Sol laughed. “Well, enthusiasm is good. But let’s not get carried away. I’ll begin with some history. In the early twentieth century, an expedition set out in this region. Two men got lost, separated from their fellows in a sudden blizzard, and found their way into an underground cavern. Only one survived, but what he saw down there was remarkable.” Sol passed out manila folders, one to each team member. Inside was a text summary followed by lots of color photos. “Read the details later, but for now just have a look at the pictures,” Sol said.
The shots showed a massive cavern, an underground lake, lots of odd, glowing fungi, strange rock formations.
While the team thumbed through their folders, Sol set a slideshow going on the screen of the same photos. “There’s a lot of underground volcanic activity in the area,” he said. “Geothermal vents, rising spring water, stuff like that. It creates a warm, comfortable environment down below, which gets warmer the deeper you go. We’re not looking for uranium or anything like that, but an element previously unknown to humankind.”
Aston looked up. “Wait. For one, where is this place you’re talking about? And how do you know about it now if it’s previously unknown?”
“Remember the old expedition I mentioned? Well, the explorer who escaped had a chunk of it on him. It was lost to science for decades, but SynGreene recently acquired it. Its properties are amazing and our top scientists are convinced it can be a powerful new source of clean energy.”
“Does this stuff have a name?” Syed asked.
Sol gave her an apologetic smile. “Not officially, but SynGreen refers to is as greenium.”
“Are you serious?” Syed asked, eyes wide.
Mirth rippled around the table and Sol shrugged. “I’m afraid so. It’s a kind of working title, because its properties are still being explored. But Arthur Greene of SynGreene is no stranger to celebrating himself in his work.”
“Quite the case of nominative determinism,” Aston said.
“Indeed.”
“You didn’t answer the other question,” Aston said. “Where is this place?”
Sol pointed at his feet. “We’re right on top of it. Well, not quite.” He gestured to the windows. “It’s about a hundred yards that way and extends away from the base.”
“Under the mountains?” Digby O’Donnell asked.
“I guess so. That direction, certainly.”
Dig nodded, smiling.
“So where does this team fit in?” Slater asked. “If you’ve got a sample and you’ve found the location, what are we for?”
Sol grinned. “Good question. We’ll need a complete survey first. Flora, fauna, geology, anything that needs to be studied and preserved or protected. We have to put together all kinds of dossiers for all kinds of government agencies. And we’re thinking the whole thing needs to be documented well anyway, because if we have discovered a new energy source here, your documentary on its emergence will be invaluable in educating the world. That’s why you, specifically, are here.”
Slater’s eyes narrowed, but she said no more.
“What if we find something?” Jahara Syed asked. Aston was glad the biologist had raised the question, because it had been his first thought, too. He had a feeling SynGreene had invested too much money already to let an environmental protection order get in their way.
Sol raised his palms. “Who knows what we’ll find. But make no mistake, we will extract the resources one way or the other. We simply want…”
“Deniability,” Aston said, anger beginning to boil low in his gut.
“We want to be able to demonstrate that we made every effort to do things the right way,” Sol finished.
Slater laughed. “Still sounds like we’re to be your cover story.”
“If you wish to see it that way, but I assure you, we intend to do the right thing here. By everyone. It is possible, if we’re all honest and diligent.” Sol’s face remained friendly and open, as it always seemed to be, but his eyes had hardened. Aston didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him.
“Some of us don’t seem to have skills that fit the purpose of your expedition,” Aston said.
Sol hesitated for a fraction of a second before he spoke. Aston wondered if anyone else had noticed it. “Let’s just say we want to be prepared for any contingency,” Sol said.
4
Slater woke the next morning and looked about the stark, white room she had been assigned. It was comfortable and functional, but no more than that. She couldn’t complain. It was actually refreshing in its own way. Immediately her thoughts returned to Sam Aston. Rage still boiled in her gut that he had let her think he was dead for all that time. But despite her hurt and fury, a great relief lurked somewhere under the surface. She had enjoyed the time they spent together, despite the horrors. And of course, they had shared the experience of those horrors, so perhaps Aston was the only person in the world she could ever talk to about that stuff. Maybe the relief lived there, in the knowledge there was someone still alive who got it, who believed her because he’d been there too. And then the rage came again. He was the only one who could have made any of it easier for her, and he’d hidden for months, like some cowardly whipped dog, refusing to come out from under the house.
Was she being unfair to him? She made a noise of disgust. Screw him! He’d left her to suffer. Maybe he had his reasons, but she didn’t care. Perhaps one day the relief that he lived would take over the anger at his hiding, but she didn’t think it would be any time soon. In some ways it felt petty to ensure he suffered before she even thought about forgiving him, but that was exactly what she intended to do.
“Asshole,” she muttered to herself, and went into the cramped en-suite to shower.
When she headed into the canteen half an hour later, the entire team was present. She winced at Jeff Gray funneling scrambled eggs into his face like a factory machine, half of it already down his sweater. Aston caught her eye, started to smile. That twisted combination of anger and relief flooded through her again and she looked away.
Once she had eaten and gulped down two mugs of coffee, she began to feel a little more balanced. The coffee, she noticed, was pretty good, so that was something positive about this whole debacle of an expedition.
Sol Griffin stood and called out for their attention. “We’re heading down this morning, so get wrapped up for the short trip to the elevator, but you won’t need to overdo it. A jacket and regular clothing will be fine once we go down. Be sure to bring all the gear you want with you, as it’s a long ride back if you forget anything. Our first foray will be relatively brief, though.”
Wrapped in parkas and lugging gear, the team soon found themselves crunching over fresh snowfall from the warm comforts of the base. Despite the bright sunshine, the impact of the cold on Slater’s face made her catch her breath as they stepped out. The landscape was awe-inspiring, undulating white, occasional ridges of gray stone, then the huge peaks of the mountains rising over them, almost close enough to touch. The morning sun struck the north faces of the strangely geometric range, making bright white and dark shadow stand out in stark contrast. Sol led them about fifty yards from the main base building, past two large garages and a stack of oil barrels, to a fenced off area with a bright yellow sign above the gate. The sign read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and an armed guard stood by the gate, his breath clouding in the cold air.
“Good morning,” Sol said.
“Sir.” The guard opened the gate and stepped aside to let them through. Beyond was a metal hut about five yards square and inside what looked like a huge freight elevator.