will freeze within you and you
She paused to let her words sink in. “Okay, I want you to take a look at the equipment I have spread out here. In a few minutes we’ll go over their uses. Any questions so far?”
Smirking, Sven, one of the mercenaries, raised his hand. “Is it true you were the youngest woman to climb Everest?”
“No, that is not true.”
Miller nudged Sebastian. “She was the youngest to climb Everest
The group broke up as individual members checked out the equipment they were expected to use—ice axes, tents, stoves, safety harnesses, ropes, thermarests, neoprene water bottles and several types of first-aid kits for various illnesses and trauma.
Lex noticed that the mercenaries—readily identifiable by the khaki parkas they wore—were pretty much ignoring the equipment. They were either experts at cold-weather survival or just arrogant. Lex wanted to know which.
She crossed the deck to Adele Rousseau, who was cleaning a handgun.
“Seven seasons on the ice and I’ve never seen a gun save someone’s life,” Lex began.
Rousseau looked up. When she spoke, there was a hint of amusement in her blue eyes.
“I don’t plan on using it,” the blond replied.
“Then why bring it?”
Rousseau shrugged. “Same principle as a condom. I’d rather have one and not need it then need it and not have one.”
She tucked the weapon into her belt and thrust out her hand. “I’m Adele.”
“Lex.”
“I’m glad that you decided to stay.”
Lex shrugged. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
Adele was about to reply when there was a noise like an explosion. The ship shuddered and lurched violently to starboard, tossing men to the deck. Miller was thrown backwards, against the rail. He nearly tumbled over the side, but Lex, standing near Adele, caught him just in time. Miller looked up at her through thick glasses.
“This is getting to be a habit.”
Lex tossed her wavy dark hair. “Doesn’t mean I have a thing for you.”
“Oh, you hide it well, Ms. Woods, but I know.”
Another massive impact shook the
“Everybody off the deck please!” he commanded. “We have hit the ice pack. Return to your cabins, secure everything that is not nailed down. Quick as you can, people….”
The reinforced steel bow struck the ice pack again. The ship lurched before plowing through it with a sound like ripping metal. Miller and Thomas became anxious.
“Nothing to worry about,” Captain Leighton declared. “This ship is an icebreaker by name and nature. She can take it, and she can dish it out.”
When the deck was cleared of all but essential crewmen, Captain Leighton climbed the superstructure until he reached the bridge. He found his executive officer at the helm, as well as Max Stafford and Charles Weyland, who were studying the data spewing out of the navigational system.
“Holding steady at five knots, sir.”
“Very good, Gordon.”
Charles Weyland approached the skipper. “How soon to landfall?”
Leighton glanced at the Breitling on his wrist. “At this speed I should say within two hours.”
Weyland nodded, his jaw tense.
“Let’s get our people ready, Max. I want to disembark as soon as we arrive.”
Two hours later, the
On the bridge, Captain Leighton directed Charles Weyland’s attention to the three mountains in the distance, a snowcapped gray-brown blot on an otherwise moonlit, snow-white terrain.
“The closest one is Olav Peak—the whalers used to call it the Razorback. Not much of a mountain compared to Vinson Massif or Erebus, but whalers used Razorback as a navigational beacon in the days when such trade was still profitable.”
Weyland gazed through the lens of an AV/PVS-7 lightweight, high-performance passive image intensifier system. These military-issue night-vision goggles turned the Antarctic twilight into day.
“You’ll find your whaling station in the mountain’s shadow,” Leighton continued. “I’m sorry I can’t take you closer, but the draft is just too shallow.”
Weyland scanned the distance until he spied the cluster of buildings a few miles away from the foot of the mountain. The whaling station was at least ten miles away—too far to make out much detail.
“You’ve done enough, Captain,” said Charles Weyland. “Just don’t go home without us.”
CHAPTER 9
The Predators were awake now, and active. Naked, their pale, mottled flesh still gleamed from their immersion in the pool of primordial ooze. Five powerful beings swaggered onto the starship’s bridge, their eyes gleaming with innate intelligence.
Computer monitors flickered all around them as red, green and violet ripples of energy pulsed throughout the chamber. The cybernetic brain’s voice—a constant, sibilant hiss like the sound of an angry rattlesnake—greeted its masters with an endless barrage of data. The bridge itself was dominated by a wide window that offered an awesome view of the planet Earth.
Silhouetted against a backdrop of the blue-green planet shimmering below, one of the figures ran a talon over a crystalline control panel. With a whizzing pop, an airtight section of the wall opened to reveal suits of gleaming body armor, five demonic face masks, a plethora of weapons, and an array of short-barreled, shoulder-mounted cannons.
Wordlessly, the creatures girded themselves for the coming battle.
Moving with mechanical efficiency, the Predators draped flexible mail-clad netting over their pale, hard- muscled arms and broad, barrel-like chests. Segmented battle armor was snapped into place, sheathing thick, corded arms and powerful legs. Reinforced boots, loin-plates and chest protectors followed. Then a bulky mechanism was attached to each creature’s forearm, just below the elbow joint. A similar device was strapped to their right wrists.
One of the creatures tested the mechanism. With a simple jerk of its sinewy arm, a long, curved, razor-sharp telescopic blade deployed with a soft snick. The formidable hunter examined the honed edge of the blade, then grunted in satisfaction.
Next came a ridged metal backpack attached to shoulder armor, with a built-in mount and power cables for a plasma cannon. Then the flat, heavy face masks were donned. Each mask was different, yet every one obscured its wearer’s full face—except the burning eyes and the dangling, metal-tipped dreadlocks.
Finally, a computer was linked to each Predator’s left wrist. Upon activation an LED display flickered, and, with a sudden hiss, the armored joints sealed to become airtight. Warm, humid air flooded the interior of the body armor, an atmosphere that mimicked the conditions of the Predators’ home world.
