosaurs? On the Moon? That is science fiction.”

  “Is it really?” Garin sat up. “We know now that dinosaurs were actually more intelligent than previously thought. So how is it far-fetched to assume that there might have been a race of animals intelligent enough to create metal and fashion it into artifacts like what were found in the dig site?”

  “That belongs to the realm of writers,” Annja said. “God bless them for their ability to tell stories, but that’s pretty out there.”

  “Well, perhaps. But just because it doesn’t make sense now doesn’t mean it won’t make perfect sense in the future.”

  Annja zipped up her jacket. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Of course you will.”

  Annja put her hood up. “I wish I could say it’s been fun.”

  Garin smiled. “Well, it won’t ever be fun until you shuck those clothes and hop into bed with me.”

  “Good night, Garin.”

  Annja started for the door to the shelter.

  “Annja?”

  She paused and looked back. Garin lay on his bed with his eyes closed. His hands were folded across his chest as if he were a corpse resting in a coffin. Annja found the image vaguely unsettling and she wasn’t quite sure why.

  “What?” she asked.

  Garin’s eyes opened and he gave her a long look. “I think there’s something you’re forgetting.”

  “What’s that?”

  “With regard to the animals making the artifacts.”

  “Yes?”

  Garin smiled. “Did Zach tell you anything about the various tests they conducted on the pieces?”

  “Sure. He told me they ran a battery of tests trying to figure out exactly what their composition was, how old they were, that kind of thing.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  Garin sighed. “The metal used in the pieces. Remember? It wasn’t from this planet. It’s an unknown alloy. I believe that tends to discount the theory about the race of intelligent animals. Don’t you?”

  Annja stood there for another moment and then walked back out, unsure if she’d learned anything new or just gotten more frustration for her time.

  22

  “She’s going to be a problem if she’s around for much longer.”

  “We’ll be there tomorrow. Can it wait until then?”

  He gripped the satellite phone and his knuckles turned white. “I don’t like delays. And yours have already forced me to push my timetable back considerably.”

  “Why not go ahead and complete your mission? If the woman gets in the way, you could always kill her.”

  The man sighed. He hated dealing with fools. Unfortunately, sometimes they were the only ones who could be used in certain situations. “If I kill her, it will raise too many questions. And I don’t need the attention, not when I’m so close. It needs to be soon, though, or else she will discover what I’ve got planned.”

  “I think you put too much faith in her intelligence.”

  “Perhaps that’s
because I know her a bit better than you do. I know what she’s capable of, and right now, what she’s most capable of is being a nuisance to me. This was supposed to have been finished by now and it’s not.”

  “It would have been if our Sno-Cat didn’t break down. We couldn’t do anything until we got rescued and brought back to McMurdo. And once we got back, we had to dodge the marshal. He’s been asking questions.”

  “If he becomes a problem, then you’ll have to deal with him. Quietly.”

  “We will.”

  He glanced at the clock near his bed. “When will you be here?”

  “At some point over the next day.”

  “The camp is very well guarded. You won’t have an easy time getting in without paperwork.”

  “We don’t need papers. You mentioned there wasn’t much of a perimeter—is that still the case?”

  “They haven’t strengthened it, no. You could come in by coming down from the mountain face. It’s a complicated route, but you and your partner should have no problems surmounting it, given your backgrounds.”

  “Good.”

  “Is everything arranged on your end?”

  “Yes. The freighter will be in the harbor within thirty-six hours. It will stand by offshore, just shy of the ice packs. Once you’re set to exfiltrate, they’ll send in a Zodiac and get you out of there.”

  “It has to have a solid hull, not an inflatable one.”

  “It will.”

  He nodded. A few more days and this would all be behind him. “And you know what has to happen to everyone in this camp once I have what I’ve come here for?”

  “They all die.”

  “And all traces of this dig must be obliterated.”

  “We understand.”

  “Good. Contact me when you’re closer.”

  “Will do. Out.”

  The phone disconnected in his ear and he placed it back in his backpack. There was always a chance that the American National Security Agency might have penetrated the secure communication system on the satellite, but he doubted they would be able to track it back to him. Ever since 9/11, the NSA—like its counterparts—had been far too focused on dealing with terrorist threats than with various other crimes.