"You two seem to know each other already," said the Egyptian geologist, Khalid Najmon, who sat across the booth next to Linda Furstenburg. His smile glowed against his desert tan, handsome in a dark way. "Have you known each other long?" he asked before taking a sip of his wine.

"No. We sat together at the meeting," Ashley explained. "Otherwise, we're complete strangers."

Ben feigned hurt feelings. " 'Strangers' is such a dirty word."

"Well," Khalid said, "while Mr. Brust was fetching drinks, I've been getting better acquainted with Professor Furstenburg."

"Please, call me Linda." She blushed a bit and kept pushing a loose strand of blond hair back over an ear. Her manner was outwardly relaxed, but she kept glancing around the room with glassy eyes.

He nodded. "Linda was just telling me about her doctorate research. Evolutionary biology. She's been studying the development of phosphorescent algae in cavern systems. Most fascinating."

"I've seen some of that glowing algae," Ben said. "In a cave in Madagascar. There were caverns so thick with the stuff that you almost wished you had sunglasses."

Linda nodded. "Rinchari luminarus. A beautiful species. Comes in a variety of colors too." She talked about how the individual species differed.

Ashley's attention drifted from the conversation. She studied Linda as she spoke. Her eyes were so blue that Ashley wondered if they were real. Her physique was ample, soft, with small hands, a child's delicate fingers. A direct contrast to Ashley's hard, lean body. No one would ever describe Ashley as soft.

Khalid never took his eyes from Linda, nodding every now and then as she continued her description. He was obviously entranced by more than just the genetic variations of glowing sludge. Even Ben had a perpetual smile on his lips as he listened.

Ashley felt like a piece of granite next to a rose. She swallowed her whiskey.

"… and that's how I received my doctorate."

"I can see why Dr. Blakely wanted you," Ashley said. The two men seemed to come out of a trance. "Your knowledge of unique evolutionary pathways will be helpful in documenting our exploration."

Ben cleared his throat. "Definitely an asset."

Khalid nodded. "Indeed."

Ben finally turned away from Linda. "So, Khalid, what's your angle? A geologist, huh?"

He sipped his drink, then spoke, "The Antarctic Treaty of 1959."

"Come again?" Ben asked.

"No one owns Antarctica. The 1959 treaty declared the continent to be used only for peaceful, scientific purposes. A world park."

"Yeah, I know about that. Australia has a few bases there."

"Yes, but did you know that because of the treaty's prohibition against mineral exploration, the extent of Antarctica's mineral wealth is still unknown? It's a big blank slate."

Khalid allowed that to sink in before continuing. "Well, the treaty ended in 1991. The continent is now open for mineral exploration, but with one critical stipulation: The land must be protected from damage."

It dawned on Ashley. The implications were enormous. "These subterranean tunnels will allow you to explore the continent's mineral wealth without harm to the surface."

"Yes," he said, nodding. "And any deposits-oil, minerals, precious stones-discovered are the property of the government who finds them."

"With the U.S. government's lust for future territorial claims," she said, "it's no wonder the National Science Foundation has been so generous with their funding. But who exactly are we in bed with here?"

"I imagine it's a combination of science, commerce, and politics," Khalid answered-and then with a grin, "I suppose much like your government's Manhattan Project."

Ashley scowled. "Great. And look how wonderful that turned out."

"So what do you think the likelihood of a significant find is?" Linda asked, drawing the Egyptian's attention.

"Considering that a researcher discovered Mount Erebus's volcanic plume emits gold dust-the only plume to do so on the planet-I think this research team's salary will be more than adequately covered."

"Gold in volcano smoke," Ben said. "Sounds pretty far-fetched."

Khalid scowled briefly at the interruption. "It's been widely written up."

The other team members remained silent. Dumbstruck.

Ashley bristled. Once again Blakely had failed to reveal the full extent of this mission. First the armed escort, and now this. "I don't know if I like this," she said. "Raping a continent. And for whose benefit?"

Linda nodded in agreement.

Everyone sat quietly, pondering the sobering news.

Then Ben, in a sudden outburst, destroyed the somber reverie. "To hell with it. Let's go dancing! It's the flipping birthplace of the tango. C'mon, Buenos Aires is just waking up."

Ashley frowned. This Australian sheepherder never stops, she thought. "I'll pass. I have a son to tuck into bed."

Khalid also shook his head. "We don't dance the tango in my country."

Linda brightened. "I'll go. I'd like to get out of this stuffy hotel."

"Superb!" Ben said. "I know of a bar in the San Telmo district. Quaint and authentic."

Ben scooted out of the booth and gave Linda his hand. "The night and the stars await us," he declared with a slight bow.

Bashfully, Linda smiled at Ben's drama.

As the two walked away, Ashley noticed Khalid's brows lower. He mumbled something in Arabic, then said his good-byes to her and slipped from the table also.

She watched as Ben escorted Linda across the bar. A small burst of her tinkling laughter could be heard as the two exited onto the street.

Ashley remained, nursing the rest of her drink. As if on cue, the plangent chords of a tango began wailing from the bar's speakers. The sultry music just made her feel that much lonelier.

IN A PLANE AGAIN, ASHLEY THOUGHT SOURLY, HER NOSE pressed to the window. Down below, glacier fought granite from horizon to horizon.

This was the final leg of the two-day journey. Yesterday, they had flown the eight hundred miles from Buenos Aires to Esperanza, the Argentine army base on the tip of an Antarctic Peninsula. There, Ashley had her first taste of Antarctic air-like ice water poured into her lungs. The team overnighted at the base's military barracks and the next morning were hauled once again aboard the Argentine transport. By noon, Blakely had promised, they would reach their final destination, the U.S. naval base McMurdo.

Ashley longed to spend more than twenty-four hours outside an airplane's cabin. She pushed herself up a bit to see if Jason was behaving himself. He was seated across the rattling cabin next to Ben, talking animatedly, his hands expressive. The two had become fast friends since bunking together in the male dormitory of the barracks in Esperanza.

Ben noticed her stare and grinned over Jason's head at her. The Australian was demonstrating admirable patience. Jason's stories could get long-winded.

"He's fine," said Major Michaelson, seated next to her.

Startled, she snapped at him. "I didn't ask for your opinion."

"I just meant…" He shook his head with a frown. "Never mind."

Ashley bit her lower lip. He was obviously just trying to reassure her. "I'm sorry. That wasn't directed at you. I just have these nagging doubts about bringing Jason along."

The tension in his shoulders seemed to relax. "Your son has a lot of spunk. He'll do fine."

"Thanks. But what about Ben? He didn't come on this mission to be my baby-sitter."

The major smiled. "Maybe some of Jason's maturity will rub off on him."

She chuckled. "That man sure is a walking showboat."