Troubling a Star

by Madeleine L'engle

  Not seals. The shadows were too large to be seals, even elephant seals. Two plumes of water rose into the air with a great whoosh. Whales! Two whales! They swam around the iceberg, sometimes submerging, sometimes raising their great bulks out of the water, then diving down, then blowing great fountains through their blowholes. Then they dived down, deep, showing their great, patterned tail flukes before they vanished. I strained to watch for them, and saw them spouting as they headed for the horizon.

  They seemed to be saying, “Hold on, Vicky. Hold on.”

  I would try.

  Everything on the Argosy went on as usual. Or appeared to. It was hard, when we all gathered together for Wrap-Up before dinner, to act natural. Otto came in, wearing the green sweater that set off his golden tan, and headed for our table. He bowed. “May I join you?”

  “Of course,” Sam said, and pulled out a chair for him, between Angelique and me. “Where were you this afternoon?”

  Otto grinned. “You put me to shame, Sam. I stayed on the boat and had a nap. I was up late last night, so I’m looking forward to seeing LeNoir Station tomorrow.”

  Quim came in to talk to us a little about the walk up into the mountains the next morning. Then he said, “So, now, just relax and enjoy the evening.”

  Jorge came over to our table and stood, his hand on the back of Otto’s chair, leaning toward us. “Esteban’s delight in seeing you, Vicky, was charming.”

  “Esteban.” Otto made a face. “So he is after my Vicky.”

  “He’s a young admirer of Vicky’s, true,” Jorge said. “He’s a talented oboist, serving his two years in the army. He pulled quite a few strings so that he could see Vicky again here at Eddington Point.”

  Otto said, “I should have gone ashore to meet this prodigy.”

  I said nothing. I felt embarrassed.

  Jorge looked at me. “I hope you’re not too disappointed at not seeing your friend Adam?”

  “I am a little disappointed,” I said. “Of course.” Jorge did make Esteban’s switch with Adam seem a little more plausible. But only a little, because I no longer trusted Jorge.

  After breakfast we got into Zodiacs and headed for LeNoir Station. I hadn’t eaten much. Anxiety had taken away my appetite.

  Angelique sat next to me. “Are you okay, Vicky?”

  “Sure. Just a little turista.” I might as well stick to Siri’s excuse for sleeping in my cabin.

  “Where’s Otto?” she asked.

  “I think he was in the Zodiac before ours.”

  “You two seem to have hit it off.”

  “He’s fun. Not at all stuck up.”

  “Your first prince?”

  “Not many princes around our part of New England.”

  The Zodiac pulled up to the tumbled rocks. “Slippery,” Angelique said. “Be careful, Vicky.” She looked at me with concern in her dark eyes. “Please be careful.”

  Benjy was helping people climb from the rocks up onto the walkway. He reached out and gave me a hand, then turned to help Siri, who was a little encumbered by her harp. “Wait for me,” he said.

  As usual, we took off our orange life preservers before starting on the day’s hike. As I was putting mine down next to Siri’s, Esteban appeared and stood beside us and reached out to touch her harp case, hopefully. She smiled at him and nodded. Most of our group had already started up the mountain with the other three lecturers and Quim. Otto had his hood pushed back, so I could see the gold of his head as he climbed. Jack had on his cowboy hat; I don’t know why he hadn’t lost it in the wind.

  Benjy came out, looked questioningly at Esteban for a moment, then beckoned to us to join him, and we trudged along the beach for a good half hour, away from the station and any sign of human life. “Tourists like our group,” he said, “aren’t the menace to the Antarctic continent—at any rate, not yet—that you’re supposed to be. The damage done has been by various government-sponsored scientific and pseudoscientific missions.”

  I was glad Esteban couldn’t speak English.

  “And,” Siri added, “by commercial fishing and whaling. The number of whales killed is appalling, and to some extent it’s still going on.”

  “We’re trying to stop it,” Benjy said. “You tourists arrive on ships, take pictures, and leave. So far, you haven’t done any damage, left any sign that you’ve been here.” He sounded cross, the way I do when I have something else on my mind, and talk in order not to think about whatever it is.

