Chapter 11

 

 

The snowmobile’s motor sputtered to a stop in the equipment bay where Perry had found it the day before. The bay seemed warm, but Perry knew it was just the absence of the chilling wind, a wind he had been facing for too long. He was breathing hard, his joints ached, and his muscles burned.

He waited for Griffin to dismount then swung his own leg over the snowmobile. It felt good to stand, and he would have taken his time stretching, but he had other things on his mind. Without a word, Perry left the bay, rounded the Dome to the entrance, and plunged in.

His skin felt like it had caught fire when the heated air struck him. He knew that by most standards, the room was cool, but the difference from the outdoor temperature made the sixty-degree compartment seem like an oven.

“Gleason,” Perry called out. No reply. Jack, Griffin, and Larimore poured through the door.

“No welcome-home party?” Jack asked.

Perry shrugged then called out again. “Gleason? Sarah?”

“Maybe they’re in the Chamber,” Larimore offered.

“Here comes someone,” Jack said. Perry looked down the narrow hall that led to sleeping cubicles. Gwen was approaching. Even in the dim light of the building, they could see that something was wrong.

Griffin stepped forward. “What’s wrong, Gwen? We tried to raise you on the radio, but—”

Gwen walked past her brother straight to Perry. Her face was drawn and colorless.

“Gwen?” Perry began.

“Um,” she said, “Gleason would like to see you in the back.”

Perry studied her for a moment, recognizing abject fear when he saw it. He removed his gloves and started down the corridor. He heard the others behind him. To either side were the small rooms that served as private berths. In the very back was the restroom—the head, as Larimore called it. The Dome had two bathrooms; the worker dormitory had one large facility. The rooms were small and had been built as modular units that could be easily assembled on-site. Since the rooms were modular, they contained only two toilets separated by a curtain and two small sinks. A simple cabinet held typical bathroom items. Team members took showers in a separate room.

Slipping into the small space, Perry found Gleason and Sarah hunkered down, staring into the cabinet. Gleason was sweating, something Perry hadn’t seen anyone do since arriving in Antarctica. Seeing Perry enter, Sarah stood and stepped aside. Like Gwen, she was pale.

“What’s wrong, Gleason?” Perry asked softly as he approached.

“See for yourself.”

Perry dropped to one knee and peered in. His mind seized at the sight.

“Tell me it’s just a really ugly spider,” Jack said, his humor unconvincing.

“I wish,” Perry said. “It’s a bomb, and its counter seems stuck.” Perry studied the device. It looked like a lump of gray clay with an electronic clock stuck on top. The clock showed four red numbers—00:00.

“Kinda makes you wonder why we’re still here, doesn’t it?” Gleason said. His throat sounded dry. Perry couldn’t blame him.

“Better let me have a look at that,” Larimore said. Gleason moved aside to give the commander some room. He lowered himself to a knee beside Perry. What followed was a series of curses and oaths strong enough to peel paint. He took several deep breaths, calmed himself then said, “C-4 plastic explosive. Enough to destroy the Dome. I’ve used this stuff to clear construction sites in battle conditions.”

“Why hasn’t it gone off?” Perry asked.

“I don’t have an answer.” Larimore shifted to two knees, placed both hands on the floor, and moved closer.

“Is it wise to get that close?” Griffin asked from his place in the doorway.

“If it goes off now, Doc,” Larimore said, “a few inches won’t make a difference. I’ll be scattered over the ice.”

“We’ll be scattered over the ice,” Sarah added.

Perry rose and looked at the others. He was calm, focused, but felt his body shutting down. He recognized it as a defense mechanism. Emotions were useless at this point, something the others must have realized, too, since he could detect no panic, just controlled terror.

“Okay, I think it’s best if everyone goes into the Chamber. That’s as far away as we can get without being outside. Griffin, you lead the group. Make some room behind the remaining wood crates. I don’t know that they will provide much protection, but as far removed from this site as they are, they might help.”

“What are you going to do?” Jack asked. “I’m not leaving you here to baby-sit a bomb.”

“Not to worry,” Perry said. “I have a job for you and Gleason.”

“Oh goodie,” Gleason said. “I was afraid you were going to leave me out.”

Perry addressed Larimore. “Can you disarm this thing?”

He shook his head. “Normally, I’d say yes, but the counter has me spooked. If it were still counting down, I’d just pull the detonator wire from the C-4. No electricity, no boom. But the fact that the counter is at zero makes me think there may be a short somewhere. If I pull the wire, I may bridge that short, then it’s bye-bye, everybody.”

Perry blew a steady stream of air through his lips. “In that case, I want you to go with the others.”

“I’m not deserting my post,” Larimore said. “I’ll take my chances with you.”

