The General didn't comment. He was still grappling with the quadruple loss his wife and their two young children, his son, and, most assuredly because of this calamity, his career. He stared fixedly ahead, his body moving only when the snowcat bounced over a rough patch. They rounded the last hill, and the base was spread before them. Seen from above, the damage to the gas-processing plant looked bad. From ground level, it was far worse.

Half of the building, which had been big enough to park two jumbo jets, was a smoking hole in the ground in the center of tons of torn and blackened pipes. The Admiral Guillermo Brown was tied to the pier, her back half appearing normal, while from her bridge forward she was a charred husk. It was a testament to her Russian builders that more men aboard her hadn't perished.

Out across the bay stood the legs of three of the production platforms. Of the rigs themselves, only the spindly arms of deck cranes poking above the waves marked their locations. Ice was already forming around them, and within another few days the bay would be a solid sheet.

Mr. Laretta says that we can still pump oil to the storage tanks from the surviving rigs, but, without any means to process the natural gas, we have no way to power the operation, Jimenez said when the silence became too much for him. But he did say that portable machines can be brought in that will give us some processing capabilities and allow us to start rebuilding.

Espinoza continued to sit like a stone.

We still need to evacuate most of the staff until we can get fuel down here and the processor is up and running. Laretta says he needs just twenty men, at first. There will be more later, to be sure, but for now there aren't enough resources to keep the rest alive. I forgot to ask, General, when are the other planes coming?

They had pulled up close to the smoldering remains of the processing plant. Espinoza threw open his door and jumped down to the ice. He didn't bother pulling up his parka hood, as if in defiance of this place. There was nothing more Antarctica could do to him. He stood mutely as the wind howled off the ocean, the air heavy with the smell of seared metal.

Jorge, he whispered.

Jimenez was actually surprised at how badly the General was taking his son's death. From stories the Major had told him over the years, and seeing the two together, he had come away with the sense that the father looked on his son as just another soldier under his command.

Jorge, Espinoza repeated softly. Then his voice firmed and became angry. You have failed and don't have the courage to face me, do you? You stupidly died to avoid answering for your mistakes. You rode my coattails for so long that when it came time to step off, you could no longer stand on your own.

He reared on Jimenez. Planes? There will be no planes. You men will live or die by your wits. You will get this facility running again or you will all freeze to death. So long as our Chinese friends back our play, you must remain here and legitimize our claim. Now, tell me of this mystery ship that beached near here.

Espinoza had gone from lamb to lion so quickly that Jimenez took a second too long to respond, so the General shouted, Lieutenant, your dereliction has already been noted, do not make it worse!

Sir! Jimenez came to attention. As soon as the weather cleared, I ordered our helicopter to conduct an aerial survey off the coast because that vessel was an unexplained anomaly that your son told me had bothered him. They failed to spot the craft, and, given its situation when it was last sighted, it is my belief that it sank during the storm.

Sank?

Yes, sir. When we boarded it several days ago, her lower levels were flooded, and when she floated off the beach, the day before the storm, she had a severe list. It is unlikely that she survived more than a few hours when the weather front hit us. A storm strong enough to snap the Admiral Brown's anchor chain would have easily had the power to capsize the old freighter.

This was another coincidence that Espinoza didn't like. However, an earlier check of the Lloyd's of London database showed that a ship named Norego that matched the description from his son's report had been reported lost with all hands nearly two years ago. It was just plausible enough that she had drifted all that time and her presence here was innocent.

He didn't know that Mark Murphy and Eric Stone had hacked the insurance giant's computer system and planted that information. They'd done the same at the International Maritime Safety Board as well, in case anyone became really nosy.

In the end, it all came down to what their Chinese allies would do. If they continued to support Argentina, then they had the protection to rebuild the base. If, however, they withdrew their support, then Espinoza would have no choice but to order a full evacuation, despite his earlier bluster.

Two hours later, Espinoza was in Luis Laretta's office, listening to the director's plans for reconstruction, when a radio report came in from the survey boat. Lee Fong and his team had left when the storm abated with plans to dive on the wreck of the Silent Sea and return with conclusive evidence, enough to convince the world that Beijing had a legitimate stake in the peninsula.

The marine transceiver was on a side table closest to the General, so he fielded the call.

No, this isn't Mr. Laretta, he explained. My name is General Philippe Espinoza. I am in his office with him.

General, it is an honor to speak with you, Lee replied. And let me extend the condolences from my government on the loss of your son. I knew him only briefly, but he seemed an excellent officer and a fine man.

Thank you, Espinoza choked out, his voice a mix of shame and grief.

General, it is not my wish to add to your burden, however, I have to report that the Silent Sea is no longer here.

What?!

There is a glacier overlooking the bay where she sank, and a large part of it broke off during the storm. One of my men believes the concussion of the explosion might have done it, but the reasons are not important. What is important is that the wave it created when it hit the water swept the wreck away from her resting spot. We have searched her most likely track and have found no evidence of the ship.

You will keep looking. It was more question than statement.

There was an apologetic pause before the Chinese surveyor replied. I am sorry, but no. I have contacted my superiors and apprised them of the situation. They have ordered me to call off the search and evacuate my team as soon as possible. With the loss of our submarine, the base so heavily damaged, and no solid evidence that my nation was the first to explore this region, they are unwilling to risk further international condemnation.

Surely you can find the Silent Sea in a day or two. You know she's out there.

We do, but the seafloor drops away just outside the bay to more than five thousand feet. It could take a month or longer, and we still might not find her. My government is not willing to risk our searching for that long.

That was the final nail in the coffin. At dawn the next morning, the Hercules took off again for Argentina, carrying the first wave of men off the peninsula. Unlike Caesar, they had crossed the Rubicon only to be beaten back by what they thought was fate but in truth were Juan Cabrillo and the Corporation.

A DARK PALL HUNG OVER the Oregon as she cruised northwest on her way to South Africa. They would be a couple of days late to provide security for the Kuwaiti Emir's state visit, but a quick renegotiation on their fee had settled the matter.

The ship was like a zombie now. She could function, but she had no soul. Juan's presence was everywhere aboard her, therefore so was his absence. Four days had passed since his death, and the crew were no further along in their grieving than the first instant when they realized he wasn't coming back.