  “What happens,” Siri said, “is that we’re so overcome by the beauty that we’ll do anything we can to keep it from being spoiled. Any way we can help have Antarctica made into a world park, we will.” She smiled at Esteban, turned to Benjy. “Clue Esteban in to what we’ve been talking about. You were sounding very fierce.”

  “Sure.” Benjy fumbled with his semi-Spanish, and Esteban nodded eagerly.

  The beach Benjy led us to was slippery with wet stones, not big enough to be called rocks, too big to be called pebbles. They slipped and slid under our feet and made walking difficult. I was with Esteban, and any time I started to slip, he steadied me.

  In a few minutes we came to a curve in the beach where a couple of seals were lying, and Benjy signaled us to be quiet. There were more seals on the floes nearest the land. As much as one can tiptoe in heavy boots, Benjy tiptoed down to the edge of the water, near where a large floe rocked gently only a few feet offshore. Half a dozen seals lay on it, steaming slightly. One raised an uninterested head, looked at us, and returned to its nap.

  Benjy whispered, “Okay. Here.”

  Siri took her harp out of its case and began to play softly, the familiar melody of a South American song, and she looked over at Esteban and he began to sing. He had a warm, rich voice, and it was hauntingly lovely. I looked from Siri and Esteban to the seals. One of them let out an enormous sigh that rocked the floe. Several shifted position. As we watched, three of them turned slowly so that they were facing Siri and Esteban.

  They were listening!

  Benjy said, “I am awed. Totally awed.”

  Siri continued to play. She looked at Esteban and hummed a melody, and he caught on, and sang, and then he began to weave his own melody to her arpeggios. The two of them were caught up in music, and the seals—the seals were listening as intently as Benjy and I were listening.

  The moment was broken by the sound of heavy, running footsteps, and we turned to see Greta hurrying toward us. “Oh, Benjy—Siri—Sam has fallen—”

  “Where?” Benjy asked sharply.

  “Up the mountain”—Greta was gasping—“near the largest crèche—hundreds and hundreds of penguins—slippery with guano—steep—” She grabbed me by the arm as though she couldn’t stand without help.

  “Esteban, stay with Siri and Vicky!” Benjy shouted, and he ran perpendicularly along the beach, and then upward, slanting his way toward the penguin rookery. A skua flew by overhead, crying raucously.

  Siri started to put her harp in its case, slowing herself down in her hurry.

  I tried to shake Greta off so I could follow Benjy, but she clung to me like a terrified animal. “Greta, let go!”

  Esteban was looking on helplessly. Of course he hadn’t understood Benjy, but he moved a step closer to me, saying something I couldn’t understand.

  Greta continued to hang on to me. “Wait, Vicky, wait. We’re not needed. Benjy’s trained in CPR.”

  “How did Sam fall?”

  “He slipped.” She panted, gulped in air, continued, “Guano, it’s more slippery than ice alone. He went over the edge of a ledge—”

  “Is he hurt?”

  “Yes—no—I don’t know. He lay terribly still.”

  I jerked away. Started running, Esteban beside me. Siri and Greta were running behind us. I could hear Siri’s harp slapping against her back.

  “Vicky! Wait!” Siri panted. “There’s no point in getting a heart attack.”

  “Siri, I’ve got to run. Your harp—”

&nbs
p; “I know. It’s slowing me down. But I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “Esteban’s with me,” I called back to her. I had forgotten Sam’s warning about Esteban. “Take your time. We’ll be okay.” We were lots younger than Siri and Greta. We could run faster.

  I heard Greta calling, “You should stay with us! You won’t be any help!”

  Maybe not, but I had to go. Esteban matched his pace to mine. I wasn’t sprinting. We’d come over a mile to get to the seals. The rocks slipped and slid under our feet. We ran at a moderate pace I thought I could keep up. I couldn’t see Benjy.

  Then I heard the familiar putt-putt of a Zodiac coming in to shore just ahead of us. There were three men in red parkas: Jorge, Jack, and Otto.

  Jorge clambered out of the Zodiac and splashed through the water to the shore, calling, “Vicky! They’re taking Sam to Palmer Station. Come on, we’ll get you there.”

  I hurried toward him. Sam was more than just a friend. In our short, intense time together he’d become very dear to me. Jack and Otto were pulling the Zodiac up onto the shore.

