The wake of the USS Independence cut far back to the horizon, a white carpet unspooling from the ship’s stern. Otherwise, the ocean was calm, a smooth, soothing blue reflecting the clear skies. Alex stood on the flight deck while leaning on the perimeter rail, watching the wake and occasionally scanning the earth’s distant curve. They were four days and three thousand miles out from Virginia. The East Coast was far away to the northwest. Alex imagined if she looked hard enough, the sandy shoreline of Virginia Beach would reappear. At times, faint imperfections resolved along the horizon and she would rush to the bridge to ask if they were near land. But it was always her imagination. By the end of the day, they would skirt the northeastern tip of Brazil. Captain Rachel Shute had promised they would get at least a glimpse of the South American coastline.

On the bridge, Captain is fine. Anywhere else, if it’s just the two of us, call me Rachel.

The captain, the naval equivalent of a colonel, occasionally joined Alex on the flight deck. The spot was popular as the only open area on the otherwise cramped ship. They spoke sometimes but mostly stood side-by-side watching the ocean in silence. More than anything, Alex appreciated knowing someone on the crew saw her as more than just the girl who had wiped out Kansas City. The other NEA personnel except for Martin and Webb seemed to avoid her and often looked frightened in her presence. She didn’t blame them but each accusing glare and apprehensive look brought back the memories, the blood and death and screams.

A sudden urge came to climb over the railing and step off into the churning waters. No one would notice. She was not completely alone but the crewmembers outside were across the deck in the hangar performing maintenance on the ship’s two helicopters. The smaller of the two was an SH-60 Seahawk, almost identical to a Black Hawk except for its grey paint. The second was the bulbous CH-53E Super Stallion heavy-lifter, which would eventually take her to the airfield near McMurdo Station. Or not, her voice spoke softly. You can stop the memories easy. Just jump. You’ll get sucked under and that will be it. No more screams, no more nightmares. Just darkness like being asleep.

She pushed back from the rail as if it had caught fire. This was not the first time the thoughts had come, and with each instance, the voice grew louder, more persuasive. Pistol, pistol in my hand, send me off to fairy land. It was a child’s voice, her voice, sing-songing the rhyme. The voice and rhyme were familiar somehow but she did not allow herself to linger on it. Instead, she turned from the rail and hurried across the deck to go inside.

And where are you going to go? Nicole’s going to be in a bad mood if you wake her up. Her friend was asleep in the top bunk of the tiny cabin they shared below deck. Alex found Nicole’s sleep habits perplexing. Her friend often woke in the middle of the night, left, and came back hours later to return to sleep. Nicole spent her time prowling the ship’s corridors like a feline hunting for rats. Alex had given up trying to keep watch on her; it was too tiring, and she realized her friend enjoyed being alone.

The crew members working on the helicopter hurried out of her way as she entered the hangar. She did her best to ignore them, walking quickly toward the bulkhead door and then stepping through into the ship. The odor came immediately: a combination of oil, body odor, and the salty breeze from outside. She could stand the smells individually, and the fresh ocean air out on the deck was becoming familiar, even pleasant. But combined with everything else, it made her slightly nauseated. The smell was worst in the mornings when she awoke and at night when she lay in her bunk hoping unconsciousness would spare her a repeat of Kansas City or Fort Riley or any scene of death and destruction.

She arrived outside Shepherd’s room and hesitated. He shared the space with his NEA counterpart: Captain Lawrence Morgan. Sergeant Murray found the name amusing: Captain Morgan. It’s been goddamn years since I’ve seen any of that. Alex did not understand the reference but she took pleasure in anything that bothered Morgan. He was, she thought, unpleasant.

She had encountered Morgan outside the hangar on the evening of their second night at sea. They were alone. Echo and most of the crew were below in the mess hall. Hi, she said hesitantly when he turned to look. I’m Alex.

I know who you are. His voice was always cold and raspy but directed against her, his words were a man possessed – deep, angry, reverberating from the air around her rather than his vocal cords. What do you want?

I just—

I have nothing to say to you.

He brushed past her, almost throwing her off balance. Before she could protest, he was halfway across the deck and then gone into the hangar. Afterward, she had approached the railing and stared into the black ocean. That was the first time her voice whispered to jump.

She knocked on the bulkhead. To her relief, Shepherd answered. He wore his uniform trousers and green undershirt. His coat lay folded at the foot of his bunk while his boots stood neatly beside the door. Morgan was not inside. Shepherd smiled. “I was hoping you’d show up.”

“Oh?” she said as she came inside and Shepherd closed the door.

“Yep. Got the rest of the day off. The NEA kicked us out of the training room.”

“Another argument?”

“Pops decided to call them… what was it… ‘amateurs who should have waited until after puberty to join the military.’ Things went downhill pretty quick.”

Alex chuckled. Murray had a point. Aside from Morgan and a senior NCO, the ten other members of the NEA’s special operations unit resembled kids. Yet despite their age, determination shone in their eyes: a desire to do well, to prove they were up to the task. “Did you say anything to Sergeant Murray?”

