Beneath the Ice Read Online Free Page A

the dome. Dr. Gwen James
had given the group a tour, showing them the sleeping quarters,
bathrooms, and galley. It was a tight fit. The six men—all navy
Seabees—were housed in one of the square buildings a few feet away
from the dome. The other rectangular structure Perry saw held food,
medical, and other supplies for six months. If things went well,
they would be on-site less than a third of that time.
    Heavy coats had been sloughed off, but warm
clothing was still the order of the day. Perry wore a white,
long-sleeved undershirt, thick pants, and boots. The others wore
something similar.
    With the parkas and thick, fur-lined hoods
gone, Perry could better see the faces of the others. Nonleadership
personnel had been asked to give the team leaders some space and
privacy. Perry, who always worked aboveboard with his crew and who
encouraged participation from every worker, felt guilty for sending
the others from the room, but on this trip, he wasn’t making the
rules.
    The room, with its dark, insulated dome
ceiling, made Perry feel like he was in a spacecraft. The furniture
was utilitarian, de-signed to be unfolded and set up on a moment’s
notice and with as little effort as possible. Everything about the
place was Spartan and indicated the hasty setup.
    Dr. Griffin James entered
the room last, noted where Larimore was
seated and took an open seat farthest away. Larimore studied him
for a moment, then smiled and offered a tiny nod. It wasn’t a
friendly gesture. Everyone who needed to be there was present. It
was time to get to work. Perry stood.
    “You’ve all received files on our mission,
including biographies for team leaders,” Perry began. “I expect you
have all reviewed them, but let’s introduce ourselves to make sure
we’re all on the same page.”
    “I get it,” Jack said. “It’s like a party,
and this is the icebreaker.”
    A few people groaned.
    “Wouldn’t want another misunderstanding,”
Dr. James growled.
    “No, we wouldn’t,” Perry responded, unfazed
by the snipe. “Since you spoke up, Dr. James, let’s start with
you.”
    “Everyone met me outside, remember?”
    Perry felt his patience with the man growing
thin. According to James’s personnel file, Griffin was thirty-two
years old, never married, and a rising star in his field. Perry
judged him to be five-ten and 160 pounds. His hair was sandy blond,
his eyes dark blue. His mouth turned down as if chiseled in that
position. Perry could tell Dr. James was a man who didn’t laugh
much.
    Griffin frowned then said, “Dr. Griffin
James, glaciologist, Ohio State—chief scientist.” He offered no
more.
    “Dr. James will provide guidance about the
ice and the problems we may face.” He smiled and nodded at Gwen
James. Her hair was dark, a shade lighter than Perry’s. Smooth,
alabaster skin covered a serious face. Unlike her twin brother, she
struck Perry as less impressed with herself. She took the cue.
    “ Dr. Gwen James, biologist, University of California, San
Diego . Griffin and I have been working on
subglacial bioforms. I’ve been retained to
monitor and record any discoveries indicating microscopic life. I’m
also the team paramedic. It’s not my forte, so stay healthy.”
    “Thank you, Dr. James,” Perry said, then
asked, “Since we have two Dr. Jameses, may we call you Gwen?”
    “That would be unprofessional,” Griffin
said.
    “Shut up, Griffin,” Gwen shot back. “It’s
not unprofessional, and it will go a long way to make communication
error free.”
    Perry pressed back the urge to smile. There
was fire in the woman, and, apparently, she was used to handling
her brother.
    Skipping over his own crew for the moment,
he turned to Larimore. “Commander?”
    Larimore sat up in his chair. “Commander
Trent Larimore, United States Navy. I oversee a team of six
Seabees. Our job is to erect the exploration module, maintain
environmental parameters, and generally be the life of the
party.”
    “Seabees?” Gwen