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