  “All the way to Palmer?” I asked.

  “It’s not that far as the crow flies—or as the penguin swims. The Argosy has done a lot of zigzagging with side excursions here and there.”

  Jack came ashore, adding in his soft voice, “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, and we have plenty of gas. Quimby assured me of that. Let’s go.”

  Esteban was standing beside me, his hand on my arm, looking with wide eyes at the three men.

  We heard footsteps—running silently in boots is not an option—and Greta came hurrying up.

  “Greta,” Jorge ordered, “you and Esteban go back to the station. Tell them we’re taking Vicky to Palmer.”

  “Siri—” Greta panted, and Siri came huffing up, still slowed down by her harp.

  “Siri, too,” Jorge said. “There’s no hurry. We just don’t want anyone to be worried about Vicky.”

  “Benjy—” Siri panted.

  “He’s with Sam, and he and Dick will go with Sam in the Zodiac to Palmer.” He turned to Esteban. “You will take care of the ladies?” Then he smiled, said, “Sorry,” and switched to Spanish.

  Esteban’s face was pale and worried. He spoke urgently in Spanish.

  Jorge replied sharply, obviously telling him to go. Telling him to take care of Siri and Greta. The three of them began to walk up the beach, Greta briskly, both Siri and Esteban slowly, turning to look at me.

  I asked, “How badly is Sam hurt?”

  Jorge shook his head. “He’s asking for you.”

  But Greta had said he was unconscious.

  Jorge continued, “He’s barely conscious, just a moan, Vicky, Vicky. Dick thinks it would help if you could be with him. He has a concussion, certainly. We hope nothing more, but—”

  I looked at Otto. He was standing by the Zodiac, holding the painter. “Otto—?”

  “Come quickly, Vicky,” he urged.

  I looked up the beach. Esteban, Siri, and Greta had gone around a wide curve and I couldn’t see them. “Benjy—”

  “Benjy is with Sam,” Jorge repeated. “Come, Vicky, time may be important.”

  “Sweet Vicky,” Otto started.

  But Jorge cut in, urging me toward the Zodiac. I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp, but his fingers clamped like iron. “Vicky, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Sweetie—” Jack was standing in shallow water, one hand on the black rubber side of the Zodiac. Suddenly I didn’t like Jack’s calling me sweetie. “Come along.”

  “No. I don’t want to go with you.” Something was wrong. I looked to Otto for help, but he just stood there, letting the water slap against his boots. He looked at me and shook his head, very slightly.

  Jorge nodded at Jack, who took my other arm. I was being propelled toward the Zodiac.

  “No! Otto!” The wind was blowing my words away, out to sea. I struggled to break free, but Jorge and Jack were far stronger than I.

  “Otto!” I shouted.

  “Vicky,” Otto cried, “watch—”

  Calmly and deliberately, Jack slapped Otto across the mouth.

  “Otto!” I yelled again.

  Jorge spoke sharply to Jack. “No rough stuff.”

  Otto was rubbing his lips, wiping away blood. “Let me speak to her,” he said to Jorge.

  “Be quick,” Jorge said.

  Otto’s mouth stretched in a grimace. “Sam needs you—”

  No. Something was wrong. Something other than Sam.

  “Otto.” Jorge’s voice was low and commanding.

  Otto took a deep breath. “Go with them, Vicky. It’s not safe to—”

  “Enough!” Jorge said.

  I felt myself lifted. My feet were dragged across the black rubber side of the Zodiac and I was dumped, like a sack of potatoes, on the bottom. “Greta and Siri! They’ll tell—”

  Jack said, “Captain Nausinio is waiting for them.”

  “Captain Nau—he’s not there—”

  “Captain Nausinio has a Vespugian cutter. He can be anywhere. Be quiet and do what you are told.”

  “Are you taking me to Sam?”

  Jack raised his hand as though to slap me as he had slapped Otto, but at a look from Jorge he lowered it. They sat on either side of me. “Otto!” Jorge commanded.

  But Otto had turned away from the Zodiac. Now he stopped, looking pale, a trickle of blood on his chin.

  Jorge said, “You will go back to the station and wait for us there. You are not needed.”