“I gave him a pat on the back and told him good job.”

“So much for cooperation.”

He sighed and shook his head. “They’re convinced they know it all. And the thing is… I can’t really blame them. I felt the same way when I took over Echo. But they’re going to be in for a rough surprise if there’s any real fighting down in Antarctica. What’s sad is I know some of them are good kids. I’d hate to see them get killed because their leadership isn’t interested in what we have to say.”

Shepherd sat on his bunk. Alex joined him. The mattress was small and not all that comfortable. In her own quarters, she was always afraid she would roll off the bed during her sleep.

“Have you talked to General Martin?” Alex said.

“It’s their decision whether to listen or not. And General Martin isn’t exactly in my chain of command, you know?”

“He’d listen if you had something to say.”

Shepherd shrugged. “I’m sure Morgan will cool down by tonight and we’ll all be back training tomorrow morning. Anyway, how are you doing? Is Nicole still keeping you up?”

“She came and went three times last night. I almost want to follow her to see where she goes. It’s not like there’s anything to explore.”

“I noticed Colonel Webb’s been keeping a close eye.”

“Really?”

“I passed Nicole the other night. She didn’t say anything, didn’t seem to know I was there. I kept going and ran into Webb. It’s like the two of them are playing cat and mouse.”

“I doubt they’d agree on who’s playing the mouse.”

“No. Probably not.”

There was a long pause. They had spent only a few hours alone together since the ship’s departure from Virginia. Privacy was rare and intimacy almost impossible. But she wanted to be with Shepherd; they hadn’t had any time to develop their relationship before boarding the Independence, hadn’t had any time at all before that, either.

“Do you think Captain Morgan will be busy for a while?” she said finally.

“It’s possible.” His tone was noncommittal.

Put the ball in his court, girl. Nicole’s voice. When her friend wasn’t prowling the ship, they spent time together talking. Nicole’s favorite subject seemed to be Alex’s love life or lack thereof. You don’t need to act all prim and innocent. If you want him, go for it. I guarantee he ain’t going to complain. Alex hoped Nicole was right.

She scooted closer to Shepherd, took his hand, and then leaned over and put her lips on his. The kiss was clumsy and uncoordinated with both of them bent forward to avoid smacking their heads against the upper bunk. At first she thought Shepherd was trying to break away to talk but then he returned the kiss and put his arms around her. One hand went to the back of her neck, the other beneath her armpit before coming to rest against her spine. He pulled her to him and down into the cramped space of his bed. Her tongue met his, pushing first, then exploring. His hand shifted along her blouse until her found her breast. She lowered her hand to lift his shirt.

“All command and Directorate personnel report to the bridge!” The amplified voice caused Alex to jerk back. The abrupt pain of her head colliding with the upper bedframe wiped out the heat and fervor. She looked down at Shepherd. He looked up at her. Her heart was beating in her ears. The message repeated over the ship’s comm.

“Shit,” Shepherd muttered. His hand remained on her breast. He stared at it a moment as if unsure what to do but then lowered it and sighed. Alex considered putting her lips back to his and almost did before he said, “We better go or they’re going to come looking.”

She climbed off him carefully and looked at herself in the tiny mirror on the wall. Her hair was out of sorts, her cheeks red. She straightened her clothes as Shepherd groaned and stood. She grinned as both of them noticed the bulge in his trousers.

“Might need a minute before we go,” he said sheepishly while turning to retrieve and unfold his uniform coat. He put on the top and zipped it closed. The garment concealed his crotch. Her sly smile persisted. Shepherd grinned as well. He reached and neatened her hair. “You… might want to give some warning next time.”

“Next time?”

“Let’s just say I won’t be upset if we get kicked out of training again.”

“You know where to find me.”

Shepherd’s hand lowered to the side of her face. They kissed. It was brief but it rekindled the warmth throughout her body. Shepherd broke away first and went to the door. He looked at her questioningly for a moment. She nodded. He opened the hatch and both of them left for the bridge.

---

Alex and Shepherd found the bridge packed to overflowing. They edged into the room and found an open spot near the edge of the crowd. The members of Echo Team stood throughout the assembly: Murray and Wilson on their own while Atkins, Ziegler, and Jarden huddled near the door. Everyone watched the widescreen display hanging from the ceiling. Captain Shute stood beside the screen while observing the main door. Nicole was across the room with Webb nearby. Alex met her friend’s eyes. Nicole squinted for a moment, cocked her head, and then grinned widely. She knows, Alex thought with embarrassment. But how? She glanced at her clothes but found nothing out of the ordinary. Shepherd noticed Nicole’s grin.

“Think she’s got the wrong idea?”

“Not anymore,” Alex said, sounding pleased.

“General officer on deck!” Captain Shute said.

Everyone in the room went to attention.

“Carry on,” Martin said.

