Snow audibly thudded against the window, jumping in and out of the streaks from floodlights that surrounded the compound. Erin searched her thoughts for clarity - but found little other than the dull ache of worry.
It had been two weeks since the ping. She was wondering why they hadn’t gone back to the site some 73 miles due south of the most remote British research base in the Antarctic.
Erin, a PhD postgraduate of Durham University, had submitted her interest to join the British Arctic Survey two years prior. Her application had been successful on the grounds that her knowledge of satellite radar techniques was second to none. Her paper on glacial collapse was so positively peer reviewed that NASA had contracted her to deep dive into the mass of data their IceBridge project had been collating.
Her hair was auburn, her green eyes striking. But it was her infectious smile and enthusiasm that captured the mood of those around her. She solved problems, and she did it with a warm glow that inspired people.
Yet, today, as the compacted snow and ice began to build up on the cill of her sleep pod’s triple-glazed window, she felt the pang of concern. Today didn’t feel like it was going to go well. Her data had stopped making sense and the field trip was rushed.
The British Arctic survey hadn’t historically been affiliated with the U.K. Space Agency, but that had changed when military spending began to focus its attention on space capability. There had been an extreme interest in subterranean mapping - and Erin had been called upon to lead a team apparently hunting for untapped rare minerals in the most inhospitable continent on earth. It wasn’t technically legal under international law - but under the guise of science many of the world’s powers had prospected the antarctic.
She rolled out of her sleeping cot, pulled on her thermals and arcticwear, and reached for the intercom.
“Control, come in.” She said.
“This is Ritter, good of you to get up, Doc.” Said the man’s voice, she could hear the grin.
“F*ck off you Dutch bastard, some of us need our beauty sleep.” She said, smiling right back.
The survey mission comprised eight scientists and two support crew - one of which was security. Four women, five men and an American non-binary colleague, Charlie. It was a tight crew - they were all smart, funny and kind people. In the time they’d spent together, they had formed a deep bond - there was a lot of love amongst them. Respect was mutual for the important work they were doing - but it went beyond that.
They were doing genuinely incredible work, possibly historic - the Antarctic was a bellwether for global climate patterns. Its layers of ice sheets also held records of the planet’s history - preserved without human impact. Their group often joked that they were kindred spirits, pulled together by fate at random to fix climate change.
“Any pings this morning from home about the field trip?” She said.
“Yes, in fact, I was about to call you. We are all here. Something’s come up. Can you join?” Ritter added.
She cleaned her teeth, swilled some peppermint mouthwash about her mouth - washing away to remnants of the last night’s liquor - and quickly fashioned some makeup. Erin wasn’t vain, but she appreciated glamour in moderation. When she was done, she threw on her white tee and jeans - then bolted to the ops pod. It was a few hundred yards away through connecting modules and tunnels.
On her way to the ops pod she passed the mess, several other habs and labs, and she was joined my Mercer and Kepler - as they both made their way to the meet up. Mercer was the site physicist and Kepler the polymath - a double doctorate in both physics and biochemistry. IQ scores didn't do their intelligence justice.
It doesn't matter, though, men always keep a small part of them that's thick as pig shit. Erin always chuckled to herself.
“Intrigued by today? I am. We’ve not had to put together a schlep this quickly before. I’ve also been pouring over the data and still think we’ve been hacked.” Said Kepler.
“I veeceed Professor Barrington last night at Brasenose. He laughed and told me the cold was getting to the instruments. We're encrypted through the orbitals - to the hilt. But GRACE hasn’t made a mistake to date. Why now? Anyway his signal went a bit so I agreed to wire him the field trip findings.” Added Mercer.
Erin said little. She just nodded. If the data from NASA’s gravity programme was looking spurious - how could she explain the radar. For two world class satellite sensor platforms to break at the same time was not just unprecedented - it was improbable. For a scientist - that was unsettling, to say the least. Especially in context of the data.
All three survey scientists buzzed into the ops pod with their fobs - helped themselves to coffee and pastries, picked up a tablet and smart pen each, and took a seat next to the giant, state of the art, computerised table.
Ritter, mission lead, was stood by the smart board, speaking on the sat phone via a pair of Bower & Wilkins headphones. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but she did lip read the odd word and saw a confused facial expression.
