Title: Left Behind 1/?
Author: frkwerewolf
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Spander, Wesley/Gunn UST, Oz/Tara
Rating: R
Summary: AU. In the midst of the Artic, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and his crew make a discovery that could change humanity's understanding of the past and each other forever.
Notes: This story is inspired by and based off of a French book called The Ice People by Rene Barjavel, written in the late sixties and translated into English in 1970. I highly recommend this book if you can find it.
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce would never be able to explain what happened that summer. This was not becuase he did not have all of the facts or because he was not there at the time of activity. No, Wesley would never be able to describe the events becuase what had happened there, in the middle of Antartica, was so private and emotional that he could not bare the thought of tainting the events by allowing others to hear.
The project was a collaboration between the countries of the world. With the world's resources dwindling every second of every day, those in power were concerned not only for their people but for the world's economy. It was no secret that the majority of the world's leaders were involved in the oil industry and, because of the fact that oil was becomming less and less reliable, were scared of their own chance at bankruptcy.
It was because of this that the United Nations created a team of multi-national men and women to search the Antartic for new forms of fuel.
Wesley was from Britain, born and raised in an upper class family. He had been sent to the best schools available and knew nearly everything there was to know on chemical and industrial engineering.
Charles Gunn, who sat to Wesley's right, was a tall, dark man from Africa. He spoke English as well as any person who had been raised on it did and, upon meeting Wesley, immediately launched into what could only be described as a campaign to get Wesley to blush. Wesley had to admit he liked the man, who not only was consistantly smiling but who understood world languages more than anyone he had ever met. Technically, Charles--or rather, Gunn, as he insisted on being called--was to be their main translator, but he had confided in Wesley that he had a better idea in mind. Wesley wasn't sure what he meant, but he suppose he'd learn soon enough.
Buffy Summers was a perky young woman from America that not only held up the concept that Americans were full of themselves, but the idea that looks were very decieving. She sat across from Wesley, smacking on a piece of gum, completely oblivious to the world around her. Yet, Wesley knew from the report he had recieved that she was the best computer technichian they could have.
Next to Buffy was Daniel Osbourne, a quiet young man that had thus far spoke only long enough to isist they all call him Oz. He was originally from America, but had spent so much time in the depths of southeast Asia that he had gained citizenship there quite some time ago. Oz was the resident mathematician, though he was the strangest math geek that Wesley had ever seen. He looked more like a punk rocker than anything.
Oz leaned to his left, hand reaching out to trail along the soft arm of the woman sitting next to him. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she replied, her soft accent from Eastern Europe catching Wesley momentarily off guard. She smiled, softly and gently, at her husband. "It was the plane ride, that's all."
Tara McClay-Osbourne was Oz's wife of three years. She was the most soft spoken woman Wesley had ever met and her touch, upon shaking her hand, told him why she had been chosen as the group's medic. He had heard from Gunn that Tara had been throwing up that very morning. He was certain it was the climate change. He, himself, had arrived at the selected one in Antartica merely two days before and had berely been able to get out of bed.
Wesley fought down a yawn and glanced briefly out the window. They were in the small, but durable, building that resided over the ice. A mere elevator ride down was all it took to reach the depths of the building, hidden underneath layer and layer of ice. Everything but the conference room and a small office that allowed them to connect to the outside world was downstairs.
Wesley looked up as a two women strode into the room. The first, with bright red hair and a brilliant smile, was Willow Rosenburg, from Russia. Willow was a mechanical engineer and would work with Wesley to ensure all of the equipment was working smoothly.
The other woman was Cordelia Chase, from New Zealand. Cordelia gave off the air, much like Buffy did, that she wasn't very intelligent. Wesley knew better. Cordelia was the world's leading anthropologist and archeologist. It had seemed strange, at first, to have someone of her skill on the team. Yet, Cordelia made it very clear upon meeting him that her job was to make sure they didn't dig into something that could turn out to be the archeological find of the century. She was, essentially, there to make sure the intellectuals of the world didn't fuss too much.
Willow and Cordelia sat down near Buffy just as the last member of the team entered the room, a stack of folders in his hand. Lindsey McDonald was dressed in a business suit which clearly portrayed his job: lawyer. Wesley really wasn't quite sure what to think of Lindsey, he appeared to be a bit of an enigma. However, it was his job to make sure that everything that was done under the ice didn't break any laws. Lindsey had been born and raised in the American south, but spent a good portion of his time in Latin America and spoke the native languages there even more fluently than he did English.
