sub-zero weather and with a gargantuan wall of ice collapsing a few hundred yards away, wasn’t for the fainthearted.
It was now six hours since the sign had first appeared. After their extended, high-definition clip was broadcast and carried by the other channels, the news had simply exploded. It was all over the news updates, splashed across the world’s TV screens, and on every Internet news site. Armies of reporters and pundits were talking about it, wondering about it, offering wild theories. People across America and in the rest of the world were being interviewed and asked what they thought the sightings meant. As expected, some of the responses were glib and dismissive, but most people were seriously intrigued. And it was still the middle of the night across North America. Most people there were asleep. The next day, Gracie knew, was when the real frenzy would begin. Her satphone hadn’t stopped ringing with requests for interviews and comments, and her inbox was also flooded.
Across every channel, every news network, one expert after another was being wheeled in to try and explain it. Physicists, climatologists, all kinds of scientists, dragged in from every corner of the planet. None of them had a clue. They couldn’t offer any remotely convincing insight into how or why it was happening, and while that excited some people, it also scared a lot of them. The religious pundits were faring better. Faith was one explanation that didn’t carry the burden of proof. Priests, rabbis, and muftis were voicing their thoughts on the sign with increasing candor. On one clip that Gracie had watched, a Baptist pastor was asked what he thought about it. He replied that people of faith everywhere were watching it very closely, and wondered if there was anything other than the divine to explain it. It was a view that several other interviewees also expressed—and that perspective was gaining ground. Faith, not science, was where the true explanation lay. The thought consumed Gracie as she strained against the downdraft from the Lynx’s powerful rotor and shielded her eyes to watch Dalton’s slow ascent. A small smile cracked across her face as he waved to her from above, coaxing a wave back. Consummate filmmaker that he was, he held a small camcorder in one hand, capturing every hair-raising moment.
She noticed Finch turn, and followed his gaze to see the ship’s captain join them. He looked up, taking stock of the transfers’ progress, which had to be swiftly executed, as they were already at the edge of the helicopter’s operating range, even with its additional fuel tanks, then turned to Finch and Gracie.
“I got a call from someone at the Pentagon,” he informed them, shouting to be heard against the deafening rotor wash.
Gracie glanced over at Finch, both of them visibly and suddenly on edge.
“They wanted me to make sure no one left the ship before their people got here,” the captain added. “You in particular,” he specified, pointing his finger at Gracie.
She felt a paralysis of worry. “What did you tell them?”
The captain grinned. “I said we were in the middle of nowhere and I didn’t think anyone was going anywhere for the time being.”
Gracie breathed out in relief. “Thanks,” she said and beamed at him.
The captain shrugged it off. “It wasn’t even a request. It was more like an order. And I don’t remember signing up for anyone’s army.” His words were laced with bemused indignation. “I’ll expect you to kick up a big stink if they ship me off to Guantánamo.”
Gracie smiled. “You’ve got it.”
He glanced overhead at the chopper, then leaned in closer. “We’re also getting flooded with requests from journalists and reporters from all over the place. I’m thinking we should seriously bump up our room rate and rake in some cash.”
“What are you telling them?” Finch asked.
He shrugged. “We’ve hung up a no vacancy sign for the moment.”
“They’ll keep asking,” Gracie told him, “if they’re any good at what they do.”
“I know,” the captain said, “and it’s hard to say no, but this is a research ship. I don’t want to turn it into a Carnival cruise. Trouble is, we’re the only ones out here. The only other ships within a couple hundred miles are a Japanese whaler and the Greenpeace vessel that’s hounding it, and I don’t think either of them’s in a particularly hospitable mood.” His deep-set, clear eyes twinkled mischievously at Gracie. “Looks like it’s still your exclusive.”
She smiled back, the gratitude evident in her expression.