Chapter 15
Beardmore Glacier Camp
Barry, the weatherman, leaned back in the chair, his feet up on the table, earphones draped over his head, static filling the void. His hands were clasped behind his neck and he looked at the ceiling in the posture of one deep in contemplation. The only thing lacking was a coherent thought, but he was sure one would be coming soon.
“Beardmore, this is the Chalet, how copy?” the female voice in his ears announced. Barry fairly jolted out of the chair, his foot sending the mug of cold coffee across the room. He lunged for the volume dial with one hand and ripped the headphones off with the other.
“Nothing but 5’s, Chalet,” he answered after he collected himself and the appropriate apparatus required to make a response possible. Hearing a woman’s voice was the next best thing to having her there, and he tried to sound debonair.
“What news from the accident site, over?” Dr. Fredricks' assistant, Marsha, asked him.
“Just got word,” Barry said affably. “The ones who were on the trailing sled are toast. The rest are on the way back.”
Marsha paused before answering. There were some very unhappy officials where she sat, and they found nothing humorous in any of this.
“What is the ETA at camp?” she asked in a professional sounding voice.
“Couple hours, I guess. Not sure.”
“The Captain,” she replied pointedly, “is very concerned and I am coordinating between him and the NSF reps. Is there anything you would like me to tell him?” she asked sweetly.
“Negative,” was the only reply.
“Good,” Marsha said. “I have information for Dr. Atkinson. Is he there?”
“Negative there also,” Barry said. “Want me to copy?”
She sighed off the air. “Okay. The Captain orders that there be limited contact with the guests. He will be on the next flight in the morning. A different Russian expedition will detour to your location to pick up the survivors. Until then, keep the different groups apart whenever possible. Copy?”
“That’s affirm. Thanks, Chalet.”
“Okay, Beardmore,” Marsha said. “Check in when they arrive.”
“Wilco,” Barry said positively. “Out.”
Did I miss something?” Dr. Atkinson asked. He came through the door just as Barry signed off.
“Not really. The Chalet wants to know what’s going on. Said something about keeping groups separate, if possible.”
“Keep groups separate? What does that mean?” Dr. Atkinson asked.
“Beats me,” Barry said, looking blankly at the chief scientist. “I thought you’d know.”
“I would think they had more on their plate than housing arrangements. Anyway, I suppose we’ll just have to sort it out. What else?”
“Captain's coming out in the morning.”
“Really?” Dr. Atkinson asked. “ Oh well. I suppose he has to show a presence as part of the job.”
“Go where the action is,” the weatherman agreed. “You got it.”
“All right then. Keep me posted.”
“That’s what I’m here for. That and the weather.”
“Good work if you can find it, huh?” The chief scientist asked, feeling somewhat fraternal in the awareness that all members of the crew shared the dangers equally.
“The very best, Doc. The very best.”
The Pole of Inaccessibility Page 31