The language barrier wasn't as strong as Wesley had thought it would be. The majority of them could speak some English, if they were fluent in it. The problem came in the thick accents this language was often speaking in. When Wesley had greeted Oz the man had spoke rapidly, with a swing in his voice that made Wesley do a doubletake. That and the fact that the minor workers that where downstairs at the moment all spoke different languages was why they needed Gunn.
"First things first," Lindsey announced, handing out the folders, "it appears Mr. Gunn has an announcement to make."
"With some help from Buffy I managed to get my little project up and fully functional," Gunn anounced, grinning. He reached under the table and pulled out a thick metal box. "I need all of you to place this in your ear."
We followed the order, trusting Gunn enough to know it wasn't some prank. The earpiece was small and comfortable on his ear. He turned and looked at Gunn, who immediately launched into a grand speech in Swahili. Wesley blinked, his jaw dropping open as the ear piece began speaking in a clear, British accent, translating everything that Gunn was saying.
"How in the hell did you manage this?" Cordelia demanded, pulling the earpiece out and staring at it.
"It's a simply process of getting a computer to understand the basics of language development," Gunn said with a shrug. Cordelia frowned, thinking about that as he placed the ear piece back in her ear. Across the table, Buffy was smiling smugly. "That and a little help from the resident computer nerd."
"I'm not a nerd," Buffy immediately protested.
"That's enough of that," Lindsey interrupted. "I see those who have just arrived at getting adjusted well. This is a three year project, broken into eight month intervals. You'll be spending the next eight months with each other, so do the world a favour and get along."
Wesley, having already heard all of the details of the project, reached over and pulled the folder toward him. He flipped it open, immediately recognizing the graphing images from a computer.
"Now, as much as I had hoped this will go smoothly, we have a problem," Lindsey admitted, stiffly, "Cordelia, perhaps you should begin."
"Right," Cordelia agreed, standing. "What you're seeing on the first page is the digital readout from one of our computers. The computer is connected to one of the machines we've been using to search under the ice, making sure we don't hit anything too strong for our drills to handle. What you're seeing there? That's not metal and it's not oil."
"What is it?" Buffy asked.
"If you'll turn the page you'll notice it has a distinct square like shape," Cordelia continued. "Ladies and gentlement, what we're looking at is an underground building."
"I don't want to sound like the stupid one here, but huh?" Willow piped up, looking confused.
"To be quite honest, that's what I'm thinking as well," Cordelia admitted. "There are no records of a civilization that lived here long enough to build a city on this continent. Of course, it's reasonable to say that the reason for no records is becuase no one has really bothered to look too hard, but the fact remains...I have no clue as to what that is. All I know is it looks like a building readout to me."
"It's large," Oz commented, "like the size of a shopping mall."
"What does this mean for us?" Wesley asked. "Does this effect the project any?"
"Possibly," Lindsey said. "At the moment the U.N. is meeting on the topic and trying to decide if we should continue. Until then we'll keep drilling."
"We will, however, be moving a few of the drills so we don't hit whatever the hell's down there," Cordelia stated. "While this could be an amazing find, if we damage it in any way we'll be in big trouble with more than one country."
"That's all for today," Lindsey announced.
Wesley picked up the folder, fliping through all of the information of the so-called building below them. He stood, pushing his chair back into place before heading for the elevator. Gunn, Oz, and Tara joined him on the way down. Tara and Oz remained in the corner of the elevator, Tara's face slightly freen from the downward motion.
As Wesley stepped into the hallway a few members of the small drilling team passed by him, speaking in their native tongue. Wesley was amazed to hear their words translated into his ear and couldn't help but turn to Gunn. "This invention of yours is amazing."
"Yeah, well, I try," Gunn replied with a wide grin. "Do you have any plans for this evening?"
"I have to check the with my team to make sure the shift the drill coordinates properly, but otherwise I'm free. Why?" Wesley replied.
"I was just asking," Gunn said with a smirk.
"You're planning something, aren't you?" Wesley stated, not at all shocked by the concept of Gunn being mischievious.
"Well, you see, I have to moniter the language program this evening," Gunn told him, "and I was thinking I could really do with some company from a visually appealing individual such as yourself."
Wesley felt a dull blush start at the base of his throat and fought to keep it down. "I suppose that could be a fascinating oppurtunity to see the fruits of your labor in action."
Gunn's grin was slow in starting. "Yeah, English, something like that."