Subterranean

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BLUE ICE ENCASED THE CONTINENT FROM HORIZON TO horizon, scoured to a gritty shine by gale-force winds ripping shards across the frozen landscape. Nothing lived on the surface, except for grimy patches of yellow lichen, far older than any of the men stationed at McMurdo Base.

Two miles below Mount Erebus, through glacier, permafrost, and granite, Private Peter Wombley wiped sweat from his eyes. He dreamed of the fridge in his bunkroom stocked with a case of Coors. "This place is insane. Damned blizzard up top and hotter than a hooker's snatch down here."

"If you quit thinkin' about it, it wouldn't be so bad," Lieutenant Brian Flattery replied. He loosened his hand lantern from the transport motorcycle. "Let's go. We've got three more relays to calibrate before the end of this shift."

Peter grabbed his lantern and clicked it on, spearing the cavern with a blade of light, and followed.

"Hey, watch your step there," Brian said, pointing his light at a crevice in the cavern floor.

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