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MONTANA STATE COLLEGE, BOZMAN:
Alex Cave sits on the edge of his old wooden desk, looking at his second-year geology students while they head toward the door. He heaves a deep sigh at the thought of having to teach the same old material to his first-year students. The subject matter is becoming so routine, he can do it in his sleep. Ever since the Dead Energy operation, he yearns for the adrenalin rush of being on the hunt again.
David Conway waits until the last student walks out of the room before strolling over to Alex. He sees the nearly healed scar just above his left eyebrow. “What did you do last weekend to get so banged up?”
Alex grins. The physics student is like the little brother he never had. “Just a field trip, David. You never can tell when a few rocks might fall when you go underground.”
“Speaking of a fall, Greta Bernstein, the English Literature teacher, seems to be really interested in you. She keeps asking me if you’re gay, since you never accept her offer to go out on a date.” He notices the look in Alex’s eyes change to one of deep sorrow and realizes Alex is still mourning the death of his wife in Holland not too long ago.
“I’m sorry, Alex. Hey, listen. I thought you might find this interesting. Last night, I logged into one of NASA’s northern imaging satellites. It was taking pictures over the Arctic Ocean when a small section of ice suddenly changed color from white to clear.”
“That’s interesting. Could it be a refraction of the light through the ice?”
“It’s possible, but that’s not what it looked like to me. It took several seconds before the satellite moved out of range, but even when the angle changed, the ice was still transparent.”
“Have you contacted anyone who was watching at the same time?”
“I’ve been trying, but so far, no one has responded to my request.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
“I will.”
***
C.H.A.R.S., (CANADIAN HIGH ARCTIC RESEARCH STATION), CAMBRIDGE BAY, NUNAVUT:
Sonja Hanspevin studies the computer map and lightly shakes her head in wonder. One of the GPS unit on the Polar Ice Sheet north of Canada is flashing a warning. The elevation has just increased by two-hundred-meters in only three minutes. “This cannot be right,” she whispers with a strong Icelandic accent. The sudden increase in elevation has to be a mistake.
She enters a test procedure into the computer, and the data indicates the GPS unit is functioning correctly. She runs another test, and the data is the same.
She grabs her phone and enters the number for her District Manager, Peter Hendrix. “Hallo, Peter. We are getting a warning from GPS unit 2635. I thought the unit was malfunctioning, but I did two different tests and they are identical. I want to fly out to look for myself, but I need your approval for the helicopter.”
“Tom is scheduled to pick up the Regional Director at the airport in three hours. Can it wait until he returns?”
“I would rather not wait, Peter. We could have a serious problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“If the GPS unit is functioning correctly, the elevation of the ice sheet has gained two-hundred-meters in only a few minutes.” She waits for a response. “Peter?”
“I’m still here. That’s impossible. It has to be a malfunction.”
“There is only one way to find out. If it is a malfunction, I will exchange the unit and be back in time for Tom to pick up the Director, but we need to be sure.”
“Okay. I’ll call Tom and tell him you’re coming.”
“Thank you, Peter.”
***
Thirty minutes later, Sonja and the helicopter pilot, an American named Tom Hatfield, think they are seeing an illusion. Directly ahead, a two-hundred-meter vertical wall of transparent ice has risen out of the Arctic Ocean.
“Now that’s different.” Tom states.
Sonja is speechless as they close the distance to the ice wall. “Take us higher, Tom.”
Tom increases their altitude for a better view. From the higher elevation, they see the transparent ice sheet extends two-hundred-kilometers south into the Beaufort and East Siberian seas.
“This is not logically possible, Tom. We should find the GPS unit and retrieve the data. That will help us determine how this could happen.”
Tom gives her a nod and enters the new coordinates into the navigation system. “If all this happened as quickly as you say, I would imagine it made one hell of a wave.”
The surface of the newly formed ice sheet is as transparent as the sides, and Sonja’s heart breaks at the sight of dozens of white pilot whales frozen in the surface of the ice sheet. What could have caused the water to freeze that quickly?
When they approach the GPS unit, Sonja’s mouth opens. The unit is still mounted on top of the original white ice, but it’s as if a section of the original Polar Ice Sheet has been sheared off the end, and forced up into the air on top of the massive new sheet of clear ice.
Tom sets the helicopter down fifty-feet from the GPS receiver and brings the engine speed down to idle. Sonja climbs out to exchange the units and notices the air feels extremely cold. When the rubber sole of her shoe touches the ice, it immediately sticks to the surface, and she struggles to pull it free. When it tears loose, chunks of black rubber remained stuck to the ice. “What is going on?” she whispers.
She climbs back inside and looks at Tom, who saw what happened. “The ice is extremely cold. I do not think we should stay here. We will have to come back with different equipment.”
“Works for me.”
Tom shoves the throttle forward and pulls up on the collective, but the helicopter runners are frozen to the ice in a vice-like grip. He shoves the throttle forward to full power. When he pulls up on the collective, the vibration threatens to tear the helicopter apart, but the runners remain frozen to the ice.
“What’s wrong?” Sonja asks.
Tom lets go of the collective and pulls back on the throttle until the engine is idling. “I can’t break free. We’re stuck to the ice.”
“Can I do something to help?”
He shakes his head no. “If we can’t break free with the rotors, there’s nothing we can do.”
“Call for another helicopter to pick us up.”
“Are you kidding? No one else can land to get us. They would just be stuck, too. We’re trapped out here, Sonja.”
Sonja wrings her hands together on her lap while she tries to think of a way out of their situation. “Call the research station and tell them what happened. We have many intelligent people working at the facility. Maybe someone will think of a way to help us.”
Tom enters the research facility’s frequency into the radio and presses the button on the side of his headset. “CHARS research station, this is CHARS helicopter one. Come in, please?”
No one responds, and he tries again. After several minutes without a response, he changes frequencies. “This is the CHARS research helicopter calling anyone on the emergency radio frequency. Please, respond.”
Sonja and Tom wait in uneasy silence as Tom tries again, but the plea for assistance remains unanswered. “Something must be interfering with the radio signal, Sonja.”
“Do you have any survival equipment?”
“Not much. Spare water, a small supply of power bars, first aid equipment, and signal flares.”
“If we do not return to the station, they will send a search and rescue unit to find us.”
“Even if they do, they still can’t land to pick us up. Without radio communication, we don’t have any way to warn them about the ice. They’ll be stranded out here with us. When our fuel runs out, it’s going to get very cold in here.”
“How long do we have before that will happen?”
Tom looks at the digital readout. “Even leaving the engines at idle, we’ll run out of fuel in less than four hours, and without heat, we’ll be dead two hours later. I’m sorry, Sonja.”