“Why… makes no sense….how can I explain….no glitches…” Ritter mouthed.
She took a large nonchalant bite of her pastry and swigged a mouthful of muddy, grainy coffee. Turning to her female colleague Hendricks - who’d sat to her left - she gave an exaggerated wink, mouth full of pastry soggy pastry.
Pastries were only laid on when the team had to stomach a tough ask. It had happened a couple of times on the mission - when the supply plane was rerouted, when the Russian mission released an almost identical paper 24 hours before the British survey - a thesis they’d spent weeks compiling; also when the team had been told their rotation for Christmas had been cancelled.
Ritter hung up his call, raised a fist pump to Tate, who’d just entered to his left, their expression was of aloof interest. Sam had been binary since they were 19 and, now, 28, they’d been one of the most confident and vibrant personalities Erin had ever met. Diversity had been talked about a lot, but when she lived in it, it just felt normal to Erin - not faked or artificial as it sometimes did back in the U.K. Sam didn't police their identity - they were kind.
“Ok ok vagrants, backs straight, pastry crumbs wiped from cheek and jowl. Defecation is about to hit wind turbine en masse.” Said Ritter - in the odd way he spoke, with his entertaining twang.
The group sat up, spun their stools and tapped, prepping their tabs to view the briefing.
“As you all know.” He continued, swiping a presentation onto the giant smart table - mini projections showed a sat view of the continent.
“Today is go day for the furthest field trip we’ve had to date. And this one? It comes straight from the top peeps.” He added.
“Kepler, do you want to tell us again about GRACE, what did the docs say in Oxford?” He said, waving a hand in the direction of Dr Kepler - with whom Erin had briefly spoken en route to the ops room.
“Morning all. Thanks Rit.” Kepler started.
He was a tall Baliol college Physicist and the complete academic; early thirties, handsome, with thin rimmed glasses, messy curly light brown hair, and a clean shaven chin.
Like all the scientists bar Erin, he wore the survey issue long sleeve branded thermals - with big working-arms bulging through. There was little to do in the Antarctic after chores and work, so the team had managed to get pretty torn on smart workout tools like Fightcamp, Peloton and Mirror. Erin had crushed on Kepler a lot, but she’d managed to resist buzzing his pod for a fling. She wondered why. Flings were par for the course on mission. She’d slept with two of the other team - including Tate. She suspected Kepler was relationship material. She also suspected he wouldn’t take too kindly to being used. So she’d put down her thoughts for the duration of the mission. It was just his arms she got off on.
“Seven days ago, GRACE - which is NASA’s grav-sat, which has been mapping differential gravity rates across the planet - beeped over the Arctic. It had picked up what appeared to be the lowest grav zone on the planet.” He sipped his coffee and with a swipe and a tap, slung a graphic over the aerial image on the smart table.
“As you can see, the zone is just over 70 miles from here. And it’s pretty small. Just one square mile in size.” He sipped more coffee, quickly bit, chewed and swallowed some pastry as he swiped more on his tab.
“I briefed you on this and said I’d dig into the data and yeah, shit. This had me up all night. I’ve gone all the way to the brain himself back at campus and we are stumped. Nothing checks out on the math.” He processed for them.
“Lower grav zones aren’t unusual, as you know- yada yada, the earth’s core, mass, science etc. As I’ve told you already. But what is odd is the speed with which this zone popped up. And the weirdly abnormal shape and size of the zone. It falls outside known norms.” He said, naturally pausing - sensing questions.
“What shape is it? Said Tate, leaning in and biting a nail, subconsciously glancing at the remains of what had been nibbled.
“Great question Sam. Ok, so brace yourselves. It’s a perfect square. Not a blob, not a circle - a perfect square. I mean: huh.” He said, leaning back letting the others absorb.
“Square?!” Exclaimed Paterson, the Swedish seconded junior. In realty Paterson was in the top one percent of intellects on the planet - far from an intern. She was an attractive dark haired woman, with a slim figure. Her eyes shone blue and she rarely smiled. She wore her hair braided - she definitely had viking genes.
