mreilly.icestation-第3节

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speed　into　Cox's　chest；　driving　him　underwater。　
　Austin　began　to　swim　frantically　for　the　water's　edge。　As　he　swam；　his　head　dipped　below　the　surface　and　suddenly　his　ears　were　assaulted　by　a　cacophony　of　sound…loud；　shrill　whistles　and　hoarse；　desperate　barks。　
　The　next　time　his　head　surfaced；　he　caught　a　glimpse　of　the　ice　walls　surrounding　the　pool　of　water。　He　saw　large　holes　set　into　the　ice；　just　above　the　surface。　They　were　exactly　the　same　as　the　ones　he'd　seen　down　in　the　ice　tunnel　before。　
　Then　Austin　saw　something　e　out　of　one　of　the　holes。　
　〃Holy　Christ；〃　he　breathed。　
　
　Hideous　screams　burst　across　the　inter。　
　In　the　radio　room　of　the　ice　station；　Hensleigh　stared　in　stunned　silence　at　the　blinking　console　in　front　of　her。　Beside　her；　Abby　had　her　hand　across　her　mouth。　Terrified　shouts　rang　out　from　the　wall…mounted　speakers：　
　〃Raymonds！　〃　
　〃He's　gone！〃　
　〃Oh；　shit；　no…〃　
　〃Jesus；　the　walls！　They're　ing　out　of　the　fucking　walls！〃　
　And　then　suddenly　Austin's　voice。　〃Get　out　of　the　water！　Get　out　of　the　water　now！　〃　
　Another　scream。　Then　another。　
　Sarah　Hensleigh　grabbed　her　mike。　〃Ben！　Ben！　e　in！〃　Austin's　voice　crackled　over　the　inter。　He　was　speaking　quickly；　in　between　short；　shallow　breaths。　〃Sarah；　shit；　I。。。　I　can't　see　anybody　else。　I　can't。。。　They're　all。。。　they're　all　gone。。。。〃　A　pause；　and　then；　〃Oh；　sweet　Jesus。。。　Sarah！　Call　for　help！　Call　for　anything　you　ca…〃　
　And　then　a　crash　of　breaking　glass　exploded　across　the　inter　and　the　voice　of　Benjamin　Austin　was　gone。　
　
　Abby　was　on　the　radio；　yelling　hysterically　into　the　mike。　
　〃For　God's　sake；　somebody　answer　me！　This　is　station　four…zero…niner…I　repeat；　this　is　station　four…zero…niner。　We　have　just　suffered　heavy　losses　in　an　underwater　cavern　and　request　immediate　assistance！　Can　anybody　hear　me？　Somebody；　please　answer　me！　Our　divers…oh；　Jesus…our　divers　said　they　saw　a　spacecraft　of　some　sort　in　this　cavern；　and　now；　now　we've　lost　contact　with　them！　The　last　we　heard　from　them；　they　were　under　attack；　under　attack　in　the　water。　。　。　。〃　
　
　Wilkes　Ice　Station　received　no　response　to　their　distress　signal。　
　Despite　the　fact　that　it　was　picked　up　by　at　least　three　different　radio　installationss。　
　
　
　FIRST　INCURSION　
　16　June　0630　hours　
　
　The　hovercraft　raced　across　the　ice　plain。　
　It　was　painted　white；　which　was　unusual。　Most　Antarctic　vehicles　are　painted　bright　orange；　for　ease　of　visibility。　And　it　sped　across　the　vast　expanse　of　snow　with　a　surprising　urgency。　Nobody　is　ever　in　a　hurry　in　Antarctica。　
　Inside　the　speeding　white　hovercraft；　Lieutenant　Shane　Schofield　peered　out　through　reinforced　fiberglass　windows。　About　a　hundred　yards　off　his　starboard　bow　he　could　see　a　second　hovercraft…also　white…whipping　across　the　flat；　icy　landscape。　
　At　thirty…two；　Schofield　was　young　to　be　in　mand　of　a　Recon　Unit。　But　he　had　experience　that　belied　his　age。　At　five…ten；　he　was　lean　and　muscular；　with　a　handsome　creased　face　and　closely　cropped　black　hair。　At　the　moment；　his　black　hair　was　covered　by　a　camouflaged　Kevlar　helmet。　A　gray　turtleneck　collar　protruded　from　beneath　his　shoulder　plates；　covering　his　neck。　Fitted　inside　the　folds　of　the　turtleneck　collar　was　a　lightweight　Kevlar　plate。　Sniper　protection。　
　It　was　rumored　that　Shane　Schofield　had　deep　blue　eyes；　but　this　was　a　rumor　that　had　never　been　confirmed。　In　fact；　it　was　folklore　at　Parris　Island…the　legendary　training　camp　for　the　United　States　Marine　Corps…that　no　one　below　the　rank　of　General　had　ever　actually　seen　Schofield's　eyes。　He　always　kept　them　hidden　behind　a　pair　of　reflective　silver　antiflash　glasses。　
　His　call　sign　added　to　the　mystery；　since　it　was　mon　knowledge　that　it　had　been　Brigadier　General　Norman　W。　McLean　himself　who　had　given　Schofield　his　operational　nickname…a　nickname　that　many　assumed　had　something　to　do　with　the　young　Lieutenant's　hidden　eyes。　
　〃Whistler　One；　do　you　copy？〃　
　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　surfac