mreilly.icestation-第3章

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　Schofield　picked　up　his　radio。　〃Whistler　Two；　this　is　Whistler　One。　What　is　it？〃　
　〃Sir…〃　The　deep　voice　of　Staff　Sergeant　Buck　〃Book〃　Riley　was　suddenly　cut　off　by　a　wash　of　static。　Over　the　past　twenty…four　hours；　ionospheric　conditions　over　continental　Antarctica　had　rapidly　deteriorated。　The　full　force　of　a　solar　flare　had　kicked　in；　disrupting　the　entire　electromagnetic　spectrum　and　limiting　radio　contact　to　short…range　UHF　transmissions。　Contact　between　hovercrafts　one　hundred　yards　apart　was　difficult。　Contact　with　Wilkes　Ice　Station…their　destination…was　impossible。　
　The　static　faded　and　Riley's　voice　came　over　the　speaker　again。　〃Sir；　do　you　remember　that　moving　contact　we　picked　up　about　an　hour　ago？〃　
　〃Uh…huh；〃　Schofield　said。　
　For　the　past　hour；　Whistler　Two　had　been　picking　up　emissions　from　the　electronic　equipment　on　board　a　moving　vehicle　heading　in　the　opposite　direction；　back　down　the　coast　toward　the　French　research　station；　Dumont　d'Urville。　
　〃What　about　it？〃　
　〃Sir；　I　can't　find　it　anymore。〃　
　Schofield　looked　down　at　the　radio。　〃Are　you　sure？〃　
　〃We　have　no　reading　on　our　scopes。　Either　they　shut　down　or　they　just　disappeared。〃　
　Schofield　frowned　in　thought；　then　he　looked　back　at　the　cramped　personnel　partment　behind　him。　Seated　there；　two　to　each　side；　were　four　Marines；　all　dressed　in　snow　fatigues。　White…gray　Kevlar　helmets　sat　in　their　laps。　White…gray　body　armor　covered　their　chests。　White…gray　automatic　rifles　sat　by　their　sides。　
　It　had　been　two　days　since　the　distress　signal　from　Wilkes　Ice　Station　had　been　picked　up　by　the　U。S。　Navy　landing　ship；　Shreveport；　while　it　had　been　in　port　in　Sydney。　As　luck　would　have　it；　only　a　week　earlier　it　had　been　decided　that　the　Shreveport…a　rapid　deployment　vessel　used　to　transport　Marine　Force　Reconnaissance　Units…would　stay　in　Sydney　for　some　urgent　repairs　while　the　rest　of　her　group　returned　to　Pearl　Harbor。　That　being　the　case；　within　an　hour　of　the　receipt　of　Abby　Sinclair's　distress　signal；　the　Shreveport…　now　up　and　ready　to　go…was　at　sea；　carrying　a　squad　of　Marines　due　south；　heading　toward　the　Ross　Sea。　
　Now　Schofield　and　his　unit　were　approaching　Wilkes　Ice　Station　from　McMurdo　Station；　another；　larger；　U。S。　research　facility　about　nine　hundred　miles　from　Wilkes。　McMurdo　was　situated　on　the　edge　of　the　Ross　Sea　and　was　manned　by　a　standing　staff　of　104　all　year　round。　Despite　the　lasting　stigma　associated　with　the　U。S。　Navy's　disastrous　nuclear　power　experiment　there　in　1972；　it　remained　the　U。S。　gateway　to　the　South　Pole。　
　Wilkes；　on　the　other　hand；　was　as　remote　a　station　as　one　would　find　in　Antarctica。　Six　hundred　miles　from　its　nearest　neighbor；　it　was　a　small　American　outpost；　situated　right　on　top　of　the　coastal　ice　shelf　not　far　from　the　Dalton　Iceberg　Tongue。　It　was　bounded　on　the　landward　side　by　a　hundred　miles　of　barren；　windswept　ice　plains　and　to　seaward　by　towering　three…hundred…foot　cliffs　that　were　pounded　all　year　round　by　mountainous　sixty…foot　waves。　
　Access　by　air　had　been　out　of　the　question。　It　was　early　winter；　and　a　minus…thirty…degree　blizzard　had　been　assailing　the　camp　for　three　weeks　now。　It　was　expected　to　last　another　four。　In　such　weather；　exposed　helicopter　rotors　and　jet　engines　were　known　to　freeze　in　midair。　
　And　access　by　sea　meant　taking　on　the　cliffs。　The　U。S。　Navy　had　a　word　for　such　a　mission：　suicide。　
　Which　left　access　by　land。　By　hovercraft。　The　twelve…man　Marine　Recon　Unit　would　make　the　eleven…hour　trip　from　McMurdo　to　Wilkes　in　two　enclosed…fan　military　hovercrafts。　
