Robert grinned and pushed his glasses higher on his nose, pleased at the opportunity to explain. "BUD was originally a military project for tracking submarines around the globe. It was so sensitive that, when placed underwater, it could hear a dolphin fart a thousand miles away."

Willard smiled. "Dolphins fart?"

Robert ignored the question and continued. "The equipment picked up so much noise that software had to be written that would filter out organic sounds. Even after they removed all the whale calls, struggling fish and barking seals, they had to filter out man-made noises like recreational vehicles and underwater construction. When they were done, they could hear every sub under the water and track them to within a few yards."

"I don't think there are any submarines in Lake Vostok," Willard said.

"Quite true," Robert said. "I've removed all the software."

"Leaving us with one of the most sensitive microphones in the world," Connelly said as she stood and walked back to the coffee maker.

"Right," Willard said, "but how does that help you? You're looking for microorganisms."

"The point is, if there is anything, anything at all, making noise down there, we're going to hear it. Geothermal vents, shifting ice, even the microorganisms themselves. If there is any noise at all, we're going to hear it loud and clear."

"A microscopic symphony," Willard said.

"You got it," Connelly said as she returned with three piping hot mugs of coffee, which she placed on the table.

"OK," Willard said, "that's cool. But I still don't understand the significance of finding anything below the ice or even how you expect something to be alive down there. Like I said before, I'm no scientist—"

"That goes without saying," Robert said with a smile as he raised his steaming mug to his lips.

Willard continued, "—but the pressure must be intense. Not to mention the lack of sunlight and food."

"Ahh," Robert said as he finished taking a sip of the rich Columbian coffee. "Perhaps there's hope for the boy yet. That was actually an intelligent statement." Robert looked at Connelly. "You want to field this one, Kath?"

Connelly nodded, crossed her legs, and after taking a long sip from her mug, she looked at Willard. "Lake Vostok is buried beneath 4,000 meters of ice."

Willard opened his mouth to say something, but Connelly seemed to read his mind. "Roughly 13,000 feet," she said.

Willard closed his mouth and Connelly continued. "This means that any life we find down there has been cut off from the modern world for a million years. This life would most likely be in the form of microbes we call extremophiles.

"Like me," Willard said.

Robert chuckled. "Your penchant for extreme sports is a choice, Mr. Willard. These creatures have no option but to survive, sometimes thrive, in the most inhospitable environments on Earth."