Sokolov looked puzzled. “Why in the world would you be filled with dread? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know. This whole talk you’re giving me just seems, in some ways, reminiscent of the introduction to a horror movie. Frankenstein probably thought his research was interesting as well.”
Sokolov remained emotionless for a moment, working out how he should react. Then he chuckled just a little. “Really, Doctor, the comparison is in no way appropriate. We are not trying to create anything new or monstrous. We are, however, very pleased and excited to have an opportunity to examine and analyze something totally unique. Something pre-existing but never seen by civilized man before. Who knows what secrets lie hidden beneath our very feet—and more importantly, what the knowledge of them can mean to the evolution of modern technology. Science, medicine, history, even economics for that matter—all may be transformed by what we find in this frozen little corner of the world. That is what drives us to be here and to tolerate the isolation, cold, and other negative aspects of this spartan existence. Who knows, Doctor? Perhaps school children will read your name from a textbook in the not too distant future; which I mention in case that sort of thing appeals to you.”
Francis risked another sip of tea. It didn’t actually taste that bad. “It doesn’t. I would prefer to be wealthy and anonymous. So far you haven’t indicated that either are a likelihood. And textbooks are quickly becoming obsolete. Not to change the subject too abruptly, but this tea is rather good. I thought all things Russian tended to lean toward mediocrity.”
Sokolov frowned for a brief instant. “You are too kind. The tea tastes good because of the water I brewed it with. We melt ice from core samples that are not of interest because they are from a timeline that we have already analyzed. This water is from a time when modern man did not even exist, nor was there pollution of any kind. It is entirely pristine, you see.”
Hamlin shifted his position as if it had become uncomfortable. In point of fact, it had. “So what is there to analyze besides ice? Why do you need a microbiologist so desperately in this lifeless place?”
“That is indeed the crux of the matter. Let me explain. Several years ago, space based technology allowed a scan of Antarctica that confirmed something startling and once totally unexpected. Under this station lies a lake, which has been named after the station itself. We have extended our drilling aspirations to include eventual access to the lake water itself.”
Francis stared incredulously. “Lake? What do you mean? If you mean a large body of frozen water, then surprise, that’s the same as an ice sheet.”
Sokolov looked slightly smug. “Not at all. Lake Vostok, one of the ten largest lakes in the world, is beneath nearly four kilometers of ice under our current position. And let me assure you, it is as liquid as the waves that lap the beach along the Jersey shore.”
For the first time, Francis started to forget his self-induced physical malady. “How is that possible? Why wouldn’t it just freeze solid under there? Is it saline?”
“No, Doctor, it is not. The exact answer to your question is, as of yet, not totally known. One aspect is pressure—sitting under several kilometers of ice creates a tremendous amount of pressure. We think this is a factor. Also, there appears to be an elaborate labyrinth of interconnecting channels that allows the water to move from one place to another. Perhaps that movement also contributes to keeping the water in liquid form. There may also be a geothermal component to this mystery. At any rate, and more to the point, we need a microbiologist because we are about to break through and gain access to the lake itself. Then there will be much analysis to be done. It is possible, if not likely, that some form of life exists down there in the cold waters.”
Francis felt an intrigue that was undeniable. “Life deep under the ice. Now that’s interesting.”
“Yes, Doctor—life that has been separated from the surface world for perhaps millions of years. Imagine that appearing under the lens of your microscope!”
It was a fascinating scenario. “When do you expect to actually break through?”
Sokolov paused for some dramatic effect. “It is not possible to be absolutely precise in our estimations. As you can perhaps imagine, things go wrong in this climate. People get tired quickly and machinery tends to break down in the extreme cold. Having said that, however, a best case scenario would see us breaking through later today.” It was like placing a bomb, and the diminutive man looked for a reaction as it went off in Hamlin’s mind.
Francis ran a hand through his hair. “Great. And I picked last night to get shitfaced. Sorry.”
Sokolov raised his eyebrows. “Sorry for what? The drinking or the profanity?”
“Retrospectively, both. Listen, can I get a quick shower and then check out your lab facilities? I’d like to be ready when the first sample comes in.”
“Excellent! Your enthusiasm confirms that you were the correct choice for this research. I would be most happy to direct you to the showers, then to give you the tour of the area in which you will be working for the next few months. The housing may be lacking in aesthetics, but the equipment is top notch. I think you will be pleased.”
“Cool. Literally. Speaking of temperatures, you do have hot water here I hope?”
“My good doctor, I do not think many people could or would tolerate a cold shower after exposure to Vostok’s frigid temperatures. There is plenty of hot water. Feel free to indulge.”
Under the false hope that he could accumulate enough residual heat to keep himself comfortable once he went outside, he did just that.
“Are you absolutely certain?” The chancellor frowned in disapproval.
Hamlin sighed deeply. “Yes. I’m sorry Richard, but I’d be absolutely no good to the expedition.”
“Hmm.” The white-haired man tapped his index finger on the top of his desk. “This really was tailor made for you. Another opportunity like it will be very hard to find.”
“I know.” Hamlin stared blankly at the ceiling. “I feel like I’ve had my life scraped back to the bare bones. It’s like starting over again in every way. I must confess, I feel lost.”
The chancellor grunted as he readjusted his seating position. “Be that as it may, you still need a plan for living your life. If you don’t go to Africa, then what will you do? I’m not sure I’d recommend a sabbatical for someone in your position. It may be therapeutic to have a focus and keep busy. Have you given any thought to what will take the place of going to the Congo?”
“I still have my krill research. I could work on putting it together. I believe it still has some validity.”
The chancellor nodded. “Good. That’s a start. You can use any of our facilities. I could even offer you funding for an assistant if required.”
Hamlin shook his head. “I think not; at least not now. Let me get back into this on my own and establish a good work pattern. Once I get my feet under myself, perhaps I’ll be ready to inject some extra life into this project. It will also depend on how my theories mesh with the preliminary data. I’ll keep you posted.”
Hamlin seemed quite ensconced in this line of thinking. All other options had apparently been lined up against a wall and executed.
“Very well, then. Do keep me apprised of how the work is proceeding.”
Francis stood to leave. “I will, Richard. Thanks for your understanding.”
And so the first brick was laid in the repair of what had once been a complete foundation. At the end of it all, Hamlin hoped he would have a life once again. He certainly wasn’t there yet.