Delta G. David J. Crawford

Sven bring up your bags in a little bit. We can’t go up into the Radome with the antenna hot and spinning. It would fry your gonads in a fraction of a second. My room is at the end of the hall. Dr. Rapp and Dr. Timken have the other two rooms. We’ll go down to my office real quick and I’ll give you a visitors’ safety briefing on what to do in case of fire, medical emergencies, communications procedures, and all that good stuff.”

      The PA system echoed off the halls, “Raven One off the ice and out bound to Sonde. Raven Two inbound…ETA ten minutes.” With this much going on at the site, Vince had air traffic calls put on the PA to keep everyone informed what was happening.

      After the visitors’ brief, Vince said, “I’ve got to bundle up and head back outside. You can wait in the dining room or you’re welcome to join me. Your choice.” Dave was no fool. “Until I get acclimated and my temples stop bleeding, I think I’ll wait inside. I’d like to wait in the console room if that’s okay with you. Besides my mukluks are in my luggage out there somewhere.” Jim said, “That’s fine. Just announce yourself to Jim on the portal phone outside the door. You’re cleared for access to all areas of the site. But just a word of wisdom, never let that arctic survival gear bag out of your control. Never know when you will need it.”

      The PA system came to life once more, “Attention on-site, attention on-site…Raven Two, Raven Two on the ice. Taxiing to the drill site.” Jim told him it would take about forty minutes to offload the piping and drilling equipment. He showed him every knob, switch, and dial in the console room. He even showed him how he was tracking a couple of commercial flights out of Europe doing the great circle route over Greenland on their way to Detroit and Toronto. Dave’s cover story was to be the Air Force Contracting Officers Technical Representative, COTR for the Space Command modifications. He was the on-site inspector. Sort of like the IG. No wonder everyone was treating him like royalty here and he was getting the VIP room.

      Jim asked him about the Space Command site upgrades that he would be overseeing to support the Space Shuttle polar orbit launches out of Vandenberg AFB in California. Dave smiled, “Well, if I tell you, I’d have to shoot you.” Jim smiled and said, “Well, I’ll bet you my gun is bigger than your gun. We have two old M-1 carbine rifles in the cabinet over there. I don’t think they’ve ever been fired in over twenty years. Do bullets have a shelf life?” Dave laughed, “Don’t know. What do you suppose they have them up here for? Hold off being overrun by the Russians, put down a mutiny, take out a few polar bears, and protect the site from space aliens?” Jim replied, “Might be some element of truth in all the above.” Dave gave him a disbelieving look, “You mean they’re here to protect you from little green men?” Jim laughed, “Hell, no, I’m talking about the polar bears. We do get them every once in a while up here. Even though we’re over a hundred miles from the east coast, they do come out here. And when they get here, they are very hungry, and mean as hell. I’ll continue with your site safety training. Anyone working outdoors is issued a bear cracker. And, no, it isn’t something to eat. It is a quarter stick of dynamite. You light it like a flare and then toss it at a bear to scare it away. However, they don’t work very well. All that happens is that a bunch of other bears hear the noise and figure out that there must be food this way.”

      Just then the handheld radio came to life, “Jim, this is Vince. Our good professors request the presence of our VIP. I’ve had his arctic gear delivered to his room. Could you run him down and have him suited up? I’ll have Jorgen waiting for him with a snowcat at the bottom of the stairs.” Jim replied, “Roger, Captain Sheridan is in the console room with me. He copies.”

      Jim gave Dave some pointers on how to bundle up and cover exposed skin. He then went to his room and opened the arctic survival gear duffle bag and put on long johns, fatigues, iron pants, two pair of thermal socks, a parka, and a pair of deerskin gloves. He pulled on his mukluks which were genuine seal skin. Nothing was ever found that could substitute for a good pair of mukluks. He then put on his ski mask, glasses and goggles.

