The buzz of Conner’s phone saved her for the moment from the eye-numbing green tint of the screen.
“SNN. Conner Young.”
“Hey, Constance.”
There was only one person who called her that, and to be honest, Conner hated her given name. But she’d never tell Sammy that. “Hey, Samantha. How’re you doing?”
“All right.”
There was a long pause. Sammy had never called her at work before, even when she’d been up in Chicago. “Are you OK, sis?”
“I’m fine.”
Conner waited, aware of an awkwardness that was always present in their conversations. Well, then, what the heck are you calling me for? she thought. “How’s mom?”
“All right. She’s in England with Nelson.” Conner frowned. Sammy had never called Nelson dad even though her mom had married him more than nineteen years ago. It bothered Conner.
This father issue had always been a wedge between them. For Conner, middle childhood had been like growing up in a house of mourning — a strange situation, since the loss of her father meant nothing to her. It was hard for her to miss something she’d never really had. But even as a child Conner could see how devastating it was for Sammy. Whereas their mother was able to replace the husband she lost, Sammy couldn’t replace her father.
Sammy had fallen victim to her mother’s inability to start a new life without negating the old. It was as if the only way her mom could make room in her heart for Nelson was to destroy all the emotional evidence of the young soldier she had loved. Sammy felt betrayed. Conner had always thought this was what had driven her sister into two quick marriages and that dismal job she couldn’t seem to leave.
Her own situation had been much different. With Nelson, Conner had found a man who was hungry to love and be loved. His younger step-daughter became the focus of his life, and he made sure she had few wants. Though Conner felt on the surface that Sammy had thrown away a chance for paternal affection, the selfish child in her was glad that she’d never had to share Nelson with her sister. In Conner’s mind, Sammy had tied herself emotionally to a dead man, which seemed a foolish thing to do. The differences in the way they lived seemed ample evidence of Sammy’s folly.
It took Conner a moment to realize that Sammy was still silent even though she was the one who had called. For the first time Conner could remember, her older sister was hesitant. Conner decided to wait it out. She returned her gaze to the computer and clicked the mouse, looking at a new screen.
Finally Sammy spoke. “Conner. Listen, I’ve found something strange in the Records Center.”
“Yeah. What?” Jesus Christ, Conner thought as she read her screen, the UPI had actually carried a story on UFO landings in Idaho. Idaho of all places! How come the damn things never landed in Central Park?
“There’s this place, it’s called Eternity Base, and it was built by the military in 1971, and there’s no record of it anywhere.”
“If there’s no record, how do you know it exists?”
“I’ve got photos of it. That’s what started me on it. I found this file in unit histories and then…”
As her sister related her search, Conner forgot about the computer screen. She was surprised at Sammy’s investigative skills. When her sister finally drew to a close, though, Conner was confused.
“Antarctica? Why would the army build a place in Antarctica?”
“I don’t know. But they certainly went to a lot of trouble to hide it.”
“Well, even if they did, what’s the big deal? I mean we’re talking twenty-five years ago. Who cares? Maybe it was just some temporary thing and it’s gone now.”
Sammy’s voice was sharp when she answered, and Conner belatedly realized her mistake: everything that happened twenty-five years ago was important to Sammy. “That may be true, but the simple fact that the United States built something secret down there is pretty significant.”
“Why?”
Sammy sounded surprised. “It violated the treaty.”
“What treaty?”
‘The 1959 Antarctica Treaty the United States signed along with seventeen other nations. It suspended all territorial claims for thirty years and also specifically prohibited any military presence in Antarctica. It’s the one place on the planet where weapons are outlawed.”
Conner considered that. “Did these engineers have weapons with them?”
“Well, no, not that you can see in the picture. But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” Conner didn’t like asking so many questions. It seemed to give Sammy an edge.
“The point is that something was built down there in 1971, something that somebody took a lot of trouble covering up, to the extent of altering and hiding official records. Something that was important enough to pull an army engineer company out of a war zone to build.”
“So what do you want me to do about it?” When she heard Sammy’s reply, Conner realized that her tone must have been harsher than she intended.
“I don’t expect you to do a damn thing about it. I just thought that maybe you could use something interesting in your new job to get a leg up, but obviously you don’t need any help. I shouldn’t have called you in the first place. Bye.”
The phone went dead. Conner slowly put down the receiver and considered what her sister had said. Why did Sammy think she needed a leg up? For a second she felt a flash of irritation at an offer of help from a woman who lived above a garage. Maybe it was her sister’s way of hanging on: by helping her, Sammy could feel some personal sense of responsibility for Conner’s success. Conner had felt it before — the subtle innuendos meant to remind her that self-reliance and competence played a small part in her current position. Conner knew she had earned her way to this tiny cubicle, and she didn’t want to hand anyone else — even her sister — any share of that.
But Conner couldn’t completely deny her professional interest. Sammy had always seemed to possess an innate ability to sense the hidden and darker sides of the world around her. As soon as her sister had mentioned the acronym MACV-SOG, Conner had known that Sammy would hold onto this issue like a dog with a bone until she sucked it dry of every piece of available information. Her sister would continue to dig; if she unearthed more, there might very well be a story. Maybe not the one Sammy wanted, but one that could push Conner out of the cubicle and into an office with a real door. As Stu had said — it was an up or out business.
Antarctica. Maybe there were other hooks that could be tied in. The environmental group Our Earth might be interested in something involving that area of the world. Conner had done a story on an Our Earth protest about pollution in Lake Michigan, and she’d been impressed with the group’s ability to generate publicity.
That thought reminded her of Devlin, the man who had run the protests. He was the only person in the four years she was in Chicago who had managed to penetrate her professional cloak, albeit only for a brief moment. She remembered that he’d talked for a while about Antarctica, even mentioning that he’d spent a winter down there.
Conner grabbed her Rolodex and flipped through to O. She dialed the number for the Our Earth headquarters in California. A cheery sounding young woman told her that Devlin was currently in Australia. With a little coaxing, the girl gave an overseas number where he might be reached.
Conner looked at the clocks posted on the wall. It was after midnight in Tokyo, which she guessed was somewhere near the same time zone as Australia. She dialed the international code and then the number. When the phone was picked up on the other end, she was surprised at the clarity of the transmission.