While he worked, the others fired up the drill again. There was a tearing, screeching sound, and the engine revved furiously. Paxton ducked instinctively as a sharp crack like a gunshot indicated that the probe had sheared. White smoke filled the drill-house, and the engine spluttered into silence.
“That was it,” said Senko, crouching to examine it. “Ice pressure’s finally distorted the borehole to the point where the drill can’t work. We were just in time.”
Hall nodded at the canister that held the murky water. “That’ll be enough. In a few years, someone’ll sink another hole and get more, but until then, this’ll do.”
Senko shook his head over the drill. “I’ll fetch a new bit and try again, but I doubt it’ll work.”
When he had gone, Julie edged towards Paxton, leaning over his shoulder and speaking in a low whisper so that Hall would not hear.
“The drill sounded different from the moment it started this morning. Did you notice?”
Paxton nodded absently, concentrating on his work. “It ran more smoothly than normal.”
“Quite. You know what that means, don’t you?”
Paxton gazed at her when the implications dawned on him. He cursed himself for not being more alert. He had listened to the drill chewing its way through ice for six months and should have realized that the difference in sound that day was significant.
“The drill wasn’t cutting ice,” he said. “It was already in the water when we started it.”
Julie nodded. “The lake must’ve been tapped yesterday, while Tanya was working on it. Perhaps the ice is less dense near the water, and she made better time than our instruments said she would. But it seems Tanya reached the lake first.”
Paxton nodded. “We’ll credit her with its discovery in our reports.”
Julie sighed irritably. “That’s not what I meant. My point is that Tanya broke into the lake and then went missing. Wilkes came here to look for her, and he’s missing, too.”
“Not this again,” began Paxton tiredly. “I don’t-”
He was interrupted by Senko, who burst into the drill-house so abruptly that he almost ripped the damaged door from its hinges.
“They’ve gone! Both of them!” he gasped. “I’ve checked the kitchen and the labs. They’re not here; they’ve gone the same way as Tanya and Wilkes.”
“Who?” asked Hall stupidly, an expression of puzzlement on his heavy features. “What are you talking about?”
“Morris and Bannikov!” yelled Senko in exasperation. “I went to tell them that we’d broken through. They’re not here. They’ve gone!”
Julie regarded Paxton steadily. “And where did they say they were going, before they went to bed last night?” she asked quietly.
“To check the labs,” said Hall. He swallowed hard. “And the drill-house.”
“Yes,” said Julie softly. “The drill-house.”
Paxton remained convinced that Julie’s explanation was impossible, but was unable to provide her with an alternative one. He radioed McMurdo, and was too disheartened to object when Hall took the microphone to add that the disappearances of Tanya, Wilkes, Morris, and Bannikov were somehow connected to drilling into the lake. Julie nodded agreement, while Senko sighed and indicated with a forefinger tapping his temple that he thought they were both insane.
With the others in tow, Paxton went to inspect Morris and Wilkes’ sleeping quarters. Neither were neat in their habits, and it was difficult to say whether they had slept in their beds the previous night. Therefore, it was not possible to prove or disprove Julie’s suspicion that the last thing they had done was visit the drill-house for one final look for their missing colleagues.
“Their rooms are the two nearest the exit,” said Paxton, frowning. “I never hear them coming or going anyway, because the heating makes too much noise.”
“I think I heard Morris,” said Senko, whose room was next door. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and I heard him moving about, moaning.”
“What do you mean, ‘moaning’?” demanded Paxton. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“Because I assumed he was distressed over Tanya and Wilkes, and it didn’t seem right to tell you about it. But I may be wrong: the heaters mask sounds, as you just said yourself.”
Julie stared at her feet. “Tanya and I were good friends and I was upset last night. It was probably me you heard.”
“It may’ve been,” said Senko, shrugging. “I tried not to listen.”
Paxton sighed. “Well, there’s a rational explanation for these disappearances, and I’m going to find out what it is. People simply don’t vanish.”
Hall backed away from him. “Count me out. I’m not going anywhere near that drill-house.”
“Good,” said Paxton. “All of you can stay here. There’s safety in numbers.”
“There wasn’t for Morris and Bannikov,” Senko pointed out. “They were together, but they still went.”
“Stay here anyway,” said Paxton. “You can keep an eye on each other.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Julie, regarding him warily.
“I mean that it’s possible one of us is responsible. If the three of you are together, then nothing untoward’s going to happen.”
“Unless the culprit’s you,” said Julie softly.
“In that case, you’ll be safe with Hall and Senko,” said Paxton shortly. “I’m going to look around the drill-house, since that’s where people go missing. I’ll find out what’s going on if I have to tear it apart plank by plank.”
“Wait,” said Julie, running after him. “I’m coming with you. You said we should we stay in pairs, and you’re right. Hall can stay with Senko.”
They reached the drill-house, and Paxton dropped to his hands and knees to begin an intricate inspection of the floor. Julie watched.
“What are you looking for?”
Paxton shrugged. “I’ll know when I find it. Four people don’t disappear and leave no trace. Maybe I’ll find a spot of blood, or something that suggests foul play.”
Julie looked unconvinced, but knelt next to him and poked about with the sturdy penknife she always carried. It was cold, miserable work, and after about an hour, she stood, closing the knife with a snap.
“This is hopeless. There’s nothing here. I’m going back to the others.”
Paxton did not blame her. As the door closed, he moved to a new area, beginning to feel that she was right and that he was wasting his time. He was stiff from kneeling on the ice, and the prospect of a hot drink in the kitchen was an attractive proposition. He was about to give in to it, when a spot of colour caught his eye. It was a fragment of wood, and attached to it were a few hairs – long, dark hairs, like Tanya’s.
He studied them thoughtfully. He had found what seemed to be a clue, but had no idea what its significance could be. Had the hairs been in the drill-house for some time – before Tanya had disappeared – or had they been pulled from her head during some kind of struggle? He realized that there was no way to know.
Placing his find in a sample bag, he began to walk towards the kitchen. He was tired from tension and lack of sleep, and walked unsteadily over the slick ice. He stumbled over a carelessly placed wire, and grabbed at a high stack of crates in an attempt to steady himself. Without warning, they began to totter,