“This makes no sense. Nature does geometry a lot, but gravity doesn’t. Why would a gravity dip form a square.” She added, blinking her eyes and cocking her head flirtatiously at Kepler. Erin picked it up and made a face to herself, she was sure Ana was not holding back on her own crush for Kepler. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if stuff had happened. Ana was no wallflower. She shook off the thought and sipped coffee as cover for the teenage conversation she was having with herself.
“It makes no sense. Before I go deep on that, I want Porter to dive into her data.” Kepler replied.
Porter. ‘Um, that’s me’ Erin’s brain said to herself.
“Thanks Kep.” She said, quickly gaining her faculties and burying the internal conversation her crush was having.
“So Kep brought me this data and what was even weirder was the IceBridge data. NASA are really killing on capability for these instruments by the way.” She said, smiling - the group loved her charm and everyone apart from Ana broke into a smile, but late.
“I freaked, because the radar data also changed for that area. I’ve definitely mapped it before. And what showed was a fairly solid geology. A valley, a lot of mountain structures. So when we passed the latest IceBridge data through as well, the radar showed slightly different geology. And yeah, that doesn’t happen without tectonics. So why? Glitch then, glitch after? Or fact?” She added.
“Whatever is happening out there - it’s probably worth going to get eyes on, anyway. But I don’t think we have an option.” She concluded. Then she noticed that Stevens wasn’t in the room. Just as she mentally noted that fact - the head of security for the party entered the room, nodding in both apology and greeting to Ritter.
“Nice of you to join us, Joe.” Said Ritter.
“Rit, everyone.” Said Joe Stevens with a nod. He was a gruff type, but had a calm manner and was clearly there to keep everyone safe. Safe from penguins? Erin thought had been that bit more serious in the last 72 hours - ever since they got the orders back from the U.K.
“Erin is correct. We don’t have any choice - in fact, since our mission is essentially a British government operation - you could say we’ve now got orders.” Said Ritter
“Continue please Erin.” He added, sipping from his mug of coffee and glancing at Stevens, who’d calmly unlocked his tablet and removed his stylus from a pocket on the arm of his thermals.
“There’s no point me bullshitting you. What appeared to be solid sedimentary rock is now gone. It’s a cavern. Or at least that’s what the radar is telling me. I would say it could be a sink hole - but here? And square? It just doesn't add up.” She said, as she swept a bang of hair behind her ear and twisted her stylus in her fingers before tapping more on her tablet.
The smart table showed before and after pictures - colours defined the different rock types and a key slid alongside the graphic. The survey’s scientists began tapping and interfacing with the map and data.
“That should in itself be cause for enquiry - coupled with the data from GRACE, it screams wrong. Just wrong. Is it someone else doing something they shouldn't?” She continued.
Everyone around the table was lost in thought. There were no further questions - just furrowed brows and a lot of swiping and double tapping.
“So do we have any working hypotheses?” Said Paterson.
“Yes.” Said Kepler, pausing.
“We think the instruments are both incorrect - but for a different reason.” He said.
“What?” Replied Paterson curtly.
“Mass.” He said, with a face that bordered on smug, knowing that the word was an innuendo for this crew.
“So you’re saying that the gravity in the fringe of the seventh continent on this planet has changed at the same time as a vast cavern turns up - because of a reduction in mass? How?” Paterson added.
Kepler paused. Sipped his tea and glanced across at Stevens.
“He knows.” Said Kepler.
The scientists all began to look between each other. Only Stevens seemed unperturbed by the causal accusation.
“Steady folks. Steady. It might be time we got the whole truth out. Come on, Steven’s. Tell them why an ex-SBS Colonel is running security on a seemingly innocuous scientific mission on a giant island that makes minus-100 feel like getting colder.” He said.
Stevens leant forward. Tapped twice on his tablet - and began speaking.
“Before I speak I’d like to remind you that as part of your contractual non-disclosure obligations you may recall that you’ve technically also been bound by the Official Secrets Act.” He smiled at Erin, who’d nodded. She’d recalled reading it and assuming it was to do with some of the military transport, technology and data sharing.