　Schofield　thought　about　the　moving　signal　again。　On　a　map；　McMurdo；　d'Urville；　and　Wilkes　stations　formed　something　like　an　isosceles　triangle。　D'Urville　and　Wilkes　on　the　coast；　forming　the　base　of　the　triangle。　McMurdo…farther　inland；　on　the　edge　of　the　enormous　bay　formed　by　the　Ross　Sea…the　point。　
　The　signal　that　Whistler　Two　had　picked　up　heading　back　along　the　coast　toward　Dumont　d'Urville　had　been　maintaining　a　steady　speed　of　about　forty　miles　an　hour。　At　that　speed；　it　was　probably　a　conventional　hovercraft。　Maybe　the　French　had　had　people　at　d'Urville　who'd　picked　up　the　distress　signal　from　Wilkes；　sent　help；　and　were　now　on　their　way　back。。。。　
　Schofield　keyed　his　radio　again。　〃Book；　when　was　the　last　time　you　held　that　signal？〃　
　The　radio　crackled。　〃Signal　last　held　eight　minutes　ago。　Range　finder　contact。　Identical　to　previously　held　electronic　signature。　Heading　consistent　with　previous　vector。　It　was　the　same　signal；　sir；　and　as　of　eight　minutes　ago　it　was　right　where　it　should　have　been。〃　
　In　this　weather…howling　eighty…knot　winds　that　hurled　snow　so　fast　that　it　fell　horizontally…regular　radar　scanning　was　hopeless。　Just　as　the　solar　flare　in　the　ionosphere　put　paid　to　radio　munications；　the　low…pressure　system　on　the　ground　caused　havoc　with　their　radar。　
　Prepared　for　such　an　eventuality；　each　hovercraft　was　equipped　with　roof…mounted　units　called　range　finders。　Mounted　on　a　revolving　turret；　each　range　finder　swung　back　and　forth　in　a　slow　180…degree　arc；　emitting　a　constant　high…powered　focal　beam　known　as　a　〃needle。〃　Unlike　radar；　whose　straight…line　reach　has　always　been　limited　by　the　curvature　of　the　Earth；　needles　can　hug　the　Earth's　surface　and　bend　over　the　horizon　for　at　least　another　fifty　miles。　As　soon　as　any　〃live〃　object…any　object　with　chemical；　animal；　or　electronic　properties…crosses　the　path　of　a　needle；　it　is　recorded。　Or；　as　the　unit's　range　finder　operator；　Private　José　〃Santa〃　Cruz；　liked　to　put　it；　〃if　it　boils；　breathes；　or　beeps；　the　range　finder'll　nail　the　fucker。〃　
　Schofield　keyed　his　radio。　〃Book；　the　point　where　the　signal　disappeared。　How　far　away　is　it？〃　
　〃About　ninety　miles　from　here；　sir；〃　Riley's　voice　answered。　
　Schofield　stared　out　over　the　seamless　expanse　of　white　that　stretched　all　the　way　to　the　horizon。　
　At　last　he　said；　〃All　right。　Check　it　out。〃　
　〃Roger　that；〃　Riley　responded　immediately。　Schofield　had　a　lot　of　time　for　Book　Riley。　The　two　men　had　been　friends　for　several　years。　Solid　and　fit；　Riley　had　a　boxer's　face…a　flat　nose　that　had　been　broken　too　many　times；　sunken　eyes；　and　thick　black　eyebrows。　He　was　popular　in　the　unit…serious　when　he　had　to　be；　but　relaxed　and　funny　when　the　pressure　was　off。　He　had　been　the　Staff　Sergeant　responsible　for　Schofield　when　Schofield　had　been　a　young　and　stupid　Second　Lieutenant。　Then；　when　Schofield　had　been　given　mand　of　a　Recon　Unit；　Book…then　a　forty…year…old；　highly　respected　Staff　Sergeant　who　could　have　had　his　choice　of　assignment　within　the　Marine　Corps　establishment…　had　stayed　with　him。　
　〃We'll　continue　on　to　Wilkes；〃　Schofield　said。　〃You　find　out　what　happened　to　that　signal；　and　then　you　meet　us　at　the　station。〃　
　〃Got　it。〃　
　〃Follow…up　time　is　two　hours。　Don't　be　late。　And　set　your　range　finder　arc　from　your　tail。　If　there's　anybody　out　there　behind　us；　I　want　to　know。〃　
　〃Yes；　sir。〃　
　〃Oh；　and；　Book；　one　more　thing；〃　Schofield　said。　
　〃What？〃　
　〃You　play　nice　with　the　other　kids；　you　hear。〃　
　〃Yes；　sir。〃　
　〃One；　out；〃　Schofield　said。　
　〃Whistler　Two；　out。〃　
　And　with　that；　the　second　hovercraft　peeled　away　to　the　right　and　sped　off　into　the　snowstorm。　
　
　
　
　An　hour　later；　the　coastline　came　into　view；　and　through　a　set　of　high…powered　field　glasses　Schofield　saw　Wilkes　Ice　Station　for　the　first　time。　
　From　the　surface；　it　hardly　looked　like　a　〃station〃　at　all…　more　like　a　motley　collection　of　squat；　domelike　structures；　half…buried　in　the　snow。　