  “But Vicky—”

  “You will tell everybody that we are taking Vicky to Sam. You will see to it that everything is under control. You will get what is coming to you. Do you understand?”

  There was a double meaning to those words.

  Otto drew himself up. “I will stay with Vicky.”

  Suddenly Jack had a pistol pointed at Otto. “Prince Otto. You will do as you are told.”

  Jorge pulled the starter sharply. The engine coughed and caught. Jack had one booted foot out of the Zodiac so he could push away from shore. Then we were heading out to sea. Jack put his pistol away.

  Otto splashed into the shallow waves, almost up to the top of his boots.

  “Go,” Jorge snapped. He had the throttle wide open, and the Zodiac was moving rapidly away from shore.

  I lay on the bottom of the Zodiac. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To Sam, of course.”

  “Just relax, honey. You’ve misunderstood everything. The natives were a little restless, nothing more.” But Jack was still holding me down on the bottom of the Zodiac. “We’re going to Palmer Station, where Sam can have proper care.”

  “What do they have at Palmer they don’t at LeNoir?”

  “Vicky.” Jorge sighed heavily. “Palmer is twice the size of LeNoir. They have a proper infirmary.”

  Did they? I didn’t remember.

  Jorge was silent, steering the Zodiac. We were going at full speed. I tried to get off the bottom, but Jack held me down.

  “I’m not going to jump overboard,” I grunted.

  Jorge nodded, and I scrambled up and sat on the black rubber side. The wind whipped viciously against my face. Jorge looked at me pleasantly. Jack patted my knee. I flinched at his touch. “The problem with you, honey, is that you know too much.”

  “About what?”

  “What were you doing in the lounge at two o’clock in the morning?”

  “You saw me?”

  Jorge merely nodded, smiling pleasantly.

  Jack said, “We also saw Otto. He will pay for what he did.”

  “You should not leave your room at night,” Jorge reprimanded.

  Jack added, “Otto has talked to you unwisely.”

  “Otto hasn’t told me anything!” I shouted.

  Jorge said, “A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.”

  Jack said, “Otto is a young fool, jeopardizing everything. You should have kept ou
t of this, sweetie. You’re in over your head.”

  “What’s your part in this, anyhow?” I demanded. “What are you getting out of it?”

  Jack grinned. “What I came to get.”

  I had no idea what that was. Whatever was going on, Jack had not seemed one of the component parts.

  I could feel the Zodiac slowing. We weren’t near land. The shore seemed very far away. But the Zodiac was definitely slowing down. I looked around a little wildly. All I could see in all directions were icebergs, icebergs of various sizes. Jorge sidled the Zodiac up to a middle-sized berg on which a seal was sleeping. The Zodiac bumped against the iceberg.

  Jorge gestured and suddenly Jack had me under the arms and I was lifted over the side and dumped onto the iceberg. Jorge backed the Zodiac away until there was about a yard of dark water between the iceberg and the rubber boat. “We mean you no harm, Vicky,” Jorge said. “When we are certain that our work can continue, we will come for you.”

  “How are you going to make certain?” I shouted to Jorge across the widening water. “Shoot everybody?”

  “That will not be necessary,” Jorge called back.

  “And Sam—what about Sam?”

  “What about him?” Jorge’s voice grew faint as he turned the Zodiac and headed away from me at full speed.

  I had been on the iceberg forever. Like Adam II …

  Then—

  I heard before I saw. Heard the putt-putt of a motor, the familiar sound of a Zodiac. I froze. Was it Jorge?

  The Zodiac coming toward me was smaller than the ones from the Argosy. Someone in a heavy parka was driving it, but the parka was not red. It was a faded blue.

  Adam!

  He jumped out of the Zodiac onto the iceberg, pulled the rubber boat up after him. “Papageno and Cook are on the way,” he said. “The Zodiac’s a lot faster than the Portia.”

  “How did you know where I was?” Relief made me light-headed.

  “Guesswork. Not that difficult.” He had brought blankets, which he draped over me, and hot sweet black coffee, which I hate, but I drank it anyhow to try to stop my teeth from chattering. He had both his arms around me, warming me, and I did my best to control my shivering.