Silver Leaf, Nebraska


    October 3, 2004


    Weyland Industries Satellite Receiving Station # 6-D


    A loud warning chime sounds from the main computer. Satellite Technician Anthony Reyes stares in disbelief at the flashing image on the screen. He clambers to his feet, motioning to his colleagues.


    “Hey, hey. Come here. Take a look at this,” Anthony exclaims, his voice cracking from nervousness.


    Nathan Stanley, a strapping man of about six-foot-three, reaches into a nearby pizza box and gives Reyes the stink-eye. Reyes is a man with panic in his blood. Whatever is wrong, it can’t be that bad.


    Morgan Stillwater and Nancy Rodriguez, Anthony’s other colleagues, are of a different opinion. They follow Anthony over to the flashing monitor.


    “What the hell?” Morgan mutters. His eyes refuse to believe what he is seeing. “Unidentified heat signature? What the hell does that mean?”


    Nancy crowds close to Anthony, attempting to view the coordinates on the screen. The information displayed makes absolutely no sense.


    “What is that?” Nancy questions.


    “It’s an updated data stream from PS12,” Anthony says in a quivering voice. He clenches a fist at his side, excitement nearly getting the better of him.


    “PS12? Where is she located?” Nancy asks, her eyes growing cartoonishly large. "What are we looking at?"


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    “She’s right above Sector 14!” Anthony explains.


    Anthony gazes at the screen as if it were the most miraculous thing he has ever seen. Nancy swivels her head to offer him an incredulous glare.


    “Sector 14?” Nancy repeats his words back. “Be serious, Anthony! There’s nothing in Sector 14. Are you reading the data correctly?"


    Anthony points at the screen with a shaking finger. A reluctant smile tugs at his lips.


    “Oh yeah? I know these coordinates like the back of my hand, Nancy. There''s something there now,” Anthony says with finality.


    Both Nancy and Morgan share a brief worried look. Anthony’s right. That heat bloom came out of nowhere. But it can’t stay a mystery forever. Mr. Weyland will want to know about it.


    -


    -


    Charles Bishop Weyland takes a sip from his piping hot mug of cocoa and looks around for a stirrer. Most of the chocolate powder has coagulated at the bottom of his mug, making the warm delight anything but. Finding the stirrer beside the image of his father and another powerful magnate, Weyland stirs his drink without even looking at the cup.


    A message appears on his laptop screen and Weyland scans over it with a furrowed brow. He releases the stirrer in his hand and reaches for the small cellphone at the edge of his desk. He rapidly dials a number. A strongly accented male voice answers on the other line.


    "Yes, Mr. Weyland?"


    "Max, I want you to get a team together. And make sure you dress warm. One of our satellites over Antarctica has picked up something out of the ordinary. I want to check it out...Personally."


    "Is there anyone in particular...That you had in mind, Mr. Weyland?"


    "Yeah. Make sure you hire that Quinn fellow. The driller. Same rates as always. And that climbing expert...What''s her name? Alexandria Woodruff...Or some other? You know the one. Our lawyers dealt with her a couple summers ago. The land rights deal."


    "You mean, Alexa Woods?" Max informs his floundering boss. A smile turns up the corner of the company man''s lips. Now, there is a name he had hoped to hear again.


    "Yes, that''s the one," Charles agrees. "Tell her money is no problem. Just get her on the team. I want to be out of here yesterday."


    "I''ll do my best, Mr. Weyland."


    "I''ll need you to do better than that, Max! Get her here. Understand?"


    "Yes, Sir."


    Weyland hangs up the phone without ensuring that Max has no more to add.