Hayes was impressed. “You know, I spent an hour on the horn today with the geologists and they didn’t come up with that.”
“I have a question for you by way of return, General,” said Henry.
“Okay,” said Hayes. “Ask away.”
“How did they get that image of the bottom of the ice shelf? How the hell did they know the size and shape of that chunk that fell off?”
“HAARP,” Hayes replied. “That’s H-A-A-R-P.”
“What’s HAARP?” asked Sarah.
“A secret,” said Grimes, tapping his boot on the table leg.
Henry laughed. “That’s one of your favourite phrases, I’ll bet.”
“Yup,” said Grimes.
Sarah was listening to the banter with growing disgust. “Is this some kind of testosterone thing?”
Henry looked at Grimes. “It’s no secret — or, at least, if it is I’m not duty bound to keep it. Sheeit, we’re on the USS Enterprise. I’d say that’s pretty secure.” He turned back to Sarah. Something about her expression awoke the animal in him again. This seemed to be happening fairly regularly, and it bothered him. “Besides, I’m the official bean-spiller on this ship. Isn’t that right, General?”
Hayes lit a cigar and smiled. “I admire a gentleman who knows his place in the world, Henry.”
Henry looked at Sarah. Whether it bothered him or not, he did like looking at Sarah. And now he had a good excuse.
“HAARP, as I understand it, is the code name for an experiment with low-frequency radio waves being conducted somewhere in Alaska. The feds say it’s auroral research, to do with the ionosphere and the northern lights. Others say it’s a global communications device that could screw up the ozone layer more. But the scuttlebutt is that the thing can see through solid matter — right through the earth, if you wanted.”
Sarah looked at the general. “With radio waves? Wouldn’t that have to be awful y powerful? Is that safe?”
Henry continued to smile at her, hoping his smile wasn’t turning into a leer. “Powerful? Yes. Safe? Nope.”
Grimes righted his chair and stood up. He adjusted his belt over his belly and walked across to the coffee machine.
The general, noticing the glance Grimes had given Henry, said, “Comments from the SEAL?”
“Give a fuck, sir,” said Grimes.
“What’s that?” asked the general.
“Sorry, sir,” said Grimes. “They got us penned up in here. I want to know what’s going on out there. This shit is driving me nuts!”
“I hear you, Kai,” said Hayes. “Trouble is, the Commander-in-Chief is ‘thinking about the situation’.
That means nothing is going on. So you may as well enjoy the break. Sit down and stir your coffee. For all you know, it could be the last one you’ll ever get.”
Henry had a bone to pick with someone about how the admiral was treating him. Was he butting heads with politics or did these military lifers have a hard-on for anyone outside their semper fi fraternity? Of course, he knew that, when it came down to basics, it was all politics.
That’s why he loved the ice. Cool, deep and eternal.
People came and went… shit, whole species came and went. But the ice, the deep ice, was a forever thing. And it didn’t give a goddam. Henry thought about the wind. He knew it like a person. He even had names for its personalities. He respected the wind. It carried material from all over the world, and ultimately, after sifting out all the big stuff, it gave what it had left over to the Antarctic snows, there to be entombed until the debris eventually found its way back to the sea… millions of years later. The wind was the courier of the world. It brought and it took. Like an animal or a plant.
Henry never talked about all this except to his dog Sadie. He never discussed his private relationship with the polar wind. It would sound too crazy, especial y coming from a meteorologist. Now he wanted to tell Sarah. But how would he explain himself if her response was to suggest he talk to a shrink about it? Blame it on the continent. It had something to do with the strange days at the South Pole that saw the sun walk the horizon until finally, once a year, it just didn’t set at all. Like the day was struggling to have a mind of its own. The ice, the wind, all the elements of this lonely continent — they were like living things. Antarctica was a place where the elemental forces that drive the earth could be seen and, perhaps, understood. On the ice, Henry was able to pul back and see the nature of the big things that drive our days. The sun, the weather, the wind. It was easy to see why our ancestors worshipped the elder gods.
At midnight everyone was still awake and in the mess, acting as though the phone would ring at any moment. Finally it did. It affected the people in the room like a small earthquake. Everybody jumped.
General Hayes picked up the phone, listened for only a moment, then hung up.
“Briefing,” he said. “Now.”
The admiral hadn’t been sleeping either. The com reeked of tobacco smoke.
“I thought this was a No Smoking area, sir,” said Sarah, coughing and waving her hand to clear the air.
Schumacher ignored the remark, just pointed to the screen. A sailor punched a button on the console below. Suddenly Henry found himself answering questions about his work on the ice. Then the admiral asked him to recount his entire story. When he had finished, Schumacher handed the sailor a floppy disk. In moments, the images Sarah French had made of the three men were displayed on three individual smaller screens behind the main plotter. The faces had no definition or distinguishing features.
“This is the best you can give us on the guys who tried to kill you?” said the admiral.
“Yes, sir. I’m not holding back,” said Henry. “That’s not them, but I can’t exactly remember their faces. But I’d know them if I ever saw them again. I was with them for only a minute, then I was shot and left for dead. I can remember them but I can’t describe them.”
“Mr Gibbs,” said a voice from the ether. Henry looked around the room, but no one seemed to have spoken. For a moment he thought God himself was talking to him.
“This is the President of the United States, Mr Gibbs,” announced the voice. “I want to thank you for relating your story to all of us here.”
Henry looked at the general, who nodded to him, urging him to say something.
“I…” was all he could manage before the President’s voice continued.
“I’m not sure you know this, Mr Gibbs, but I’m listening to your story with… with some gentlemen from the United Nations.”
The voice, now that Henry knew, was definitely recognizable as the President’s. He looked around the room. Everyone was grinning at him.
“I’ll do what I can to help, sir. But the fact is, I did see them for just that couple of minutes. I’m sorry I can’t describe…”
“Mr Gibbs,” interrupted the President, “we know that. But it was important that the representatives of the countries of the world present here today heard your story for themselves. Do you understand?”
Henry stood dumbfounded. “Yes, sir.” A moment ago he had seen himself alone out on the ice; now he was under the scrutiny of the world. He couldn’t begin to find words to say.
“We will leave you to your work now, gentlemen,” said the voice. “And Mr Gibbs, I know I speak for all of us here when I thank you for helping us stop world terrorism.”
There was a loud click and the room fell silent.
Admiral Schumacher took Henry’s hand. “Gibbs, we’re all proud of what you’ve done. I want you to know that.” He looked around the room. “Where’s that dog of yours? We don’t want to lose track of him. He’s a valuable witness too, you know.”