The Nexus Colony by G.F. Schreader

was the first time Abbott had heard his voice. It had a deep, resonating tone, and it took Abbott by surprise. Monroe was a small man, probably no more than 150 pounds, but Abbott knew this type of individual didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Just his simple observation told Abbott everything about Major Monroe. He had a keen sense of intuitiveness and was highly analytical. This guy was all business. And Abbott was sure, no doubt, blindly devoted to Prall.
    “That’s correct,” Korbett replied, not turning around. “I wouldn’t be surprised that if more artifacts were found, they would fall into the same general pattern.”
    “Any theories?” Lisk asked.
    Korbett answered, “One of my colleagues thinks it’s simply that—random. Nothing more.”
    “It’s not a downed craft,” Abbott said.
    Korbett looked at him. “Why not?”
    “Debris would be scattered even more randomly. Anyway, there would probably be some evidence of an explosion or some other indication of trouble.”
    “Not if there was an implosion ,” Lisk said. “It wouldn’t show any evidence on the outer shell.”
    “It still could have exploded,” Prall said. “We’re just seeing the debris from the end away from the blast.”
    “Possibly,” Korbett said. A moment passed. “What do you think it is, Marsh?”
    “A stationary structure,” he replied. And then added, “…buried under the ice.”
    “Well no shit it’s buried under the ice,” Prall said, but the comment didn’t even phase Abbott.
    “Think about the pattern,” Abbott said. “Assume it’s not random. Assume it’s stationary—a craft, a shelter maybe—the ice gets inside and breaks it apart. What’s the first thing that happens? The pieces inside are pushed up to the surface—the box and the tool, for instance. Then the ice pulls the structure beam next, breaking it apart, followed by the panel pieces that have folded under. They all rise up through the ice just like rocky debris. The glacier moves the pieces along. Look at the trail.”
    Korbett contemplated.
    Abbott continued, “There are probably hundreds, maybe even thousands of more pieces scattered all along the glacier. We’ve only found a few of them.”
    Korbett contemplated for a moment, then replied, “I like that. That’s good, Marsh.”
    “Christ,” Lisk said, “if that’s the case, then whatever is down there must have been there for a long time.”
    The prospect kept everyone silent for a moment.
    “Depends how deep it’s down,” Abbott said. “It might just be below the surface.”
    “If it’s just below the surface,” Korbett observed, “it wouldn’t have been broken apart by the ice to this extent. This stuff is incredibly durable.”
    “Did we get any radiometric dating?” Lisk asked.
    “Not yet,” Korbett answered. “We should have that data this afternoon.”
    Prall said, “It might give us an indication of how deep down it is.”
    “More than likely not,” Almshouse said. “How deep is the ice?”
    “Don’t know yet,” Korbett replied. “We’re waiting for the satellite imaging. We can get a ballpark figure when we get the data.”
    “Otherwise,” Abbott said, “we’ll have to drill down to find out.”
    “Screw the drilling,” Prall said. “If there’s something under the ice, how in the hell are we going to dig it out?”
    They all looked at Korbett who met their gaze with an expressionless face. “With great difficulty,” he replied.
    After a moment, Abbott asked, “Can the satellite imaging get us a picture of what’s under the ice?”
    “Maybe,” Korbett replied. “I won’t know until the data is down-linked and my people get a chance to analyze it.”
    “How long will it take?” Prall asked.
    Korbett shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know, but it probably won’t be before you all arrive there .”
    It was all beginning to sink in that they were going to an area where even the latest technology and advances of modern civilization