　In　the　middle　of　the　plex　stood　the　main　building。　It　was　little　more　than　an　enormous　round　dome　mounted　on　a　wide　square　base。　Above　the　surface；　the　whole　structure　was　about　a　hundred　feet　across；　but　it　couldn't　have　been　more　than　ten　feet　high。　
　On　top　of　one　of　the　smaller　buildings　gathered　around　the　main　dome　stood　the　remains　of　a　radio　antenna。　The　upper　half　of　the　antenna　was　folded　downward；　a　couple　of　taut　cables　the　only　things　holding　it　to　the　upright　lower　half。　Ice　crusts　hung　off　everything。　The　only　light；　a　soft　white　glow　burning　from　within　the　main　dome。　
　Schofield　ordered　the　hovercraft　to　a　halt　half　a　mile　from　the　station。　No　sooner　had　it　stopped　than　the　port…side　door　slid　open；　and　the　six　Marines　leaped　down　from　the　hover…craft's　inflated　skirt　and　landed　with　muffled　whumps　on　the　hard…packed　snow。　
　As　they　ran　across　the　snow…covered　ground；　they　could　hear；　above　the　roar　of　the　wind；　the　crashing　of　the　waves　against　the　cliffs　on　the　far　side　of　the　station。　
　〃Gentlemen；　you　know　what　to　do；〃　was　all　Schofield　said　into　his　helmet　mike　as　he　ran。　
　Wrapped　in　the　blanket　of　the　blizzard；　the　white…clad　squad　fanned　out；　making　its　way　toward　the　station　plex。　
　
　Buck　Riley　saw　the　hole　in　the　ice　before　he　saw　the　battered　hovercraft　in　it。　
　The　crevasse　looked　like　a　scar　on　the　icescape…a　deep　crescent…shaped　gash　about　forty　meters　wide。　
　Riley's　hovercraft　came　to　rest　a　hundred　yards　from　the　rim　of　the　enormous　chasm。　The　six　Marines　climbed　out；　lowered　themselves　gently　to　the　ground；　and　cautiously　made　their　way　across　the　snow；　toward　the　edge　of　the　crevasse。　
　PFC　Robert　〃Rebound〃　Simmons　was　their　climber；　so　they　harnessed　him　up　first。　A　small　man；　Rebound　was　as　nimble　as　a　cat　and　weighed　about　the　same。　He　was　young；　too；　just　twenty…three；　and　like　most　men　his　age；　he　responded　to　praise。　He　had　beamed　with　pride　when　he'd　overheard　his　lieutenant　once　say　to　another　platoon　mander　that　his　climber　was　so　good；　he　could　scale　the　inside　of　the　Capitol　Building　without　a　rope。　His　nickname　was　another　story；　a　good…natured　jibe　bestowed　upon　him　by　his　unit　in　reference　to　his　less　than　impressive　success　rate　with　women。　
　Once　the　rope　was　secured　to　his　harness；　Simmons　lay　down　on　his　stomach　and　began　to　shimmy　his　way　forward；　through　the　snow；　toward　the　edge　of　the　scar。　
　He　reached　the　edge　and　peered　out　over　the　rim；　down　into　the　crevasse。　
　〃Oh；　shit。。。。〃　
　Ten　meters　behind　him；　Buck　Riley　spoke　into　his　helmet　mike。　〃What's　the　story；　Rebound？〃　
　〃They're　here；　sir。〃　Simmons's　voice　was　almost　resigned。　〃Conventional　craft。　Got　somethin'　in　French　written　on　the　side。　Thin　ice　scattered　all　about　underneath　it。　Looks　like　they　tried　to　cross　a　snow　bridge　that　didn't　hold。〃　
　He　turned　to　face　Riley；　his　face　grim；　his　voice　tinny　over　the　short…range　radio　frequency。　〃And；　sir；　they's　pretty　fucked　up。〃　
　
　The　hovercraft　lay　forty　feet　below　the　surface；　its　rounded　nose　crumpled　inward　by　the　downward　impact；　every　one　of　its　windows　either　shattered　or　cracked　into　distorted　spider…webs。　A　thin　layer　of　snow　had　already　embarked　upon　the　task　of　erasing　the　battered　vehicle　from　history。　
　Two　of　the　hovercraft's　occupants　had　been　catapulted　by　the　impact　right　through　the　forward　windshield。　Both　lay　against　the　forward　wall　of　the　crevasse；　their　necks　bent　backward　at　obscene　angles；　their　bodies　resting　in　pools　of　their　own　frozen　blood。　
　Rebound　Simmons　stared　at　the　grisly　scene。　
　There　were　other　bodies　inside　the　hovercraft。　He　could　see　their　shadows　inside　it　and　could　see　star…shaped　splatters　of　blood　on　the　cracked　windows　of　the　hover