CHAPTER 102
Immari Research Base Prism
East Antarctica
Dorian had to hand it to Martin Grey: the man was technically competent. The research site in Antarctica was breathtaking. For the last thirty minutes, Martin had walked Dorian through each section of the giant centipede-esque mobile laboratory: the primate lab, with its two dead carcases, the drill control center, the staff barracks, the conference rooms, and the main control center, where they sat now.
“We’re out in the open here, Dorian. We should take precautions. There are several research stations here on Antarctica. Any one of them could stumble across us—”
“And do what?” Dorian said. “Who are they going to call?”
“The nations that fund them for one—”
“Those nations will soon be consumed with the outbreak. Unauthorized research on some ice cube at the end of the world won’t be on their radar, trust me. Let’s stop wasting time and get down to business. Tell me what you found at the sub site.”
“About what we expected.”
“Him?”
“No. General Kane,” Martin seemed to wince as he said the word. “wasn’t among the bodies we iden—”
“Then he’s inside.” Dorian’s hope betrayed his usually stoic exterior.
“Not necessarily. There are other possibilities.”
“Doubtfu—”
Martin pressed on. “He could have been killed during the raid in Tibet. Or en-route. It was a long journey. Or—”
“He’s inside. I know it.”
“If so, it raises several questions. Specifically, why he hasn’t exited. And why we haven’t heard from him. And there’s the reality of the timeline. Kane left for Antarctica in 1938. 75 years ago. If he is inside, he would be over 120 years old. Long dead.”
“Maybe he did try to communicate with us. Roswell. A warning.”
Martin thought it over. “Interesting. Even so, your obsession with Kane, with finding him, puts us all in danger. You need a clear head if you’re to lead this operation—”
“My head is clear, Martin.” Dorian stood. “I admit I’m obsessed with finding Konrad Kane, but you would be too if your father had gone missing.”