“Well, two years ago MI6 picked up a tip off that the Russians were working on something big. That they had a new super weapon. We assumed it was nuclear or hypersonic. That is, until this data turned one of the more far fetched concerns into a realistic one. A team at Porton Down, our leading research facility, have been working on a live theory for some time now. White Holes.” He said. Lifting his tea and taking a gulp.
No one said anything and Kepler began to slowly shake his head.
“As you’ll know, and no doubt scoff at me for repeating to a room full of PhDs, a black hole has such high gravity - nothing can escape, not even light. Our boffins believed they’d proven that the reverse effect may also be true. That somehow a white hole can repel or emanate matter and screw positively with the force of gravity.” He added.
“And when this data began to circulate - things escalated. It got to eyes in the know and they think that’s what this is, folks. I expect governments to take paranoia mildly seriously. But I believe in science and if the data shows anomaly we just investigate.” Interrupted Kepler.
The room went silent. Jefferson and Myers, the resident climate change experts had yet to speak, glanced furtively at each other. Myers shuffled and spoke first. She was of Indian descent, dark eyed, tall, rugged and always wore her hair in a pony tail.
“You are seriously suggesting that something completely novel to science is happening. Just like that. And we will be the first to verify it?” She said sarcastically.
“I’m struggling here. We have a day job and then in the space of 72 hours we’re government operatives investigating phenomena new to physics. Ha! It’s X-Files, not climate change - bring me Mulder and Scully. More bullshit to distract me from my work. Which is actually real, proven and not currently endangering my life.” She added.
“Kiara is right. This is dumb. If this is what they say it is. It’s a military and intelligence operation. Not the job of a handful of academics and a washed up special forces trooper.” Jefferson said.
“Sorry Stevens.” She added, shrugging and grinning at him.
“No offence taken, Jeff - I'm definitely washed up.” Stevens struck back.
Jefferson was the daughter of the UK's most prominent black MP, and her mother was a French scientist. To say her skin tone was perfection was an understatement. Erin had long harboured a total jealousy of the woman's brown eyed charm - a peer who also happened to be a globally respected geologist.
Shit are they having sex as well, thought Erin. Honestly, am I taking this meeting seriously enough? She mocked herself, a small grin curling at the edge of her mouth - were anyone to have noticed.
“And, well, you’re right. That’s why HMS Albion was ordered from her training around the Falklands three days ago and will be here tomorrow. She has a platoon of our best mountain warfare marines with her; a Merlin and a Chinook. And goodness knows what else.” He added. Noting the team’s slack jaws.
“What you’re all forgetting is your basic military tactics. When you need something secured - getting there before other prying eyes is critical - and we are the only assets on the ground. So yes. We go. And I keep you safe. You know I have a weapons locker. And really big arms.” He said.
“Stevens is right. We are the nearest and have the best diplomatic position. It would be a risky thing to land marines here - but a rescue mission for a survey team - that’s cover. Come on people. A bit of excitement and adventure just hit our desk. They might even bring more Jaffa Cakes.” Said Ritter.
We're definitely all going slowly crazy here. Erin thought.
The meeting broke with little further talk, and the team used the time they had as efficiently as possible. These kinds of ops were regimented in terms of protocol. They'd all trained on them before heading south. The support crew at base had prepped everything - all they needed to do was leave. It took 53 minutes to get underway.
We may be crazy, but we're the best. Erin noted.
When they got under way, they made good time. Navigating the known crevasses in good time. They had clement weather on their side and, in spite of the urgency of their mission, haste didn’t reduce speed - they'd planned for a five hour journey and had gear to stay there.
“Ritter. Come in.” Said Stevens from the lead snowmobile.
“Yip, this is Rit”. He answered from his.
“We’re two clicks out. As per plan, suggest we setup here, below the rise of this outcrop. And proceed on foot.” Stevens said, in what Ritter knew was an operational order.
“Understood.” He said.
“Jeff, Claude - time you climate goons pitch base here by the ice dell. Everyone else - circle the bikes and we go on skis from here.” He said on an open channel.
The group each did as instructed and left the two scientists to pitch the hi vis tents and get the base in order. They’d agreed to stay on site for a few days - at least until the marines arrived.
“Now we go see what’s over the hill!” Piped Kepler. As the remaining group glided towards the map reference on snow covered skis.
