board our choppers at O-nine hundred hours for immediate dust off. It is imperative we move quickly.”
He looked around the room and asked loudly, “Is Ms. Monica Jennings present?” Monica raised her hand and shouted a hearty “Yo,” which caused Matt to snigger.
“Have the caving suits arrived?” Alex asked.
“Have they ever,” replied Monica, unzipping the front of her bulky snow overalls and displaying what appeared to be a type of wetsuit. “Where did you get these, they’re unbel—”
Alex cut her off, and spoke again in a loud and clear voice. “Everyone, please see Ms. Jennings who will distribute the caving suits. Each one has your name tag on the front and is tailored to your exact measurements. Ms. Jennings will be able to answer any questions about them in her briefing, occurring in twelve minutes. For now, carry on.”
Alex wasn’t going to tell them too much until they were in the air or at the insertion point. The thing about civilians was that they had a tendency to want to pull out if things sounded like they were going to get a bit hot or complex, and at this point in the mission every one of their special skills was going to be needed.
Alex had read all of their bios and the detailed mission notes from the Hammer; he already knew a lot about the team members before he had met them. Some were going take more watching than others, but for the most part they seemed physically and psychologically ready for a day under the ice.
When Alex was a boy he remembered his father telling him that you started to feel old when policemen and teachers began to look young. Alex was still in his mid-thirties, but looking at the youthful archaeology professor, he suddenly knew what his dad had meant. Alex saw that Matt Kerns had managed to be first into his high-tech caving suit and was doing a little clowning for Monica Jenning’s benefit. Matt stood with his hands on his hips, turned and did an exaggerated walk across the hangar in a mincing, catwalk style. He looked back over his shoulder at Monica and Alex used his hypersensitive hearing to draw out the young archaeologist’s words. “Does it make my bum look big?”
“Your bum, no. Your head, very,” Monica retorted, laughing. She walked over to him and helped tighten some loose strapping on his suit.
Alex envied them — free to do what they wanted when they wanted. No demons of the id to hold them back. Before turning back to rejoin his men, he looked once more at Aimee Weir. He caught her looking at him before she quickly turned away.
At O-eight hundred on the dot, Alex Hunter strode once again to the centre of the hangar. “Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your full attention please. In less than sixty minutes we will be boarding the chopper out on the airfield. Our objectives are speed and invisibility; therefore we have to trade some of the comforts of flying you may be used to. The trip will be in two hops, the first to Macquarie Island, nine hundred and sixty miles to our south-south-east. It will take us approximately six hours. The island is little more than a cold dry rock, so we get to stretch our legs while refuelling and then we immediately dust off for the final hop. This last one will take us directly to our insertion point on the ice, some eighteen hundred miles further south. Provided we get favourable weather, it should take us just under twelve hours.” He smiled inwardly as he heard the audible groans from most of the group. All except Dr. Aimee Weir, she just nodded and kept the look of determination on her face.
“You will now be briefed on our primary objectives, security operations, and some basic safety and caving techniques by Ms. Jennings. We will have a final equipment check at O-eight fifty and be in the air by O-nine hundred hours. There will be an opportunity for further questions on the chopper, and briefly again on arrival.”
Matt Kerns started to ask a question, but Captain Hunter held up his hand and shook his head. “Be patient, time is critically short. Dr. Silex, if you please.”
“Thank you, Captain. You and your men may stand at ease.”
Alex didn’t budge; he had worked with civilians before, and it was rarely a pleasant experience unless their roles were purely advisory. Giving them anything like authority always ended poorly for the civilians. Alex thought he could play along for just a few days, especially if they were both headed in the same general direction.
Alex Hunter’s men never moved or acknowledged Silex in any way; as far as they were concerned Captain Hunter gave the orders, end of transmission.
