Going Back Cold
Contents
Praise for The Senator's Youngest Daughter
Also by Kelley Rose Waller
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
YEAR ONE
Personnel Roster
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
YEAR TWO
Personnel Roster
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
YEAR THREE
Personnel Roster
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
YEAR FOUR
Personnel Roster
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
From the Author
Acknowledgments
Versive Press
PRAISE FOR THE SENATOR’S YOUNGEST DAUGHTER
“This is a book that starts off with a heavy dose of intrigue, and that is a thread that is woven strongly through the pages of the entire book. There are schemes within schemes, hidden traitors on both sides of the conflict, and an overall sense of political madness... And that, really, is what makes this book shine. The characters are great and you’ll have strong feelings about what happens with many of them... But it is the reality that strikes home—this sort of scenario could very easily happen at some point in our country’s future—that really sets this book apart.” —Author David Wiley
“It was rip-roaring good suspense as Brenna and her family attempt to rescue first their kidnapped father, then rescue their country from the hands of a power-crazed dictator (who proves a dictator is a dictator. Left, right, centre. The politics don’t matter. What matters is the power, and their willingness not to allow law or civil liberties to get in their way).” —Suspense Sisters, review by Iola Goulton
“Such a page-turner, I finished the entire thing in a 24-hour period. It was not only an easy read (with suspense, action, drama and a little romance weaved in), it was also a novel that really makes you think... This is a story in which absolute power corrupts absolutely. We see inside all the propaganda and political lies. Sadly, we also see the results of the masses being discontent with what government is doing but not willing to act on their convictions. Both disbelief in the power of the people and sheer laziness make this nation waver toward an extremely destructive path.” —Val Good, reviewer
ALSO BY KELLEY ROSE WALLER
The Senator’s Youngest Daughter
KELLEY ROSE WALLER
Going Back Cold
Copyright © 2019 Kelley Rose Waller
Cover design & interior layout by Lime Creative
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For information, visit kelleyrosewaller.com.
ISBN: 978-1792938528
For Mercy Rose
For Mickey Jack
For Z
❤
Mommy loves you so much,
but still somehow Jesus loves you more.
YEAR ONE
Semotus Base, Victoria Land, Antarctica
Personnel Roster
December 6, 2022
SCIENCE TEAM
Dr. Jane Whyse . . . . . . . . . project leader, physicist
Dr. Lucas Whyse . . . . . . . . . chemist, crystallographer
Ana McDell . . . . . . . . . physics doctoral candidate
Dr. Bonnie Chapman . . . . . . . . . physicist
Dr. Richard Chapman . . . . . . . . . engineering lead
Trevor Fox . . . . . . . . . propulsions engineer
Dr. Riddhi Bidell . . . . . . . . . experimental metallurgist
Candace Hartwell . . . . . . . . . nurse and tutor
SUPPORT STAFF
Pilots Hal Turner
and Simeon Sokolov . . . . . . . . . transportation and maintenance
Cheyenne Marx . . . . . . . . . base administrator
OTHER
Sebastian Whyse, age 3
Dámaris McDell, age 10
13 Total Base Occupants // Four-month season
Respectfully Submitted,
Colonel Keith Edwards, Supervisor, Project Split Horizon
Department of Defense Liaison
NASA Science Mission Directorate
Chapter 1
“Sanguine. Tongue. Ultraviolet. Venice.”
“What’d you say, Jane?” Dr. Lucas Whyse called to his wife.
“Nothing, hun,” she replied. Facing the computer, she continued, “Wolf. Exaggerate. Young. Zenith.”
“What?” Lucas said, leaning in through the doorway.
“Nothing, I’m just setting up the voice controls for the computer,” she explained.
“So, like 'the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog'?”
“Kind of, but it needs to hear me talking and learn the rhythm of my voice.”
“How come you didn’t do that stateside like everyone else, Doctor Procrastination?” he teased as he looked over her shoulder.
She pointed at the icon spinning in the top corner of the screen that appeared when he spoke. “How come it says it’s still identifying your voiceprint?”
“Well, almost everyone else,” he said with a wink. “I’ll go next.”
Lucas kissed her cheek before he walked away. “Gonna check on my rocks,” he called. “I’m still jetlagged. Boat lagged, whatever. The sunlight down here is so confusing. What's the weather for tomorrow?”
“Last estimate said it’s gonna be up to 3 degrees.”
&nbs
p; “Fahrenheit or Celsius?”
“Celsius.”
“Balmy!”