It didn’t take them long to get within eyesight of the area. In fact if it hadn’t been daylight, they’d have already seen it in the dark. On top of the co-ordinates sat what looked like a huge bubble. Rock, ice and aggregate floated within the sphere - gently bumping into itself. And what looked like a fountain gently pushed more material in the air from the floor. The surrounding area seemed to pulse. As if the gravity had started decaying and the snow was trying to jump into the air. It looked like someone had dropped a square skyscraper directly into deep powder snow.
As the team got closer, they felt the odd sensation of gravity change. Within moments they were talking about and trying to learn to space walk - covering yards with a single stride.
“This is crazy!” Said Erin, giddy with joy at the strange emotions.
The entire team was lost in the sensation for a time, forgetting why they were there, until a voice cut across the comms.
“Heads in the game, folks. The fact you’re enjoying this and it isn’t freaking you out is nice, but we just physically experienced history and I’m gonna need you back in the fucking game.” Said Stevens.
“Let’s get back to solid grav and get the instruments out.” He added, skipping back the way they’d came, dragging a couple by the arm.
The scientists followed, as instructed and began setting up their kit. It felt like an eternity compared to the journey to the anomaly.
"Geiger reading a-ok. We're not at risk." Said Erin over comms.
"That's good, thanks Erin, double check please keep it on passive scan for the duration." Said Kepler.
Erin took the Geiger and placed it on the special plastic spike they had - it nestled in the snow and beeped, as would periodically until the mode was turned off.
“Ok. Base is up, Rit. You’re good.” Said Claude, breaking the silence from over the rise. Claude was Belizian, the country's first Oxford PhD. He specialty was magnetism and UV light. She was dark skinned, and smiled a lot. She was also the team's most fun residence - there wasn't a song she couldn't sing and dance to with a hair brush on a cold Sunday.
Before Erin could turn her head to speak to Peterson - something caught her eye. It was a body.
Holy shit. The Z! Erin's inner voice screamed before her mouth could.
"Stevens, alarm - I see a body, I see a Z trooper - he's Russian. This is the fucking Russians, everyone back." She said.
"Copy that, hurry". Said Stevens, leaping fast towards the body. As his civilian colleagues retreated back towards camp - he took in the approach.
The body was partially covered in snow and clad in green camouflage - it was on the edge of the area most effected by the gravity anomaly. He noted that it trooper's fatigues had blackened battle scars, a congealed wound to the shoulder and an ammunition belt slung about its shoulders.
Did that guy just breathe! Stevens thought.
Quickly scoping the surroundings and deciding this trooper was alone and had no living support, he decided to approach.
He lifted his pistol, and walking like an astronaut across the moon, tried to settle next to the body. Kicking it over was like kicking a balloon - it floated, a fraction of its weight.
Eyes looking at me! Eyes with fear and confusion.
"It's a live one - Jesus h. A live one. Myers- come here, now." Said Stevens.
"I'm freaking out here - what the hell do you need me for!" Screeched Myers.
"I want to go back, I want to go back. I want to go back to base - this is too much. We should go, we should go back NOW." Myers babbled. Her voice betraying a mountain of raw emotion.
What the hell have HQ not told me, here. What is this. Stevens thought.
"Myers, deep breathe, get over here now. This is a Russian man in need of medical attention. You are the base medic and you speak Russian, correct?" Stevens said, calmly - his combat training had already taken over.
"Ok, ok - what the fuck is going on." Said Myers. She headed to Stevens, stumbling like a toddler in the affected gravity.
As she crouched over the body she began speaking calmly to it, and singing a Russian lullaby - the words were terrifying and hard to pronounce, used as a training mechanism for advanced learners - but the melody was beautiful.
"Assault failed... Generals.... sent me... breakthrough wrong place... squad blew up... shot by their Marines..." Muttered the soldier in Russian, as Myers' brain translated and he slowly hunted down the wound Stevens had seen. The blabbering continued for a few minutes.
"Ukrainians, Americans.... know. Have to abort...." Whined the soldier in Russian, quietly.
"I have a few Ruski words, Doc, he's saying he's been in an assault - he said Ukraine, right?" Said Stevens. He could in fact speak fluent Russian, but he realised doing that right now might send his civilians teams into a spiral of panic and mistrust.