Dr. Silex cleared his throat, “Our objective is twofold. Firstly, to verify the existence of surficial sub-shale deposits of liquid petroleum, their size, depth and viability for extraction. Dr. Weir and I will be deploying ground- based electromagnetic imaging devices to allow us to ‘see’ exactly what is below the surface. At this stage it could be a vast petroleum bed or nothing more than a contaminated water cave. We’ll be taking some core samples for initial onsite analysis so we can make some preliminary recommendations on next steps back to home base. Dr. Weir will also be investigating some petrobiological anomalies that were picked up in the samples by our predecessor, Dr. Tom Hendsen.”
Aimee narrowed her eyes at the tall scientist and Alex guessed she wasn’t at all happy with the scientific aspect of the mission having been given priority.
Silex cleared his throat once again before continuing. “The second objective is to find out what happened to Dr. Hendsen, the twenty-eight members of his team, and for that matter, the eleven personnel onboard the initial plane that crashed through the ice. We don’t know whether they’re dead or just incapacitated due to exposure to one of the dozens of gases that can pool near natural oil deposits. In summary, this expedition has two simple objectives — scientific and possible rescue. However, we know that the ice floes are not policed and can be home to a lot of unsavoury characters like pirates and poachers; hence Captain Hunter and his security detail will be keeping us company.”
Following the reference to the security aspect of the mission, Alex noticed Aimee scrutinising his team, and he could read the skepticism in her expression. That’s right, Dr. Weir, a lot of muscle and iron just for some poachers. When her eyes made it to him he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. This time she didn’t look away as quickly.
Silex continued, “The important thing to be aware of is that we will be doing our work underground. The plane punched through the roof of a large cavern and we will need to enter that opening to complete our work successfully. For those of you like me who have never been rock-climbing or caving before, we are about to get a crash course. Ms. Jennings, can you please talk us through some basics and describe these new clothes we’re all wearing?”
Monica walked forward, feeling like a mini superhero in her tight black outfit. In her hands she carried other items they would need in the caves. “Good morning, everyone — this is going to be fun.” For a caver or spelunker, the opportunity to explore a new cave system, to find or see something that no one had ever seen before, was a dream come true. For her beloved sport, she would wriggle through the most claustrophobic crevices or scale slippery rock faces in absolute darkness; to her, this was what made life worth living.
“I want to start by explaining what we’ll be doing, and then describe some of the materials you’ll need, including these state-of-the-art caving suits — thank you once again, Uncle Sam. Caves are like people, really. Some are easy, some secretive and rewarding, and some are real bitches and will kill you if they can. Some caves give you plenty of room, enough to drive a bus through, while others require belly crawls, challenging climbs or dangerous descents. They can be hot or cold, and nearly always dark; they can be dusty-dry, muddy or completely filled with water. We may even encounter ice tunnels where the ice can be soft as a slushy, or dark and blue and as hard as steel.” Monica drew in a long breath.
“Professional cavers usually devote plenty of time to training, planning and practising how to use any new gear. We don’t have that time, and I’ve been told that this is just a three-day job, and most of that is travelling. We drop in, locate any survivors, Dr. Weir and Dr. Silex drill a few holes, and then we climb back out — easy.” Monica paused for a few minutes to allow what she had said to sink in and check for any questions. There were none — she hoped that was a good sign.
“Your gear is a high-tech military incursion suit being used for the first time outside of a combat environment. They have been modified for cave use and are made up of two thin layers. The first is neoprene with bonded Kevlar threading. It will be waterproof, slippery, for any tight crawls, and tough as hell. It is the closest thing I’ve seen to flexible body armour. The second layer is for warmth and comfort and has internal battery-powered thermals. It is effectively a survival suit within flexible steel. The gloves and fitted boots also have hardened finger and toe tips and roughened grip pads. Frankly, I’m never giving mine back.”
Monica curled her gloved hand into a fist, watching it as a muscle bulged in her upper arm. She smiled at the suit’s flexibility and continued with her lesson.
“You will each have a modified helmet that is moulded to your head shape. Remember those security photos
