Read The Nexus Colony for Free Online

Its momentum carried the plane for what Grimes thought was a long time. Too long. The only thought that suddenly came into his head was whether the damn thing was going to stop before it reached the end of the ski tracks. Then all of a sudden, it did. Grimes looked out the window. There was probably less than fifty yards of ski tracks remaining.
    “Not bad” he heard the co-pilot comment. “No cigar today. Thought you were going to make it, though.” The pilot shrugged indifferently. Once again, Grimes didn’t know if they were pulling his chain again or not. But at least one thing was for sure. They were down safely on the Mulock Glacier. Now the trek really began.
    If one tended to underestimate the effects of the cold, even when cocooned in the modern technology of polar clothing, the initial shock brought one back to reality. The first instant one was exposed to the blast of frigid air, one gained a rather abrupt awareness of what humility was all about. The bay inside the cargo plane was already cold despite the fact that the heaters had been going full blast. But when the loadmaster opened the hydraulic cargo ramp, it was as if the transport had opened its jaws like a giant beast, gulping in an enormous volume of the frigid Antarctic air.
    The temperature of the air must have instantaneously dropped fifty degrees as the icy air was sucked into the belly of the LC-130, and everyone’s lungs pumped out long streamers of white breath that seemed to hang like clouds for several seconds. Despite being wrapped in the finest polar outfits that man could manufacture, the cold somehow still seemed to penetrate like tiny needles prickling the skin, just subtle enough to create a constant awareness of its presence. Grimes remembered talking to one of the space shuttle astronauts not so long ago about how cold it was in space. The coldness was so intense that even in the heated spacesuits, you could feel the iciness. It kept you constantly aware of your own mortality, the man had told him. It was the same as Grimes always felt when he first stepped into the Antarctic environment. Suit don’t fail me now.
    Grimes knew as well as any polar explorer that you had to maintain a minimal body temperature, because if it dropped below a certain level, you’d probably not be able to get it back up. If they couldn’t get you out, you’d die of exposure. Any signs of hypothermia and you were a candidate for immediate evacuation. On any of the expeditions, the communication link was paramount.
    Aside from the extreme cold, the day was not as harsh as they had expected, having anticipated worse conditions from the air turbulence they had experienced at altitude above the glacier. Surprisingly, the wind, at least for the moment, wasn’t blowing too strong. It was only coming down off the glacier at a few knots, to their advantage when setting up camp.
    The two loadmasters were already outside on the ice, having loosened all the straps holding the ski sleds and the four snowmobiles. Mike Ruger, the lead mountaineer, and his partner – a last minute replacement and a guy Ruger didn’t particularly like to work with – had started and mounted the first two machines. In another minute they were down the ramp and out onto the ice heading slowly off to the right where Ruger had already reconnoitered for their camp site. Ruger had it down to a science, and within the next hour the camp would be set up and ready for the next several weeks’ activities. About twenty minutes later, all four snowmobiles and ski sleds were unloaded and out of the way of the LC-130, which still sat idling in place. From two hundred yards away, the aircraft looked out of place against the backdrop of this unbelievable wilderness.
    While Ruger’s partner conducted setting up camp with Grimes and the other five scientists, Ruger held his final debriefing with the crew. Then he headed back to the camp as the LC-130 revved its engines, surging forward to begin its