"RIGHT?" Said Stevens louder when Myers didn't immediately answer, nudging him with his hand.
"Correct" Said Myers.
This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't happening. Myers' thought.
After Myers had applied a bandage and given the Soldier a thermal injection, pain meds and a thermal blanket, they dragged him towards the team on a medical sled Myers had unfolded.
Two hours later
"Where am I, who the fuck are you - where's my squad? When did it snow in summer?!" Said the soldier, rousing fast, he looked at the four faces just above him. He was incoherent, but far from psychotic.
"We're scientists with the British Antarctic Survey, you're safe, and your wound is dressed." Said Myers, smiling at him, having calmed herself enough to be professional. The huge with Stevens had helped, of course.
She was interrupted quickly by Stevens, he leant over, cocked his pistol and drew his hunting knife from his utility belt.
"And you are now a ghost, so you'd better start fucking talking to me now, before our marines arrive or my patience runs out and I start carving bits off you." Said Stevens in perfect Russian.
These Russians, they'd sooner surrender than fight - i'll let him keep his pride, but he wants out. I have to know fast if there are more. Thought Stevens, his jaws clenching at the cheek.
The scientists looked at each other, one made to speak, but Stevens raised a hand to stifle their thoughts.
"You better hear me kid, I've got a Ukrainian family staying with my wife, I don't like Razist Z fuckers and i'd gladly cut your cock off right now and let you freeze in a fountain of your own pissing blood." He said, clutching a bunch of the mans fatigues and lifting him.
He's going to kill me. I don't care any more. I don't care. The soldier thought.
"I claim the right of asylum as a Russian citizen, my name is Daniil Sokolov, of the 7th Guards Mountain Assault division, born in Yamalia. I denounce the fascist Putin and will answer any question you have. Just leave my cock alone you fucking pig." He said in pained Russian, retaining some dignity and pride.
Stevens released his fatigues, and the man slumped. He passed him a thermal flask with hot tea in it, the man sat up and drank, shivering. He knew that he had to let the Russian speak next, the first words out of the mouth of a defector were always the most valuable.
"It must have malfunctioned. Is there anyone else here?" Daniil said, Stevens and Myers both shook their heads to the first question.
"The transponder, the tungsten-looking cube - is it here, is it here?" Sokolov added. His Russian voice twanging and echoing across the quiet barren snowscape.
"I was the first through - pathfinder." He added.
Jesus god, is this what I think it is, Stevens brain wandered fast.
He clicked his finger and all the group looked up.
"Listen up - Ritter, Peterson, Erin - get back over the hill - you're looking for an object dull steel looking - a cube. Heavy". He said. All three immediately made for the top of the hill and set to find this object.
"You've been in an assault group - on the lines?" Stevens said. The Russian nodded, coughing.
"New technology, Novikov Device." He muttered.
"They'll find me, satellite chip." He added, pointing at his arm.
Stevens dropped to his knees, and calmly pulled up the Russian's sleeve. There, under his skin, he saw a pill-shaped lump. He thumbed it and, without a moment's hesitate, removed the hunting blade from his utility belt and carved the pill from the man's arm. He took off his gloves, and with bloodied fingers, snapped the pill in half, extinguishing the battery and chip. He placed the remains into a small plastic evidence bag and stashed it in his chest pocket.
He didn't even flinch. These Ruskis are made of iron - built for pain. Stevens observed.
"If they're on their way, they're on their way." Stevens said, and the two men nodded to each other.
He pulled his long range comms unit from his backpack and tapped in the high alert code.
"This is Alpha-Zulu 72, GDIU recon, GDIU recon, request best speed for liaison. Am in possession of an Echo and High Value Asset. Personal Tracking device destroyed, risk of contact has increased. Over" He said.
A moment passed, then the radio produced some static.
"Alpha-Zulu 72, this is GDIU recon. Made good time, landfall at base by helo imminent. Relief inbound. Confirm civilian staff are safe please. You're instructed to collect intelligence and leave site in one hour. We are not alone. Repeat we have confirmation Z is inbound. Confirm understood Alpha-Zulu." Static ended the call.
