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Rachel paused； her eyes making contact now with her audience。
〃There has been a scientific discovery made in a location called the Milne Ice Shelf in the high Arctic。 The President will be informing the world about it in a press conference tonight at eight o'clock。 The find was made by a group of hardworking Americans who have endured a string of tough luck lately and deserve a break。 I'm talking about NASA。 You can be proud to know that your President； with apparent clairvoyant confidence； has made a point of standing beside NASA lately through thick and thin。 Now； it appears his loyalty is going to be rewarded。〃
It was not until that very instant that Rachel realized how historically momentous this was。 A tightness rose in her throat； and she fought it off； plowing onward。
〃As an intelligence officer who specializes in the analysis and verification of data； I am one of several people the President has called upon to examine the NASA data。 I have examined it personally as well as conferring with several specialists…both government and civilian…men and women whose credentials are beyond reproach and whose stature is beyond political influence。 It is my professional opinion that the data I am about to present to you is factual in its origins and unbiased in its presentation。 Moreover； it is my personal opinion that the President； in good faith to his office and the American people； has shown admirable care and restraint in delaying an announcement I know he would have loved to have made last week。〃
Rachel watched the crowd before her exchanging puzzled looks。 They all returned their gaze to her； and she knew she had their undivided attention。
〃Ladies and gentlemen； you are about to hear what I'm sure you will agree is one of the most exciting pieces of information ever revealed in this office。〃
35
The aerial view currently being transmitted to the Delta Force by the microbot circling inside the habisphere looked like something that would win an avant…garde film contest…the dim lighting； the glistening extraction hole； and the well…dressed Asian lying on the ice； his camel…hair coat splayed around him like enormous wings。 He was obviously trying to extract a water sample。
〃We've got to stop him；〃 said Delta…Three。
Delta…One agreed。 The Milne Ice Shelf held secrets his team was authorized to protect with force。
〃How do we stop him？〃 Delta…Two challenged； still gripping the joystick。 〃These microbots are not equipped。〃
Delta…One scowled。 The microbot currently hovering inside the habisphere was a recon model； stripped down for longer flight。 It was about as lethal as a housefly。
〃We should call the controller；〃 Delta…Three stated。
Delta…One stared intently at the image of the solitary Wailee Ming； perched precariously on the rim of the extraction pit。 Nobody was anywhere near him…and ice cold water had a way of muffling one's ability to scream。 〃Give me the controls。〃
〃What are you doing？〃 the soldier on the joystick demanded。
〃What we were trained to do；〃 Delta…One snapped； taking over。 〃Improvise。〃
36
Wailee Ming lay on his stomach beside the extraction hole； his right arm extended over the rim trying to extract a water sample。 His eyes were definitely not playing tricks on him； his face； now only a yard or so from the water； could see everything perfectly。
This is incredible！
Straining harder； Ming maneuvered the beaker in his fingers； trying to reach down to the surface of the water。 All he needed was another few inches。
Unable to extend his arm any farther； Ming repositioned himself closer to the hole。 He pressed the toes of his boots against the ice and firmly replanted his left hand on the rim。 Again； he extended his right arm as far as he could。 Almost。 He shifted a little closer。 Yes！ The edge of the beaker broke the surface of the water。 As the liquid flowed into the container； Ming stared in disbelief。
Then； without warning； something utterly inexplicable occurred。 Out of the darkness； like a bullet from a gun； flew a tiny speck of metal。 Ming only saw it for a fraction of a second before it smashed into his right eye。
The human instinct to protect one's eyes was so innately ingrained； that despite Ming's brain telling him that any sudden movements risked his balance； he recoiled。 It was a jolting reaction more out of surprise than pain。 Ming's left hand； closest to his face； shot up reflexively to protect the assaulted eyeball。 Even as his hand was in motion； Ming knew he had made a mistake。 With all of his weight leaning forward； and his only means of support suddenly gone； Wailee Ming teetered。 He recovered too late。 Dropping the beaker and trying to grab on to the slick ice to stop his fall； he slipped…plummeting forward into the darkened hole。
The fall was only four feet； and yet as Ming hit the icy water head first he felt like his face had hit pavement at fifty miles an hour。 The liquid that engulfed his face was so cold it felt like burning acid。 It brought an instantaneous spike of panic。
Upside down and in the darkness； Ming was momentarily disoriented； not knowing which way to turn toward the surface。 His heavy camel…hair coat kept the icy blast from his body…but only for a second or two。 Finally righting himself； Ming came sputtering up for air； just as the water found its way to his back and chest； engulfing his body in a lung…crushing vise of cold。
〃Hee。。。 lp；〃 he gasped； but Ming could barely pull in enough air to let out a whimper。 He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him。
〃Heee。。。 lp！〃 His cries were inaudible even to himself。 Ming clambered toward the side of the extraction pit and tried to pull himself out。 The wall before him was vertical ice。 Nothing to grab。 Underwater； his boots kicked the side of the wall； searching for a foothold。 Nothing。 He strained upward； reaching for the rim。 It was only a foot out of reach。