“I appreciate that, but the team will need a leader if things . . . don’t go well. I need Jack and Gleason to help me try something.”

“Forget it,” Larimore said. “I’m staying.”

“So much for chain of command,” Jack said.

“You can file a grievance from the Great Beyond if we’re killed,” Larimore quipped. “I can tell when a man has a plan. What are you thinking?”

“It may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever considered,” Perry said, “but here’s what we’re going to do.” He explained his thoughts and was greeted with thick silence. “Anyone have a better idea?” No one did. “Okay then, let’s do this.”

 

Gwen struggled to keep tears of frustration in check. Everyone around her was as calm as if they had received news no more important than the mail had arrived. She wanted to scream, to run, to give in to the near irresistible panic. She fought the urge. At the moment, her mind was the most important tool she had. Emotion could be released later.

“Let’s go,” Griffin said, taking his responsibility seriously and marching back down the corridor.

Gwen followed on his heels with Sarah on hers. A sense of guilt percolated within her. She felt as if she were running to hide while brave people remained behind.

“Perhaps we can help,” she said to her brother.

He shook his head but didn’t turn around. “Perry’s no pal of mine, but he knows more about this kind of thing than we do. I’ve learned one thing about him: He is resourceful. Besides, it does no one any good if we all get killed.”

“You’re all heart,” Sarah snapped.

“I’m all brain, ma’am, and right now we need more brain than emotion. The best thing we can do is get out of the way.”

Gwen wished she could do more, but she knew Griffin was right. If the bomb killed Perry and the others, and she survived, at least she could tell the story—assuming Antarctica didn’t kill her first.

 

Perry left Larimore to study the bomb more and helped Gleason, who was using a wrench to remove the bolts that held the exterior panel to the Dome’s geodesic skeleton. They had power tools, but Perry was afraid they would create a vibration that would be transferred to the bomb’s electronics. If Larimore was correct and a loose or broken wire had created a short, then a vibration or any movement might set it off. The explosive had to be moved, but Perry was determined to minimize that as much as possible.

Gleason worked rapidly but with great care. Each movement was the result of directed thought. Perry held the panel as Gleason finished removing the bolt. As he did, Perry heard a noise just beyond the wall. Jack had arrived on schedule.

Slowly, Perry pushed the lightweight composite panel out and felt it tugged away by Jack. The frigid wind that had been their adversary blew through, a weaker version of what they had endured over the last fifteen hours.

The air bit at his face and bare hands. He pulled his gloves from his pockets and quickly slipped them on as Jack set the panel to the side. Behind Jack was the snowmobile he had ridden less than an hour before.

“Good work, Jack,” Perry said. “Gleason is going to help you with the rest.”

“Come, Glees, ol’ boy,” Jack said. “Let’s show Perry how to customize a snowmobile.”

Gleason gave a nervous chuckle and stepped through the new opening. Perry returned to the lavatory and saw Larimore seated cross-legged on the floor. “I assume from the draft that you were successful.”

“The remodeling is underway,” Perry said. “Anything new?”

“No,” Larimore said. “I’ve been playing with ideas, but I’m not thrilled with any of them.”

“Let’s hear them.” Perry stepped around and saw the electronic clock still frozen at zero.

“I was thinking that we could join the others in the Chamber and just wait for the battery to run down. There’s a small battery pack on the back of the package.”

“Dead battery means no explosion,” Perry said. “But you dismissed that idea?”

“Yeah, I did. The clock doesn’t draw that much energy, so the battery could last days, maybe weeks.”

“I have clocks at home that run for months before I have to replace the batteries.”

“Precisely,” Larimore said. “I don’t think we could live that long with this thing and remain sane. Most likely it would go off before the battery was drained.”

That had occurred to Perry as well. “Gleason tells me the batteries are missing from the base’s radios, too. There’s a good chance that one or more of them are on the bomb.”

A tearing sound floated in on the wind. Perry was glad to hear it. It was almost time.

“It’s tempting,” Larimore said.

“What?”

“To reach in there and just pull out the wires. It might work.”

“We’d better stay with the plan. The less we move the wires the better off we are.”

“I hope you’re right,” Larimore said.

“I pray I’m right,” Perry replied.

Gleason reappeared. “The chariot awaits,” he said.

“Okay,” Perry said. “You and the commander should make your way to the Chamber and join the others.”

“I’d rather stay,” Gleason said.

“I can’t risk it, buddy,” Perry said. “The others are going to need you if things go bad. Besides, I’m nervous enough. The fewer distractions I have, the better.”

“So now I’m reduced to a distraction.”

“You know what I mean,” Perry said.

“Yeah, I do,” Gleason said. He put a hand on Perry’s shoulder. The gesture was simple, but the communication was profound.