Jane smiled, adjusting the brown hair in her ponytail as she focused back at the console’s monitor. “The thick fog in Paris glides over the bridge near the market. I want a carrot. There’s a bicycle—”
“Mommy?”
“Yes, honey?” Jane said. She turned and smiled as her three-year-old son Sebastian wandered in to the console room where she was working.
“I wanna carrot.”
“What? Oh, I don't have a carrot, sweetie, sorry. Mommy's talking to the computer.”
“Why?”
“The computer is learning to listen to me,” she said, then smiled and added, “Just like you.”
“How come?”
“Well, it saves time if I can use my voice instead of my fingers to tell the computer what to do.”
“Mommy, I’m thirsty.”
“Then pick up your water bottle,” she said, poking his nose gently and gesturing to the abandoned cup in the corner. “Would you like to sit in my lap?”
Sebastian nodded and crawled up, rolling along a Matchbox car he'd received at their early Christmas celebration before they departed New York in mid-November.
“I can do it?” he asked.
“Sure, why not...” Jane said, tapping a few keys.
“Say your name.”
“I'm Sebachin.”
“Sebastian what?”
“Sebachin John Whyse. Now you.”
Jane leaned forward and spoke clearly. “This is Doctor Jane Whyse.”
The computer identified her using her nearly-complete voiceprint. The screen read, Dr. Jane Whyse, Physicist. Split Horizon Project Leader. Age 34.
“Docta Sebachin,” he said, pointing to himself.
Jane laughed. “Good job. Want to say your ABC's?”
He started and made it to ‘G’ before he got bored and unceremoniously smacked the keyboard.
“Sebbie!” She grabbed his hands. “No please! We must be careful with the equipment,” Jane continued, lowering him to the ground. “Why don’t you go drive your car. I'm almost done.”
The windowless, white walls of their new home on the remote Antarctic base sloped inward slightly at the ceiling. It still smelled like construction, and all of the facility’s sights and sounds were unfamiliar to its occupants.
Semotus Base was 14,000 square feet of labs and living space located 110 miles from Antarctica’s largest base, McMurdo Station. Assembled specifically for Jane and Lucas’ promising idea, the facility had a large dome in the middle with five enormous prefabricated lab modules attached to provide working space. Two outbuildings protected the helicopters and covered the generators that would allow their 13-member team to be entirely self-sufficient during each four-month Antarctic summer season.
Sebastian looked at his mommy and drove his car along the industrial grey carpet, making a rumbling sound.
“Let's go outside!” he suggested after a few minutes of listening to his mother read nonsense.
“Oh, buddy, it's way too cold this late. Maybe tomorrow, we can take a little walk,” Jane replied.
Sebastian sulked and rubbed the wheels of his car against his palm.
“Daddy?” he called.
“He went to his lab, little man,” said Cheyenne Marx, Semotus Base’s redheaded administrator, who’d been working quietly at another station in the room. “I can walk him down.”
“Thanks,” Jane replied. “I'm almost done, if I can just finish.”
The sound of ‘combative, interesting, hallelujah, Washington,’ faded behind the toddler and his new friend as they walked down the curved hallways. They passed several identical blue doors with small plaques identifying offices, personal quarters, the cafeteria, and the engineering lab.
Sebbie chattered about his Christmas presents until they arrived at the Gem Lab.
“Special delivery,” Cheyenne said, peeking her head in.
“What? Who brought a kid to Antarctica?” Lucas teased. “Hey bud! Thanks for bringing him down, Cheyenne. Seb, say 'thank you' to Ms. Marx.”
“Kank you!”
“No problem, Sebbie,” she said, ruffling his brown hair. “And, seriously, I’m Cheyenne.” Turning to Lucas, she added, “I'm gonna go pull out dinner.”
“Dinner time! Yay!”
“Soon, Sebbie,” Lucas assured him. “Wanna watch me finish my work?”
“Yep, ok. Whatcha doing?”
“Chemistry,” Lucas replied with a flourish and an air of secrecy that made his son giggle.
Sebastian watched as Lucas stacked up white plastic trays and tapped buttons on the lab’s control units. Dr. Whyse mumbled a few final numbers to himself, then grabbed his tablet.
“Ok, come help Daddy read the numbers on the gauges.”
Sebastian didn't know many of his numbers yet, but he tried his best. As they checked the temperature and pressure on each vacuum chamber, Lucas kept careful record in the database. He verified the chemical balance on a random half-dozen of the drips.
“You making rocks?” Sebastian asked.
“Yep, I'm growing special rocks, dude.”
