167: Chapter 167 The Distance of a Song

The next day's trek was even more difficult. The surface of the ice sheet became rugged, concealing ice ridges and fissures covered by fresh snow. The tracked vehicle crawled slowly and steadily, the roar of its engine carrying far in the silence. Alex's [Energy Perception] remained in a state of extended alert, like invisible tentacles sweeping across the road ahead and the ice walls on both sides, sensing the energy flow and structural stress in advance. He subtly reminded the driver to adjust directions several times, avoiding potential weak areas. Captain Ice Ridge looked at him with a gaze that held a few more hints of thoughtful recognition.

In the afternoon, they arrived at the predetermined coordinates. The place looked no different from its surroundings—a relatively flat snowfield, except for a small-scale ice cliff in the distance that looked like a frozen gray wave.

The camp was quickly established. With an almost pilgrim-like posture, the doctor directed the team members to unload the main detection equipment from the vehicle. In addition to the upgraded sonic receiver array, there were several instruments that looked like ground-penetrating radar and micro-gravimeters, and even a small, self-assembly thermal drilling device—used for obtaining ice core samples or, Alex guessed, possibly for deploying more sophisticated sensors deep into the ice layer.

“We need at least 36 hours of continuous multimodal monitoring,” the doctor's voice was slightly shrill with excitement. “Acoustics, vibration, electromagnetism, thermal radiation... catching it from all angles. Based on last night's signal characteristics, peak activity might appear around local dusk.”

Alex assisted in setting up the recording equipment. This time, they buried three sets of high-sensitivity microphones in a triangular array at different depths in the snow, connecting them to the modified Nagra and a multi-channel digital recorder. He intentionally pointed one set of equipment toward the distant ice cliff, as [Energy Perception] vaguely suggested that the energy structure inside the ice there seemed to have subtle 'irregularities.'

After the setup was complete, there were still several hours until the expected 'window period.' The team members took turns resting and standing guard. Alex was scheduled for the first round of rest. He returned to the tent but wasn't sleepy; he took out his satellite data terminal, sent the routine security code, and briefly checked the messages from the rear.

Taylor had sent an audio attachment with a message: “A demo of a new song, no lyrics yet. Listen and see how it feels.” It was followed by a smiling emoji.

Alex put on his headphones and clicked the attachment. A simple piano intro, clear and with a hint of coolness, like sunlight reflecting off the ice field. Then came Taylor's signature voice, humming a wordless melody—ethereal, resilient, and harboring a certain sense of exploration. In the middle, the music added the subtle tinkling of metallic wind chimes and a layer of very low-frequency electronic padding that was almost imperceptible but definitely present, creating a strange sense of space suspended above the silence.

He closed his eyes and listened quietly in the distant ice field tent. Taylor's music was like a warm spring, flowing through his nerves tightened by the extreme cold and the unknown. He could 'hear' the care and waiting contained in the music, as well as a wonderful resonance with his current situation—the exploration of secrets beneath the silence, the echo of the unknown.

After listening once, he replied: “Like starlight beneath the ice. Beautiful. Wait for me to come back and write the lyrics.” Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added: “It's very quiet here, but not silent. I hear... something.”

He didn't elaborate, but he believed Taylor would understand.

When his rest period ended, Alex returned to the monitoring point to replace the doctor. Dusk arrived as scheduled, and the polar sky once again performed its magic of shifting colors, but no one was in the mood to appreciate it now. All instruments were active, and data streams rolled silently across the screens. The sound of the wind seemed to have lessened, and the world fell into a deeper, expectant stillness.

Alex put on the monitoring headphones, synchronized the focus of [Energy Perception] with the acoustic receiver array, and cast his full attention deep into the ice layer.

For the first half-hour, there was only regular background noise. Then, as if to confirm the doctor's prediction, the change began.

First, intermittent energy bulges began to appear in several specific low-frequency bands on the digital spectrograph—not a continuous hum, but a series of extremely short, irregularly spaced 'pulses.' Next, the buried vibration sensors also recorded corresponding, extremely weak non-periodic vibrations.