"Alpha-Zulu 72 civilians shaken but safe, there's some serious intel here, GDIU recon, one hour isn't enough time, but we'll leave the rest to you. It was right to come. Others may have gotten here first. Alpha-Zulu 72 out." He clicked off, the radio produced two small beeps in acknowledgement and he stashed it away.
Moments later the civilian scientists emerged over the hills carrying a cube of metal that was heavy enough for them to share the load. On first glance, it was clearly a device. With two halves, and a screen. It was mottled, its surface peppered with small dots like a moon that had been bombarded with tiny asteroids.
"It's been 3D-printed, this is total beyond the curve tech, Stevens!" Exclaimed Erin.
The small camp was silent for a few minutes as the two physicists poured over the device that had been set onto compacted snow with an audible thud - betraying its density.
"What the hell IS IT? We have one hour and we've been ordered to scarper." Said Stevens, after a long spell, momentarily exposing the chaos of confusion that was naturally lingering below his thick veneer of training.
"This trooper seems to think he was in Ukraine, with an actual assault group - and now he's here. Folks - this is a Zeus power they just can't have. He's been sent here. If they have made what it looks like they've made - we're fucked, screwed, game over. This is the nuclear bomb of battlefield capability." He said, panic leaking from his tone.
"If that thing over the rise is a white hole, this could well be a quantum transponder - designed to create adherence for anything put through - it's complicated but it basically acts like a quantum key." Said Mercer, standing with Kepler.
"You say he called it a Novikov, yeah?" Said Kepler.
"He is a Russian physicist, white holes were his thing. So was time travel. He's edge of the curve, applied science, deep research. Old as fuck now but one of the best. Weird, though, he won John Archibald Wheeler Prize in 2020 with Kip. Proper commie, still, though. I'm not surprised he's helping Putin." He added.
"Kep, i'm off on a plain here. If this is some kind of quantum transponder, and that is a white hole - have they found away to travel parallel - through multiverse? It's breathtaking. It's - the best fucking science the world's ever produced." Said Mercer, his eyes virtually glowing with enthusiasm.
"Yeah, well the nuclear bomb was good science, Merc, i'd say we pat down the mind boners for now, huh?" Said Kepler, as if to shake his friend out of an academic trance.
"Oh, sure. But Kep, this is it. This is the universe. And they're using it on a battlefield in fucking Ukraine? Dear God above. If this is what it seems to be, it unlocks faster than light travel, doesn't it? We need to get this back." Mercer added.
"We do. We also need to find out how many the Russians have, where they're deploying them and we need to get Novikov out. They can't have this. It's game over if they've given this to the Chinese. Game over." Said Stevens.
"Hustle up - I want as many artifacts, images, videos and readings from the site as we can manage. You have fifteen minutes now - the Russians will be on their way. Make no mistake people, we're in serious fucking danger. Now, GO!" He added.
Erin stood and began assigning tasks for the scientists, Mercer and Kepler remained with the cube and Stevens with the soldier.
She ran over the hill and spacewalked near to the site. Dotted around were indeed lots of useful items. A pad, a starlink console, booklets, rucksacks and a handful of weapons. She also, on closer inspection of the far side of the site, found two bodies. Shredded, barely recognisable barring the frozen red ice around them.
"Poor fuckers." Said Myers, as she scooped up a utility belt and put it in a black bin bag.
"Yeah, this is some freaky shit - it makes climate change feel a little less pressing, right?" Said Erin.
She left Myers and went to the edge of the giant square sink hole in the snowy ground. It was like a static pool, she could feel it emanating through her every cell. She leant forwards and saw, deep down in the hole, a glowing circle span and she gulped.
A black hole. She thought.
As she made to move away.
Erin. Erin. Is that you? A voice said in her ear, as if beamed through the bone.
"Dad?! Dad?!" She replied, in her head. Frozen to the spot.
"It's me, love. You'll never believe. I'm here. We'll speak again, I couldn't miss the chance to speak. I'll be in trouble - but I don't care." Said the voice.
Erin staggered. Fell away in shock from the sink hole. Her father had been dead for a decade. Whatever was happening, it was too much for her. Tears began to stream down her face. She pressed her comms button on her neck to all the team.