“Corts?”
“Yes! Quartz, good memory. Growing tiny quartz gems shaped like a circle.”
Sebastian nodded, then lunged to turn a nearby nozzle.
“Whoa, dude!” Lucas yelled, barely grabbing his hand in time. “Come on, buddy, you can't touch stuff! Everything here could be dangerous. Like it’s hot. It's all hot.” For the hundredth time, Lucas questioned the decision to bring his family to the lonely bottom of the earth in pursuit of science.
Sebastian mumbled ‘hot’ warily and tucked his hands into his pockets.
“Come here, Seb,” Lucas said, scooping him up. The chemist who specialized in crystallography finished the task with his son safely perched on his shoulders. “Now, let's go see about dinner.”
Reaching for his tablet, he paged Jane in the main console room as they walked down the hallway. “Jane? We're going in to eat.”
There was no response, and he frowned, but moments later, she turned the corner behind them.
“Hi Mommy!” Sebastian said.
“Hey guys,” she said. “I finally finished setting up my voice profile with MILO. Sorry I'm running behind.”
“MILO! Hey, MILO,” Sebastian said aloud.
The tablet in his father's hands chirped loudly, and the toddler's eyes lit up.
“How come it knows him?” Lucas said in mock offense.
“We set up a five-second profile for him earlier,” Jane replied. “I guess his voice is pretty unique, especially on this crew.”
As he began a proud parade, Sebastian stopped watching where he was going. He tripped as the hallway curved, skinning his knee and elbow on the carpet. Jane grunted and scooped him up to soothe his tears, but had to stifle a laugh as she saw his garbled wails were being transcribed by the computer. The wall panel read-out showed: ‘Ahhh eeee pzzzz Mommy no [unintelligible] oweee no no ahhh stop uh no kiss it [unintelligible] oweee’ until Jane said, “MILO, deactivate transcription.”
“At least now we know what it looks like when somebody’s crying,” Lucas said.
“Do you plan to cry to the psychologists in your video diary a lot, Lu?” Jane teased. Sebbie scowled and sniffled against her shoulder, unimpressed by their banter.
“So, why does the computer have a name?” Lucas asked. “I’d rather trigger it like my phone with 'OK Google' or the TV with 'XBOX'.”
“It’s no different than Siri,” Jane said. “Someone told me NASA wrote the original program as a way to dictate daily mission logs. M-i-L-o.”
Lucas shook his head. “That’s even worse then since it’s not pronounced right. It should be, like, 'mih-lah.' Why can’t we just address it as ‘computer’ like they do on the Enterprise?” he asked. When he whistled the familiar Star Trek theme song, Sebbie couldn’t help but smile.
Jane’s stomach turne
d a bit when she smelled their dinner of all things canned and rehydrated, so she put Sebbie back on his own two feet. She opened the blue door to the cafeteria and put her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder as the crew members in the room turned to look at them.
Cheyenne, the team’s administrator who had walked Sebbie down to Lucas, announced that dinner was meatloaf and pointed to the small server.
“Evening, all,” Hal, one of the team’s pilots said as they joined him at the plastic table. He filled many duties, including general maintenance.
“Who are you?” Sebbie asked with a mouth that was already very full. While the adult members of the team had met several times for planning and orientation, Sebastian had only met the support staff once before they left. He hadn’t put much effort into remembering who was who.
Before Jane could apologize, the man replied, “I’m Hal. Just remember, Hal flies the hal-icopter.”
Simeon, the other pilot, offered a friendly wink before Sebastian lowered his head for his family’s prayer.
After finishing the meal where she repeated 'please eat with your fork not your fingers' at least 50 times, Jane stopped at Cheyenne’s table.
“Can we look over the week's task list in a little?” she asked.
“Good idea,” Cheyenne replied. “How about 8?”
“Sure, I’ll come to you after we put Sebbie to bed.”
Back in their small living quarters of two adjoining rooms, Jane read Sebbie his new Christmas books.
“Mommy, when’s real Christmas?” he asked.
“Nineteen days, I think. Is that right, Lu?”
“Yes, today’s the sixth, so that sounds right,” he replied. “Hey, want to draw an Advent calendar, bud?”
Jane worked on her tablet as father and son sat nearby at the small desk, carefully drawing straight lines with crayons and a ruler until they had made enough boxes. Lucas helped Seb draw a number in each one, counting down to ‘Jesus’ birthday’ as Sebbie referred to it. He’d added a flame on top of the number 1 and a circle underneath so it looked like a birthday cake and candle.