Day One Hundred and Sixteen

Day 116: 25 Nov 2010

The God of the Land has not been as easy to raise as we were lead to believe. For one, he's deep down. Much deeper than the researchers in the West Coast Syndicate thought. Working to free him-- to claw through the ice -- has been hard. My soldiers do not complain, but of course, they wouldn't.

We have no drilling tools or heavy machinery with us. We brought none. There was none at the base. We did not think we would need it -- the West Coast information said perhaps five feet of ice, no more. We passed five feet a day and a half ago. We're now three times that depth, and still no closer to the God of the Land, it seems.

And now, another problem. A sentry -- one of my men I sent ten miles out to scout the area and report back -- has not returned. He would not be late. That's something that is not possible for his slug. Nor is an accident that would leave him crippled. There is nothing in this environment that could incapacitate him.

This leaves me with only one other possibility for his absence. Someone has delayed him. And that. . . that is very bad news.