"Folks, we need to leave here. I don't know if this is an evil place or a spiritual place. I do know I can't stay here any longer. I feel overwhelmed. I feel..." At that, she felt a stream of blood trickle down her nose, she lifted her hand instinctively to it. Then everything went black.
Dad. Dad, what's happening. Her consciousness faded and she slid to the floor, buffered by the gravity.
HMS Albion, alongside Ascension Island,
South Atlantic, + 7 Days
Erin woke to the feeling of her hand being stroked and held. A humming in the air. Her eyes blinked, laden with the crust of days unconscious. She tried to swallow, but the dryness was such that she couldn't, she cough and flayed a little - too weak to do more. She was in a gurney, in the bowels of the Royal Navy ship. Starched sheets crunched with her movement and a feeling of exhaustion flooded over her.
"Water, here, suck the straw." Said Ritter's voice.
"You had me worried Erin." he added.
Her throat, wetted by the water finally felt able to speak, swallow and breathe.
"Thanks you Dutch bastard." She said, a feint smile forming.
"What the hell happened? Where am I?" She said.
"We're all on Ascension. Oh Erin, i'm glad you slept." He paused, looking out the small circular window. She noticed his face was pale, with a streak on his cheek - like a graze.
"After you collapsed, we yomped back to the outpost and British Marines were waiting. Geared up. Then, under an hour later, Russian troops attacked. There was a battle - and we were evacuated." He said, looking back at her.
"The Brits lost some guys, we lost Peterson and Jeff. We were lucky to get out - but they got all the Russians. I literally, I mean, I literally saw Steven's rip a man's throat out. They were on us, they leapt out of the snow, like they'd been under white tarps around the base. It was carnage." He said, his eyes reddening.
"Oh Rit, I am so sorry. Peterson, Jeff. This is so fucked up. What happens now?" She said.
"We're at a top secret facility, some wonks from British Intelligence and the CIA are here. We'll be debriefed for the next week. This is a big deal Erin. A really big deal. We've just been part of history. For all the cost of it." He said, looking out of the window again as he squeezed her hand.
"What have they done? What have the Russians done?" Asked Erin.
"They've built the ultimate weapon, Erin. We think this was a test and failed - they're hoping it's a prototype. Nato is pointing every intelligence asset they have at this. Because if this technology works, in the hands of Russia and China? We're defenceless." He said.
"Merc told me he thinks they've figured out how manipulate quantum, like a multiverse portal, a shortcut. Because spacetime is a wave and in motion, you can jump out of our world, and then programme the route back to pop you down in another spot. Like a beam. You can use that to move from any point in our reality, in real time. And the worse thing - it uses some kind of subspace, quantum power source. So it's a closed loop system. Honestly my head nearly exploded just listening to him. He's giddy, a combination of terrified and awestruck." Added Ritter.
"I guess that's what they felt like at Los Alamos, huh." He said.
Erin nodded, and gulped. She shook his hand slightly so he'd look her in the eye. As he turned, she controlled herself to tell him her secret.
"Rit. When I was doing the sweep for Stevens, I went to the sinkhole. I leant over and saw what I think was a black hole - they said at the briefing White Holes are paired with one, right? In theory, you know. And, Rit. My Dad. He spoke to me Rit. My Dad spoke. That was the last thing that happened before I blacked out." A tear spilt from our eye and she let it flow.
Ritter lent forward and wiped it with his thumb. His face wore a look of total sympathy and love for his friend.
"Well now, isn't that the most wonderful sign that god and science have always been friends." He said.
"Rest up. You've a busy week ahead. You've just become one of the most important people in the Western World. They're calling it the Soho Project. We're heading to Porton Down and a pay rise. I guess this is the start of a new epoch for humanity." He said, getting to his feet.
"And you and me get to be part of it." He added.
"Ironic, huh. I am both scared and excited at the same time." He said, as he walked out.
Dad. We'll speak again. I love you. Thought Erin, and an image of her father hugging her leapt into her mind. So did an image of war, horror and destruction. She winced.
"Yeah, zero and one. Zero and fucking one." She said to herself, as Ritter closed the door.