What made Alex's hair stand on end most was the analog output from the Nagra reel-to-reel machine. In the headphones, those pulses were transformed into a sound similar to 'tapping'—not ice cracking, but more like a rhythmic 'knocking' trying to convey something, coming from a very deep and distant place. It was as faint as a hallucination, but under the synchronized confirmation of [Energy Perception], it was clear and unmistakable.

Moreover, along with the 'knocking' sounds, he perceived obvious, small-scale 'wrinkles' and 'rebounds' in the energy field at corresponding positions deep in the ice, as if something were stirring invisible ripples in the medium of the ice. The way these ripples spread... was completely different from conventional stress release, possessing an indescribable 'structural' quality that even faintly pointed toward the ice cliff.

“Recorded it! Clear pulse sequences! Abnormal attenuation patterns!” The doctor stared at the screen, his voice kept very low, yet unable to suppress the trembling. “It's not an earthquake, not a cryoseism... it's like, it's like...”

“Like a code,” Alex interjected suddenly, surprised himself by the word that slipped out. But the intervals and intensity changes of those pulses, when combined in his perception, truly gave him a sense of a non-random, almost minimalist coded sequence.

The doctor snapped his head toward him, his eyes wide behind his glasses, then quickly turned back to the screen, his fingers tapping rapidly on the control panel to perform finer filtering and pattern analysis. “Need more data... continuous recording... if we can capture a longer sequence...”

However, just as they were fully concentrated, a guide responsible for the outer perimeter suddenly whispered over the communication channel: “Toward the ice cliff! There's an abnormal reflection! It's moving!”

Everyone was instantly alert. Captain Ice Ridge immediately ordered: “Alex, Doctor, continue recording, but be ready to evacuate at any time! Everyone else, on guard!”

While maintaining the stable operation of the equipment, Alex cast a portion of his [Energy Perception] toward the ice cliff. In the fading twilight, a faint, unnatural cold blue reflection occasionally flashed across certain areas of the ice cliff's surface, like metal scraping past, and its position was slowly changing. It wasn't an animal (there were almost no large animals here), nor was it any known scientific equipment.

What made Alex's heart tighten even more was that at the same time those reflections appeared, he perceived brief, synchronized 'disturbances' in the originally uneven energy structure inside the ice cliff, as if something were moving inside, or... being activated?

“Pulse signal intensity is increasing!” the doctor reported urgently. “The sequence is also lengthening! Damn it, what is it responding to?”

Was it their detection activity that attracted 'it'? Or was the thing over by the ice cliff inherently active periodically, just reaching a small peak now?

The unknown knocking came from deep beneath their feet, the eerie reflection moved on the ice cliff, and the signal was strengthening... all of it wove together into a dangerous web. Alex glanced at the recording equipment; the data was being stored steadily. He took a deep breath of the bone-chilling air and forced himself to stay calm.

“Doctor, focus on the data. Captain, how much longer is our safety window?” he asked through the internal channel, his voice surprisingly steady.

“Twenty minutes at most. Regardless of what is recorded, we must begin packing up in twenty minutes and prepare to move or defend.” Ice Ridge's voice was resolute.

Twenty minutes. Alex refocused all his attention on monitoring and perception. In this brief and dangerous window, he wanted to 'hear' as clearly as possible what the mysterious knocking deep beneath the ice was trying to say, and remember every detail of the energy disturbances inside the ice cliff.

In distant Los Angeles, Taylor had just finished a conference call. She walked onto the balcony and looked at the night sky. The rain had stopped, and the clouds had parted, revealing a few stars. She involuntarily looked toward the north.

“Whatever you are listening to,” she whispered to herself, “come back safely and tell me what that melody is.”

On the ice field, the wind rose again, mingled with faint, unnatural whispers from the earth. And the listener stood waiting, focused.