“Get out of here, Gleason, and take this navy swab with you.” Larimore started to protest, but Perry cut him off. “I insist, Commander. The fewer people around, the better this will go.”

Larimore rose and extended his hand. Perry shook it. “God-speed, Perry.”

Perry replied with a silent nod. The two left, and Perry stepped to the opening. “Time for you to beat feet, pal.”

Jack’s expression became serious. “Sorry, I can’t hear you.”

“I said it’s time for you to head to the other dome.”

“Too much wind. I can’t make out a word you’re saying. Besides, there’s a twelve-inch drop from the floor to the ice. The Dome is raised to allow room for insulation, remember.”

Perry remembered. He also knew that Jack was hearing every word. “I can do this alone.”

“What?” Jack raised a hand to his ear.

Perry shook his head. He could force his will on almost anyone but Jack. Jack made up his own mind about things. Perry glanced over his friend’s head and saw the snowmobile two yards away from the Dome. He could also see strips of gray duct tape running from the handlebars to the side of the vehicle, locking the steering in a straight direction. On the seat was a cardboard box with the words Canned Beef printed on the side. Jack must have snatched the box from the galley on his way to retrieve the snowmobile. Another strip of duct tape hung limply from the throttle.

“What say we stop wasting time,” Jack said. “You hand me the package, and I’ll deliver it.”

There would be no arguing with Jack, and time was slipping by. It was time to act. Perry shook his head and returned to the bathroom, bent over, and placed his hands on the side of the gray brick that he knew to be one of the most powerful explosives around. If the bomb went off in Perry’s hands, there would be no pain, no awareness of his failure. Nor would there be much of him to bury.

“It is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment.” The Bible verse made him wonder if his appointed date had arrived. Images of his father and friends flashed into his mind. He smiled. He planned to live a very long time, but if his life ended in the next second, it didn’t matter. It had already been a great life.

Perry closed his hands on the bomb and lifted it from its place in the cabinet. He was surprised he was still alive. “Step one,” he whispered to himself then turned toward the door, moving slowly, thinking about every step before he took it. Five steps later he was facing the cold blast of wind as it shot through the recently made opening. Jack stood just outside, his normally jovial face drawn tight. The wind whipped the fur lining of his hood, but Jack stood solid as a rock.

“I think I can do this myself,” Perry said as he approached the opening.

“Just give me the thing,” Jack said. “The sooner this is over, the better I’ll feel.”

“Even if we get blown to tiny little bits?”

“Yeah, I hear Heaven is real nice this time of year.”

“Any time of year,” Perry said. The conversation helped keep him calm and focused. Bending at the waist, Perry handed the deadly device to his closest friend and felt guilty the moment he did. He should have found some way to make Jack leave.

“Got it,” Jack said. “Not as heavy as I thought it would be.” He turned and took a step toward the idling snowmobile.

“I don’t suppose I should remind you that you’re walking on ice.”

“Thanks, chum. Up until now I didn’t have anything to worry about.”

Perry waited until his friend was a few steps away, then he jumped the short distance to the ice. Jack moved very slowly. Perry jogged around him, giving him a wide berth, and reached the vehicle first. He watched Jack take a step, twisting his foot from side to side to make sure of his footing before taking another. It was like watching someone walk underwater—excruciatingly slow. Perry used the time to double-check the system Jack had set up on the snowmobile. Duct tape ran from the handlebars to the body. The cardboard box was also secured with the tape. The flaps had been torn off, leaving just the four sides and the bottom. Perry hoped the famous fix-it-all tape could stand the abysmal temperatures a little longer.

Jack arrived and gently set the explosive device in the box, pushing it to the rear—a good idea, Perry realized. If the bomb slid, then it might explode while it was close enough to do real damage.

Jack released his grip and took a step back. “Your turn.”

Perry nodded, took the piece of tape that dangled from the accelerator handle, and turned the handle enough to rev the engine just above idle. Then he secured the tape.

“Now the scary part,” Perry said.

“The other part wasn’t scary?”

“Step back,” Perry ordered, and to his surprise, Jack did.

Perry reached forward, dropped the snowmobile in gear, and prayed that it wouldn’t lurch. The engine chugged a moment, wanting more fuel, but then slowly pulled away. Perry had no desire to play spectator. He sprinted for the opening with Jack a step behind. When he reached the hole in the wall, he dove through it and rolled forward on the floor. He heard a thud behind him. His big friend had taken the same approach.

Staggering to their feet, they turned and watched the snowmobile crawl along the ice.

“How far do you think it will go?” Jack asked.

“There’s some rough ice a hundred yards or so ahead of it. If Larimore—”

The slow-moving vehicle erupted into a ball of fire. Perry and Jack hit the floor and covered their heads.