      Dave stopped by the console room on his way out. Jim gave him a status check to make sure he was properly suited up for a trek on the icecap. The extra pounds he was wearing were taking a toll as he exited the complex and climbed down the stairs and headed towards the snowcat. Jorgen saw him descend and opened the door for him as he climbed up into the cab. In a thick Danish accent, Jorgen welcomed him to DYE-3 and told him to sit back and enjoy the ride over to the ice drilling camp. They could barely see the tail of a C-130 off on the horizon. “Why are they so far out?” Jorgen replied, “For a couple of reasons. Their gravimetric instrumentation is very sensitive. They need to get clear of the DYE site vibrations and structural steel. They are also located in a radar beam side lobe gap. They aren’t constantly bombarded every sixty seconds with umpteen thousand watts of radar energy. The camp is about five miles out. They are far enough away to be clear of the site and close enough for logistics support and emergencies. We will be there in about ten minutes. Captain, help yourself to some hot coffee from the thermos there. It is always good to warm up the gut if you can before you venture out onto the ice.”

      “Sounds like good advice.” He poured himself a cup of thick Danish coffee and sipped it down. He was beginning to wonder if the Air Force had a caffeine addiction program. He could see he was going to have to learn to like this stuff.

      About halfway there, they could see that the C-130 was beginning to taxi towards them.

      “They must be finished offloading the drilling supplies. They will taxi the five miles back to the DYE-3 site and use the skiway to take off. It is too bumpy out here for them to get enough air speed to attempt to lift off.” It was kind of strange to pass a C-130 coming at you, but Dave and Jorgen waved to the pilot as he passed off to the left on his way back to the skiway.

      As the snowcat neared the drilling camp, they could see a few tents set up and a few large cargo containers strung together. Off to one end was a drilling derrick. Another snowcat was pulling a huge sled full of piping and crates towards the derrick. Jorgen pulled the snowcat up to the cargo container and got on the handheld. The handheld was a small radio which had a thirty mile range that was line of sight limited. “Vince, this is Jorgen. We are outside now.”

      “Roger, we’ll be out in a minute.” Vince and Rapp exited the cargo container and opened the back door of the snowcat and climbed in. The snowcat had bench seating along both walls and had a couple of cable drums turned on their sides to use as desks and tables.

      Rapp’s beard was already frosted over when he climbed in. “Welcome to the Apple Orchard, Captain.” Dave thought the code name for this camp was kind of funny. “Why is this place called the Apple Orchard?” Rapp smiled and said, “In deference to Sir Isaac Newton and his falling apple that revolutionized the world of physics. We are about to change the world here, too.”

      Rapp pulled a PVC tube from the wall of the snowcat and pulled out a set of drawings. He rolled them out on the table. “This is one of six camps located up here. We are spread out in a pentagon pattern of about four miles apart with the sixth located in the center. We are drilling eight inch diameter holes through the ice down to within five hundred feet of the bedrock nearly two kilometers below us. We are looking for several things. First, any signs of torsional waves. Second, any signs of gravitational waves. These are much harder to detect due to their long wavelengths, and then, lastly, for any variances in the Universal Gravitational Constant, alias the big G, that we explained to you in Sonde.”

      Vince told Jorgen to head for the drilling rig. The snowcat lurched forward. When they reached the rig, Vince and Rapp leapt out the back as Dave crawled out of the cab and was surprised at how warm it felt outside. The sun was bright and there was no wind. The snow was crisp and powdery dry under his feet. He followed Rapp and Vince into the canvas covered derrick. Inside was a tripod frame about fifty feet tall with chain hoists and rigging. Several pieces of pipe were stacked vertically along one side of the frame. Timken and another man were bending over the generator on the backside of the rig. Dave couldn’t quite make out the discussion, but it was pretty intense and sounded like a few Russian expletives were thrown in for good measure.

      “Dostal, dostal. Dis a pizdet. Da balvin.” Just then Timken turned and saw Dave, Vince, and Rapp. He threw up his