Ming's muscles were already having trouble responding。 He kicked his legs harder； trying to propel himself high enough up the wall to grab the rim。 His body felt like lead； and his lungs seemed to have shrunk to nothing； as if they were being crushed by a python。 His water…laden coat was getting heavier by the second； pulling him downward。 Ming tried to pull it off his body； but the heavy fabric stuck。
〃Help。。。 me！〃
The fear came on in torrents now。
Drowning； Ming had once read； was the most horrific death imaginable。 He had never dreamed he would find himself on the verge of experiencing it。 His muscles refused to cooperate with his mind； and already he was fighting just to keep his head above water。 His soggy clothing pulled him downward as his numb fingers scratched the sides of the pit。
His screams were only in his mind now。
And then it happened。
Ming went under。 The sheer terror of being conscious of his own impending death was something he never imagined he would experience。 And yet here he was。。。 sinking slowly down the sheer ice wall of a two…hundred…foot…deep hole in the ice。 Multitudes of thoughts flashed before his eyes。 Moments from his childhood。 His career。 He wondered if anyone would find him down here。 Or would he simply sink to the bottom and freeze there。。。 entombed in the glacier for all time。
Ming's lungs were screaming for oxygen。 He held his breath； still trying to kick toward the surface。 Breathe！ He fought the reflex； clamping his insensate lips together。 Breathe！ He tried in vain to swim upward。 Breathe！ At that instant； in a deadly battle of human reflex against reason； Ming's breathing instinct overcame his ability to keep his mouth closed。
Wailee Ming inhaled。
The water crashing into his lungs felt like scalding oil on his sensitive pulmonary tissue。 He felt like he was burning from the inside out。 Cruelly； water does not kill immediately。 Ming spent seven horrifying seconds inhaling in the icy water； each breath more painful than the last； each inhalation offering none of what his body so desperately craved。
Finally； as Ming slid downward into the icy darkness； he felt himself going unconscious。 He weled the escape。 All around him in the water Ming saw tiny glowing specks of light。 It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen。
37
The East Appointment Gate of the White House is located on East Executive Avenue between the Treasury Department and the East Lawn。 The reinforced perimeter fence and cement bollards installed after the attack on the Marine barracks in Beirut give this entry an air that is anything but weling。
Outside the gate； Gabrielle Ashe checked her watch； feeling a growing nervousness。 It was 4：45 P。M。； and still nobody had made contact。
EAST APPOINTMENT GATE； 4：30 P。M。 E ALONE。
Here I am； she thought。 Where are you？
Gabrielle scanned the faces of the tourists milling about； waiting for someone to catch her eye。 A few men looked her over and moved on。 Gabrielle was beginning to wonder if this had been such a good idea。 She sensed the Secret Serviceman in the sentry shack had his eye on her now。 Gabrielle decided her informant had gotten cold feet。 Gazing one last time through the heavy fence toward the White House； Gabrielle sighed and turned to go。
〃Gabrielle Ashe？〃 the Secret Serviceman called out behind her。
Gabrielle wheeled； her heart catching in her throat。 Yes？
The man in the guard shack waved her over。 He was lean with a humorless face。 〃Your party is ready to see you now。〃 He unlocked the main gate and motioned for her to enter。
Gabrielle's feet refused to move。 〃I'm ing inside？〃
The guard nodded。 〃I was asked to apologize for keeping you waiting。〃
Gabrielle looked at the open doorway and still could not move。 What's going on！ This was not at all what she had expected。
〃You are Gabrielle Ashe； are you not？〃 the guard demanded； looking impatient now。
〃Yes； sir； but…〃
〃Then I strongly suggest you follow me。〃
Gabrielle's feet jolted into motion。 As she stepped tentatively over the threshold； the gate slammed shut behind her。
38
Two days without sunlight had rearranged Michael Tolland's biological clock。 Although his watch said it was late afternoon； Tolland's body insisted it was the middle of the night。 Now； having put the finishing touches on his documentary； Michael Tolland had downloaded the entire video file onto a digital video disk and was making his way across the darkened dome。 Arriving at the illuminated press area； he delivered the disk to the NASA media technician in charge of overseeing the presentation。
〃Thanks； Mike；〃 the technician said； winking as he held up the video disk。 〃Kind of redefines 'must…see TV；' eh？〃
Tolland gave a tired chuckle。 〃I hope the President likes it。〃
〃No doubt。 Anyhow； your work is done。 Sit back and enjoy the show。〃
〃Thanks。〃 Tolland stood in the brightly lit press area and surveyed the convivial NASA personnel toasting the meteorite with cans of Canadian beer。 Even though Tolland wanted to celebrate； he felt exhausted； emotionally drained。 He glanced around for Rachel Sexton； but apparently she was still talking to the President。
He wants to put her on…air； Tolland thought。 Not that he blamed him； Rachel would be a perfect addition to the cast of meteorite spokespeople。 In addition to her good looks； Rachel exuded an accessible poise and self…confidence that Tolland seldom saw in the women he met。 Then again； most of the women Tolland met were in television…either ruthless power women or gorgeous on…air 〃personalities〃 who lacked exactly that。
Now； slipping quietly away from the crowd of bustling NASA employees； Tolland navigated the web of pathways across the dome； wondering where the other civilian scientists had disappeared to。 If they felt half as drained as he did； they should be in the bunking area grabbing a catnap before the big moment。 Ahead of him in the distance； Tolland could see the circle of SHABA pylons around the deserted extraction pit。 The empty dome overhead seemed to echo with the hollow voices of distant memories。 Tolland tried to block them out。
Forget the ghosts； he willed himself。 They often haunted him at times like these； when he was tired or alone…times of personal triumph or celebration。 She should be with you right now； the voice whispered。 Alone in the dark