The crew parted as he slowly approached the screen. He wore his mask and trench coat. Every NEA soldier and sailor watched him with reverence. Webb pushed through the crowd to join Martin, who smiled at him and then nodded to Captain Shute.

“Okay,” Shute said. “Roll it.”

A satellite image of Antarctica appeared on the screen. A stamp in the lower right-hand corner of the screen read: “15 1436 June 2016 – HASDRUBAL – 85° 37’ 25.68” S, 59° 27’ 36.56” E.” And at the top and bottom of the image: “TOP SECRET//GOLD-WILDFIRE 0007-HERALD//NOFORN.” The word HERALD caught Alex’s attention. Back at the debriefing after New York. That video of the subway. That writing… it said something about ‘the Herald’.

“This imagery was recovered from the Pentagon’s archives. Note the date: it’s from before the outbreaks. Nothing out of the ordinary. Next.”

The clean white picture flashed away into another image of the continent, which caused a murmur to circulate around the room. Alex took Shepherd’s hand. Darkness enshrouded the icy continent. Swirling black clouds reached out to the ocean, and dead center within the eye of the storm, a black sphere. The imagery’s date and time read 07 1115D* AUG 2016. Shute allowed the photograph to linger before gesturing for the next slide. “Imagery courtesy of the Directorate,” she said. Again, it was Antarctica, clear of the black clouds but with a deep crater in the center of the continent. The date on the image was ten years after the previous.

“And this brings us to the reason I called everyone to the bridge.”

The next image resolved, again with the Directorate’s emblem and with the source shown as HANNIBAL-2, the Directorate’s primary reconnaissance satellite and one of only two still operational in low earth orbit. The date was a day after Kansas City. A hazy blur had replaced the crater. Five other satellite photos came and went, each timestamp advancing a few minutes while the angle of the image shifted from a straight top-down view to ones that offset more-and-more as the satellite continued along its elliptical orbit. The blur persisted through each shot.

Finally, they came to the last image from a day earlier. The blur had expanded, taking on a grey hue that no longer blended with the ice.

“Allow me to state the obvious,” Shute said. “Something strange is happening down there. The Directorate has run a diagnostic of their satellite. From what I’ve been told, there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong. Nevertheless, they’re planning to use another of their assets to image the same location. We have no idea what the source of this… shadow or smudge might be, and we welcome any educated speculation. I know I’d sure like to know what we’re headed into.”

Captain Morgan spoke up from across the room. “Is this going to cause any changes to our timeline?”

“We’ll continue with all speed to our destination. Six days, ladies and gentlemen. Anyone else? Once? Twice? All right, dismissed. Expect further updates to follow.”

The off-duty NEA personnel and the members of Echo Team piled around the door to leave. Alex stared at the now empty screen. In the darkness, something appeared like a ghost: the satellite image from August 7th transposed against the faded imprint of the writing on the New York subway wall. For an instant, she though she heard a heartbeat-like thrum and saw the sky outside the bridge windows turning red. But all of it went away when she blinked her eyes. She realized she was still holding onto Shepherd’s hand.

She began, “Let’s go back—”

“Shepherd.” Morgan had come up to them unnoticed. She quickly let go of Shepherd’s hand. “We need to talk. I put my men on break. I want everyone back in the room in an hour. Your people, too.”

“I don’t think we’re going to accomplish much today.”

“I don’t want to spend the rest of this trip screwing around. You keep control of your people, and I’ll keep control of mine. Deal?”

Shepherd looked surprised. “All right. 1330. We’ll be there.”

Morgan nodded and left.

“We really can’t catch a break,” Shepherd said unhappily. “I need to go take a cold shower if I’m going to have to focus on anything, but…” His voice trailed off as they looked at each other and grinned.

“Maybe later tonight?”

“I hope so. Going to be in your room?”

“Probably. If not, I’ll be on the deck.”

“I’ll come find you.”

“Okay.”

Shepherd followed the last of the crowd out the door. Alex was about to leave when she noticed Nicole leaning against the wall grinning. Oh boy, Alex thought. Nicole approached and put her arm around Alex’s shoulders.

“Is my intuition correct?” Nicole said in a low voice. “I could see it in your face. His, too. Tell me the truth. Did my attempts to educate you finally pay off?”

Alex looked around. Martin and Shute were across the bridge examining a screen on one of the terminals. Webb stood next to them. He glanced in their direction but then returned his attention to the monitor. The rest of the crew members were busy and out of earshot. Alex whispered, “Not yet.”

“The hell you mean not yet? I know you two were up to something.”

“We were. Then we all got called to the bridge.”

“Maybe this isn’t meant to be. Fate’s clearly got it out for you.”

“No,” Alex said firmly.

Nicole grinned. “Well, let’s go conduct a little… after-action review – see what you can improve on next time. I expect all the details.”

They started off the bridge. Alex was hesitant to describe the encounter but she knew with enough prodding, she would end up telling her friend what had happened. You don’t have to tell her everything, Alex thought, but she did.